The crusaders arrived.
Their faces covered with ironic visor, their Falchion swords dripping with fresh blood, their waist full of bags of just looted wealth, and the most iconic thing, that red Crusader cross of Jerusalem is still on their chest plate and shield.
Bishop Balša stared at these incoming crusaders with a pair of freezing eyes, full of disgust and fury in his gaze as the crusaders approach.
"Halt!" The Bishop stopped these Crusaders from advancing.
The Crusaders was totally not expecting an old man to be seated right on their path to the local chantry, with all those fancy church decorations and flags they cannot account of behind that seat. These bunch of people does not only carry the title of Crusaders, they are once a bunch of professional rogues who excel in the art of privateer. They know very well what kind of people can they rob and what kind of people they cannot even think of laying there hands on, and they also know which building in the city stores the most wealth, which is of course the church. There are some cities in Sicilily and Italia where the local church is even more wealthy than the local nobles, and they fall easy prey.
"Old hag!" One Crusader went up and threatened the Bishop. "We are here looking for non believers of the True Faith and the Turks hiding amongst the crowd, do not stand in our way or else you will have a taste of my steel!"
The bishop just sat there and stared at him coldly.
The Crusader guessed that this old man might be a noble or prestigious icon in the city. Fearing the consequences of laying his hands on this old man, he did not dare to step up ahead and continued threatening in the same spot waving his sword. "Hey old man! You hear me! Get out of my way! Or I shall shove this blade down your freakin' arse!"
Bishop Balša smirked, not moving be a single bit, and continued watching the hobbling performance of the Crusader.
Just as the confrontation is going on, the redness on the moon is slowly fading away.
"The people inside the church…" Bishop Balša finally opened his mouth, vocalising his words slowly but steadily. "Are under the protection and custodian of the chantry, you are not allowed to do any form of checks or investigations in the church, it is the God's place, my place, everyone's place, but not your place."
"I do not give a damn, old hag!" The Crusaders let out a series of baleful laughter. "According to the laws of the Crusade, this city now belongs to Lord Tancred! And the lord said that we holy warriors have the right to check every building for suspicious Ottomans, and purify the city of its Ottoman past ruled by infidels! Actually, I am suspecting, that you might be on the side of the Ottomans now…"
Bishop Balša narrowed his eyes. "Lord Tancred, right? I remember that name now."
"Huh?"
"Do you want to know who I am? Soldier?"
The Crusader gulped holding the sword and backed off as the old man before him stands up and approaches. His instinct tells him that this old hag before him is of no simple background, he can feel it through his way of articulating his words, his temperament, and his eyes. And this means trouble, either he finish messing with this old man, or…
"My name is Balša, Balša Dukagjini of Avlonya, remember my name, for you shall hear my name again on the day of your execution, by the side of your lord." The old man continued walking forward, step by step, with an aura that is irresistible to the Crusaders. "You can refer me as the bishop of this city, I am in charge of communicating with the God, Christ, and churches of the east and west. Yes, with the Holy See as well…"
"… If you dares to touch my property, the God's property, I shall write a letter of Request for Excommunication to His Most Holiness the Pope, and you, together with that Lord Tancred, yes I remember the name, shall be excommunicated… Your titles, honours and wealth shall be usurped, land confiscated, and left starving on the streets of your home town looked down and disgraced by everyone else, including your family…"
The Crusader dropped his sword gaping.
"… Your name, shall be on the pillar of shame forever, spitted at and disrespected by good Christians for the next millennium to come, your name shall be the name of unfaithful, no one will have the same name with you until the end of time. You shall be remembered as a traitor of Christianity, with you and your lord's name in line with Judas Iscariot, if you ever dare to touch my sanctified body and church with that smeared sword of traitor, you, souls, shall, burn… Is that clear, soldier?"
The Crusaders gulped and started retreating.
"Now I order thee to pass the message, leave us be! For I shall not include your names and your deeds in the letter to His Most Holiness." Bishop Balša continued shouting from a distance away even after the Crusaders left. Seeing the Crusaders are finally out of his sight disappearing from the streets, he heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed back in his seat.
Almost every clergy, nun, man, woman, elderly, children in the chantry who witnessed what has just happened hurried out of the gate to lift and support the bishop back to safety inside the gates. Bishop Balša opened his eyes feeling that he has been lifted into the air and saw the familiar ceiling of the nave, then he smiled satisfactorily and closed his eyes one more; He has depleted his energy confronting the Crusaders, and he needs a rest.
The bishop got a hero, no, a saint's welcome back into the church carefully lifted by countless hands of his followers onto a couch in front of the Altar, no one dares to disturb the bishop resting, everyone remained quiet and started praying silently thanking the bishop in front of God for creating such an unbelievable miracle.
The people of Avlonya inside the church are safe, for now.