"I am a Count of England and Normandy. You may call me Gloucester. Our Shepherd has called upon us to save our brothers, to save the Tomb of Christ from the hands of Heretics.
We are on our way to holy Jerusalem to fight for our Lord."
"Honorable lord, my name is Turandot. I am a servant of Sultan Suleiman of Anatolia and Antioch." Turandot gave Eric another slight bow.
"Turandot. That name is not common among the Arabs." Eric stroked his chin, sizing Turandot up.
"My mother was a Persian, and she gave me this name. It comes from a Persian legend about a distant, ideal kingdom—a land with no hunger, no war, no weeping, and no pain or despair.
Its inhabitants live out their days in peace and prosperity, respecting one another and forever enveloped in the light of hope."
"A beautiful vision indeed. But you're a long way from home."
"I am merely carrying out my lord's command," Turandot answered, his eyes fixed on the Knights holding longswords behind Eric.
