Temple Sword

Chapter 29 Uglin's Inn
1303, the third day of the month of St. John (June) -
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The old innkeeper struggled up the creaking wooden stairs, complaining nonstop.It's these Christian soldiers who claim to be innocent again, and they always give him trouble!He still vividly remembers a wounded squire dying in his quarters just a few summers ago - when he told his daughter to take extra care of him, because it was known that if a novice templar died in his What happens in the inn.

Less than a year ago, he had discovered that several servants were engaged in unauthorized duels in his yard, not to mention white robed knights passing by here every day, begging for a few drinks, of course, they never paid. money!They said they had taken a vow of poverty and had no property, and God knew they were lying, and Uglin gnashed his teeth with anger.And now there's another half-dead squire, which sucks.

"I don't know what trouble I'm going to get into this time," he said to himself, "I think they're trying to turn my inn into a monastery, which is really nice..." He climbed the stairs and opened a The door of the room, being frightened by the sight in front of him, it was hard to breathe.

The squire, beaten beyond recognition, was lying on the bed just as he had seen it before, but his daughter sat on top of him, her head resting on the boy's chest.She caught a glimpse of her father out of the corner of her eye, and jumped off the attendant in fright.

"Damn it, Agnes! What are you doing? Shaming me? Are you a whore? At least don't practice your slut skills with a Templar! Come on, I'll find you myself!" he yelled Walking into the room, he raised his hand.

"Father!" The girl leaned against the wall, her eyes wide open, her hands raised in front of her body to protect herself, "Father, don't! I was just checking his breathing, I thought he was dead!"

"What did you say?" The innkeeper's hands froze in mid-air, and a look of fear suddenly appeared on his face, "Dead? Is he dead? Here, in our house?"

"I just thought he was dead, he was still breathing, albeit very weakly, and he wasn't doing well, poor guy, I put my head on his chest to hear if his heart was still beating. "

Uglin's hand slowly dropped, and he sighed heavily: It was a false alarm, the kid is still alive, and his daughter has not fallen.The joy of near misses made him a little thirsty, and he wanted to go downstairs to pour a glass of wine.

"Don't sit on his lap the next time you listen to see if his heart is still beating!" he ordered, frowning before turning away. "What if he wakes up? How do you explain it?"

"You're right, Father. Please don't be offended, I'm sorry!"

The owner of the inn nodded, and closed the door behind him. After a burst of low footsteps and weakened noises, Antal couldn't help laughing anymore.

"Is he gone?" he asked, smiling as quietly as he could, looking around with his intact left eye, he only had one now because the right was so swollen it couldn't even slit open. "Am I really like a dead man?"

"Anyway, you don't look like a living person." The girl sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking Antar's hair with nervous and trembling hands.

"I can feel that I am still alive," the attendant smiled at her. "It is impossible for a dead person to feel such terrible pain like me."

"We have to be more careful."

"I'm very careful, your father thought I was dead."

"It's not funny at all, Antal..."

"sorry."

"You haven't woken up for long, you're already joking!"

"I need to find a way to relieve the pain," the boy moaned. "It hurts just to breathe."

He looked around the room, not even thinking about how he got here until a few minutes before Agnes' father opened the door.His left arm was framed by wooden bars, and he couldn't move for a while. His left knee was throbbing hotly, and his right ankle seemed to be filled with burning arrows. It would take a few days before he could stand up. The face is definitely the worst.Looking at Agnes' face, the boy's initial joy was gradually replaced by despair.

"How long have I been lying here?" he asked, as everything ached more and more. "Where are my own clothes?"

"We found you yesterday morning," Agnes replied, "you were lying outside the inn door, and we brought you in right away, I was afraid you would never wake up again!" Her voice suddenly became louder, "What the hell happened? What did you do to yourself?"

Antal's whole body was seized by pain, he grabbed his clothes, gnashed his teeth in pain, but didn't want to cry out, he wanted to keep his last trace of dignity.

"Do you think I did it myself?" he cried through tears. "Where's my stuff? It's not my shirt..."

"Your cloak is stained with blood and mud, and is torn in several places, and you are not wearing a belt."

"What do you say? I don't have a belt? Where's my sword? Where's my dagger?"

She didn't answer, just shook her head sadly.Antar's face turned pale, and he covered his face with his right hand, not knowing what to do.He didn't know who carried him all the way to the door of the inn, because he remembered that he had fallen in the barn, and his weapon must have been taken by Olivier's men.

"Damn it!" he cursed in spite of the pain, covering his face convulsively, "Damn it, these filthy hellhounds! May Baalzebub strip your face and let you die screaming! "

Antal didn't want to cry anymore, he felt only anger, a dark hatred beyond measure.He wanted to torture the broken Zoutemon first, then Olivier, and finally Goliath.He was eager to see what the giant could do in a fair duel with the sword, and he would slice up the unbred ox like a butcher himself.

The fiery rage slowly consumed him until his eyes blurred, and he didn't even care that the lover in front of him was watching him go crazy.Pain, helplessness and disappointment mixed into a mouthful of bitter bile swirling in his mouth.

"I could take my punishment for the cloak I ruined," he growled wildly, "but my sword is different, and I've had that dagger for as long as I can remember, so how could I bear the shame of losing it! These despicable people, they will die in the rotting dunghill sooner or later!"

Agnes stood up in horror and leaned against the wall, as she had done before to avoid her father's slap.The old man also opened the door with a shout, "For God's sake, boy, what's the matter with you?" Uglin asked breathlessly after he had just climbed the stairs.

"The innkeeper!" Antal shouted, not long ago he was still considering how to introduce himself to Agnes's father, "send someone to find the abbot of the Templars here immediately!"

"But, boy..."

"You heard me right, I have something urgent to talk to Dean Ambrosius, but I can't walk, so he has to come to me!"

Uglin felt that he was dealing with a violent lunatic, so he quickly complied. After all, no trainee knight or attendant with a normal head would dare to say that about his boss.His Templar friends better get this guy out of here quickly!

"Come on, Agnes," he grabbed his girl's arm, "I can't let you stay with him for one more minute!"
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Antal's madness had dissipated when the head of the monastery arrived, replaced by more pain and frustration, but at least he didn't have to worry about hitting his lord with rude words.It was bad enough just yelling at Agnes' father like a jerk, and he wouldn't allow that to happen again.

He and the Abbess had a lot to explain, like what he'd done outside the monastery that night, but he wouldn't tell the truth, and he wanted to confront Zoutermont face-to-face and settle the matter his way.

"My lord," he groaned, addressing Ambrosius, who came in with more disheveled hair than usual, "you have the right to be angry with me, and I'll accept any punishment you want, I I deserve it. If I could stand up, I would come back to you by myself, but I can't walk..."

But instead of anger, Ambrosius' face showed fear, and it seemed elongated and pale since Antal had last seen him.

"My child!" he yelled worriedly, and walked cautiously around the bed. "What's the matter with you?"

"I was attacked," Antal replied politely, and he didn't feel that he was telling a big lie. "I have been thoroughly taken care of, Mr. Dean. I have been lying here for several days. God, if it weren't for this good shopkeeper and his kind daughter, I might be dead by now."

Hearing of death, Ambrosius' eyes became more frightened. "Enough!" He bit the thumbnail on his trembling right hand, "Your uncle trusted you too much... so much so that I trusted you too much, which got you into big trouble and almost made you I'm in big trouble and this can't happen again!"

"Neither do I, my lord, trust me."

Antar was surprised to see that the man's reaction was not what he had imagined before, and he wondered why Ambrosius was so scared instead of angry at him.If it was the other apprentices who caused the trouble, they would already have several whip marks on their backs by this time, but he was as afraid of William Barto's adopted son as he was afraid of purgatory.

"Please calm down, Master Monastery." Antal changed his tone, "Even if I am on the verge of death, I have been reborn now. It seems that I have a guardian angel."

"Really?" Ambrosius calmed down slightly, "Who is this guardian angel?"

"I don't know, but after I was beaten half to death, he took me all the way to this inn."

"I think you should have been robbed." The abbot said with a frown.

"My belt is gone, and everything on it, my weapon..."

"I will try to make it up to you in the future. After all, William brought you to me. It is my responsibility. I will also investigate this matter."

"No offense, my lord, but I take this matter to myself."

"Impossible, child," Ambrosius refused forcefully, "Besides, what are you doing in the city after dark?"

Antar was silent for a while, he couldn't think of a convincing lie, so he decided not to lie, and mustered up the courage to speak slowly.

"No..." he said under his throat, "I..."

"Be honest, kid!"

"I can't tell you, my lord abbot." He finally said it, which was not something he should say to the abbot as an aide, "I can't talk to you about it."

Ambrosius couldn't believe his ears, he couldn't bear this rude behavior, his anger even surpassed his fear of William for a moment, and he was about to open his mouth to severely reprimand this brazen boy After a meal, he threatened him with expulsion and beating, but he held back abruptly.Antal could only see those wide eyes and a tight mouth.

"I ask for an explanation," he said coldly.

"Forgive me, my lord, I can't say anything, but I swear to you, I will give you an answer soon, and I will reveal a truth to you."

"For God's sake, what the hell are you talking about, boy?" Ambrosius clenched his hands into fists. "I have the right to kick you out of my monastery here and now!"

"I know."

There was silence between them, so quiet that one could almost hear Agnes' heartbeat, who was eavesdropping outside the door.

"Even if you know, don't you plan to say it?"

"I cannot say," Antar insisted, "not if it would get me expelled from the Order."

Ambrosius ruminated on the boy's words in his mind, and he was troubled by the same stubbornness as William, but he also appreciated his courage to admit his thoughts instead of prevaricating with lies.

"Okay." He turned and opened the door, and the surprised girl was looking at him.

"My lord." She bowed.

"The boy will stay here until he is fully recovered," the abbot said to the girl, speaking to Antal, "after that, if he stays here one more day, I swear to God, he will Will never be made a Templar!"

(End of this chapter)