kingdom of nations

Chapter 118 Haredi's Chance Encounter
"Haredi!"

Hearing his wife's call, Haredi turned around on the camel's back. His wife was already swaying precariously on the camel's back, but her hands were still tightly holding their little daughter. "Let's...stop and rest for a while," she pleaded. "I'm so tired, and so is Miram."

As she spoke, she painfully licked her chapped lips, turned her head away and pulled her headscarf tighter, whether to avoid the increasingly scorching sun or to prevent her husband from seeing the hatred on her face.

“We’ve already rested many times. If we keep doing this, we won’t be able to reach the next water source before sunset,” Haredi patiently explained to her.

Unfortunately, his patience was of no use. "I want to go back to Bethlehem!" his wife suddenly cried out hoarsely. "Why can't we stay in Bethlehem?" she demanded. "You are a goldsmith, a skilled goldsmith! Monsieur Lego said that you can get a stable job in Bethlehem, and with him as your intermediary, the guilds there will accept you."

“If you agree, they will immediately provide you with lodging, tools, apprentices, basic gold and silver, jewels, and servants,” she said eagerly—the last item being what she most anticipated. While in Bielebais, although they faced ostracism from their peers and were unable to serve the nobles and caliphs due to their faith, Haredi enjoyed an excellent reputation for both his credibility and skill among the inhabitants of Bielebais.

Haredi's wife was also an Isaac, but she was just the daughter of an Isaac merchant in Bielebaus. There were almost no hermit Isaacs in Bielebaus, and even if some hermit Isaacs traveled with caravans, they would not bother him. Their lives were peaceful and leisurely. As the wife of a goldsmith, she could not compare with those noblewomen who wore jewels and silk, and she never experienced a day of hardship.

But this peaceful life was shattered on the day Bielebas fell by those despicable Christians.

However, when Haredi's wife learned that they could leave Bilesby by paying a ransom, she was filled with the joy of a stroke of luck—when the Crusaders breached Arazarus, they had killed all the Saracens and Isaacs in the city—she even felt that she and her family were being looked after by God.

This thought persisted until she met the Crusader knight, who forced them to hand over their youngest daughter. She felt as if she had fallen from heaven to hell. How could she bear to do it? It was as if a piece of her flesh had been ripped away with a knife. Of course, she didn't want to give up her youngest daughter, but she was also afraid.

She feared that if they persisted or resisted, the knight would kill them on the spot without hesitation, and their youngest daughter would still be destined to become a slave, or even worse.

But just then, an adult willing to speak up for them appeared—although he was still a child in terms of age, he still made a fair judgment.

She even felt a moment of disorientation when her family walked out of Bielebaise completely intact.

Although they had nothing but the clothes on their bodies at that time, she was not alarmed. She knew how amazing her husband's craftsmanship was. People would even joke that he must have been under the watchful eye of a saint to be able to create such exquisite and imaginative items.

Anyone who has read Harry's works would have no doubt that he would one day serve a duke or a king.

Therefore, when Haredi told her that he was going to Bethlehem, she strongly agreed.

Bethlehem is the second holiest site after the road to Arazars, and every holy place worshipped by pilgrims is incomplete without icons, crosses, reliquary boxes, and all kinds of rosaries, jewelry and accessories with sacred meaning. There are more craftsmen on the road to Arazars than pebbles on the ground, and Bethlehem is no exception.

As she wished, Haredi quickly found a friend. The Isaacs were known for their stinginess, harshness, and almost cruel shrewdness, but they always advocated mutual help and support within their community—although sometimes, out of necessity, they would occasionally set a trap or send someone to die—this was not common, and Haredi's profession did not conflict with the other party's.

As soon as Haredi’s friends saw them, they immediately and enthusiastically arranged accommodation and dinner for them.

From that night on, Haredi's wife seemed to have returned to her days in Bielebaise, free from the hardships and anxieties of life, where she could enjoy soft beds, plentiful food, and warm baths, with servants attentively attending to her every need.

After only a few days, not only Harry's wife but even their youngest daughter regained some color in their faces. She was fully convinced that Harry would settle down in Bethlehem. She had even decided whether to borrow money in her father's name, have Harry borrow money himself, or rent a shop from Harry's friend and repay the principal and interest with his artwork or earnings—she had complete confidence in her husband and was not worried at all that the loan would bankrupt them.

But to her surprise, before she could even smile, Haredi brought her devastating news.

Haredi had no intention of staying in Bethlehem. Instead, after receiving financial assistance from his old friend, he would not open a shop, build a workshop, or seek a steward's recommendation to gain opportunities with influential people. Instead, he would use the money to buy camels and mules, prepare food and water, and take them back to the Hermit's camp.

"what?"

“I was a member of the Hermits’ group, but I left for some reason. Now I’m going back.”

Haredi's wife nearly went mad upon hearing this; she was also an Isaac. Of course, she had heard of the "Hermits," a small group within their community. Unlike most Isaacs, even after thousands of years, they hadn't changed much, adhering to the most ancient and orthodox beliefs and doctrines.

They do not lend money, do not trade, and do not exchange currency. Each member of the hermit school has only one profession: farmer, or rather, scholar who makes a living by farming. They cultivate fields in extremely remote places, draw water from rivers, and grow wheat or vegetables, or perhaps grapes and figs.

In their settlements, there were no poor or rich, no servants or slaves; everyone was equal.

They rise each day to greet the sunlight, bathe in the river, then change into simple linen robes and go to work diligently in the fields or vineyards. They are said to be very skilled at cultivating wheat, vegetables, and fruits, thus becoming self-sufficient. Aside from occasional trade (as they do need necessities like salt, earthenware pots, and cloth), they have almost no contact with the outside world. At sunset, they begin to study and pray.

They have been living this way for hundreds of years, and perhaps they will continue to do so in the future. This kind of life sounds sacred and noble enough, but Haredi's wife does not intend to be the wife of an ascetic, nor does she want her daughter to grow up in such a harsh environment.

But as Isaac's woman, she lacked the courage to voice her opposition, whether in words or actions.

She could only think to herself—she would rather go back to Bielebaus, to be honest, even being a slave and servant of Christians might not be worse than being a member of the hermits—otherwise why would peasants try so hard to get into the castle to work?
But she also knew that although Harry was usually taciturn and gentle enough to treat them, he was not the kind of person whose thoughts would be swayed by his wife's words. She dared not disobey openly and could only try to delay, hoping that Harry would change his mind during this time—at least, if he wanted to go back, then he could go back by himself. Damn it, she would rather stay in Bethlehem.

She had already heard that the new lord of Bethlehem was the very knight who had saved their youngest daughter. If he retained the justice and kindness he had shown in Bielebas, then it wouldn't be so bad for her and her youngest daughter to remain alone in Bethlehem.

Haredi may have sensed what his wife was thinking, but like all husbands, he dismissed it as a woman's weakness and eccentricity, paying it little heed. He gently patted the camel's neck, urging it to slow down, until his wife's camel slowly caught up. He turned to check on his daughter. Haredi's wife hadn't lied; adults could endure the scorching sun, the sweltering air, and the discomfort of the bumpy ride.

But for the children, this was three kinds of torment. They had only been out of Bethlehem for half a day when the little girl withered quickly like a flower without water. Her face was flushed and her limbs were limp. She did not look well.

"Give her some water."

“I’ve already fed her,” Haredi’s wife muttered. “Or give her some more candy.”

“No.” Harris glanced at the sky. While sugar could certainly invigorate one, it would also quickly dehydrate the mouth. Although they had brought several leather sacks of water, there was never enough water in the desert.

“Let’s speed up,” he said, contradicting his wife’s wishes, “and get to the next water source as soon as possible.”

Where there is a water source, there is usually a village or tribe. Although the place Haredi described is hard to call a village, it is more of a settlement.

There are only a few low houses here, but relying on the water source, the residents can make a living by providing food, water and hay for passing caravans.

As Haredi said, they arrived at dusk, but several bonfires had already been lit in the open space outside the village. Haredi cautiously reined in his camel. "You stay here," he said, then jumped off the camel and carefully walked forward.

Before long, his expression relaxed. It was a caravan, an Isaac caravan.

The people in the caravan also saw Haredi, and upon seeing their similar attire, they visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

Haredi's wife stood where the firelight couldn't reach and saw them greeting and shaking hands with Haredi. After a while, two men carrying torches escorted Haredi back. They led camels and mules, taking them to the largest campfire. The desert nights are very cold.

When they saw that Haredi's wife was holding a little girl, they immediately led them into an empty house nearby. "We've already rented this house," the caravan leader said. "Stay here and relax."

Haredi's wife gave a grateful smile. She and her little daughter really needed a place to lie down and rest, and of course, a place to shelter from the wind and rain. She took two steps forward and found that there was a thick blanket on the ground. She immediately cried out "God bless!" and put her little daughter on it. Then she unfolded the cloak and wrapped her up.

The caravan leader stood at the entrance for a while before turning and walking towards the campfire. "Brother, where are you going?" he asked.

He had a reason to ask that question. After all, in this place rife with bandits, Haredi was walking alone in the desert with a woman and a child, without any servants or hired wandering knights. Wasn't he afraid of encountering any threats?

Not to mention, even without bandits, there are wolves in the desert.

Haredi first thanked him for his kind reminder, and then said, "The place we're going to isn't far from here; it should only take two or three days to return safely to our hometown."

The leader cracked his knuckles, roughly estimating the time and distance. "Where are you going? To Banias or Damascus?" Neither of these places can be reached in two or three days.

“Of course not,” Haredi said. “I’m going to Qumran.” If he had said this to a Christian, the Christian might not have known what kind of place he was talking about, but since he was speaking to an Isaac man—who, although not a hermit, knew of the existence of hermits and knew that Qumran was a hermit settlement.

Are you a scholar from there?

“Quinlan has no scholars, only farmers,” Haredi replied with a smile.

The leader did not argue; the hermits were like a group of ascetics who could marry. Although they had no money, no land, and no titles, they were highly respected and trusted by the people of Sasa—even though most of them had become infamous, petty, and profit-driven, they still retained a sliver of their principles.

That is, perhaps one day, they too will be able to cleanse themselves of their sins and be reborn.

If the Isaacs are now a withered, decaying tree, then the Hermits are their purest shoots. They would even say that if the fire of Hell were to rise to the earth, the Isaacs would hold the Hermits on their heads, preferring to die, fall, and suffer themselves rather than watch their hope perish.

He glanced at Harry, knowing this stubborn fellow probably wouldn't accept too much kindness. So he thought for a moment and asked, "Do you grow wheat there? Grapes? Or vegetables?"

Haredi nodded. "Then can you let us go back with you?" the caravan leader said. "I need to buy some grain, wheat, vegetables, grapes, or wine, the more the better, and I can get a very good price. You can take whatever you want."

"Is there another war going on somewhere?"

“I don’t know,” the caravan leader said, glossing over the topic. “I came from Damascus. But the Saracens never seem to stop fighting; perhaps they are preparing to take Arazarus.”

He made a joke.

(End of this chapter)