The fat man led Eric and his group all the way to the only surviving building in the center of the village—the Church.

In truth, it hadn’t been intentionally spared. A large section of its front wall was blackened. It was the only brick building in the entire village; the arsonists had probably left in a hurry, not bothering to check the effect of their fire, which is how it managed to survive.

Eric entered the chapel. About two dozen raggedly dressed men were holed up inside, likely the other villagers.

One of them, a middle-aged man with a braided beard, stood up, gripping the axe at his side as he eyed Eric’s group warily.

"Itamar, what are you doing?"

"Relax, Elman. If they were hostile, they would have made their move already. Besides, what do you think we have left to be taken, other than our lives?" Itamar shrugged nonchalantly.

As Itamar finished speaking, a wave of laughter rippled through the surrounding villagers, and they began to chatter amongst themselves.

"For example, before we die, we could have had a dozen more meals. Now with so many new people, maybe we’ll only get three or four."

"Also, the shit from over seventy people is definitely going to smell worse than the shit from twenty-something. Let’s just hope none of them have diarrhea."

"Honestly, I don’t care about a few more men. If only some of them were women."

"..."

The villagers’ joking remarks, however, did nothing to put Elman at ease.

"Alright, Elman. There’s a Priest here. Maybe he can do something for your wife."

Itamar walked over to Elman and pushed him back down into his seat.

Hearing the word "wife," Elman’s expression softened slightly, and he complied with Itamar.

When the surrounding villagers heard the word "Priest," they too stopped their chatter. The chapel fell silent.

Itamar then waved at Eric’s group, gesturing for them to find a place to sit and rest.

"A Norman Priest? How ironic." Elman glared at Eric.

"Christ was a Jew. Are you going to reject His salvation just for that?" Eric replied with a light chuckle, looking at Elman.

"You..."

"Alright, Elman, that’s enough. My apologies, Priest. That’s just how he is. He’s a traveling executioner—you know the types who do that kind of work aren’t quite right in the head. He’s also been through a lot recently, but he’s not a bad person."

Itamar patted Elman’s shoulder.

"Who are you, really? Don’t use the Priest’s Identity as a shield."

"They’re Northern People."

"I wasn’t asking you, Itamar." Elman shoved Itamar aside irritably.

Itamar shrugged. "Fine, have it your way. I’ll go see about dinner."

"We are actually Frank mercenaries, hired by the Northern People to fight against King William’s rule. Rest assured, we mean no harm. Even if we did, you wouldn’t be able to stop us if we decided to attack." Robert spoke up, but his English was quite clumsy and sounded strange.

"We’re all dead men anyway. Killing a few Normans before I go would bring me some joy. It’d be well worth it," Elman said coldly.

Eric nudged Leif with his elbow. Back on the Isle of Man, Leif had said the same thing.

Leif pretended nothing had happened and didn’t respond.

"I can’t take it anymore! This guy is too arrogant! Damn it, you peasant, believe it or not, I’ll cut you down!" Belem’s hand went to the hilt of his Sword as he started to charge at Elman.

But he was quickly restrained by those beside him.

Belem’s English was much worse than Robert’s. He could only vaguely understand what was being said and couldn’t converse in it, so he was shouting in Norman French.

"What is he trying to do?" Elman gripped his axe, watching Belem warily.

"The kid’s a sad case, really. He’s one of the Mann People from Frankish lands. The Mann People have been at war with the Normans for years, and they face the same hardships as England.

"His parents were also killed by Normans, and he hasn’t been right in the head since. So he loses control whenever he hears talk of ’killing Normans’." Eric sighed sympathetically.

"Is that so? Then what about you?"

"I am Clergy, a Servant of God. My body has already been offered to God. As I said before, Christ himself was a Jew. Would you reject His salvation because of that?"

Eric spread his hands, as if a holy light were shining down on him.

"Alright. I apologize for my earlier behavior." Elman stood and gave Eric a slight bow as a sign of apology.

"It’s fine. We’re essentially refugees from the north. Our employer was defeated, our payment is gone, and so we’ve fallen on hard times. We’re not even sure where we are right now." Eric waved his hand dismissively.

"This is Brightlingsea, in the county of Essex," Elman said.

Essex was the core fiefdom of Geoffrey Mandeville, the Earl of Essex.

’The area bordered Suffolk, so it seems we haven’t strayed too far.’

"What happened to your village? Was it to defend against an external enemy?"

"External enemy? What a load of crap! The Normans are the greatest external enemy England has! Our village is in this state thanks to that Earl of Essex. We’re all that’s left of it now."

"It was definitely these troublemakers who struck first! The Nobility was acting in self-defense!" Belem shouted in French from the back.

"What is he..." Elman looked toward Belem.

"He’s saying all Normans are bastards and deserve to die." Eric waved a hand, gesturing not to mind him. "So, why did he destroy the village?"

"We killed a few of his guards," Elman said.

Belem, as if his point had been proven, shouted again in French, "See! I told you! These troublemakers started it!"

Seeing Eric frown, Elman quickly added, "It’s because he kept raising taxes and land rent every year. I couldn’t afford it anymore. If we had paid, we wouldn’t have been able to survive this winter.

"The adults can stand to miss a few meals, but the village had a lot of newborns this year. The children wouldn’t have survived the winter. We went to his castle to protest, but it was useless. We were harshly driven away.

"After that, we had no choice. We posed as rebels and killed a few of his men."

Belem muttered in French, "Regardless, striking first is wrong! They deserve to be killed!"

"We thought it would make the Count back down. But three days later, while we were out hunting in the mountains, the Count led his men and slaughtered everyone in the village. Men, women, old, young... no one was spared. My wife and children..." His voice choked with emotion.

The people around them all turned to look at Belem.

Belem shrugged, annoyed by their stares. He said in French, "What are you looking at me for? It wasn’t me who did it. At least I don’t kill women. Can’t we stick to the facts here? Odo’s the one who likes doing this kind of stuff, go look for him."