kingdom of nations

Chapter 324 The Persuader (Part 2)

The "Adelaide Knight" nodded. Of course he knew about coal mines—although the Champagne region didn't have coal mines, or rather, it didn't have mines as easy to mine and as large as those in Tyne, England, there were some scattered small coal mines that had been discovered.

However, charcoal was still burned in the fireplaces of the nobility, since the coal was of poor quality and produced harmful sulfur fumes when burned.

When they burn, all enclosed dwellings become a living hell shrouded in gray and black smoke—and many die from it every winter.

Apart from the poorest people, very few would bring these horrible things back into their homes.

"The coal we burn now mostly comes from Mersin, you know? It no longer belongs to M'lai, but to a Crusader knight—who is said to be a good man, and he is now in Damascus, so he entrusted his territory of Mersin to our lord, who buys the coal from him at a reasonable price and then disposes of it."

After processing, those dark stones no longer had that pungent smell, the smoke was much less, they burned for a longer time, and produced more heat—it couldn't be better.

“Really? I don’t believe it.” The “Sir Adelaide” said deliberately. This time his provocation failed. The steward just smiled slyly, reached out and twirled his fingers. The “Sir Adelaide” threw another silver coin into his hand. “Take me there.”

The steward then led them to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a small hut built outside the main house, both for fire prevention and to facilitate fetching water from the nearby stream. Several women were busily working there—the three chickens that the monks had chosen earlier had been brought here and were being plucked, gutted, and cleaned. As the "Knight of Adelaide" walked over, he tilted his head and said, "Leave me the heart, liver, and intestines."

The steward let out a regretful squeak behind him. If the guests hadn't ordered it, they could have kept the food for themselves. People at this time were unlike those of later generations; they ate almost anything. After all, in the castle, even bones without meat could be given to servants, who would break them, suck out the marrow, and then throw the bare bone fragments to the dogs or lower-ranking servants. The servants didn't mind, often gnawing on them noisily.

"Let the master see our stove," the steward called out.

Although he could feel the heat, the "Knight of Adelaide" hadn't actually noticed that the stove was already on fire. He didn't hear the crackling of the burning wood, nor did he smell any pungent odor. But as soon as the pot was moved aside, he saw flames surging out from a hole.

He craned his neck to look, and a surge of heat rushed towards him, making it impossible for him to open his eyes.

He saw only clumps of red things burning rapidly in the stove, and many eyes, each one terrifyingly bright white.

"Sir Adelaide" let out a soft gasp and took a step back. The steward quickly steadied him. "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, sir. Although it looks frightening, it's just a shape pressed out of a mold. It's for better burning, just like when you're burning wood in a fireplace, you cut the wood into roughly the same size and length and stack it into a delicate shape. You'll understand once you see the raw materials and production methods of these fuels."

"can I see?"

"There's nothing you can't see, sir."

Indeed, there was nothing to see. Coal was piled up directly in a warehouse, and craftsmen were constantly mixing it with soil and then pressing it into regular shapes using molds.

The small holes that the "Knight of Adelaide" saw were just some empty spaces. Undeterred by the filth on the ground, he squatted down and carefully examined a piece of coal in his hand. He discovered that the principle behind these holes was indeed similar to that of stacking wood in a fireplace or hearth, simply to leave gaps.

Although he didn't know the importance of oxygen to a flame, he could roughly understand the principle and it wasn't anything to be surprised about. However, he couldn't help but squeeze the round lump of coal, and the coal crumbled in his hand.

"Oh dear!" one of the craftsmen couldn't help but exclaim. Although they knew the visitor was a master, the items had originally been neatly arranged and pleasing to the eye. Now that a piece was broken, not only would they have to clean up the debris, but the missing piece also looked quite unsightly.

As for the "Adelaide Knight," it was completely different from the coal he had seen before. If someone were to sell the finished product, no one would necessarily think it was coal.

It's still black, but a very pure black, without any grit or dust, and you can see that the original particles were also very small—was it ground up? That would require a lot of people…

The "Knight of Adelaide" stood up, clapped his hands, and roughly estimated the weight of the coal. "May I buy some to take with me?"

"Of course you can, but as you can see, sir, it is actually very porous and easily broken."

Even if you pack it in a box and line it with straw, it'll be ruined by a bump. You can use coal for warmth, but if you want to cook food or scare away wild animals, you'd better stick to wood.”

"Well, in a way, there's no benefit to this kind of new thing..."

The advantage? The advantage is probably that it's cheaper.

The mining, processing, transportation, and trading of coal are still controlled by the Venetians. The steward was able to buy this coal at a rather low price because he was Cypriot and a subject of the lord, and both of his sons were in the lord's army.

However, he did not tell this to the unfamiliar pilgrim, as this was all the information he could buy with a silver coin.

"I think your breakfast should be ready by now, sir."

The "Adelaide Knight" ate breakfast. The porridge was thick enough to hold a spoon, and it was topped with a spoonful of darkened sugar powder. Next to it was a boiled egg and a slice of browned bread.

The Knight of Adelaide's entourage raved, "This is truly the best meal we've had since we left Paris."

They said this, and the monk began to look forward to the chicken he had chosen.

They didn't eat anything at noon, of course; they just drank a few glasses of wine and ate some olives, and that was their meal.

The "Adelaide Knight" walked around the small village and found that even in the corners or on the muddy ground, the village was kept as clean as possible, with no visible feces, animal carcasses or withered plants.

When pilgrims came by, people would scoop water from their buckets for him to drink and wash his hands. He met a Catholic monk, who probably lived nearby, because people were greeting him warmly—even though most of the residents were Orthodox Christians. He walked around, talked, and interacted with people without any apparent difficulty. "Sir, monk!" the knight called out.

The monk paused, noticing the finger he used to make the sign of the cross—a Catholic gesture—three fingers (thumb, index, and middle finger), and a look of joy appeared on his face. "May St. James bless you, pilgrim. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, I have been very well received here, monk. It's just that I have some questions that no one can answer for me."

The monk frowned slightly. Even though the knight hinted that he wanted to talk somewhere else, he did not move. He stood firmly in the square and said to the "Knight of Adelaide," "Ask me what you want to know right here. Under the sunlight and the watchful eye of God, and since we are not evil people, there is no need to keep any unnecessary secrets."

"You see, I'm from Frankish—where are you from?"

“I used to be in London.”

“Oh, then you must be an extraordinary person. A monk who can come out of London is no ordinary person.” The “Sir Adelaide” then asked, “So you have also walked the streets of London, haven’t you?”
In my opinion, this is just a small village in Cyprus, and even though it's close to their capital Nicosia, its order and cleanliness still surprised me. If this were Arrassa, Bethlehem, or Nal'azar, I wouldn't be surprised, but this is perhaps a little too clean.

Cleanliness is a need for most people.

So why do such filth and defilement exist in the Frankish, Apennine, and German territories, and even in Christian countries of the Holy Land? This cannot be blamed on city dwellers or rural farmers; human energy is finite. If a person struggles to even feed themselves, how can they possibly have the energy to care about the cleanliness of themselves and their surroundings?
"Because their lord is a good man, he has enabled them to live in peace and prosperity. Even though some are still in difficult circumstances, they are able to feed themselves—so they are willing to work for their lord." The monk looked around at the people hurrying by. "They have nothing to offer this lord, after all, the lord has relieved them of their greatest burden."

They wanted to offer their lord the sweetest fruit, the fattest livestock, and the most beautiful virgins, but were refused. The lord said he didn't need so much, and that he was just a mortal; they didn't need to worship him like a god. So they said, "What can we do for him?"

Later, they heard that their lord was a lover of cleanliness and could not tolerate filth everywhere, so they voluntarily cleaned their place and themselves, even though it was tiring, it was worth it. They always said, "How disappointed my lord would be if he came here and saw such a filthy sight!"

An incredulous look appeared on the "Knight of Adelaide's" face. "Just because of one person's preference?"

He considered himself a good lord, never mistreating his people and treating them fairly. But every time he went out, didn't he still step into piles of excrement and mud puddles?

Why doesn't anyone think of cleaning the streets for him?

"There are many other things they did as he instructed. I've heard about... the noisy chickens and ducks, the mortar-covered sheds, and the coal..."

"Haven't you used it before?"

“I heard that the lord here sold this coal to his people at a very low price.”

"Besides rewarding their loyalty, it's also to listen to their opinions."

"Opinion?"

"The lord is cautious and loving. He doesn't want his people to suffer because of his mistakes, so he has trusted people try it before it's officially sold. The monastery where I live also uses it, whether it's here or in England. It has nothing to do with the devil or hell."

The "Sir Adelaide" didn't bother to ask whether the monastery he was in belonged to the Orthodox Church or the Catholic Church. In any case, it seemed that there hadn't been any serious conflict between the Orthodox believers and the Catholic monks. They were even exchanging pleasantries and greetings like friends—although they were using different numbers of fingers.

Just as they were speaking, a group of soldiers walked past them, and one of them waved to the monk when he saw him.

"You were chosen too, weren't you?"

The "Knight of Adelaide" suddenly asked, "If a craftsman or farmer were to be so respectful to a monk, that would be understandable. But if soldiers were to treat him so politely, they must have received a favor from him. And if someone claims to have received a favor from a priest, the most likely explanation is that they have been healed by him."

“Yes,” the monk said, “I have treated them; one soldier broke his leg during training.”

"Then the favor you have received is extraordinary."

"The Knight of Adelaide" said casually, "Do they just need training?"

The monk paused, not answering the question. "You certainly have too many questions, sir. But if you wish to know, I can answer you. Yes, they also need training, just not as rigorously and thoroughly as the knights."

The monk then nodded to him and politely said goodbye, "If we continue chatting, I'll miss the morning ritual."

The "Knight of Adelaide" had not achieved his goal. However, he was not discouraged. After all, he had come with a mission and time was not so urgent, so he decided to stay in the village for a few more days.

However, things always turn out differently than people expect.

The "Knight of Adelaide" ate the chicken at dinner, which was indeed delicious, and drank a large glass of sweetened wine. He then fell into a deep sleep, a sleep he had never had before.

When he awoke, he found himself, along with his attendants and monks, being transported to Nicosia in a prison cart. As he had hoped, he met Cesar, but not as the "Knight of Adelaide" or Count Etienne, nor as an envoy or lobbyist of the Knights Templar to the lord of Cyprus...

Instead, he was brought before César on charges of being a spy.

(End of this chapter)