After a simple lunch, Baron Otto instructed a servant to escort Mike Bai to his room to rest, while he remained behind to discuss matters with the knights.
Mike Bai returned to his room, lying on the bed, tossing and turning. Finally, he decided to take a walk. He stepped out of the main building and wandered aimlessly through the estate, exploring the unfamiliar surroundings.
Compared to the gloomy castle, the estate was far more livable. The low wooden walls protected livestock from wild beasts, and busy servants worked the fields outside, tending to crops like grapes and wheat. Shepherds drove flocks of sheep to graze on fresh grass, while stable hands carried buckets of water to wash the horses in the stables.
"This is what pastoral life should be like," Mike Bai thought contentedly. He continued his exploration of the main building, checking out the western kitchen and the servants' quarters before finally reaching the study on the second floor.
The study looked very old, with only a few books displayed on the shelves. On the desk lay an unsealed letter. Driven by curiosity, Mike Bai climbed onto the desk and opened the letter.
"To the Most Reverend Archbishop of Mainz," it began.
"I have heard that His Holiness the Pope has issued a decree calling upon the Lord's warriors to journey to the Holy Land to protect pilgrims from the heathen, and that those who join the Crusade will receive the Lord's forgiveness and absolution. Though the Adler family is weak, I am still willing to answer the Pope's call and join the Knights Templar, living a life of poverty and carrying the sword of the Lord. I humbly ask that you provide me with a letter of recommendation, and the Adler family will offer their deepest gratitude in return."
"This doesn't look good," Mike Bai muttered to himself, frowning. "I barely escaped the clutches of the monastery, thought I'd found a solid, stable path, and now it turns out that solid path is about to leave me."
"I'm just a 9-year-old boy. Without that solid support, what will I do if I run into bandits or a stronger lord?" He rubbed his cheek in frustration. Living on bread and dark, tasteless stew every day wasn't the life he had imagined for himself.
Thinking back on everything that had happened over the past year, was he really just going to live like an ordinary little noble? Would he drift aimlessly, stuck in this monotonous existence?
Recalling his small ambition, Mike Bai clenched his fist.
"Then again, this situation might not be without its advantages," he murmured, a glint of something different appearing in his eyes as he gently rubbed his stomach.
That night, Baron Otto sat alone in the study. The dim candlelight flickered over his face, casting shadows as he picked up the letter from the desk, sighed, sealed it with wax, and stamped it with his family crest.
"Poor little Mike Bai." Though they would be separated for only three days, Baron Otto was deeply concerned for his nephew. The thought of leaving him to face whatever hardships awaited troubled him greatly, and for a moment, he considered burning the letter.
But then his wife's face appeared in his mind. "Beautiful, kind Eve. She did not deserve such a fate. She should have ascended to Heaven, guided by angels, not perished in the judgment of the end times." Baron Otto was torn, caught between his family duties and his love for his late wife.
"Almighty Lord, what should I do?" he silently prayed.
"Uncle Otto, are you there?" A young voice called from the doorway.
"Of course," Otto replied, hiding the letter.
Mike Bai gathered his courage, opened the door, and looked at Otto with an expression full of sadness.
"What's wrong, my little Mike Bai?" Baron Otto rose and gently placed Mike Bai on a chair, his voice soft.
"Do you not want me anymore?" Mike Bai placed his hands flat on his lap, pressing down hard with his right hand. Tears quickly filled his eyes.
"Of course not. Uncle is just going away for a little while, but I'll be back soon," Otto reassured him.
"You're lying!" Mike Bai slammed his hand against his own lap, and the tears that had been welling up burst forth. "I saw the letter. You're going far away, for a much longer time than Mike Bai."
Baron Otto was at a loss for words. "It's okay. Time will pass quickly, and when little Mike Bai grows up, I'll be back. I'll bring you a little colt as a gift. How does that sound?"
"Can't you stay?" Mike Bai asked, his voice breaking.
"Don't you want to see me grow up?" Otto's heart wavered, his familial duty battling his emotions.
"I'll be bullied…" Mike Bai shifted his position, pressing hard again with his hand.
Otto's heart softened, the weight of his family's obligations pulling him one way, while his love for his late wife pulled him another. He almost gave in.
"Mike Bai, your cousin, Caen, passed away last month, called by the Lord," Otto said, his voice somber. "Although I can't fathom the will of the Lord, I trust that he's now in Heaven, living joyously."
"But your aunt Eve, that beautiful, kind woman…" Otto's voice trembled as his mind wandered. He seemed to see his wife, smiling as she held a young child's hand, waving at him as she always had.
"She could not bear to part with the child and chose to end her own life."
Baron Otto bowed his head, lost in the memory. Then he raised his eyes, the confusion fading from his gaze.
"I am going to the Holy Land, to seek forgiveness for her sins," he said quietly.
Mike Bai threw himself into Otto's arms, tears streaming down his face. "Then take me with you. I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't want to be without family."
Otto thought of his brother, of his nephew, of his own responsibilities to his family, and despite everything, he couldn't find it in himself to refuse.
"Alright…" Otto sighed, gently patting Mike Bai's back. "I'll take you along."
Unbeknownst to Otto, Mike Bai's expression shifted, a sly smile curling at the corners of his lips, only to disappear as quickly as it had appeared.
As Otto made the decision to take Mike Bai on the pilgrimage, his knights, though loyal, expressed their concerns. Despite Otto's firm resolve, the worries of his knights remained unspoken, buried deep within.
"Well, let's just say I'm indulging my nephew's childish whims," Otto said, making his final decision. After assigning a knight to oversee the estate's defenses and giving instructions to the steward, he set off for the Holy Land with his three closest knights—William, Patrick, and Dermol—and a small retinue of five soldiers.
The journey took them through desolate wilderness for five days, where they occasionally heard the howls of wolves. Though the conditions were rough, the knights made every effort to care for Mike Bai. Still, every mealtime, as Mike Bai stared at the dark, stale bread and the mysterious-smelling stew, a sense of helplessness filled him.
When Patrick returned from a hunting trip with a wild boar, Mike Bai's eyes sparkled with interest. He quickly set up his small pot over the campfire and, while no one was paying attention, sliced off the fattest piece of meat, tossing it into his pot. The sizzling sound of the meat frying made his mouth water as he added onions, sage, and a few other herbs, filling the air with a fragrant aroma.
The smell was irresistible, drawing the attention of everyone in the camp, from William, who was boasting, to Patrick, who was sharpening his weapon, to Dermol, who was checking their supplies. All of them stared at Mike Bai, mesmerized by the scent wafting from his pot.
Once the meat was golden and crispy, Mike Bai added mushrooms and carrots, and then poured in a ladle of the thick soup from their campfire stew. He covered the pot and waited, the smell growing more intoxicating with each passing moment.
"Glorious..." A faint sound of saliva swallowing echoed from across the camp.
"Little Mike Bai," William sauntered over, grinning, "I'm your favorite uncle, right? Let me try a bit!"
"Not yet," Mike Bai said, swatting William's hand away. "Wait your turn."
"What turn...?" William frowned and looked around. To his surprise, everyone had lined up in an orderly queue, with Dermol, the first in line, holding out a bowl with a silly grin. William gaped and reluctantly shuffled to the back.
Mike Bai ignored his complaints, unveiling the pot to reveal the delicious feast inside. The smell alone made the knights salivate, and even Baron Otto, who had been pretending to rest, felt his resolve slipping.
Calmly, Mike Bai served himself and Otto first, adding a pinch of salt, then struck the pot with his spoon.
"Dinner's served!"
After a rapid round of eating, everyone lay back contentedly, with only William still trying to lick the last drops from his bowl.
"Where did you learn to cook like this?" Baron Otto asked, finally voicing the question everyone was wondering. The knights looked expectantly at Mike Bai, even William stopping his attempts to lick his plate clean.
"The dean's library," Mike Bai answered nonchalantly.
"The dean's library... had recipes?" The knights exclaimed.
"Recipes?" Mike Bai shrugged. "Books are expensive, so they don't waste space on something like that. But I did find a book on plants that mentioned how certain herbs have unique fragrances that can substitute for spices."
Thinking about spices reminded Mike Bai of his destination.
"There may be a place ahead of us where I can feel closer to my former home." He paused, recalling a poem he'd seen in the dean's library.
"Soldiers, march with me to the East! A land paved with silver, crowned with golden spires, where rivers of honey and milk flow, where spices grow wild and silk is ripe for the taking!"
Mike Bai raised his voice dramatically, "If you follow me to conquer the East, I promise you, spices will be as cheap as grass, and silks as soft as a maiden's skin. People will live in eternal prosperity, and our songs will be sung by poets for all time!"
At the end of the poem, he noticed the knights staring at him, bewildered.
"You don't understand Latin, do you?"
"Men are strong of body and brave in soul," William said with a hearty laugh. "Latin's just something the Church uses to confuse children." The rest of the group nodded in agreement, including Patrick, who flashed a smile.
Mike Bai stared at them blankly. "You do realize the poem's not just about silk and spices, right?" he began to explain, before Patrick interrupted, his curiosity piqued.
"Is that Eastern land real?" Patrick asked.
"Of course it is," Mike Bai replied proudly. "But it's even farther than the Holy Land. Beyond Parthia, past the vast Persian Empire, lies a place full of silk and spices."