Chapter 393 - 278: Christians Don’t Deceive Christians

Her skin had a healthy, sun-kissed tan, and her neck and arms were defined with the lean muscles that come from hard labor.

With her deep-set eyes and raven-black hair, she was the sort of girl who could easily lead a bored village boy astray. She was on the cusp of womanhood, a fact marred only by the fresh bruise on her chin from Eric’s blow.

To appear in a place like this at a time like this, she was undoubtedly a Corpse Raider, someone who scavenged battlefields for any valuables left behind when the fighting was over.

Her clothes were a clear mismatch. They were predominantly Arabian in style, but there were also Greek and Armenian garments mixed in. Of course, there were other pieces too, but nothing matched, looking as if she had scrounged them from ruins and roadsides on her travels.

She wore a slightly oversized robe with frayed cuffs, which she had carefully rolled up to reveal her lean arms and allow for freer movement.

An old cloth strip was tied loosely around her waist, cinching the robe so it still looked neat. Her pants were clearly from a different set, baggy and faded. She had rolled up the cuffs to reveal her clean ankles. She was barefoot; the tops of her feet were immaculate, but the soles were pitch-black.

There were no adornments on her ankles or wrists, though Eric suspected she owned some—she was probably afraid jewelry would interfere with her "business."

The girl’s clothes were in a heretical style, which instantly put the Knights on alert. They scrambled to their feet, drawing the longswords and axes from their belts and scanning their surroundings. The archers grabbed their bows and nocked arrows.

Some of the Knights started cursing out the sentries.

"And a little bonus," Belem said, picking up the curved saber the girl had dropped. He pressed the blade against her throat.

The girl was about to scramble up and run, but the sharp edge of the saber froze her in place. She slumped back to the ground.

"I... I’m... I’m a Christian!"

The girl must have noticed the crosses on the surcoats worn by Eric and his men, because she quickly rattled off the same declaration in Armenian, Greek, and Latin.

Belem was momentarily stunned by her linguistic assault. After a pause, he replied in a phrase of Arabic he had just learned, "How do you want to die, you mutt."

The girl quickly held up a wooden cross that hung from her neck, shaking it frantically before Belem and Eric.

The Knights let out a collective sigh of relief. Some sheathed their longswords, but others remained on guard.

Eric studied the girl, noting that the cross she held was a Latin Cross, not a Greek Cross.

"Even if you’re a Christian, our laws state that thieves have their hands chopped off," Eric threatened. "And since you tried to steal from the nobility, you’ll lose your feet as well."

The girl flinched. "Please, please don’t, my lord! I was starving. I’m sure a merciful man such as yourself can find another way for me to atone. Besides... besides, I-I-I haven’t even caused you any harm yet.

I... I’m just a homeless wanderer. I beg you, show some compassion! We all know that Christ preached a message of love. You wear the cross, so you must be Christ’s champion. Your enemies should be the wicked heretics.

Not a poor, young, devout Arabian Christian who has kept the true faith since birth—a wanderer who never knows where her next meal will come from!"

"Oh, yes. Of course there’s another way," Belem sneered after Priest John translated for him. He understood the girl’s plea and patted her cheek with the flat of his curved saber. "Time for the girl to serve her purpose."

"Ah, my lord, you mustn’t think that way! I’m only afraid of harming *you*! It’s not just the gonorrhea, I also have... uh, herpes! Yes, that’s it, herpes!" The girl feigned a couple of coughs, despite herpes having no such symptom. "Sometimes you have to endure things to survive... even priests keep their distance. A valiant man like you... I’d hate to see your glorious deeds ruined by such disgusting diseases!"

"Don’t worry, I don’t mind! I’m sick of plain, ordinary women. This adds a little spice." Belem tossed his curved saber aside and made a show of tugging at his trousers.

The girl blurted out, "I also have the Plague of Holy Fire!"

Belem frowned. "’The Plague of Holy Fire’? Sounds like some kind of mystical affliction."

The girl, sensing his hesitation, calmly continued to spin her tale. "That’s right. The Plague of Holy Fire. Legend says it’s a pestilence that can only be cleansed by the Holy Fire burning on a church altar. When it starts, your skin becomes hot, as if seared by the holy flames. Then your whole body turns red and breaks out in blisters. Finally, you start to give off a scorched smell. I couldn’t bear to see a man as brave as you tainted by this holy curse! Even Holy Officials must keep their distance."

Belem was starting to waver. "That... that doesn’t sound good."

Seeing her chance, the girl pressed her advantage. "My lord, just the smell of this plague from a distance will make you itch, to say nothing of touching it! There was a knight once who refused to believe me. In the end, his whole body itched as if it were being eaten by bugs, and his hands swelled up like pig’s trotters. He couldn’t even bear to ride his horse; he was completely bedridden. A great lord such as yourself absolutely cannot take such a risk!"

Belem hastily backed away several steps, and the other knights nearby quickly retreated as well.

The girl felt a flicker of secret delight at Belem’s hesitation, but she didn’t let it show on her face.

But then, Eric’s voice cut in.

"So, it would be much simpler to just cut off her hands and feet. It would save us time and effort, and it would preserve our dignity and honor.

As the Bible says, *Men do not despise a thief, if he steal to satisfy his soul when he is hungry; But if he be found, he shall restore sevenfold; he shall give all the substance of his house.*

Are we really going to let a thief who has insulted us simply walk away unscathed?

And she would win our forgiveness without paying any price at all." Eric picked up the curved saber Belem had dropped and walked over to the girl. He deliberately grabbed her wrist, tracing a line across it with the blade as if preparing to cut.

"No, no, no! I can pay! I’m valuable, my lord!" the girl cried, panicking.

"And what value is that?" Eric asked, tilting her chin up with the tip of the curved saber.

"I... I... I can be your... your dog..." She spat. "No, I mean, I can be your guide! I know this area like the back of my hand. Whether you’re here to conquer or to pillage, I can show you the best routes!" The girl raised her hands and tilted her head back, looking for all the world like someone perfectly willing to be a lackey, without a hint of shame.

The girl’s shameless pragmatism was almost funny to Eric.

"Is that so?"

"I swear it! I swear it! My lord, a Christian wouldn’t lie to another Christian!" the girl said, nodding frantically.

"And yet you were just about to steal our food, even though we are fellow Christians," Eric said, pinching her ear.

"Er... uh... I’m actually a bit night-blind," the girl stammered. She covered her eyes with one hand as if to prove her point, then spread her fingers to peek at Eric’s reaction through the gaps.

Eric’s gaze dropped to the girl’s neck. He reached out and yanked on the collection of pendants hanging there.

"A Latin Cross, a Greek Cross, a Star of David, a Crescent Pendant... and the most ridiculous of all, a piece of Walrus Ivory with Runic Runes and a carving of Odin’s head."

Eric handed the piece of Walrus Ivory to Lagman.

Lagman shot the girl a strange look.

"And you have the gall to call yourself a Christian," Eric said, shaking his head. He tapped her on the head with her own cross.

"A little competition between them isn’t a bad thing. Keeps them from getting complacent about us," the girl said with an awkward chuckle. Seeing Eric’s blank expression, she immediately dropped the smile, straightened her posture, and switched her tone, adopting a look of pious righteousness. "Er... what I mean is, I believe the holy Cross will suppress the gods of heresy and ensure that virtue and good deeds triumph over wickedness and evil."