Chapter 788 Foreign Aid
Northeast of Tiara City, the city of Milan is located more than two hundred miles away.
As night slowly fell, the last group of merchants who were eager to leave the city carried their families and a small amount of belongings and hurriedly left this ancient city that was about to be swallowed up by the flames of war amid the scoldings of the defenders.
When the frightening news spread that Milan would be the next city to be attacked by the coalition forces of Burgundy and Provence, some local residents who had been wavering between leaving or staying finally chose to leave.
At this time, the notice posted on the dim city wall whistled in the evening breeze. This was posted on it by the clerk of the Milan Palace in the early hours of this morning. There is one on each side of the four city gates. It clearly reads: In order to prevent enemy spies from sneaking into the city and causing trouble, the city will be sealed off at noon tomorrow. No one can leave the city without permission. Anyone who disobeys the order can be killed on the spot.
Within two hours after the news in the announcement spread, a large number of local residents had already passed through the city gate with their wedding papers and luggage, and left this place of right and wrong without looking back.
At noon, people who wanted to flee had already formed a long queue and surrounded all the city gates. From a distance, these war-torn residents of Milan look like prisoners lining up at the fence waiting to be called to leave the dungeon.
Yes, this is a dungeon now.
Dozens of riots and rebellions that have broken out in recent months have left this ancient city that has been prosperous for hundreds of years riddled with holes. The ubiquitous palace guards and the mixed peasant and soldier servants would rush into the homes of local residents every three days and take away the able-bodied men in the family in the name of palace recruitment.
If you want these armored and sword-wielding guys to be spared, the helpless woman has to take out the valuable belongings at home in exchange for the freedom of her husband and son. Even so, there were still some soldiers who had no mercy at all and still violently pulled the man away after filling their pockets in order to complete the tasks assigned by the palace.
When the native soldiers who were originally tasked with guarding the city and maintaining security in the surrounding areas became thugs who relied on force to extort money, the residents living in the city would become prisoners who had lost their freedom.
At this time, their only way out is to escape from here and find a place where they can settle down again.
"..—Pull up the drawbridge and close the city gate!"
On the city wall, the city defense squadron captain in charge conveyed the last order of the day to the soldiers below after the bell sounded as usual.
"Pull up the drawbridge and close the city gate!"
h Under the city wall, the squad leader responsible for closing the city gate repeated the squadron leader's order.
At this time, the suspension bridge on the moat began to rise little by little, dragged by the iron chains as thick as a bowl. The giant oak door, about twenty feet high and weighing thousands of pounds, slowly closed with the combined efforts of more than twenty soldiers.
Subsequently, four iron-clad beams about one foot in diameter were slowly pushed out from the hollow circular stone pillar on the right side and inserted into the hole at the same position on the other side. Above the city gate, there is a square hole in the stone wall on both sides of the door gap. A one-foot-long rectangular log slowly descends with the help of hinges, almost touching the city gate, and is firmly fixed on it.
As night falls, torches as tall as a person placed on both sides of the city gate instantly illuminate everything around them the moment they come into contact with the flames. The yellow flames reflected on the silver-white armor of the soldiers, and the golden light shone.
The noise at the city gate where there was a crowd of people a moment ago gradually dissipated. Residents who missed the opportunity to leave the city occasionally looked back, then shook their heads and walked quickly towards home, planning to wait until dawn the next day before returning here. They left here in the north of the city, near the slums far away from the city center. A river separated the monastery in the west and the shacks in the east into two worlds.
The stench is overwhelming and diseases are rampant. The other side is clean and tidy and close to heaven.
The original flea nest was crowded with the city's lice, old ones, young ones, strong ones and weak ones. They are trampled under everyone's feet, and they live in a smelly environment all day long, just to have something to eat and something to drink.
But with the outbreak of war and the defeat of those high-ranking nobles again and again, these poor people living in the mud were finally remembered by the court.
Overnight, those guys who looked a little brute turned into what people called heroes who defended their homeland. They walked among the crowds of onlookers, wearing leather armor and holding short spears. They were sent to the forefront of the battlefield with louder cheers to defend the city that had never shown favor to them.
On the other side, the family members still living in the shacks were still hungry, competing with others for the remains of the aristocratic lords in the city who had dumped their bags in the garbage~
Under the cold moonlight, a figure wearing a black robe and a hood walked briskly through the filthy streets next to the slums, walking towards the monastery.
Every few steps he takes, this cautious but slightly mysterious man in black will look back to prevent someone from following him.
After this man came out of a small hotel near the Church Square in the west of the city, he dived into the alleyways connecting the city that few people passed through, and he always paid attention to the soldiers patrolling the streets.
Thanks to his knowledge of the city over the past few days, he perfectly avoided the crowds and soldiers on patrol, and soon arrived near the monastery in the north of the city that a shop steward he had never met told him this morning.
The stench emanating from the shack areas on both sides made him cover his mouth and nose tightly, stirring up the air on both sides of his nose from time to time.
It didn't take long before he came to the stone bridge connecting the two sides of the river, leaving the slums he passed far behind.
Looking up towards the other side of the river, the tall and majestic monastery stood in front of the man in black like a giant, motionless. He couldn't help but look up at this ancient building that had existed for hundreds of years, and crossed himself devoutly on his chest.
Walking across the stone bridge, the figure of the man in black soon disappeared at an intersection behind the monastery—
When he reappeared, he was already sitting in the reception hall of a luxurious mansion somewhere in the north of the city. The man in black came in quietly from the back door of the mansion, and the person who greeted him was the shop steward who had delivered the news in the morning. As soon as he entered the door, the shop steward helped him take off his black robe and asked him to wait in the reception hall. Then the steward politely exited the door, preparing to inform his master that the guests invited by his master had arrived.
Looking at the extremely exquisite decoration in the hall, the invited man knew that the owner of this mansion was definitely an ordinary person.
The furniture and colorful porcelain displayed in the room were something he had never seen before. The suspended candlestick pendant hanging in the center of the roof had a large number of crystals emitting various colors of luster, making the hall look extremely luxurious.
On the wall behind the main table, a beautiful oil painting of the Virgin Mary embracing the Son looked familiar to him, but this one was obviously much larger than the one he saw in a businessman's house in Lavati. The frame of the inlaid oil painting is made of hollow oak with golden luster, and the relief on it is delicate but the text is gorgeous.
There is a half-person-high colorful vase on each side of the main seat. The bottom of the vase is embedded in two wooden piers with carved lion patterns, making it seamless.
The chair made of hollow fine iron is engraved with all kinds of strange and eccentric patterns. The luster of emerald green and sapphire blue makes it fully reflect the elegant taste of the owner.
While the man was guessing about the mysterious figure who invited him, the sound of footsteps outside the hall interrupted his thoughts...·
When he turned to look outside the hall door, a bald middle-aged man wearing a silk robe and deerskin boots came in with a butler.
"Are you the Sir named Dawson?
"Sir?" Dawson stared inwardly, thinking that although he was the vice-captain in the task force, no one had ever called him that. But in order not to be rude, he still responded with a smile.
"Please sit down!" The bald man made a gesture of invitation, then walked to his seat and sat down slowly on it, his movements calm but elegant.
"You are~" Dawson asked, while trying his best to think in his mind whether he had seen this person somewhere. "I am a businessman from an autonomous city-state called Engrechi west of Milan, and I am also an ally of your Lord Count." The bald man paused for a moment, and continued: "You can call me Jacques, Jacques Cole."
After learning the identity of this man, Dawson felt a lot more at ease.
"Excuse me, Lord Jacques, how did you know where I live?" As the deputy captain of the task force, Dawson has always kept a low profile. For a stranger who knows his true identity, it is difficult for him to let down his guard easily with just a few words.
Jacques took out a secret letter from his sleeve and asked the butler beside him to hand it to Dawson.
Dawson hesitated for a moment, then opened the parchment, and then suddenly realized.
It turned out that this Engrechi businessman named Jacques Cole was a close friend of the head of the local business guild. At the same time, he also had a close relationship with the son of the Prime Minister of the Lombardy Court. The last news that the guild leader passed to Art was secretly sent by this businessman named Jacques. Now that the war is imminent, Art informed Jacques of his spy in Milan so that the two can work closely together to assist in the siege.
Dawson stood up slowly after reading the secret letter and nodded politely to Jacques.
"Sir Dawson, do you believe me now?" Jacques asked with a smile.
"Master Jacques, please forgive me for being rude just now!"
Jacques waved his hand and didn't take this matter to heart at all. "You and I are all serving the Earl, why should we be so polite."
Dawson said with a hearty smile: "With you as a foreign aid, there is no need to worry about Milan not being broken!"