Volume 2 - CH 4.3

The Templar commander Hildiger had come calling in secret — upon hearing of this, the royal prince Guiscard was not especially fazed.

It was because he had observed, “If Bodin were made of frozen stone, then that Templar commander would be a cheese held to flame. Firm to look at, but flimsy and pliant in substance.”

Having been offered a luxurious chair that was upholstered in, it was emphasized, actual velvet, Hildiger stretched out and reclined. Then, he began to speak in a grave, confiding tone.

“Allow me to be frank, Your Royal Highness. His Eminence the Archbishop is exceedingly disappointed in King Innocentius.”

In destroying the two great nations, heretic Maryam and heathen Pars, he had spread the glory of Ialdabaoth all the way to the East. That much was well done. It was from there that things went wrong. To fall in love with a heathen woman, and another’s wife besides, was most improper for a representative of the followers of Ialdabaoth…

As he listened to this talk, Guiscard chuckled to himself inside with a heh. That Hildiger had come to broach the topic at this point in time made his true intent quite easy to understand. This highfalutin Templar commander had no particular reason to swear undying loyalty to Bodin. He just wanted to sell himself off to the highest bidder.

“Well, Lord Commander, have you any edifying suggestions in mind regarding my royal brother?”

“Mere disappointment is still fine, but were such to transform into despair, I am afraid even we of his flock should no longer be able to intercede with His Eminence the Archbishop.”

The movement of Hildiger’s mouth forcefully jerked his auburn beard up and down in a hopping dance. It was a sight both strange and vulgar.

“My Lord Commander, if my brother were to void the goodwill of the Templars and thus sustain the consequence of excommunication, at that time, I wonder: with whom you would entrust the sovereignty of Lusitania?”

For Guiscard, this was a rather explicit manner of making the inquiry. Whether using more circuitous language or probing for each other’s true intentions, both actions were dependent on the other party. Hildiger’s avarice ran deep; inversely, he was capable of only the most shallow and petty of ruses, as Guiscard had seen through long ago.

Hildiger, unaware of this, made all the more effort to keep up appearances. “Essentially, Your Royal Highness, whatever we shall report to His Eminence the Archbishop should thereby open the doors to your honorable future, no?”

Guiscard concealed a cold smile and nodded. He sounded a small bell on his desk, summoning a servant.

The servant briefly took his leave before appearing once more, this time with his company increased ten times in number; each came in bearing immense packages one by one. To Hildiger, gazing on with a mix of amazement and expectancy, Guiscard offered a nonchalant statement.

“Consider these alms my personal offering to the Templars. A somewhat paltry amount, it pains me to say, but the goods confiscated from the Parsian heathens are almost entirely under the management of my brother and Archbishop Bodin, as you know. I shall endeavor to supplement it in the future, but for now, please accept this.”

Twenty thousand Parsian dinars, two hundred scrolls of high quality silk imported from Serica, ivory craftwork from Sindhura: all that and more were arrayed before them.

Among them, truly eye-opening for the Templar commander were the perle harvested from the Parsian coast. Large pearls around the size of his thumbnail, numbering around a thousand, all nestled against a deep crimson cloth. It was a sight he could have never possibly encountered in Lusitania. Hildiger sighed lustfully and wiped the sweat from his nape with his fingertips.

“My, my… Your Royal Highness is as generous as the rumors say. We of the Templars shall be most delighted. After all, as those who have taken holy orders, the meager funds allocated to aiding the poor and needy are not ours to use as we please.”

In this manner did Guiscard successfully take the first step in bribing the commander of the Templars. No matter what, Bodin had no intention of buttering up Hildiger. On this point, Guiscard was confident he had the upper hand.

Afterwards, Guiscard sent a single beautiful Parsian dancing girl to Hildiger’s lodging under the guise of “a petitioner for conversion.” This was, so to speak, the finishing blow.

That very night, the Templar commander Hildiger sank into a satisfied slumber.

As for whether or not he was still satisfied when he woke the next morning, not a soul could know. A terrible sight awaited the servant who came bearing breakfast to his master when he opened the door to the room. A bed transformed into a swamp of blood, and in it the corpses of a man and a woman who had breathed their last.