Chapter 455 - 324: Squeeze Them Dry

The Persian Physician Joseph’s daughters were twins, about twelve or thirteen years old and of marriageable age.

They were short and plump, with healthy, light brown skin. Their black hair and slightly flat noses made them nearly indistinguishable from one another.

Joseph had left the smaller of the two girls and his sons behind in the village.

He set out with Eric, bringing only his wife and one daughter.

Eric had Joseph ride a donkey up ahead while he walked behind with Joseph’s wife and daughter to prevent any escape attempts.

After walking for about ten minutes, they stopped just as they were about to exit the mountain pass.

A fairly large village was nestled just outside the valley. A bridge, nothing more than a massive stone slab, spanned a stream that might have once been a river.

The distance was great enough that the scene would be blurry to a normal person, but for Eric, the view was perfect.

A crowd was gathered in the village. The men were nearly all bearded, and the women’s faces were almost completely veiled, leaving only their eyes visible. They were clearly Muslims. They were angrily pleading with a group of armored men while some of the women wept.

Eric could guess what they were pleading about, but that wasn’t important. He shifted his gaze to the armored men.

There were no horses nearby, so they likely weren’t cavalry. Of the twenty men, only two wore Chain Armor and appeared to be the leaders. The rest were dressed in Leather Armor or Cloth Armor, accompanied by a group of weapon-wielding farmers.

These soldiers were likely part of that army. The others were probably on the far side of the village, but they had to be nearby.

Eric didn’t believe any sane Commander would allow a hastily assembled army to be so spread out, especially when the enemy’s numbers were unknown.

Joseph was so anxious he nearly screamed, but Eric punched him to calm him down.

"Joseph, it’s time to deal with them." Eric patted Joseph’s shoulder and handed him a dagger.

"Me?" Joseph’s voice trembled as he pointed to himself.

"Us," Eric added with a sigh.

As he spoke, Eric grabbed some mud from the ground and smeared it on Joseph’s face, then wiped some on the girl’s face as well.

"Remember, my name is Farhad, a leper, and I’m your caravan guard. You are Ahmed, a merchant. Your caravan was attacked by a mob and the Crusaders after passing through that village, and now you’re heading to Hama City to seek refuge."

"You’ll protect us, won’t you?" Joseph asked again, his hand trembling as he tucked the dagger into his sleeve.

"Of course. I’ll do everything I can. Remember, you’re not doing this for me, but for the people of your village. And I’m not doing this for myself, but for all of you."

Eric urged them forward.

However, Joseph’s wife began to wail as if at a funeral, and Eric hissed at her to be quiet.

Then, a few hundred paces from the village, he stopped and had everyone except Joseph wait.

"Now it’s just you and me," Eric said to Joseph.

"I think you should handle them alone," Joseph whispered, then screamed.

He screamed because Eric slapped the donkey’s rump, causing it to bolt forward. Eric quickly caught up to him.

"Remember," Eric continued, his voice a threat. "I am Farhad, a leper, and your caravan guard. You are Ahmed, a merchant. Your caravan was attacked by a mob and the Crusaders after passing through that village."

"If you betray me and expose my true Identity, I will kill you, your wife, and your sons. Then I’ll sell your daughter into prostitution. Do you understand?"

"Farhad," he stammered.

"Farhad the leper," Eric stressed.

Soon, they entered the village.

[Skill Triggered—Common Folk! Effect: While in a village or town, Power, Agility, Stamina, and Eloquence +1]

A system notification sounded.

The village was crude and poor, its stone huts topped with sod roofs. In the center of the village, at least thirty or forty townspeople were being guarded. Off to one side, near the stone slab bridge, a table and several benches had been set up on the grass.

The man in charge soon spotted Eric. He had a flat, wide face and a single fierce eye. Why only one? Because the other was just a wrinkled, empty socket.

The man looked sturdy. His long hair was braided, and his thick beard gave him an imposing air. He wore Leather Armor covered by a layer of Chain Armor decorated with traditional Turkic patterns. Two swords hung at his waist: a Longsword and a Short Sword.

"Ah, guests have arrived. Perhaps you were sent by Allah so I might show these imbeciles what a true believer looks like. I’ve always had a fondness for Persians; they’re intelligent and reasonable." The man identified Joseph as a Persian at a glance. He deliberately stood up and loudly announced the arrival of Eric and Joseph to the surrounding villagers, then smiled and motioned for Joseph to sit on the bench at the table. "My name is Balha, a Commander under Yajisiyan, the Governor of Hama." He tapped his fingers incessantly on the table, speaking in Persian with a heavy Turkic accent as he looked at Joseph. "I hope you can demonstrate for me—and for this crowd of shit-for-brains Arabs—what a true servant of Allah ought to be. A true believer should understand how to sacrifice himself for Allah."

Balha had little interest in suppressing the rioting Christians. In truth, he had never seriously commanded more than a few battles. His appointment as Commander of this counter-insurgency force was a complete fluke. Hama City only had so many competent officers, and Yajisiyan had dispatched them all to Damascus to help Tutush suppress the rebellion in the Damascus Duchy and curry his favor.

’Although he knew that common rioters would crumble at first contact with well-trained soldiers, he still couldn’t shake his anxiety. He’d been a fine warrior in his youth, right up until a reckless charge led to his capture by the enemy. Even now, the memory of those days in Hell made him shudder.’

’He much preferred hunkering down behind the city walls to marching out for a direct confrontation with the enemy.’

’There was no need to risk your life so desperately in war. He had already paid an eye for his own past bravery and foolish loyalty, and what had he gotten for it? Nothing. No one had even come to ransom him. If he hadn’t been lucky enough to escape, he’d have been sold as a slave by now.’

’But with a bit of quick thinking and a lot of ass-kissing, you could easily earn far greater rewards than you ever would by charging into the fray.’

’So there was no way he was going to fight recklessly like a mad dog, the way his other Turkic compatriots did.’

’He wanted nothing to do with that sort of thing anymore. He planned to slack off for a bit. After all, there was no disciplinary squad overseeing this operation. In fact, Hama City didn’t have enough men to form one unless they sent out the entire city garrison.’

’He knew that rebellious mobs tended to grow over time. If the mob got big enough, Governor Yajisiyan would realize the current force was insufficient to suppress it. Then he, Balha, would be relieved of this high-risk assignment.’

’And in the meantime, while he was slacking off, he could do something he quite enjoyed: squeeze a bit of profit out of these Arabs.’