"You... You are not a bishop!! Sir Andrew, the captain of the palace guard and captain, immediately sensed something extremely unusual in the voice of the "bishop" of St. Michael's church, in his broken Low Scottish pronunciation and pronunciation. Moreover, the shape of the facial features and beard of this "bishop" is also very far from that of a real bishop, so it can be said that he is not a person at all.

"Stay!" Jazz stepped back and reached for his sword at his waist before yelling at the squire behind him. But when he reached out to draw his sword, his right hand caught nothing. He looked down at his left waist and cursed to himself, "Damn, my sword is still in the room." ”

With no sword to use offensively or defensively against the strange "Bishop", Sir placed his hopes of survival on the squire he had brought with him. However, it was too late. All he heard was "Hmm... Hmm..."The voice came from the direction behind him, and when he turned his head, he saw that a left hand that seemed to emerge from the endless darkness ghostly covered the squire's mouth from behind.

Immediately afterward, a right hand also emerged from the darkness behind the attendant, holding a long, slender disc dagger with a sharp triangular dagger blade. Almost in the blink of an eye, I saw the right hand stab the squire's neck on the right side with the disc dagger in his hand......

The attendant didn't even say a word, rolled his eyes, and immediately died in place. At this moment, the right hand in the darkness suddenly drew a narrow dagger blade, and a large amount of black-red blood gushed out from the wound on the outside of the attendant's neck like a spring. Then, the attendant, who had been stabbed to death on the spot, fell to the ground like a puddle of mud.

Sir Andrew gritted his teeth, and slowly stepped back in a defensive posture with his hands in front of him, and roared in a low voice, "Who are you?" Why pretend to be a bishop? ”

Without saying a word, the young man disguised as a bishop took off the bishop's Roman robes he was wearing, revealing an infantry bust inside. Then, turning around and picking up a scabbarded gauntlet from the altar, he drew the blade of the sword and slowly walked towards the sir. At this moment, the voice of a young woman came from the darkness to the right of Sir Sir and heard him say in English, "Sir Andrew Melville, why don't you sit down and talk?" ”

Sir Andrew was taken aback, and then turned to look around him, only to see several monks who had been standing in the hall from different directions with swords in hand. With no weapons in his hand to resist the enemy, and watching his long-dead squire lying on the ground, Sir lowered his fists in frustration.

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Sir Andrew sat on a pew, where seekers and seekers came to pray or attend church, his hands tied to the armrests, and his feet bound to the legs. He stared coldly at the woman sitting across from him in a silver humanoid mask, and then looked contemptuously at several men in three-quarter armor or infantry half-armor beside the woman, and said in Lowland Scottish, "What do you want, stinky woman?" ”

The woman grinned and sneered, her lips squirming slightly under the mask and said in English, "Sir, you still don't want to talk to me in English?" ”

"You're English, aren't you? I thought, yes. So, I'll only talk to you in our language. Sir spoke coldly in English with a distinctly Low Scottish accent.

"Well, if you want to serve your queen and your kingdom, I will serve my king and kingdom, and so will they." The young woman in the mask said calmly, turning her head to look at the two young men beside her, "The captain is a brave knight. However, the knight was now a little thirsty, so he went and fetched some water and some cloth. ”

"Yes, Your Excellency." Two young men walked briskly out of the hall where the interrogation was taking place.

"Thirsty? What does this stinky woman want to do? The silent knight thought to himself, "Why do those two men call her 'Your Excellency'?" ”

At this moment, the night deepened, and the faint yellow candlelight flickering in the hall of St. Michael's church slid down the walls and melted into the darkness. A short time later, two young men returned to the hall with a large bucket of water and a few irregularly shaped pieces of linen or cotton cloth, and walked straight to Sir Andrew, who was tied to a long chair.

One man walked up behind Jazz and reached out to grab him by the neck and threw him back, Jazz's face was facing up, while another man covered Jazz's entire face with a piece of cloth. Without waiting for Jazz to speak, he scooped some water into the bucket with a large wooden scoop and poured it on the fabric of Jazz's face.

The execution scene was very quiet, except for the sound of a large amount of water being poured on Jazz's face. The two young men who were carrying out the sentence covered Jazz's face layer after layer of cloth, pouring water on him in the process. Jazz, who had been treated like this, suddenly scribbled his hands and kicked his feet, full of unbearable pain that he had never tried before.

In less than a few moments, the highly effective means of punishment made Sir Andrew want to kill himself. At this moment, Jazz, who had been vomiting and coughing and dying, suddenly felt that there was no longer a large amount of water being poured on his face, and immediately opened his mouth and swallowed hard. At the same time, he heard the woman's voice, "Let go of Sizz." ”

Jazz, who had a large amount of thick snot on his face and a trace of blood coming out of his eyes, nostrils, and mouth, stared at the woman opposite him and said weakly in English, "Woman, you... Do you want to get... What the? ”

The woman with one leg crooked the corners of her mouth, "Sir, are you willing to talk to me in English now?" Well, it's okay to speak French. After all, what I want to know may be a royal secret to you. ”

"A royal secret? What the hell does this stinky woman want to know? Does it have something to do with the Queen? At this moment, Sir Andrew, who was already drooping his head, tried to clear his mind, and kept thinking about such questions.

While he was still thinking, a pair of feet in riding boots appeared in the sight of Sir looking to the ground, and then he heard a voice in French, "Sir, tell me, where is the Queen?" ”

"God, these people are indeed spies sent by the English, what should I do?" Sir didn't speak for a moment, still thinking quickly.

"Sir, have you figured out how to answer me?" The woman's voice rang in her ears again.

Sir Andrew slowly raised his head to look at the silver face in the darkness, and said slowly, "The Queen is in the right place for her." ”

The woman stretched out her right index finger and swung it back and forth in front of him a few times, "Sir, I hope you have thought about it before answering me." ”