A/N
Yep, taking a stab at the plot of a movie that won't be released for quite awhile. Go figure.
Tolerance
"I wonder...what will future generations think of us?"
"Pardon?"
Sir Charles Vidic of the Knights Templar sighed. Monks never warmed up to a conversation if you didn't include words such as "God" or "sin" in your first sentence. Sometimes he wondered whether their ears had already ascended to Heaven and were waiting for the rest of their body to follow.
Then again, given this wind, maybe that's not such a bad thing.
"Sir Vidic? You said something?"
Trying to ignore the cold in his own ears caused by the bitter winter winds of Europe, the knight looked down on Acolyte Marius. Young, naive and a devoted Christian yet perhaps the only one he could discuss his thoughts on the Crusades with honestly without being called a "heretic" to be categorized in sync with the "infidels" battling for control of the Holy Land.
"I asked what will future generations think of us," repeated the knight. "I mean, our actions to seize control of Jerusalem. What will people think of us centuries from now?
"They will see us as doing God's work," Marius replied simply. "And they will be thankful for it."
It was clear that Marius considered the conversation to be at an end. Not because he didn't want to talk about it, but rather because he'd provided an answer he considered to be absolute. Still, even with a red cross on his tabard, Vidic couldn't be swayed so easily. Desert heat, the coldness of blood...he just couldn't be so sure anymore.
"God's work..." he murmured. "The same one who said judge not, lest thee be judged. The same one the Sarasins worships. The God of the people we fight and kill due to divergences in appearance, culture and faith. Is that what God wants Marius? For us to kill his fellow worshipers?"
"Even those who worship He in Heaven can be heretics, Vidic. You of all people should know that."
Sighing, Vidic gave up. Marius wouldn't report him to anyone, Templar, monk or otherwise, but that didn't mean he would give a decent conversation. And maybe he was right. He, of all people, did know these things. Knew that people were fighting and dying for stupid reasons, knew that the Crusades had become nothing more than a scapegoat for the Catholic Church's political agenda. Judgement based on race was wrong, but desire for power easily overcame petty morality. Still, there was time to think about it later. Vidic knew that night was falling, his company was heading for an old Transylvanian castle to set up camp and that deep sleep would allow him to ponder his thoughts.
After all, there couldn't be anything worse than fellow human beings in there.