The armies of the Frankish kingdom lined up under the red walls of Paris.Charlemagne will come here for a military parade.The officers and soldiers have been waiting for more than three hours, and the weather is sweltering.It was an early summer afternoon, the sky was covered with clouds, and it looked a bit gloomy. The man in the armor was like being stewed in a pot over a simmering fire.Not everyone in the motionless cavalry ranks fainted or fainted, but the armor stood upright on the saddle in the same posture without exception.Suddenly three military orders sounded, and the feathers on the top of the helmet rustled, as if a gust of wind had blown through the dull air, sweeping away the sound of heavy breathing like a tsunami. The set was gasping for breath.Charlemagne finally came, and they saw him coming from a distance, his mount seemed bigger than a real horse, with his long beard brushing his chest, holding the rein in his hand, majestic and heroic, heroic and majestic.He came closer, looking a little older than when they last saw him.

Charlemagne reined in his horse in front of every officer, turned his face and looked at him from head to toe: "Who are you, Frankish guard?" "Solomon of Brittany, your Majesty!" replied the officer in the highest voice, lifting his helmet to reveal a vigorous face; , and fought for 5 years." "Return to the ranks of the Bretons, my valiant!" said Charles, and Tuka-Tuka, Dulan-Duka, went up to the leader of the other troop of cavalry. "Who are you, Frank's guard?" he asked again. "Ulivieri of Vienna, Your Majesty!" Just as the mask on the helmet was taken off, the officer replied clearly, and said: "3000 selected cavalry, 7000 infantry, 20 siege chariots. Xing Meng By the grace of God and the name of King Charles of the Franks, we have defeated the pagan general!"

"Well done, the Viennese are good!" said Charlemagne, and ordered the officers accompanying him, "These horses are losing weight, give them more fodder." He went on. "Who are you, Defender of the Franks?" he repeated, in the same inflected tone as always: "Dada—da da, da da—da da—da da..." "Bernardo of Montpellier, my lord! We have taken Monte Bruna and Galliferneau." "Montpellier is a lovely city! The City of Belles!" he said to his entourage. "Let's give him a promotion." The king's words were sweet, but the quip had been repeated for years.

"Who are you? I know your coat of arms." He could recognize everyone by their coat of arms without them needing to speak, but it was an inherited custom to have them say their names and show their faces.Perhaps because otherwise, someone else would be doing something better than being inspected, and someone else would be sent here in his armor to meet the occasion. "Alardo of the Dordogne, servant of the Duke of Ammonet..." "Alardo is capable, the Pope says." He said something like that. "Dada—da da—da da—da da—da da—da da..." "Gulfre of Montgioye! 8,000 knights, excluding those killed!"

Helmets piled up. "Ujiri of Denmark! Namor of Bavaria! Palmerino of England!" Night falls.The face behind the blank space of the mask is not clearly visible anymore.In this endless war, everyone's words, actions, and deeds can be expected by others, and every battle and every fight is always in accordance with such routines So today everyone knows who will defeat the enemy tomorrow, who will be defeated, who is a hero, who is a coward, who may be pierced in the gut, and who may fall off the horse and flee.At night, the craftsmen tapped on the breastplate by the light of the torches, and the damaged parts were always fixed old parts.

"What about you?" The king came to a knight in white armor.There is only a very thin black piping on the white armor, the rest is pure white, it is worn with care, there is no scratch, and the stitching is extremely dense, and an unknown oriental rooster's feather is stuck on the helmet , shining in rainbow-like colours.On the shield is depicted a coat of arms sandwiched between the two fronts of a broad, folded cloak, within which is a smaller coat of arms.The patterns get smaller and smaller, forming a series of cloaks, one inside the other. There should be something in the center, but it can't be discerned, and the pattern becomes very small. "Here you are, so cleanly dressed..." said Charlemagne, for he saw that the longer the war lasted, the less cleanliness the soldiers took.

"I am," a metallic voice came from the closed helmet, as if it was not a throat but a piece of armor trembling, and there was a soft echo, "Guild Verny and Arlene of Copenhagen and Syracuse Agilulfo Emo Bertrandino of the Terry family, knight of Upper Selympia and Fez!" "Hahaha..." Charlemagne laughed. He pushed his lower lip out, and then made a soft trumpet-like sound, as if to say, "If I should remember everyone's names, I would be in bad luck!" However, he quickly frowned, "Why don't you take off the helmet to show your face?"

The knight didn't say anything.His right hand, clad in finely stitched armour, grasped the front of the saddle more tightly, while the other arm holding the shield seemed to shake with tremors, "I am talking to you, hello, guard!" Charlemagne pressed "Why don't you show your face to your king?" A crisp answer came from the helmet: "Because I don't exist, Your Majesty." "Oh, so it is!" exclaimed the emperor, "now we have a knight who does not exist! Please let me have a look." Ajilulfo seemed to hesitate for a moment, then calmly and slowly lifted the helmet with one hand.The inside of the helmet is hollow.There was no one inside the white armor with iridescent feathers.

"Yo, yo! See nothing!" said Charlemagne, "how can you do your duty if you don't exist?" "By strength of will," said Agilulfo, "and devotion to our sacred cause!" "Yes, yes, well said, that's how one ought to perform one's duty. Well, what an astute non-existent man!" Ajilulfo stood at the end of the team. The emperor had already inspected all the troops. He turned his horse's head and galloped towards the camp.He is old, greedy for leisure, and does not take complicated problems to heart. The bugle blew the signal "disband the queue".The cavalry spread out as usual, and the spear darts lined up fell down like layers of wheat waves when the wind passed through the wheat field.The knights jumped out of the saddle, stretched their legs and twisted their waists to exercise their muscles and bones, and the grooms grabbed the reins and led the horses away.The knights came out of the queue and the flying dust, and gathered together in groups of three and four, and saw clusters of colorful feathers on the helmets shaking. They joked, bragged, talked about women and martial arts, The suffocation held in hours of forced stillness was released in a flash.

Atilulfo wanted to get in among the crowd, he took a few steps towards one group, then turned for some reason to another, but he did not squeeze himself in, and no one noticed him.He stood hesitantly for a moment behind this or that, and did not take part in their conversation.Afterwards he was left alone.It was already dusk, the feathers on the helmet were all the same color, but the white armor was strikingly independent from the grass.Ajilulf suddenly realized that he was naked, folded his arms across his chest, shrugged his shoulders and shrugged his neck. Then he remembered something, and strode toward the stables.In the stables, he found that people did not feed the horses according to the regulations, so he loudly reprimanded the grooms, punished the young stableboys, inspected all the on-duty personnel, explained their responsibilities to them again, and took the trouble to explain to everyone how to do things well , and asked them to repeat what he had said to test whether the listeners really understood.He also detected some dereliction of duty by his fellow officers.One by one he called them out of their pleasant evening chats, pointed out with prudence and exactness their failures, and compelled some of them to serve as sentinels, guards, patrols, and so on.He was always right, and the warriors were doomed, but they made no secret of their discontent.Guil du Verny of Copenhagen and Syracuse and Agilulfo Heimo Bertrandino of the Altelli family were undoubtedly a model soldier;