“These Riders are dangerous and they must be stopped!” said a short fat man, his hair long, red and flowing like a lion’s mane and his beard like a thick, burning, red thicket on his face.
“Silence!” shouted a tall handsome man who looked to be about 40 years old and was heavily dark complexioned. A sudden hush fell over the crowd as the tall man stood, his arms so large that his sleeves bit into them, walking toward the short fat man with his finger pointed at the man.
But the fat man didn’t move, he didn’t protest and he didn’t try to defend himself; when Lord Alard of Montferrat spoke: everyone listened. Alard wasn’t the oldest Lord but was the most respected in all of Jerusalem: the left hand of the King, the main defender of the city and the most physically intimidating of them all, as he towered over everyone there.
He stepped toe to toe with the fat man and stared down at him, the fat man never raising his head up, to afraid to make eye contact.
“You would do well to keep your mouth shut and take your seat, Reynald.” Alard said firmly but without raising his voice.
Reynald sat down so fast that it looked more like his legs were swept out from under him; Alard then turned and addressed the others.
“We come here to address actual issues facing the kingdom and to form a plan to combat the threats that travels face; right now, a massive caravan of people is making their way to Jerusalem, and many threats lay along the path.” Lord Alard turned and glared down at Reynald.
“And there are some here that have the nerve to demand we, instead, waste our men and resources to find and punish two riders who’ve been doing our job for us because we’d rather attack these travelers over differences or a sense of superiority.”
He turned back to the crowd and raised his voice again. “Are the Templars the only ones who haven’t abandoned their mission for greed? Are we the gatekeepers of the holy land now? Do we dare say who can and can’t enter? Is the city ours or God’s?”
“Lord Alard lives up to his nickname in front of us all.” said a short haired young man with short, sun-bleached hair and an athletic build. “We are tasked to protect all people of Jerusalem and the way we do that is to guard the gate of the city and attack the threat head on, on the road.”
“Sit down, Lord Tiberius.” Alard demanded.
“Maybe you should sit down, Fox.” Reynald said softly.
The comment was meant to be said under his breath, but Alard heard it and he spun around violently and snatched the fat man up by his shirt.
“So help me, Reynald, I’ll…”
“Alard.” Came a muffled voice from behind him.
The voice came from The Leper King Baldwin IV; a mask fixed over his face as he held up a gloved hand and shook his head gently.
“There is no need for violence here amongst us, my friend.”
Alard nodded and put Reynald down and turned to face his King as Baldwin continued.
“I have been patient with you all for a very long time; many of you have done horrible things to the people traveling on the road on their way here, even so much as staging attacks just outside the city walls. People of the city often come to your defense; but now, two riders have taken it upon themselves to do the job that you were tasked to do but refuse to do. I condemn any violence towards travelers and towards these two men.”
Nobody said a word; they just exchanged looks as, Baldwin IV, paused before continuing.
“Now, let us talk about the task at hand: this caravan of people need protection, and the Templars are already full on tasks. Who will take on this task?”
“We’ll take on the task.” Came a voice that was unfamiliar to the Lords, and they turned and stared at the two Riders who’d, somehow, sneaked into the secret meeting without them knowing or seeing.
As many of the Lords stood and began to draw their swords, King Baldwin IV shouted.
“Stand down!”
Again, the Lords exchanged looks but did as they were commanded then the King asked what everyone else wanted to know.
“Tell us, what are your names?”
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