Chapter 6 Chapter Six

The story I set out to write was much more difficult than I expected.Now it's time for me to write about the craziest emotion in the world—the love between a man and a woman.My spiritual vows, my solitary life, and natural timidity have brought me here from love.I'm not saying it's never been said.Just in the monastery, in order to guard against temptation, we discussed together several times, and we seemed to be able to glimpse the mystery of it with vague imagination.Sometimes a poor girl among us gets pregnant through inexperience, or someone has been taken captive by godless strong men, and comes back to tell us what they did to her.Whenever these occasions, we will have a discussion.I will, therefore, say about love as much as I can about war, as much as I can imagine.The skill of writing a story lies in being good at deriving the whole life from nothing; and after writing it, and experiencing life again, you will feel that the things you thought you knew are actually meaningless.

Perhaps Bradamante felt this more deeply? After she had experienced the entire military career of the female knight, a deep sense of dissatisfaction crept into her heart.She took the way of chivalry in the first place out of her yearning for such a strict, rigorous, serious, and well-behaved moral life, and her interest in extremely standard martial arts and equestrian skills.But what was there around her? Sweaty men.They are not good at kung fu, but they don't care when they fight.As soon as they got away from their duties, they drank too much, or foolishly walked around after her, waiting for her to pick one of them and take them back to the tent for the night.It is well known that it is a great thing to be knights, and yet these knights were so foolish, so careless and perfunctory in their approach to such a noble cause; I am too lazy to use my brain to pick and oppose, but I have gradually learned the ability to live happily and comfortably under the military regulations.War is not only a desperate fight, but also a routine official business, so you don't have to stick to that set of red tape.

In fact, Bradamante is similar to them, and perhaps her obsessed desire for a simple and serious life is precisely to confront her true character.For example, if there was ever a slob in the Frankish army, it was her.Her tent, if it was a tent at all, was the most untidy in the whole camp.The poor man is still reluctant to do those things that have always been considered women's duties, such as sewing, mending, washing, sweeping and plastering, and removing garbage.And she, spoiled like a princess since she was a child, never hands-on in these things, if it weren't for those old women who were always around the company doing laundry and doing chores--all of them were very good at serving-- Her place was worse than a kennel.She didn't spend much time in it, her days were spent on horseback in armor.In fact, once the weapon was put on, she became another person. The eyes in the helmet were shining, and the whole body was full of brilliance. The golden light, the lavender ribbons connecting the nails, if any of the ribbons come loose, it will be a disaster.She has the ambition to be the most brilliant figure on the battlefield, coupled with her female self-confidence, she constantly challenges the male warriors, showing a sense of superiority, a sense of arrogance.She believes that whether in friendly or enemy forces, well-maintained and well-used weapons are the embodiment of soundness of mind and perfection.If she meets someone she considers a warrior, she rewards his pursuits fairly, and then the erotic nature of womanhood awakens in her; Canceled completely, suddenly turned into a tender and passionate lover.However, if the man keeps pestering him, is too presumptuous, and behaves out of control, she will immediately change her face and look for a stronger man again.But who could she find again? No one in the Christian army or the warriors in the enemy army could touch her heart. She had experienced the weakness and boredom of each of them.

She was practicing drawing her bow in the open space in front of her tent when Lombardo, who was eagerly looking for her, saw her in real beauty for the first time.She was wearing a short tights, with a bow on her bare arms, her complexion was slightly flushed from exertion, her hair was tied behind her neck in a fluffy bundle like a ponytail.But Lombardo's eyes did not stop to look so carefully, he only saw a complete woman, herself, her color, it could only be her, the one whom he had hardly seen and wanted with all his heart .He had long felt that she couldn't be otherwise. The arrow was shot from the bow and hit the bull's-eye, where there were already three arrows stuck. "I invite you to try your hand at archery!" said Rambaldo, running towards her.

Young people are always chasing girls like this.Is love for her really driving him? Perhaps it is not love itself first, but he is pursuing the certainty of self-existence that only a woman can give? The young man ran over infatuatedly. Take all-or-nothing determination.In his view, a woman is the one who actually exists in front of him.Only she could give him that experience.As for the woman, she also wants to know whether she exists or not.She was right in front of him, and she was also anxious and lacking in confidence. Why didn't the young man notice this? It didn't matter which of the two was stronger or weaker? They were the same.However, the youth does not understand this because he does not want to understand.What he desperately needs are existing women, real women.And she knew more, or less; in short, she knew something else.Now she is preoccupied with another form of existence.They have an archery match together.She scolded him loudly and did not appreciate him.He didn't understand that she was playing tricks on him.Surrounded by the tents of the Frankish army, the flags fluttered in the wind, and a line of war horses greedily chewed the grass.The footmen prepare meals for the soldiers.The samurai waiting for lunch circled around them to watch Bradamante shoot arrows with the lad. "You hit the target, but it was purely accidental." "Accidental? I have never missed a shot!" "You hit the target every time, and it is accidental!" "So what is not accidental? Who can succeed without accidental success?" ?” Ajilulf walked slowly past the camp, wearing a long black cloak over his white armor.He paced around, knowing that someone was paying attention to him, but pretending not to pay attention, confident that he should act as if he didn't care, but on the contrary, he valued it very much in his heart, just showing it in a different way that others couldn't understand.

"Knight, come and let him see what to do..." Bradamante's usual contemptuous tone was no longer in his voice at this time, and his attitude was not so arrogant.She took two steps towards Agilulfo and presented a bow with nocked arrows on its strings. Ajilulfo walked over slowly, took the bow and arrow, shook off the cloak backwards, put his feet in a straight line, raised his arms forward, his movements were not like the muscles and nerves doing to aim at the target Movement, he sends out strands of force, and arranges them in order, so that the arrow is fixed on an invisible straight line leading to the target, then he only needs to draw the bow, and the arrow leaves the string absolutely without error. arrow.Bradamante applauded loudly: "This is called archery!"

Ajiluerfu turned a deaf ear, holding the bow that was still trembling firmly with two iron hands, and then he threw the bow to the ground.He drew on his cloak, and, fisting his breastplate with both hands, seized the hem of the cloak, and walked away, saying nothing, nothing. Bradamante picked up the bow, flicked the ponytail hair on his back, and raised the bow with open arms. "Is there no one, no one else who can shoot so crisply? Can anyone make every movement as accurate as him?" She kicked the grass on the ground and smashed the bow on the fence as she spoke. broken.Ajilulfo went straight away without looking back.The colorful feathers on his helmet lean forward as if he's walking stooped, fists clenched to his chest, clutching his black cloak.

Some of the onlookers sat on the grass and gloated at the scene of Bradamantai losing his composure: "Since she fell in love with Ajilulf, she is unlucky and has no peace day and night..." "What? What did you say?" inquired Rambaldo, grabbing the speaker by the arm. "Hey, young man, you are eager to pursue our female knight! Now she only loves the armor that is clean inside and out! Don't you know that she is obsessed with Ajilulf?" "How could it be... Ajilulf... Bradamante... What's going on?" "When a woman loses interest in all the men that exist, the only thing that leaves her hope is a man who doesn't exist at all..."

Doubt and disappointment tormented Lombardo all the time, and the desire to find the knight in white armor became an irresistible psychological impulse for him.If you find him now, he doesn't know how to treat him, whether to seek his advice as always, or to regard him as a rival in love. "Hey, blonde beauty, isn't he too light and weightless to lie on the bed?" The comrades reprimanded her loudly.Bradamanti fell so badly this time, her status plummeted, who would have dared to speak to her in such a tone before? "Tell me," the men went on, "if you take his clothes off, what can you touch afterwards?" They sneered sarcastically.

Lombardo suffered double heartache hearing people talking about Bradamante and the knight in this way, knowing that he had nothing to do with the story and that no one saw him as a party to the cause.He couldn't help being angry, and his depressed heart was intertwined with love and anger. Bradamante then took a whip and waved it away to disperse the crowd, including Rambaldo: "Do you think that I am a woman who can be manipulated by any man?" The men were running and shouting, "Ouch! Ouch! Bradamante, if you need us to lend him anything, just ask us!" Rambaldo was pushed and shoved, and lost his way with the poor and bored soldiers.After returning from Bradamante he was disheartened, and meeting Agilulfo would also embarrass him.By chance he found another young man by his side, Torrismondo, a collateral son of the Ducal House of Conovaglio: he was whistling melancholy and walking with his eyes downcast on the ground.Lombardo came along by chance with this young man whom he hardly knew, and he felt the need to confide in someone else, so he accosted him: "I am new here, and for some reason I am not expecting it, and all hope is lost. , can never be realized, it is simply incomprehensible."

Torrismondo did not raise his eyelids, but temporarily stopped his sullen whistle, saying, "Everything is disgusting." "Yes, you see," replied Rambaldo, "I'm not exactly a pessimist, sometimes I feel passionate and loving, I feel like I understand everything, and I ask myself: have I found it now? Seeing things in their right perspective, whether that's what it's like to fight in a Frankish army, whether that's really what I've always dreamed of. However, I'm not sure of anything..." "What do you want to affirm?" Torrismondo interrupted him, "power, rank, pomp, fame. They are all but a screen. The shields used in battle and the words spoken by the guards are not made of iron, they are made of paper Yes, you can pierce it with one finger." They came to a pond.Frogs croaked and jumped up and down on the stones by the pond.Torrismondo turned and stood facing the camp, and made a chopping gesture to the flag planted on the fence. "However, the Royal Army," retorted Rambaldo, whose desire to vent his anguish was suppressed by the other's absolute denial. At this moment, he tried not to lose his inner sense of balance and find a proper place for his pain, " The Royal Army, it must be admitted, will always fight in defense of the sacred cause of Christianity against paganism." "There is neither defense nor attack, there is no point." Torrismondo said, "In the end of the war, no one will win, or no one will lose. We will always face each other and lose one side. The other side becomes worthless. Both we and they have forgotten why we fight... Do you hear these frogs? Everything we do is with them croaking and jumping from the water to the shore, from the shore The act of jumping into the water has the same meaning and character..." "I don't think so," said Rambaldo, "on the contrary, for me everything is too organized and formalized... I see human strength, value, but with such indifference... There is a The knight of existence, to be honest, he scares me... But I admire him, he does everything so well and solidly, it seems that I understand Bradamante..." He blushed, "Aji Rulfoy is certainly the best knight in our army..." "Pooh!" "Why 'Bah'?" "He is also an air, worse than the rest." "What do you mean by 'empty air'? Everything he does is solid." "That's not the case at all! It's all fake... He doesn't exist, what he does doesn't exist, what he says doesn't exist, doesn't exist at all, doesn't exist at all..." "Why, then, did he take such a job in the army when he was at a disadvantage compared with the others? For honor?" Torrismondo was silent for a while, and said in a low voice: "The honor is also false here. If I choose, I will destroy it all. I will not leave even the ground under my feet." "Is nothing spared?" "Maybe there is, but not here." "Who? Where?" "The Holy Grail Knight." "Where are they?" "In the Scottish woods." "Have you seen them?" "No." "How do you know about them?" "I know." They stopped talking.Only the frogs can be heard chattering endlessly.Rambaldo was seized by fear, he was really afraid that the cry of the frog would overwhelm everything and swallow him into the green and greasy frog's gills which were opening and closing.He thought of Bradamante, and her heroic posture of holding her dagger high in battle, and he forgot the panic just now.He waited for his moment to fight and perform heroic deeds before her green eyes.