Sinai Corridor.
The scorching heat waves have twisted the air.
Even though it’s already autumn, don’t expect to find any hint of coolness in the desert at noon, while in the early morning, it often gets terribly cold.
Chelina sat sideways behind the cal, snapped open the biscuit box with her thumb, took out a chocolate biscuit that was about to lt and stuffed it into her mouth.
"Once we climb over this rocky mountain, we’ll reach the White Stone Well I told you about. There’s ample water there, enough for you to fill all your vessels and water bags, but the Tur Tribe also knows of it. They live nearby, and I can’t promise they’ll be willing to join you."
The speaker was a Bedouin guide.
Bedouins, being a loose collection of tribes, are naturally not a unified block. So have chosen to ride Yasal’s chariot, while others have chosen to follow the foreign Franks, most of whom do so because of the local Lord Yasal’s misdeeds.
But there are also many neutral factions who do not wish to leave lands where they have lived for generations, nor do they want to die for a conflict between Franks and Arabs.
"You don’t have to guarantee anything. We Crusaders won’t deliberately attack such a remote place. We just hope to buy enough water from the tribes when we need it. We can exchange salt, ironware, and grain for it."
A local Knight said with a smile.
"I believe you, but you’ll need to be prepared to waste so breath convincing the Tur Tribe. Their Clan Leader is a difficult, stubborn old man."
"To be honest, I’m not very good at persuading people, unless using this."
The Knight patted the Ard Sword hanging on the saddle.
"Holy Fire above, let’s hope things don’t have to take such a bad turn."
The cal team moved forward slowly.
The Winged Cavalry had changed outfits. They rode single-humped cals, wrapped in white linen robes, covered tightly except for their eyes. Warhorses were left empty and only ridden during battle.
The cals’ walking style was interesting, moving the hooves on the sa side together each step, which made them walk steadily and smoothly on the soft sand.
"Arishe was truly a good place. We learned from the Coptics to build reservoirs, dig wells, and irrigate hillside farms. Unfortunately, the once beautiful Arishe has turned into ruins."
The guide’s eyes were filled with regret.
Tens of thousands of people were either driven away by the Lord’s guards, leaving their hos, or could only stay in the town that was ransacked and left without a clean well, waiting for death. It was a complete disaster.
He didn’t know whom to bla.
Crusaders? Or Yasal? Or the damned Governor of Egypt who issued the command?
"We’ll rebuild it there sooner or later. Have you heard of the Divine Wood?"
The local Knight proudly raised his head, "This is God’s Miracle, my Lord’s Miracle as the Divine Favored. As long as you accept the Marquis’s rule peacefully, one day this land will beco as fertile as Alandler and New Habsburg."
The guide’s eyes flashed with a hint of longing, yet he felt it a bit unrealistic. Miracles are not so easily attainable. Even if they exist, Frankish nobles wouldn’t waste them on the Sinai land.
He smiled helplessly, "If the day ever cos, I’ll convert to your Cross Sect right away."
The local Knight laughed heartily, "That day will co, mate. In fact, it’s already proven that the Holy Fire can’t protect you, Saladin has been defeated twice by my Lord."
The guide’s face changed slightly.
Another leading Knight reprimanded, "Watch your words, don’t forget what Lord Hans instructed you before he left?"
The local Knight opened his mouth, slightly reluctantly apologized, "Sorry, mate. I didn’t an to offend your faith. I know how devoted you are — because I too was once a devout Fire Worshipper. But no matter how I piously prayed every day, it couldn’t change my poverty. On the contrary, after converting to the true faith, I beca a Knight with an estate."
The guide smiled awkwardly, no longer continuing the topic, and said instead, "I’ll go ahead to scout the path. If I’m not mistaken, we should be nearing White Stone Well."
The leading Knight whispered to Chelina, "Should I send two n to watch him?"
"No need, he bears no malice. Even if he does, he can’t escape my pursuit."
Chelina shook her head, "Hass, do you know this route?"
"Sorry, Miss."
The leading Knight shook his head but added, "But I’ve heard of this route. Before, when Eira Port and Alandler were occupied by Heretics, many Christians chose to take this route to pilgrimage to Saint Catherine’s Monastery. Yet most of them probably never reached the destination; they were completely unaware of the plateau’s terror."
Chelina subconsciously glanced back at the steep slope behind her, seeing the barren mountains where she could vaguely spot antelope and jackal figures.
Hass said in a deep voice, "No matter how we describe its horrors, they see it as God’s test for them, as if the more suffering and hardship they endure, the more they can attain redemption."
The local Knight followed the topic, sneering, "Only fools would do that. Isn’t the shortcut to redemption already given by the Holy See Your Majesty and the Marquis?"
Hass looked at him with slight exasperation.
He really didn’t liketo this noisy Knight of Bedouin origin.
Chelina remarked with so emotion, "This is completely different from the coastal area."
By the sea on the Sinai Peninsula, one can see crystal clear azure waves, with various beautiful schools of fish darting among the colorful coral—yet only a small hill away, the scenery turns to utter desolation.
The further south you go, the more this is the case.
Suddenly, Chelina frowned.
In the distance, she slled a faint stench of corpses, definitely not from the remains of animals.
The guide ran back from the front, made a gesture, and the local Knight said, "There’s sothing up ahead, he tells us to prepare for battle and send a few people to check ahead."
"I’ll go with him, Hass, you stay here."
Chelina said.
She and the local Knight urged their mounts forward.
The "situation" referred to by the guide was a group of hyenas tearing at corpses, with overturned carts burned to just fras lying on the ground.
"Get lost! You filthy beasts."
The local Knight cursed, but they rely glanced up at him and continued to feast on the chest and abdon of the corpses, pulling out large chunks of organs already covered with flies. That’s the way of the desert; whether human or beast, you must fill your stomach quickly.
"Let try."
Chelina said, though she didn’t seem to do anything.
The pack of hyenas, who had been feasting, instantly fled like they had encountered a natural enemy, tails between their legs.
The guide and the local Knight looked at her with awe.
The guide approached the corpses, glanced briefly, and said, frowning, "They might be people from the Tur Tribe, but I’m not sure. I’ve seen a few from the Tur Tribe before, but in their current state, it’s hard for anyone to recognize them."
He pointed to the mountains behind him: "They probably wanted to escape into the mountains, relying on the scarce streams there, hunting antelopes, goats, and partridges to survive these tough tis."
Chelina asked, "Your Lord, the one Yasal ordered to kill them, right?"
"I don’t know, but most likely, yes."
The guide’s expression was complicated.
"Throughout, they never intended to get involved in your Franks and Arabs’ war."
The local Knight began to prattle again, "Hey, listen to , buddy, war won’t spare you just because you don’t want to participate. You have to pick a side eventually. All I can say is, sticking with us won’t be worse than sticking with Yasal."
The guide said bitterly, "I hope so."
Chelina frowned, "Quick, we can’t afford any delay."
If possible, Chelina would rather act alone; she’s faster than the cals, but unfortunately, she doesn’t know the way.
After they crossed a barren rocky hill, they saw vultures circling in the sky in the distance and, by a lush oasis, corpses randomly tossed on the ground, already rotting and stinking.
A rough count revealed at least several hundred.
The guide’s face turned ashen, clenching his fists, "Those damned beasts, aren’t they afraid of the Holy Fire’s wrath?"
Chelina wasn’t scared by this scene; she briskly walked towards the oasis. Before reaching the water well with its cover removed, she could already sll the pungent stench of rot.
"Miss Chelina, please stop here."
The local Knight eagerly stepped forward and suggested, "Let go and check."
He went forward, took a couple of peeks, held his breath, and turned his head, "Sa as before, the well is stuffed with several corpses, both animal and human. This well is completely unusable now."
In fact, it isn’t necessarily unusable.
Boiled corpse water can still be drinkable.
But when an army travels, the fuel they carry is limited. In the Sinai Peninsula, firewood is a precious resource.
Chelina nodded expressionlessly and still went forward to confirm that a bloated man’s face was floating on the well’s surface, then frowned and turned around, "Are there any other water sources nearby? As hidden as possible, we ca too late, and the enemy was too fast."
Just as the guide was about to speak, a bloated arm suddenly reached out from the water well and grabbed the local Knight’s neck.
Without a second thought, Chelina acted, and the sound of a roaring wind arose.
A severed arm fell to the ground.
The local Knight sat on the ground, horrified, watching the swollen corpse with pitch-black eye sockets climbing out of the well.
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