Around the middle of August we returned to Jerusalem. Saladin was busy with the siege at the Fort of Ashkelon. I was informed that he had already conquered the forts of St. John in Acre, Nablus, Jaffa, and Sidon. Jerusalem would be next...
I gave the reins of Thunder, my faithful and beloved horse, to my squire to take care of it and shoe it. I gave to one of my attendants my destroyed chainmail, my chain hood and helmet for replacement and then I presented myself to report to our Order commander.
Afterwards, I exited Al-Aqsa and headed to my sleeping quarters, exhausted. The flicker of a candle poured a faint light on the small table I used for writing. My attention was drawn by a small note in the exact middle of the table. I sensed something was not right in the room. I moved closer to the flicker to read the note. It said:
Welcome back from the dead, Brother!
I didn't have time to leave the note on the table when I felt an almost imperceptible movement behind me and then an arm closed around my neck.
I reacted instantly in order to get rid of the deadly grip that hindered my breathing. I calculated my enemy's position and then lifted my leg high and kicked backwards with all my might. A muffled "ouch" was heard and the grip relaxed a little. I immediately hit his stomach with my elbow. I felt his breath on my neck as the intruder doubled in pain and, freed, I linked my hands at the height of my chest and turned abruptly to the right and backwards, blindly attacking him. I struck his face and he slumped in front of the door with a thud.
"Cut it off, you'll kill me my Brother!" a very familiar voice cried.
"Your crude jokes are going to kill you, Victor" I told him as I approached and helped him on his feet.
"I hope you feel healthy as steel soon!" he wished me and we embraced.
"Thanks, I already carry enough metal!" I joked.
"Come, dinner is being served. I've been eating alone from our bowl so long. I missed you, Brother John."
"I missed you too, my weird friend! Wait for me to change and off we go," I said.
"Not bad for someone who came back from the dead. It hurts, my brother" he grumbled rubbing his chin.
That was my Latin brother, Vittorio. I called him Victor because "vittoria" in his native language meant victory.
We shared a long and strong friendship as we had many common interests and used to spend what little free time we had talking about philosophy, poetry, history, and a lot more. He was very well educated but also sharp tempered, which had won him the nickname "Hot-headed".
He was robust and agile with the sword but miraculous with a bow and arrow on horseback. He might as well have been the only knight using this unconventional weapon. That was Victor, though!
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The Templar's Sword (Kindle Edition/ISBN 978-618-84874-4-4)
Tiểu thuyết Lịch sửΜy name in Hebrew means: Gift of God, God has been generous, or something like that anyway. I offered my services for thirteen whole years in the Kingdom of Jerusalem protecting the pilgrims of the Holy Land. I traveled to the ends of the earth; I m...
