He's in Love with the Devil.

Chapter 31: The Iron Horsemen of the Rose

"So, you're telling me that he left Tru City on his own accord with the men from the negotiating mission and came to Metzl?"

The king and the Duke of Buckingham were standing on the railing in the pavilion, and when he heard the Duke of Buckingham's words, the king seemed to be a bit interested.

"And what do you propose? Do you think I should execute him?"

The Duke of Buckingham smiled slightly, realizing that his thoughts coincided with those of his nephew: "No, I have come to plead with you on his behalf."

"Reason?"

The king did not move to anger.

"Because he's a romantic idealist - in the words of those court poets." The Duke of Buckingham sighed, "He's so idealistic that the reinforcements Archduke Grice originally wanted to bring in were actually him, but after Archduke Grice defected to the Holy Court, he chose to press on."

"A brave, righteous to the point of being somewhat foolish."

The king placed his evaluation.

"Sounds like you were impressed." The Duke of Buckingham asked with interest.

"Of course." The king smiled, "A general who can hold a stalemate with the Bolesi Expeditionary Force for nearly a month while nearly out of ammunition, even if he's a fool, he's a fool who needs special attention."

The Duke of Buckingham laughed out loud, "Yes, sire. That's just it - the guy is politically stupid, but a brilliant military genius."

The king didn't care about hundreds of nobles, but he definitely cared about a military genius, a general who could willingly risk his life for his soldiers. He could tolerate a devil who tried to kill him twice in a row, let alone a general who was a romantic overachiever.

In a few words, uncle and nephew agreed.

The wind was blowing again, the snow was falling, and the Duke of Buckingham, with a careless glance at the Black Tower, suggested to the king that it was time to go back, as Baron Sheen had been waiting at the palace for some time.

"He will not care to wait longer."

Despite this, the king left the pavilion.

..................

Ta, ta, ta…

Drop by drop, the blood fell onto the cold rocks, and the Mad Queen pressed her face dead against the cold iron bars as she gazed in fascination at the king's fading back in the snow.

"My child, my child, Pulran, my Pulran!!!"

The king's figure was finally hidden by the wind and snow, and the voice that the Mad Queen had suppressed dead in her throat finally burst out. She threw back her head and howled in ecstasy and agony.

"My child! Pullan! He lives! He lives!"

Her voice carried a long echo in the dark tower.

"Yes, he lives."

The Duke of Buckingham's voice rang out calmly.

The Mad Queen turned around violently and saw the scarlet cloaked Duke of Buckingham standing not far behind her.

The Duke of Buckingham's gaze landed on the Mad Queen's hand, and he revealed a complex expression of "It's true," "It's something you can do."

The Mad Queen's hand held a thin slice of black iron blade. She herself grasped the iron blade with her left hand, and the blade sank deep into the Queen's palm, so deep that she feared it was almost embedded into the bone. The Mad Queen's hands were covered in blood, and that blood was now frozen by the cold weather, making it look extraordinarily horrible.

Seeing her like this, the Duke of Buckingham was instantly able to guess what had really happened.

It was thought that the Mad Queen had originally wanted to use this opportunity to assassinate the King. Don't underestimate the humble iron blade in her hand, it had been sharpened to be light, thin, and incredibly sharp, and with Eleanor's skill, with the help of the right winds at such a distance, she had the complete means to kill anyone under the high tower.

This was the warrior queen of Herculean fame back then.

However, at the last moment, when the iron blade was about to fly out, the Queen herself held the blade.

She recognized the king.

"Are you awake?"

The Duke of Buckingham asked, and both Elinor understood the meaning of the words.

"Awake."

The Queen opened her hand so hard that the bloody ice shattered and rustled to the floor. She leaned wearily against the wall and tilted her head.

"This nightmare, it took so long."

"William told you the answer from the beginning, you should have some faith in us." The Duke of Buckingham took on a slightly chastising tone, "Pullen - we weren't in a position to reveal too much to you when it came to the Pope himself, but we thought you'd be able to understand knowing the name."

Pullan, on the surface, means "honor."

But in the ancient Rogaland language, there is another hidden meaning "the beauty that is broken and fallen, but will eventually rise to nirvana."

"No." The Queen interrupted the Duke of Buckingham's words, she sneered, "Do you think I don't know the meaning?"

"Then why do you?"

The Duke of Buckingham became more and more puzzled, a doubt that had plagued him for more than ten years.

"I hid ...... from you," the Queen paused, "I held the secret spell. Then I saw ......"

Her tone began to fade again.

"What did you see?" The Duke of Buckingham pursued.

The Queen reached up and pressed her hand to her forehead, and even though she was awake now, the pain whistled once more at the recollection of it all, and she growled in a low fury, "I saw him die! I saw him die ...... over and over again! I thought you had failed!"

Her low roar carried so much intense hatred and sorrow, and the object of that hatred included not only the Holy Court, but also the Duke of Buckingham-even William III. For so many years, the Queen had struggled with this hatred.

The Duke of Buckingham froze in place.

The Queen tilted her head back, tears streaming down her face.

"I saw him die before my eyes ...... over and over again. And I couldn't save him! I couldn't save my child!!!"

"How long?"

The Queen gave a smile so sad it was almost twisted, "Over ten years, always."

"Relax, Eleanor." The Duke of Buckingham softened his voice, "Either way it's over now, we won the bet."

"Yeah, won." The Queen turned her face sideways as she gazed dully in the direction the King had left, "My boy, my Purran ...... we won, he's finally growing up healthy and safe."

"What are you going to do now? Go see him?" The Duke of Buckingham asked.

"No."

The Queen refused.

She reached up and gathered her hair, and her face, which despite its alarming thinness still exuded a strange beauty, revealed a look familiar to the Duke of Buckingham. Sober, calm, and resolute: "I cannot appear now. There must be a reason why the secret method went wrong ...... I think the astrologers must have had a hand in it in the first place. Those damn astrologers, they did such a good job after defecting to the Holy Court, what a bunch of loyal dogs."

"Give me a list of the astrologers who were active more than ten years ago."

"What are you going to do?"

The Duke of Buckingham had a familiar, bad feeling.

"Kill them."

The knife-sharp sharpness in the Queen's eyes suddenly coalesced, and she was as thin as a pair of withered bones, yet when she uttered these words, the air seemed to clash with the sound of gold and iron for an instant.

Tooth for tooth, eye for eye, blood for blood.

Whoever took away her lover and put her child in that dangerous gamble, then she would go and kill them! She even dared to kill Divine Grace, let alone just a bunch of Sacred Court lackeys.

The Duke of Buckingham sighed quietly.

He knew that Elinor wasn't joking.

She had done this sort of thing a long time ago-perhaps the greater part of the king's character followed his mother.

That was twenty-one years ago.

William III had gone on a campaign, and there had been a massive revolt in three of the southern states of Rogaland, with many lords joining the mutiny. William III and the Duke of Buckingham took the vast majority of the army with them. The gates of Mertz Castle were opened by the inner circle, and the lords rushed all the way to the front of the Rose Palace.

Those rebels thought they would see the timid and pleading Queen with the servants of the palace.

They did see the Queen.

The queen who stood in front of the palace gates in her armor, one man and one horse.

She was clad in scarlet robes, which were tossed by the wind, as if she was standing in the midst of burning flames. Carrying a long iron spear, she looked indifferently at the stunned rebel lords, and with a wave of her iron spear, she drew a long line in front of the royal palace.

"I know what you all want to do."

The Queen's voice was icy cold, and the back of the Rose Palace loomed behind her warhorse.

"If you want it, come and get it."

"All the glory, wealth, and power you want, I can give it to you. There is no need for you to fight or rob."

"As long as you have the life to take it!"

As she spoke, servants poured out of the palace and threw buckets of oil onto the ground in front of the palace. The lords cried out in alarm, realizing that the sides of the streets around them had long since been filled with kerosene. And in the midst of their startled commotion, the queen received a torch from her attendant.

As soon as the torch fell to the ground, the flames would engulf everyone, including the Queen herself, in an instant.

The queen held the torch in one hand and the lance in the other.

"Come!"

Why would they think that with William III gone, the palace would be left unguarded? Left in the heart of this empire was the warrior queen who was enough to rival William III in beauty and madness.

The lords were stunned by the queen and, after a long standoff, prepared to leave.

However rooftops on either side appeared with archers who had finally arrived, morose arrows pointed at the rebellious nobles. The Queen held up a torch, the light of the fire reflecting her face as she watched the rain of arrows slamming down from the sky. Bodies littered the main entrance of the Rose Palace, and the blood spread all the way down to the Queen's warhorse.

The biggest m******e against the great nobles in Rogaland's history was accomplished by Queen Elinor.

The Duke of Buckingham suddenly remembered the day when the king casually said that he would simply kill all of the new king's party ......

It's really a lineage.

"Stay in Rogaland for a while first. Look at you now, who would recognize you as the former queen?" The Duke of Buckingham's head ached a little, but the burden in his heart was finally completely put down, "You don't want him to really lose his mother after being fatherless, do you?"

These words had a greater effect on the Queen.

"Arrange a hidden room for me, a secure identity, to be able to see him every day, and not be too far away from him." The Queen glared angrily at the Duke of Buckingham for a moment and ordered.

It was familiar arrogance, familiar prickly and commanding tone.

The Duke of Buckingham felt that the most commanding Elinor he knew was back.

"It's time for you to change your temper."

He said hopelessly.

"Anyway ......"

The Duke of Buckingham gave a smile that removed his exhaustion, "Welcome back, Eleanor."

"I woke up, as well as ...... also see how you look now, you age so fast." The Queen was silent for a long time, and also gave a relieved smile, "He will be a true king, like his father."

"He will."

The long, long nightmare was finally over.

Nearly a thousand years had passed since the Rosebuds' crown had been shrouded in God's gloom, and it was time to bring it back to its full glory.

..................

Baron Sheen walked into the Rosebud Palace.

At this moment, he was rather calm.

As he led the cavalry to stand guard on that cold night, he had already prepared that he would die without a burial place. Without such determination, how could he dare to draw his bowstring against the king.

Baron Sheen met the king.

He was sitting by the window of his study, and the sunlight fell through the glass window onto the king's body. It felt exactly the same as when Baron Sheen first saw him, the king was the most gorgeous rose watered by the most expensive and luxurious cultivation in this court. Almost aggressive.

"Good day, Mr. Sheen."

The King stopped the file he was going through, and he looked calmly at Baron Sheen.

Baron Sheen had known on that stormy night that their majesty the king was by no means what he appeared to be - defeating an entire army of Gurundi heavy cavalry was not something that just anyone could do. He walked in silently and slowly knelt down without making a sound.

Baron Sheen hung his head down so he couldn't see the king's expression, only to hear him speak in a nonchalant manner.

"I have heard that you have entertained my negotiating team for some time, and I hope that this has not burdened you further. You returned them to the city of Metzel in one piece today, is that correct? Sir."

"Yes, intact."

"Excellent." The king let out a soft chuckle, "You did something right after all."

"All the officers of the negotiating mission are in the inn outside Metzl. The contract is intact as well." Baron Sheen spoke slightly faster, "The knights of Tru City are loyal to you, I am the only one who made the wrong choice, and it was they who escorted me to the capital this time. I ask that Your Majesty's wrath not fall on their heads."

The king did not answer his question directly, but gently tapped on the armrest, "Let me guess what you intend to do."

"Your knights are fully armed and you choose for them the nearest inn to the crossroads. You then come to me alone and unarmed to plead for your knights. If I refuse, then your knights have the opportunity to evacuate as quickly as possible, or at worst they take the negotiating group hostage in exchange for their own safety. And you are planning to throw your life away at the palace, are you?"

Baron Sheen did not answer.

"You are truly a lone warrior." The king praised, and his words suddenly changed, "But unfortunately, sir. As you arrived at the palace, those loyal men of yours couldn't help but follow you closely into the city. Their skill in disguising themselves was lame enough that my uncle sent them to prison to reflect on it."

Baron Sheen's head snapped up as he subconsciously went to touch his waist.

The touch was empty.

He then remembered that he had handed over his accessories to the guards when he stepped into the Rose Palace this time.

"There is no need to be so nervous, sir. The king noticed his subconscious movement, "The people I want to kill can be lined up from the entrance of the palace to the entrance of the castle, you and your brave-to-foolish soldiers are not qualified enough to be put at the top of the list."

With a great fall and a great rise, Baron Sheen remembered the rumors he had heard in the meantime that the nobles of the New King's Party had been exploited by the king to the point of emptying almost every penny out of their pockets, "I would offer you all that I have. Please forgive their recklessness."

"I don't need your loyalty, I don't need your oaths, those things aren't even worth a penny." The king leaned back in his crimson chair and looked at him contemptuously, "As for riches that would be fine, but I don't think you'll be able to come up with them."

"What do you need then?"

Baron Sheen didn't think the king could be equated with forgiveness.

The King picked up the file in his hand, which he had organized and handed to Baron Sheen. Baron Sheen took it and flipped through it. His face showed a stunned look, which quickly grew more and more grave.

Finally he looked up in dismay, looking at the king, and a guess surfaced in his mind.

"I want an army."

The king said slowly.

Not an army borrowed from anyone, not an army ordered to be brought in by nobles in time of war, not an army paid to be hired, but an army belonging to the king alone, an army that could rival the heavy cavalry of the Gurundi. From generals to commanders to soldiers, from armor to battle flags, it would be subject to the will of the king alone.

Baron Sheen's suspicions were confirmed.

The king is determined to push through to the end what his father failed to do.

He wanted to reform the military system!

"And how determined, are you?"

The king coldly surveyed Baron Sheen.

Baron Sheen inhaled deeply, the cold air filled his lungs, in the social conditions where the knight system and the aristocratic system were intertwined, wanting to make a change, no need to think about it to know that it would be a thing that would face much resistance and bloodshed. Once failed, the king may be able to be safe and sound, but he will definitely be shattered.

But wasn't this exactly what he had longed for countless times before?

It wasn't just a danger, it was an opportunity he never thought he could actually get.

He heard his breathing become rapid, the thing he had previously fantasized about close at hand.

"At your service!"

The king flashed a smile.

He picked up another commission from his desk that had already been written and handed it to Baron Sheen.

"What will you call this army of yours?"

Baron Sheen took the commission and did not bother to read the contents of it, but asked the king.

"Rosebud."

The king looked out of the window, his gaze seeming to skim over the entire lofty Rosebud Palace.

"The Rosebud Iron Horsemen."

October, 1432.

The furious waves of military change begin to brew, and one bitter winter morning in the study of the royal palace, the Rosebud Iron Horseman takes formal shape. The King would have the first army that would submit only to the will of the Crown.

Author's Notes:

Here's a bit of a discussion of the medieval Black Death, it's a bit long, so readers who aren't interested can just skip it.

There have been three large-scale Black Death outbreaks in history, each of which was a cataclysmic event, and even in today's technologically advanced world, the Black Death (bubonic plague) is something that can easily cause panic.

In order to combat the Black Death, European governments cut off maritime trade, but this was only a stopgap measure to stop the spread of the Black Death, and the time spent on hold limited government revenues.

Medieval medicine and science were in an age of obscurity, and during the second pandemic it was difficult to determine what the causative agent was, with popular theories ranging from God's punishment to astrology and various scapegoating claims.

Discipline of God was often associated with the millennial kingdom and the end of days, and many people believed in it. Let's take a look at the epistle of one of the three Renaissance masters, Francesco Petrarch: "This phenomenon signifies the wrath of God against the sins of mankind, and if the sins disappeared, the punishment of God would be lessened". As well as the "Judgement of the Solar Membrane at the Feast of Saturn", the Chronicles of Nicaea, etc., we can get a glimpse of what was going on at that time.

Astrology attributed the Black Death to the inauspiciousness of the stars, and this is where the literary material in this article comes from. Of course, in real life we have to trust science.

References:

[1] Descartes, The Plague Chronicles.

[2] The Black Death [American] Joseph P. Bourne

[3] The Flagellation Movement in Western Europe During the Black Death by Li Hwa-sung

[4] The Decline of the Middle Ages [Netherlands] John Heuzinha