Chapter 28: Stories
In the blink of an eye, it was the next morning. Life at sea was so tedious, the space for activity so confined. The weather was muggy and humid, making Lothar prefer to stay by Banu's side. The cool air she constantly emanated was like a small air conditioner.
Fringilla possessed no such ability. Although her body temperature was also cool, one had to be close to feel the chill, and their affection hadn't reached that stage yet.
However, no matter how much he wished to stay put, Lothar had to fulfill the social obligations expected of a knight. For instance, instructing his two squires to train the male subjects, and ordering the female subjects to sew surcoats emblazoned with his coat of arms for their male village counterparts. He also had to supervise the crew to ensure they were diligently caring for their horses and check if the horses showed any signs of seasickness.
Hans could handle most matters independently, but Lothar couldn't just become a hands-off manager; he had to maintain his prestige. Authority and reputation should not be delegated to others.
When he went up on deck, a thin mist shrouded the sea. The crew diligently handled the sails and steered the ship. The priest, holding his wooden cross, was still preaching to the passengers. Lothar stood to one side, listening silently, "devoutly" making the sign of the cross and praying earnestly.
Only after the sermon ended did Lothar approach him. "Where are we now, Father Beckett?"
"We've already passed through the Ionian Gulf; we've completely left the Adriatic Sea." Father Beckett paused, then pointed towards the hazy coastline. "In clear weather, we should be able to see the lighthouse of Morea from here. That is the territory of the Eastern Empire, with customs and traditions vastly different from your homeland."
"The Eastern Empire, huh." Lothar couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. "One day, after the hostilities in the Holy Land have subsided, I must make a trip to Constantinople and witness the splendor of this 'Queen of Cities', the City of Seven Hills."
Beckett teased, "Then you must be careful. A valiant knight like yourself will surely be fervently pursued by those Imperial noblewomen."
Lothar joked, "If it were Empress, I'm afraid I truly would be tempted."
"Who wouldn't be?" Beckett sighed. "After all, she is the most beautiful and most powerful woman in the world. If marrying Princess Sibylla makes one the crown prince of Jerusalem, then marrying the empress makes one the Emperor of the Eastern Empire." The value of the two was on completely different levels.
Lothar smiled and didn't pursue the topic. He wasn't one for idle fantasies; becoming the Emperor of the Eastern Empire was an unattainable dream, merely something to talk about.
"Knight Lothar, did you know? Just now, while I was preaching, the crew members were reminding me to be careful of Sirens today. Usually, we need to be wary of Norman, Moorish, and Berber pirates, but now we have to be cautious of Sirens, whom hardly anyone has ever seen." The priest's tone was somewhat mocking. He had traveled between the Apennine Peninsula and the Holy Land no less than eight or ten times and had never actually encountered any Sirens. In his view, Sirens were just legends concocted by bored sailors.
Suddenly, someone spoke up, "Father, the reason few have seen them is that those who have are all dead." The speaker was the captain of this ship, a middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face.
"Just as you surely don't know what a miserable life Christians sold to African chiefdoms lead, you also cannot know what end befell those crewmen who once witnessed Sirens. But not knowing doesn't mean they don't exist."
The captain's tone was grave as he warned, "It is said that Sirens are accustomed to appearing in sunless weather, using their songs to arouse people's desires, then tearing the ensnared victims apart piece by piece and devouring them. If you hear strange sounds, you must cover your ears!" His tone was very serious. After speaking, he left, looking somewhat nervous.
The two were left looking at each other.
Lothar said with conviction, "I, for one, think he has a point. Not having seen something doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I once personally slew a werewolf at the knightly tournament in Lienz. That, at the very least, proves that creatures from folk legends are not necessarily non-existent."
"But Sirens are legends from pagan mythology."
Lothar said nothing, just gave him a deep look.
Father Beckett hesitated, then after a long pause, said, "I understand your meaning. I will inform the passengers on this ship of the captain's warning." A priest who had spent time in the Holy Land would be more flexible in many respects. After all, even in Jerusalem, merchant caravans of Zoroastrians were welcomed.
In the evening, the fog grew thicker. The whole world seemed to dim because of it. Fringilla stood on deck, wantonly stretching her graceful curves. Most people were asleep at this time; she didn't have to worry about attracting too much attention.
She leaned somewhat lazily on the ship's railing. "My Lord, this life is simply too dull. I spent the whole day facing the wall with that woman Banu; I feel like my vampire existence has dimmed considerably."
Lothar glanced at her and said helplessly, "It might be a bit boring, but it surely can't be more boring than when you're asleep in your coffin."
"Can sleeping be the same as now? When you're asleep, you don't know anything, so you definitely won't feel bored." Fringilla held Lothar's arm, her watery eyes full of expectation. "Please, just let me find some random man to drink from. Just a little will do. I'll throw his body into the sea; the fish will clean up all traces. No one will know I did it."
"No." Lothar frowned. "Fringilla, you need to understand something. I am human, and those you want to drink from are also human. So don't speak of such things so lightly. And, I've warned you, without my permission, you are not to harm anyone."
Fringilla huffed. "Aren't I seeking your permission right now?"
Lothar said gravely, "My answer is already very clear. Also, it's said that Sirens attack passing ships in this stretch of sea. Sirens are monsters that live in the deep sea; they detest light, so tonight's weather is perfect for their activity. You'd best be careful."
"Hmph, mere Sirens. Those wanton creatures who love to mate with humans, do they actually have any formidable skills worth mentioning?" Fringilla was somewhat disdainful. If Sirens were monsters on the level of a campus ghost story, then vampires were at least two tiers higher, belonging to urban legends.
"Still, don't be careless. Fringilla, your strength hasn't recovered yet; it's severely suppressed. Compared to the supernatural creatures of this world, you might not be much stronger." Lothar advised patiently, "Pride is the foremost of the seven deadly sins. I've told you many times, this world is not much simpler than yours. I don't want you to lose your life one day due to arrogance."
"Aiyo, I know, I know! Milord, why are you as annoying as a nagging, pedantic old fogey?" Fringilla showed an impatient expression.
And then came the notification of increased affection.
'This stubborn child.'
A slight smile appeared on Lothar's face. "Don't be so impatient. When we get back to the cabin later, I'll tell you and Banu a story, how about that?"
"Fine." Fringilla showed a reluctant expression, but in reality, she was extremely expectant. Lothar, thoroughly steeped in web novels, had countless interesting stories in his head.
"Are you still going to tell the story from last night?"
"You don't want to hear it?"
"Hmm—I guess I can listen." Fringilla's tone was somewhat vague as she quickened her pace with a bounce in her step, an irrepressible joy about her. No one had ever told her bedtime stories before.