Chapter 2 Chapter two

Night, for the army camped in the wild, is as orderly as the stars in the sky: replacement of sentry posts, regular patrols, and officers taking turns on duty.Moreover, the confusion common to armies in war, the tumult of daytime occasional accidents, such as a gallant horse jumping out of the ranks, was subdued now, as drowsiness overwhelmed all the Christian warriors and all four quarters. Leg beasts.The cattle stood in rows, and now and then they scratched the ground with their hooves, or let out a short neigh or bray; I feel satisfied and comfortable with my own, characteristic self, and I have already fallen into a dream there.

On the other side, in the heathen's camp, it was the same situation: the sentries went back and forth at the same pace, the postmaster went to wake up the changing soldiers every time he saw the last speck of sand pouring out of the hourglass, and the officers used Writing letters to his wife and children while on the night shift.Both the Christian patrol and the pagan patrol advanced five hundred steps, and were only a few steps away from the tree cup, but they both turned and turned back. The two teams turned their backs and never met. They returned to the camp. After the report is safe, I go to bed and rest.The moon and the stars quietly illuminate the two hostile positions.Sleeping anywhere is better than sleeping in the army.

Only Ajilulfo did not have this sense of relief.In his tent, the neatest and most comfortable in the Christian camp, he was neatly dressed in his white armor.Lie on your back, with your head resting on your arms, and your thinking activities are continuous, not the leisurely and erratic thoughts of people who fall asleep in a haze, but always clear and clear thinking.After a moment's rest, he drew out one arm and raised it upward: he felt the need to do some manual work at random, such as cleaning a sword.Or put some oil on the seams of the armor plates or something, but the long sword is already clear and shiny.After staying thus a little while, he arose, and came out of the tent with spear and shield in hand.His white figure moved across the camp.From the teepees rose an ensemble of heavy breathing sleepers.What is it that can cause people to close their eyes, lose their sense of self, sink into the void of time for several hours, and then wake up, find the same self as before, reconnect the rope of their own life, Ajilulfo can't know One of the mysteries.He is jealous of the ability to sleep peculiar to human beings that exist.It was a vague jealousy of something incomprehensible.What irritated and annoyed him even more was the sight of bare feet sticking out from the edge of the tent, with their toes pointing upwards.The sleeping barracks became a kingdom of bodies, the body of the ancient Adam lay all over the field, the smell of wine in his belly and the smell of sweat on his body steamed up, empty armor lying on the ground at the door of the tent, the groom and the servants would be in the morning Wipe them dry and put them away.Ajilulfou walked through it cautiously, showing a pretentious arrogance in his nervousness. The flesh and blood of people aroused in his heart a kind of annoyance similar to jealousy, and also produced a burst of excitement caused by pride and superiority.What is the status of these venerable colleagues and proud warriors? The armor, the proof of their rank and surname, recording their merits, talents, and values, has been reduced to a piece of skin and a pile of scrap iron; The man, snoring aside, squeezed his face against the pillow, and a stream of saliva flowed from his open mouth.He is not like this, it is impossible to dismantle him into pieces, it is impossible to dismember him, and at any time of the day or night he is Gorbein Tratz and Guel du Verny of Syracuse and Arthrie of the Altri family. Girulfo Emo Bertrandino, knight of Upper Selympia and Fes.Every day he carried out some mission or another for the glorious crusade, commanding this or that detachment in Charlemagne's army.He has the most beautiful and cleanest armor in the entire army, and he is never separated from it, and lives and dies.He was a much better officer than many of the braggarts, perhaps even the best of the officers.But in the dead of night, he wandered sadly alone.

He heard a voice: "Excuse me, sir, when will the replacement come? They have let me stand here for three hours." It was a sentinel, he was leaning on a spear.It's like holding a cane. Ajilulfou said without even turning his head, "You are mistaken, I am not an officer on duty." He walked straight forward. "Excuse me, Mr. Officer: seeing you walking around here, I thought..." At the slightest omission, Agilulfo would anxiously go over it from beginning to end, find other errors and omissions in what others had done, and be ashamed of what had been done badly or inappropriately. He regretted it deeply... But since it was not within his remit to conduct such an inspection at this time, his conduct would be considered meddling and even a breach of discipline.Atilulfo tried to rein in himself, confining his interests to specific issues that would rightfully come under his jurisdiction the next day, such as whether the spear racks were in order, or the hay Whether the bags are stacked securely... However, his white figure always follows the footsteps of the post chief, the officer on duty, and the patrol, all the way to the wine cellar, where they found the leftovers from the previous night. A jug of wine... On such occasions, Ajilulfo always hesitated for a moment, thinking whether to stand up like those awe-inspiring people in power and stop them silently with his own authority, or to appear like a Like someone in a place they shouldn't be, willingly withdrawing and pretending they weren't there.He was full of worries and hesitation.He can't adopt the one or the other, he just feels the need to cause trouble, he wants to do something in order to have any kind of relationship with someone, like shouting passwords, swearing like a corporal, or like a corporal. Talking sarcastic and rude like that among boozy friends.However, he just muttered a few words of greeting that were difficult to understand, showing timidity under the cover of arrogance, or arrogance that was cut off by timidity.He walked forward, but felt that these people seemed to be talking to him. He just turned around and said "Oh", but immediately realized that they were not talking to him, and he hurried away, as if fleeing.

He walked to the edge of the camp, went to a deserted place, and climbed a bare hill.The night is quiet, only some shapeless shadows flapping their wings soundlessly, dancing lightly, they turn around aimlessly, these are some bats.Even their indeterminate hybrid bodies between rats and birds are always tangible; tangible things that can spread their wings and beat the air, and can open their mouths to devour mosquitoes and flies. The armor was pierced by the breeze, mosquitoes flew over, and the moonlight pierced through every gap.An indescribable anger rose in his chest and burst out suddenly.He drew his sword out of its sheath, raised it with both hands, and slashed at every bat flying low in the air with all his strength.In vain: they continue to whirl round and round, driven by the moving air.Ajilulfo waved his swing and finally stopped attacking the bat.His slashing movements are carried out according to the most formal procedures, step by step according to the standard postures in the swordsmanship tutorial.Ajilulfo seems to have started a conscious exercise to train for the upcoming battle. He made the theoretically prescribed horizontal chops, pushes, and false airs,

He stopped abruptly.A young man poked his head out from a bunker on the top of the hill and looked at him: the young man had only a sword as a weapon and a light armor around his chest. "Hey, knight!" he cried, "I don't want to interrupt you! You're practicing for a battle, aren't you? Because there's going to be a battle at dawn, aren't you? Allow me to practice with you?" He paused a little, and said, "I just came to the battlefield yesterday... Today will be my first battle. For me... everything is very different from what I expected..."

Ajilulf stood sideways, crossed his arms, held a sword in front of his chest with one hand, and held a shield in the other, covering his whole body behind the shield. "The deployment of each battle is decided by the headquarters, and all officers and troops participating in the battle will be notified one hour before the start of the battle." He said. The young man restrained his excitement and was a little restrained, but he overcame a slight stutter and regained his original enthusiasm, and then said: "That's right, I just happened to catch up...to avenge my father...I implore a young man like you The elders taught me how to meet that pagan dog Caliph Issoare directly on the battlefield, yes, that's him, and I'll break the spear in his ribs, as he did to my heroic father God bless Fatherless, the late Marquis Gherardo di Rossilione

"It's simple, lad," said Agilulfo, and there was some enthusiasm in his voice, which is when a man who knows the rules and regulations shows off his knowledge and makes the ignorant tremble with trepidation. "You should apply to the inspectorate in charge of duels, revenge, and revenge, state the reasons for your request, and let them consider how to meet your request as much as possible." The young man originally expected that when his father's famous name was mentioned, at least he could see the surprised expression of the other party. He was discouraged at first when he heard his tone of voice, and the words he said afterwards made him even more frustrated.He tried his best to think about what the knight said, but he denied what he said from the bottom of his heart, and he tried to maintain his original enthusiasm: "But, knight, what I worry about is not the lack of supervision from others, please understand me, because the confidence I have Brave and tenacious enough to take out not one but a hundred heretics. I'm well trained and skilled in martial arts, you know? What I'm saying is in the midst of a melee, and until I start striking, I don't know... Can the dog be found, will he slip past my sight, I wonder what you will do in such a situation. Please tell me, knight, if there is a personal problem involved in the war, a problem for you A matter of vital importance, and of your own concern only...”

Ajilulfo replied dryly: "I strictly obey the instructions. You should do the same, so that you will not make mistakes." "I beg your pardon," said the lad, who stood there awkwardly and stiffly, "I don't want to bore you. It would be my great honor to practice fencing with you, a warrior. !Because, you know, I know the movements by heart, but sometimes, in the morning, the muscles are numb and cold, and I can't stretch them. Do you feel the same way?" "I haven't," said Agilulfo, who had turned and walked away. The youth walked towards the camp.It was the hazy hour before dawn.Some movement could be discerned between the tents.Before the reveille sounded, the people in the staff had already got up.Torches were lit in the tents of the headquarters and company offices, and the candlelight merged with the faint morning light in the sky.What has already begun suggests that this is indeed a day for battle.Had the news leaked out during the night? The new recruit was in high spirits, but it wasn't the tenseness one might expect, nor the eagerness with which he had come all the way.Or, to put it better, what used to be a real anxiety was now a state of excitement, a dizziness and a little ecstasy in the head.

He met warriors already dressed in shining armor and perforated helmets trimmed with feathers, their faces hidden by visors.The young man turned his head to look at them, and he wanted to imitate their movements, their majestic posture of twisting their waists and walking: the armor, helmet, and shoulder pads seemed to be connected as a whole.He was at last among the ranks of the invincible Christian warriors.He gripped his weapon, ready to fight like them, to be like them! But instead of mounting their horses, the two men he was staring at sat down behind a table piled high with papers up.They must have been two senior commanders.The young man ran over and introduced himself to them: "I am the young knight Rambardo di Rossilione, son of the late Marquis Gherardo [who came to join the army to avenge his father, who died heroically in Seville. Under Leah!"

Those two reached for the helmet, separated the helmet from the neck armor, took off the helmet, and put it on the table.What emerged from under the helmet were two bald, yellow-skinned heads, two faces with sagging skin and puffy eyelids, two bookish faces, and the rigidity of two old civil servants working at their desks. "Rosilione, Rosilione," they said, moistening their fingers with saliva, and flipping through some files, "we registered you yesterday! What more do you need? Why aren't you in your company? "No need, I don't know why, I can't sleep all night thinking about the war. I should avenge my father, you know. I should kill the Caliph Issoare with my own hands, so I searched for ...By the way, where is the Inspector's Office for Duel, Revenge, and Revenge?" "Listen, this man has been talking about something since he arrived! But, do you know what's going on at the Inspector's office?" "A knight told me what his name was, the one in the white armor..." "Hey, it's him again! We know this guy sticks his nose all over the place." "What? Has he no nose?" "Because he never gets sores himself," said the other behind the desk, "he's good at exposing other people's sores." "Why doesn't he get sores?" "Where did you make him sore? There's no place for him, a knight who doesn't exist..." "Why doesn't it exist? I've seen him! He exists!" "What do you see? Tinhide... he's an empty being, young boy, do you understand?" Young Rambaldo had never imagined that appearances could be so false.Ever since he came to the barracks, he found that everything was specious... "Then, in Charlemagne's army, being a knight with a title and mother, and even being a brave fighter and a conscientious officer, may not exist!" "Wait a minute! Nobody said what it was like to be in Charlemagne's army. We only said that there was such a knight in our regiment. That's all the facts. We have no idea what might or might not be in general. What's not interesting. Do you understand," Rambaldo walked towards the camp of the Inspector of Duels, Vengeances, and Revenge, who was no longer fooled by armor and feathered helmets.He knew that those sitting behind the desks, under the cover of their armor, were unkempt, gaunt old men.Thankfully there are still people inside! "It turns out that you want to avenge your father, the Marquis Rossilione, a general! Let us see that the best way to avenge a general is to kill three majors. We can assign You three are easy to deal with, and you will surely get what you want." "I haven't made it clear that the enemy I should kill is Caliph Isoare. He is the murderer of my venerable father!" "Yes, yes, we understand, but don't you think it's easy to knock a caliph to the ground... Do you want four captains? We guarantee you four infidel captains and officers in one morning .You see, four captains for a corps general, your father is only a brigade general.” “I will find Issoare and disembowel him! He, I want him!” “You will be arrested, and Not on the battlefield, you be careful! Use your brains before you speak! If we prevent you from confronting Issoare, it is also reasonable...For example, suppose our emperor is fighting with Issoare Negotiations..." One of the officers had been buried in the pile of papers, and now he raised his head joyfully: "It's all settled! It's all settled! There's no need to do anything more! What revenge, no need! The day before yesterday, Ulivi Yeri thought his 2 uncles died in battle and he paid blood debt for them! And those 2 just passed out drunk under the same table! We found 2 extra incidents of avenging uncles here, so troublesome Now all these things can be arranged: we count an act of vengeance for my uncle as half an act of vengeance for my father, so that if we still owe one act of vengeance for my father, it is done. "Ah, my father!" Rambaldo almost fainted. "What's the matter with you?" The reveille sounded.Soldiers bustling in the camp bathed in the morning light.Lombardo did not want to confuse himself with these people who gradually formed small groups and formed company phalanxes. He only felt that the collision of those iron objects was like the flapping of insect elytra, making a sound from the dry shell.Many samurai wore helmets and breastplates above the belt, leaving their legs in trousers and stockings below the waist and below the crotch, since plastrons, leggings, and knee pads were not put on until after they were in the saddle.The legs under the iron breastplate appeared thinner, like those of a cricket; the way they shook their round, eyeless heads when they spoke, and the way they flexed their arms covered with vambraces and palms, are like crickets or ants; and thus all their busyness and labor are like the bewildered wanderings of insects.Rambaldo's eyes searched for one thing among them: Agilulfo's white armor.He wished to reunite with it, because perhaps its presence would make the rest of the army seem more real than it, or because the strongest manifestation he had ever encountered belonged to the nonexistent knight. He found the knight he was looking for under a pine tree.I saw him sitting on the ground, arranging the falling pine cones into a regular shape, an equilateral triangle.At this twilight, Agilulfo was always in need of an exercise in precision: counting, arranging things into geometric figures, solving math problems.This is the moment when objects break free from the ever-pressing darkness of the night and gradually return to their original colors, however, they are only vaguely outlined at this time, and the light has just passed over their heads, almost adding to them. halo.This is the moment when the existence of the world is not certain.And Ajilulf, he always needs to feel that what he is facing is as solid as a big wall, and his willpower can contend with it. Only in this way can he maintain a positive self-awareness.On the contrary, if the surrounding world seems uncertain and blurred, he will feel himself sinking into this soft half-light, powerless to produce clear thoughts, decisive decisions, and persistent pursuits in the emptiness.He was in pain, and this was when he had dizziness, and he often had to fight hard to keep himself from dissipating.At such times, he began to count, counting leaves, stones, spears, pine cones, whatever was in front of his eyes.Or line them up and use them to form square or pyramid patterns.Engaging in these concentrated activities can relieve pain and illness, soothe the nerves and refresh the mind, relieve worries and boredom, and restore his usual quick thinking and solemn demeanor. He was doing this when Rambaldo saw him.He quickly and accurately arranged the pine cones into a triangle, and then placed a quadrilateral along each side of the triangle. He took the trouble to count the number of pine cones forming a rectangle, and compared it with the number of pine cones forming any quadrilateral.Lombardo saw that this was nothing more than a habit, he was playing in a way he was used to, but what was hiding under this behavior? When he thought of the game beyond the rules He felt an indescribable terror... So, could his desire to avenge the murder of his father, his desire to go to war, his desire to become Charlemagne's bodyguard, be nothing more than cavalier Agilulfo Like a pine cone, is it a mediocre expression of unwillingness to be lonely, intolerable emptiness?" Troubled by this sudden question, the young Rambaldo threw himself on the ground and burst into tears. He felt something resting on his hair, a hand, an iron hand, but very light.It turned out that Ajilulfou was kneeling beside him: "My boy, what's the matter? Why are you crying?" The panic, disappointment, or anger in others can make Ajilulfou immediately calm down and create a good sense of security.Realizing that he is immune to the terror and distress of those who exist, he assumes the superior stance of a protector. "I'm sorry," said Rambaldo, "perhaps I'm too tired. I haven't closed my eyes all night, and now I feel disturbed. It would be nice if I could just take a nap... But it's dawn. And you, too. Wake up, what's the matter with you?" "If I doze off, even for a moment, I lose my sanity and lose myself. Therefore, I must be awake every second of the day and night." "That must be tough..." "No." The voice became dry and harsh again. "Do you never take off your armor?" He couldn't speak anymore: "I don't have a body. It doesn't make sense for me to take it off and put it on." Rambaldo raised his head and stared blankly through the gap of his mask, as if trying to find a shining gaze in this black hole. "What's going on here?" "Otherwise, so what?" The iron hand in the white armor was still on the young man's head.Lombardo felt it resting on his head like an object, without any of the comforting or irritating heat that is characteristic of human touch, and at the same time he felt as if a stubborn force pressed against him.