Chapter 727 The Flame of Revenge
At the end of the sky, the inner castle of Sorrenborg.
The keystone was seeping with frost. When the last beech wood in the fireplace burst, the flying sparks cracked and burned a fleeting cross-spot on the breastplate near the corner.
Matt pressed the secret letter on the oak table exuding the scent of rosin, and repeatedly rubbed the snake-shaped indentations of the fire paint seal with his fingertips - the information branded by the eagle eyes of the North with code words was like a poisonous snake entrenched, "The poisonous snake sent by the Lombard court to Besancon has been trapped in the iron cage, and its tail scales are stained The fragrance of holy oil. "
Robert's wine glass suddenly tilted, and the wine residue that had been settling at the bottom of the glass for twelve years smoked like traces of blood on the parchment. Looking at the chilling contents in the secret letter, he couldn't help but feel angry at the shamelessness of the Lombards.
"My lord, I really didn't expect that the Lombard court would do such a despicable and shameless thing. Not only did they assassinate the king with poisonous arrows, they actually tried to sneak into the palace again and use poisonous blades to harvest the royal bloodline! This kind of thing must not happen again! St. Margaret has mercy!" He held the iron cross tightly on his chest, and the candlelight danced violently in the deep-set eye sockets.
The cast-iron scales jingled in the draft. "Amory tested the dagger. The weapon tempered with the venom of the black water snake can stop a bull from breathing within seven heartbeats." Art's voice was as cold as a whetstone. "What's even more terrifying is that they hid carrion bacteria in the hidden grooves of the hilts - when the wounds fester, the smell of plague is enough to put the entire palace into panic."
The priest's silver chain cross swept across the bloody fingerprints at the end of the secret letter, and suddenly hovered over a certain name. "The documents carried by these spies are stamped with the fleur-de-lis seal of the Senate... It seems that someone in the palace pried open the back door for the poisonous snake."
"So we can't simply throw the corpses on the steps of the parliament hall." Art suddenly suppressed the shaking candle with a brass paperweight, and the twisted shadows on the wall instantly solidified into the shape of an iron cage. "Phoenix needs a gorgeous trial - let the nobles of Besançon see it with their own eyes. By the time they were pretending to mourn in front of the coffin, the real eagle was already pecking at the heart of the poisonous snake." Robert used iron tongs to poke the charcoal in the fireplace, and the burning rosin was mixed with the bitterness of ambergris smoke. "But Lord Galvin has always hated bloody scenes, I'm afraid...
The cast-iron balance suddenly buzzed like a bell, and three frozen ravens crashed against the stained glass.
"Without short-term bloodshed, how can there be long-term peace!" A cold light flashed in Art's eyes, so cold that people dared not look directly at him,
Robert's hand pouring wine into the Holy Grail suddenly stopped, and the wine smudged into the shape of a scepter on the scriptures. Elephant..."
"What's more important is to pave the way for the southern expedition. When everyone in Besançon is cheering for the Lombard spies being sent to the fire, those vassals who are still hesitating will sharpen their swords themselves - after all, the war to avenge the monarch can always awaken the most fanatical desire for glory among the knights."
Robert nodded slightly, fully agreeing with Art's arrangement.
Matt stood up from the leather chair, walked to the window, and looked at the street not far away. "Before, our goal was Sauronburg; now,
our horses' iron hooves will crush the city wall of Milan with the flames of revenge for the king"
Hite may not dare to make such bold statements before holding Sauronburg in his hands. But now that Solonburg has once again become the inherent territory of the Wells family after many years, this has made Art more determined to continue the southern expedition.
With the arrest of the Lombard spies in Besançon, there will not be big changes in the north for the time being. Once the transfer of power in the princely state is completed, the Duke of Lombardy's calculations will be completely shattered. By then, Art will no longer have any worries.
On the contrary, the Burgundian southern expedition army will go all the way south to Milan in the name of revenge for the king of Flanders.
咚～
咚咚～
Art turned the secret letter over and looked at the oaken door that was knocked, "Come in!"
"Master!"
Ron pushed open the door, walked straight towards Art, and immediately pulled out a roll of parchment from his waist. "Secret message from Count Balian of Provence!"
At took the secret letter, tore off the hemp rope tied to the parchment, and moved closer to the candlelight. Looking at the information above, Art's pupils gradually dilated, and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.
The secret message conveyed two pieces of information - the Provence army will arrive at a manor thirty miles south of Sauronburg at noon tomorrow, and Count Balian will take some officers to Sauronbourg to discuss follow-up matters with Art.
“I didn’t expect that the Provence people would advance so fast, three days earlier than I expected.” Art couldn’t help but sigh.
"Sir, do you need to inform the Radiation Department to start preparing the drinks and food for the celebration banquet?"
"Of course!" There was a hint of excitement in Art's tone, "Tell Bob to use some of the food and drinks captured this time to entertain Count Balian. In addition, all officers above the banner captain will attend the banquet, and the soldiers' food will be doubled from the original basis. We eat meat, and we can't let them only drink soup!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Wait!"
Ron was about to turn around and leave when Art stopped him again. "You personally prepare a big gift. I want to express my gratitude to Earl Balian. In addition, take the long sword used by Telman and give it as a gift to our friend."
"I'm afraid you are not planning on the thousand young peasant soldiers sent by Earl Balian to assist you~" Robert stared directly into Art's eyes, expecting to hear a positive answer from him.
"There is no reason to return something that is delivered to your door!"
The two looked at each other and smiled~
A sneeze～
In a market town with less than 400 permanent residents fifty miles away in the mountains southwest of Solenberg, Earl Balian, who had just experienced a small-scale battle, took a breath of the cool breeze blowing from the northeast and couldn't help but sneeze.
"This damn weather!"
Bairion took off his iron hand, wiped away the thick phlegm remaining at the corner of his mouth, and threw it out, just in time to fly onto the head of a Lombard soldier squatting on the ground.
Jiang Bing reached out and touched the sticky liquid on his head, brought it to his mouth and smelled it. The stench made him retch in his stomach.
Looking at the disgusting behavior of the Lombard soldiers, Balian shouted at the officer guarding the prisoners: "Put these bastards in the stable, don't let them appear in front of me!"
"Yes, my lord, count!"
Without saying a word, the officer raised the whip in his hand and whipped it at the long string of Lombard surrender soldiers, roaring and sending them to the smelly barn.
At ten o'clock in the afternoon, two thousand elite soldiers from Provence, led by Bellian, pursued this group of more than three hundred young Lombard peasant soldiers fleeing eastward along the road. When this group of Lombards arrived in the market town, they did not forget to launch a robbery on the remaining hundreds of residents in the market town. Just as the group was about to escape, they were cut off by two hundred Provence cavalry. After a period of strangulation, more than fifty people died in the battle, and the rest all surrendered. The leader, the Viscount of Lombardy, fled eastward in a hurry on the stolen horses, chasing the retreating Lombard army. The Provence native soldiers were already familiar with this situation. The only thing they cared about was to catch these Lombards before they looted villages, towns and estates, and keep the looted goods as their own. After all, their original intention of sending troops to Lombardy was to plunder the wealth of this powerful southern country and occupy their land. As for the life and death of these Lombard civilians, the Provence soldiers would not care.
Looking at the grain and supplies loaded into the carriage, a smile appeared on Balian's face again. "Herald~"
"Your Majesty the Earl!" The messenger not far away ran over quickly.
"Pass my order, the whole army will be repaired here tonight, and fifty cavalry will be sent to follow the defeated troops escaping eastward, and I must bite them to the death!"
"Yes, Lord Earl!"
Looking at the outline of the hills in the distance, a crescent moon rose quietly from the other side of the mountain. Balian brushed his gray beard on his chin, then turned around and walked towards the command camp set up in the market town "...If you don't want to die, move faster and follow me~"
In the eastern mountainous area, a Lombard noble officer riding on horseback on the right side of the trade road scolded the stragglers. The horse under him was already foaming at the mouth from exhaustion.
If the three hundred young peasant soldiers had not been left behind to hold back the Provence people, I am afraid that this group of people would have become dead souls under the opponent's sword.
The number of people who were lucky enough to escape was no more than 800. Originally, they followed Francesco, the military deputy of the Lombard court, to resist the Provençal people approaching Milan in a military castle. I thought I could withstand the opponent for three to five days before retreating, but I never thought that the opponent had already deployed his own men in the military fort. Less than a meal after the battle between the two sides, the gate of the military fort was suddenly opened by the spy inside. After losing three hundred soldiers, the Lombard garrison fled in panic, once again surrendering the fort to the Provencals.
The team stretched between hills and canyons, rushing towards the next blocking fortress under the faint moonlight.
The military deputy of the Lombardy Palace who was walking at the front turned back and forgot to take a look at the lost large territory of Lombardy. He couldn't help but sigh, "Provence is no longer the weak and weak country it was many years ago. Why did I accept such a mess in the first place?"
The blond baron next to him saw this and consoled him: "My lord, the matter has come to this, and there is nothing we can do. If you can take charge of the Western Army as soon as possible, maybe Lombardy still has a chance to survive~"
The military deputy minister suddenly came to his senses and asked hurriedly: "Have you found the military minister?"
The blond baron lowered his head and replied: "Not yet. We only know that he fled eastward under the escort of a dozen cronies, and his life or death is unknown."
Seeing that the scapegoat has not been found yet, Francesco immediately shouted angrily, "Send another group of people out to look for me. If you want to see the person alive, you will see the body if you die!"
"Yes!"