Just when Agape planted his harmless and gentle roots in the bishop's garden and planted his feet in the bishop's territory, Gerald's wish was initially realized.
The poisonous blood is still flowing in his body. If anyone dares to touch his skin, they will find that his body temperature is different from that of ordinary people - he has been running a fever intermittently.
Everyone was afraid of Bardas' reputation, but for Gerald, it was really easy to convince a warrior. He claimed to be a defector from the Scott family. After Mrs. Jane raised the banner of rebellion and executed the previous head of the family, the branches of the family that did not support her were also massacred. He was lucky enough to escape and get acquainted with Xia Zuo.
"For this reason?" Bardas stared at him, "For this reason, the Molucca took my son's life?"
Gerald laughed.
"Let us not beat around the bush and speak clearly," he said. "Xia Zuo's gift list contains a large number of the purest ginger and spikenard, black and white pepper, ginger and rue, and other things that can only be Called a rare spice, IMHO, he does not have the connections or financial resources to support this generous gift. Even for the Ducasse family, this gift is too heavy a burden. And the final destination of this trip is Morocco Luka, as the son of a Portuguese courtier, how dare he go beyond his king and contact the Spice Islands without permission? If discovered by the king, this will definitely be considered a felony, along with treason." Bardas'
expression Increasingly gloomy, Gerald ignored him and continued: "So, the only possibility is that he received a mission, to put it bluntly, a mission from King Manuel I himself. This mission requires him On behalf of the royal family of Portugal, he went to get closer to the Moluccas with expensive gifts. But unfortunately and unfortunately, he heard some rumors on the way and met me." "
Then what do you think," Bardas "What kind of rumors are they?"
Gerald shrugged: "Rumors about me being a Thousand-Eyed Crow, rumors that I can grow spices, rumors that I am absolutely proficient in spices... nothing more than these. In short, He found me and gained a friendship. But..."
He paused just right, adding a layer or two of regret and pain to his tone just right.
"I'm sorry, I will say that I hurt him." Gerald said regretfully, "As a witness of friendship, I gave him a formula. At that time, I never thought that his destination would be the Moluccas. .This recipe is...private."
"Private." Bardas stared at him.
"Private," Gerald repeated, "that is a secret recipe belonging to the Moluccas. When I was a Scot, this recipe was my privilege, but it is no longer. Xia Zuo must be in Scot. What was exposed in front of the special people, my anonymity, and the secret recipe. I...I'm sorry." It was a
complete lie, but Gerald was born to know how to deceive the world. He knew that Bardas had to believe him because he had no one else to trust regarding his son's death.
Bardas's shoulders dropped slightly, and he slowly exhaled.
"So, when it comes to Molucca, how can you guarantee that you can win the status of the head of the family?" The old man looked at him with sharp eyes, "I always believe that more words are better than more actions, but this matter is of great importance, you You must convince me first."
Gerald was silent for a moment.
"You know, the most important thing in ocean navigation is to determine the position of the ship," he said in a hoarse voice and in a casual tone. "The Arabs called this method Kamal. Orientals used observation in the long past. Astrology, the Roman boatmen, first used the method of measuring the angles of celestial bodies to locate ships." "
People used any simple tool during navigation, an arm, a thumb, or a stick to make observations. The angle remains unchanged to maintain the course. Hundreds of years ago, Mediterranean navigators invented the Jacob's rod to measure celestial bodies. After that, the cross goniometer appeared, and people were able to obtain the position of the sun. Observation method As he became more proficient, the instruments for observation became more sophisticated, until one end of the hole in the astrolabe could see starlight, and the other end could see sunlight. Finally, the magnetic compass of the Oriental people came into the hands of sea people. From then on, every sailor could distinguish it without the need for experienced sailors. A safe position.
"A long time ago, we used birds, fish, water currents, glaciers, and clouds to predict the weather, and spent our lives to accumulate navigation experience. Gerald said lightly, "Now, we create tools and learn to avoid storms and reefs until the ocean is no longer mysterious." He
looked directly into Bardas's eyes: "The wheel of the times is advancing unstoppably. General, did you hear the rumbling sound?" Whether it is the Moluccas or other ancient empires, the strong will eventually weaken, and the small will eventually become huge. Nothing in the world can survive forever under this power. "
Mrs. Jane's rebellion failed to kill me, the sea and torture failed to get rid of me, and the killer's attacks failed to do anything to me." Gerald Scott was dead, and Jane Scott was not far behind. If the change of ownership of the Molucca is imminent, then why can't I be the one to control its outcome? "
Bardas looked at him and said slowly: "You are really a very arrogant and rude egomaniac, Mr. Black Crow. "
After he said this, he paused for a moment and then said: "But, I am willing to give your arrogance a chance.
"I can provide a fleet of twenty-five sailing ships, equipped with crews, as well as food, artillery and other necessary personnel for a year's sailing. " Tell me, how much are you willing to pay to get this grant? Gerald
laughed hoarsely. He turned his head, looked at the old general, and suddenly said: "You don't seem to be sad for your son at all, Bardas of Ducas."
" Sad? " "Bardas frowned, "I don't need to prove anything to you, but if I don't value this revenge, I won't leave my country's affairs and come here to see you; if I don't value this revenge, I won't issue a Such a huge stake in response to your ridiculous ambitions. Now answer my question, how much are you willing to pay? "
In the first three years of the spice trade, you and your family will be responsible for the entire Portuguese business market. You will have the right to choose first. As long as you don't nod your head, any ship sailing to Portugal will not have a single star from Morocco." Deer adds cloves, cardamom and cinnamon bark. "Three years later, you are still my most important partner," Gerard said. "The Moluccas will never forget the great friendship from Dukas." That's my answer. "
Bardas said: "Three years is too short, I want six years. Gerald
laughed: "Wouldn't those six years be too greedy, General?" Don’t get me wrong, I am not judging your greed from my own standpoint, but from the standpoint of Manuel I, your monarch. Three years is okay to say, but if it really is six years, money can make the most devout saint fall. Seeing the profits of the Ducas family, I really don't know what your king will do.
Bardas was unmoved: "Five years. " "
Four years, General," Gerald sighed, "How about we each take a step back?" "
Bardas stared at him coldly and said in a deep voice: "Then, you'd better complete your revenge, along with my son's share. "
The general left, the door closed, and the smile on Gerald's face gradually disappeared. The strength was rapidly draining from him, and he stood expressionless, no longer thinking about how to mediate with the power with all his efforts. He was bargaining.
He only felt tired and had pain that penetrated into his bones.
The memory tortured him, and the anger coursed unwaveringly through his veins. As long as he closed his eyes, he could still see everything, everything dark, cruel and bloody, everything that happened to him.
A few years ago, he was Gerald Scott, the master of spices, the black crow who announced the funeral, his hands stained with the blood of relatives and enemies, the storm swirling in his eyes, the men and women who looked at him They were all frightened and prayed in their hearts not to be harmed by him.
But this wasn't him anymore...not ever again. The experience of being imprisoned, tortured, disfigured, humiliated, and completely lost his dignity has completely covered the image of the powerful Gerald Scott, leaving only an ugly lame, a A frightened bird who has to live in trauma and shadow his whole life.
In a way, Jane Scott had already won. She had destroyed her eldest brother so completely that no power in the world could rebuild him to wholeness.
Gerald gritted his teeth. Once again, he stood in the empty room, in pain with no tears to shed. He stood there for a long time, resentfully, for an unknown amount of time, until his whole body was as cold as ice. He was still in a trance, unable to move a step.
what do I do?
How do I escape from this pain and humiliation?
I hate Jean Scott, I hate everyone who shares Scott's blood, but God, I hate myself most of all. I hate myself for being careless and arrogant to the point of underestimating the enemy. I hate myself for being dragged down by iron chains and unable to do anything. I hate myself for being choked by blood and screaming in severe pain and fear...a thousand times ten thousand times
. This time, he wished he could turn back time and return to the moment when the rebellion first took shape - if he could go back to that day, he would be willing to exchange everything for it!
...Unfortunately, time is not such a contemptible thing. It never depends on anyone's will. It is tenacious and cold and is better than the sum of everything in the world.
It was a long night, and Gerald fell to the ground. He closed his eyes in a daze until he could no longer hold on. But not long after, he was covered in cold sweat again and struggled to wake up, because nightmares were nothing more than ordinary. Earth visited his mind, making him tremble and make him cry.
It was dawn, and his eyes were sunken, staring numbly at the sun outside the window. The ancient sages said in a joking tone that "the way back in life is pain." He thought it was ridiculous and couldn't understand it before, but now he really understands it, but he has paid a high price for it.
A few weeks later, the fleet promised by Bardas arrived at the port of his city. However, there were still two ships with a displacement of about 80 tons that had not been completed. The decks still needed to be varnished several times and covered with tar, except for the sails. , masts and rigging hull surfaces to improve the waterproof function.
The boatmen, made up of thieves, thieves and heretics, worked day and night, but it was not an easy job after all. Gerald stood on the shore, and his eyelids jumped heavily when he saw the whip threateningly waved in the hands of the overseer.
"Tell them to use less whips." He whispered to the first mate beside him with a sinister expression.
The words were passed on, but they were not very powerful. After all, Gerald was an outsider. In the eyes of the sailors, Bardas gave him trust for no reason, but it did not mean that he was a leader worthy of the crew's trust. His reputation and the title of the Thousand-Eyed Crow were just a pretense. , nothing to be afraid of.
One evening, Gerald suddenly heard a shouting sound, a crisp cracking sound, as well as yelling and wailing sounds coming from the deck. He went out and saw the chief overseer whipping a boatman.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp phantom pain.
The whips he had received were not so mild, but how many times had he received them? One thousand blows, two thousand blows? He couldn't remember it clearly, but the anger was so clear that he instantly arched his back like a stinging snake.
The overseer's whip was grabbed. When he looked back, he saw the terrifying and forbidding face of the Thousand-Eyed Crow, like a devil emerging from purgatory.
"I said, use the whip less." Gerald whispered, "Next time, you just try it and see the result."
Facing that face and his own aura, the supervisor was so frightened that he said no. But afterward, when the Portuguese sailors gathered together and whispered, the fear of the black crow was dispelled by your words and my words. They all agreed that the cripple was bluffing.
As a result, the abuse of lynching was not hindered in the slightest, but it was more secretive and not carried out in front of Gerald. The news on the ship was well concealed, so when a boatman who was beaten unbearably came to him to complain, in addition to rage, there was also a kind of transcendent calm that rose in his heart at the same time.
"Lead the way," Gerrard said.
He found the overseer who had committed the most crimes in the tavern on the shore. Gerald quietly appeared behind him, reached out first and took away the whip from the other person's waist.
The overseer jumped up, thinking that some daring thief had reached out to him. However, when he looked up and saw the figure of the Thousand-Eyed Crow, his brown face, reddened by drunkenness, turned white in a flash.
He wanted to say something, but Gerald remained silent, and the first whip struck the overseer squarely in the face, causing the man to howl in pain and try to raise his arms to protect his body. Gerald's lips were twisted into a joyful smile, and abnormal joy spurted out, flowing through his limbs and bones like an electric current.
The second whip hit the overseer's chest, and the barb at the top sliced open his chest and lower abdomen as smoothly as a dagger. The blood flowed out like a fountain, fierce and fast.
Yes, how fragile the human body is when faced with professional execution instruments! Gerald suppressed the laughter in his throat so hard that the sound he made was like the satisfied growl of a wild animal as it feeds.
He concocted more screams of pain, more fear, more blood, and the sound of the whip lashing the air was like a thousand ghosts screaming in the wind. This violent whipping made the previously arrogant man cry like a helpless baby at this moment, making him like a pig in a pigsty, overturned tables and chairs, broken cups and plates, and He rolled as hard as he could on the dirty muddy ground.
Gerard's heart was filled with cruel relief. For a moment, he was no longer facing an overseer, but a Moluccan jailer and executioner. Illusion and reality were perfectly blended into one, and while he used his whip to turn the poor creature at his feet into a puddle of flesh, his eyes widened wildly - would they do the same? Will you also burst into tears when pain and torture come? Will they also plead, put off their arrogant and despicable expressions, and kneel in the blood and soil to plead?
The tavern was completely silent, except for his panting, which was the sound of the overseer's extremely weak and intermittent breathing.
Gerald dropped the whip, ending the trial and leaving behind a pile of inhuman flesh.
"I said... use the whip less."
His body and face were spattered with blood and bits of flesh. Looking around, no one dared to look at the devil. The sailor and bartender said nothing, and some even huddled behind their companions and cried silently.
The twitching smile was still looming on Gerald's lips, and then he turned around and strode out of the tavern as silently as when he came.