"What kind of werewolf is this, without any dark aura?"
A muffled question came from beneath the knight's steel visor. His gleaming silver plate armor reflected streaks of golden radiance, and a scorching heat washed over Ivan. Stimulated by that power, a measure of clarity returned to Ivan's eyes.
The knight was speaking Latin. Ivan could tell.
As one of the Ayyubids' former elite Mamluks, Ivan had studied everyday Latin and Greek at a church school in Cairo. Though he was far from fluent, he was still better than Fulk, the noble lord from Languedoc.
Latin was Europe's common language and the language of theology. Yet even clergy from many remote regions might not speak fluent Latin; they could only recite Latin doctrines during sermons, which generally nobody understood.
In Europe, if a clergyman lost the documents proving his identity, he could simply recite a passage of Latin doctrine as proof.
Thus, Ivan could identify the other man's background from his language alone.
He was one of the Mamluks' old enemies—a Knightly Order knight who had sworn lifelong vows!
Ivan had fought these knights of the militant monastic orders before. Jerusalem's strongest troops were these monastic warriors. Bound for life by the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, they were far braver and more skilled in battle than secular knights.
But after only a brief exchange, Ivan realized this monastic knight, whose surcoat bore a cross, was different. His strength was astonishing, even greater than Ivan's current strength, and the massive two-handed sword in his hands was wreathed in a terrifying golden glow.
Under his assault, Ivan soon found himself hard-pressed on every side.
One of Ivan's trusted men climbed onto the wall at that moment. Seeing Ivan locked in a bitter fight, he bent his legs and leaped