Duke Amadeus' brain was spinning like a speeding carriage wheel. Under normal circumstances, he should not interfere in a duel where his personal reputation and life are at stake.
But no matter from the perspective of the upcoming battle or the long-term stability of the entire principality, losing either of these two vassals is undoubtedly unacceptable to him.
If Winter dies, he won't find anyone more suitable for the position of spymaster - the others are either too stupid, too impulsive, or too slow. If you want to find a trustworthy and capable person like Winter in a short period of time, it is better to go to the farmer's table and find a gold plate.
If Lange dies, before the new Count Dorsten is appointed, the soldiers and serf soldiers he brought will most likely pack up and go home directly - in fact, they are here all because of their opposition to The obligations of the earl or the remuneration paid to them by the earl.
However, Amadeus thought of a situation that might be worse than this - Simon might take the opportunity to assassinate Countess Josephine and her unborn heir. In this way, Simon became the new Earl of Dorsten. With the support of the Five Barons Alliance, dealing with Earl Wolf of Vitralburg was like knocking down an invulnerable mud wall. By then, Simon will become the most powerful and prestigious person in the entire duchy.
This idea made Amadeus a little scared. This was the first time he worried about Langer's life safety. At the same time, his heart felt like a wooden thorn was suddenly pierced. His eyes quickly scanned everyone's face, and when he saw Simon, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
After he thought about it this way, he always felt that this humble and capable baron seemed to hide ambitions far beyond everyone's imagination under his seemingly honest appearance.
However, this situation is only a possibility, and the Duke still has no reason or motive to oppose this duel.
"I have no objection to this duel." Amadeus paused and opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something else. Everyone stared at him like a dog that had been hungry for several days, looking forward to what he would do next, but they only received a sigh from him.
The Duke made up his mind that even if Lange died, he would not let Simon swallow the fruits of victory - he would let Winter, who was loyal to him, sabotage secretly and make the entire Five Baron Alliance fall apart. If necessary, he would use some means to make everyone in Simon become isolated and helpless.
But could things really take a turn for the worst? Amadeus thought painfully. Suddenly, he saw the wooden plate containing food on the table, and an idea of having the best of both worlds flashed through his mind. He grasped the idea like a butterfly.
After thinking for a moment, he breathed a sigh of relief and his eyes regained their luster.
At this time, as the two most prominent people at the table today, Winter and Lange both looked very surprised. Before entering this tent, no one could have imagined that only one of the two of them would leave here alive today.
The expression on Lange's face seemed a bit far-fetched, like a thief trying to stay calm. Obviously, his lifestyle is closer to that of a conspirator who stays behind the scenes all day long and is not good at fighting. Worse, he heard that even though Winter was a spymaster, he still honed his sword skills from time to time.
To be honest, his chances of winning are not great.
Langer couldn't help but think of the scene where his head and body were separated, which made his soles weak and fearful.
He wanted his knights to fight for him, but as long as he was healthy, this cowardly behavior was bound to make him the laughing stock of other nobles.
Among the martial Germans, even humble farmers would mercilessly laugh at his cowardice. Those meddling guys might give themselves a new title of "rat", which would be a real disaster.
"You two, do you want to invite the Duke to be the arbiter of this duel?" Although everyone knew the result, Baron Karl still followed tradition and asked the two people at the dinner table who were at war with each other.
The judge of a duel must be neutral and cannot take sides. Obviously, the troubled Duke Amadeus meets such conditions.
"certainly."
"I have no opinion."
Both Winter and Lange agreed quickly.
"Okay," the Duke nodded. He looked around the table and said in a pious tone, "I swear to God, I will do my best to judge this duel fairly."
None of the nobles at the table raised an objection.
Before the duelists could get up and go outside the tent, the Duke spoke again: "However, as the arbiter of this duel, I can make some rules for the duel."
This is normal and should surprise no one.
Just when everyone thought that the Duke would read out the traditional duel rules as usual, the Duke's words almost shocked everyone's jaws: "In this duel, both sides can only use wooden weapons."
"I don't quite understand, my dear Duke." Lange picked his ears in surprise, thinking he heard wrongly. Winter also looked stunned.
"God now requires us to point our swords at the pagans who are already in front of us, not at our fellow Christian brothers," Duke Amadeus argued slyly. "I believe that this duel should be a peaceful duel. . You are willing to risk your lives and use a duel to prove your honor. This is enough. I think God needs you to save your lives to fight the pagans and protect more Christians. Therefore, I think this duel should be made of wood. The weapons are justified."
There was silence in the tent.
"I agree with the Duke, this is God's will." Bishop Hans appeared at the door of the tent at some point, and everyone looked at him in surprise.
As a devout servant of God, Bishop Hans rarely dined with nobles since he was described by his competitors to the Archbishop of Cologne as a dissolute person who lived a luxurious life. Obviously, in order not to be caught, he rejected Lange's banquet invitation early this morning.
Behind the bishop was a monk holding an envelope. It seemed that he came here because he had something important to discuss with the duke. However, just as he arrived at the tent door, he happened to hear the Duke explaining why he had to duel with wooden weapons, so he came to his aid.
Now with the Bishop's assurance, the two duellists who had just wanted to raise objections were speechless. Perhaps, this is really God's arrangement.
Bishop Hans ignored the chattering nobles. He walked around the table, led the monk behind him to the Duke's side, whispered a few words in his ear, and then the monk handed the envelope to the Duke's hand. . This is the purpose of the bishop coming here.
Simon witnessed everything and felt that this was too unexpected. It happened so fast, with a dizzying reversal like the flapping of a hummingbird's wings in flight.
But he had to say that he admired the Duke's flexibility and adaptability. Even if one of the parties loses the duel, they can still wash away their sins in the battle against the heretics.
"Count Lange, if you have no objection, then go outside the tent," Winter pointed at Lange contemptuously, which made the always pampered Earl so angry that his head was smoking. "God will Prove that I told the truth, and I will smash your head with a stick."
Immediately, without waiting for Lange to respond, Winter stood up and walked out of the tent under everyone's direct gaze.
"As we all know, arrogant people often don't end well." After Langer finished speaking, he also stood up.
Simon only felt a little funny after hearing this. When did a guy like Lange have the right to call others arrogant?
The nobles in the tent stood up one after another and filed out of the narrow tent exit. This scene frightened the chef who was about to bring the food in.
The poor cook stood there as if he had lost his soul. He had been busy outside the tent and had no idea what was going on inside. He prayed that the reason why these people left the table would not be because of the food he had cooked.
However, the cook was surprised and fortunate to find that the nobles did not even look at him. Instead, they gathered in the open space in front of the tent and formed a large circle. There was no doubt that a duel was about to begin. The cook quickly put down the stew he was holding and joined the crowd watching the battle.
When the two sides of the duel took up positions in the small open space, this exciting scene was like a magnet that continuously attracted the idle soldiers nearby. Some of them held wine glasses in their hands and shouted excitedly under the stimulation of alcohol. There was a lot of yelling.
Everyone is shouting for the side they support, but most of them support Lange, because this is Lange's camp, and today Lange is indeed as generous as a saint to his soldiers. .
The two duelists put on armor with the help of their respective servants, and the atmosphere gradually became tense.
Brother Linde, who had just heard the news of the duel, also hurried over. With great difficulty, he squeezed through the smelly soldiers and squeezed into the inner circle of the crowd. At a glance, he saw the man who was putting on soft armor with the help of his servants. Lange.
No matter how bastard Lang was, he was Brother Linde's biological brother. Linde could not choose to stand by and watch after hearing the news, even though he knew that this duel was unlikely to result in anyone's death.
"For the honor of the Dorsten family, you'd better pray for me, Simon." Lange, who was ready, found Simon not far away from him, so he licked his chapped lips and said shamelessly.
"Lange, you know I won't. You should take the initiative to admit your fault," Simon said unmoved, holding his elbows, "This will be good for everyone."
"Ungrateful pig, I should really tie you up and roast you on the fire! When I win the duel, I will deal with you." Lange spat at Simon, and suddenly felt less nervous than before. This was exactly what he wanted, he just wanted to vent his emotions.
Lange impatiently put on the soft leather hat that fit close to his head, then tightened the belt around his neck with the help of his servants, and took the wooden shield and wooden club from Sir Gretel's hands.
Winter was almost ready. He put on a piece of leather armor over his soft armor, which could effectively buffer the damage caused by blunt objects.
The equipment is all put on. The two parties in the duel took their positions and prepared their starting stances, glaring at each other like ancient Roman gladiators.
More and more soldiers gathered outside, and everyone wanted to see a duel using wooden sticks as weapons. It's not like there are no such duels. Most people have only heard of them and have never witnessed them with their own eyes.
Simon noticed that Lange's hand was holding the stick firmly, a subconscious behavior in a tense state. Winter, on the other hand, was very relaxed. He weighed the stick and secretly estimated in his mind how hard he would swing the stick later.
"Let's begin." Duke Amadeus spoke.
The surrounding soldiers became restless, but neither Winter nor Lange was in a hurry to attack each other. Instead, they kept a distance, moved around each other, and changed their positions, waiting for the other party to reveal their flaws.
