kingdom of nations

Chapter 141 On the Road to Apollo (6)

I am your homeless moon.

Give me a bed.

I have been unable to sleep for centuries.

I am your Damask rose.

Insert me into the first vase you find.

—Syrian poet Nizar Kabbani
Haredi knew he had made a mistake, just like those he had once despised and mocked.

When he saw those unforgettable green eyes at the gates of Damascus and escaped again under their protection, he felt not relief or gratitude, but an uncontrollable greed.

He knew this man. In Bielebas, he had upheld justice for them, preventing them from being separated from their families. And in the Battle of Galilee, without this close advisor to the king, those Christians might not have believed him or given him the opportunity. He would not have been able to avenge his family on the chaotic battlefield that followed.

Perhaps all Isaacs were like that, blind and ungrateful. What he was thinking at that moment was that if he could persuade this young man—who was now King Arazarus's envoy and had made the Saracens benefit from his favor, and if he would so much as show a little pity—at the very least, he could regain his freedom, leave this place, and go to other cities and countries…

Even more so, he could try to rescue other Isaacs through this Christian knight, although some of them were indeed involved in the conspiracy and rebellion, while others, perhaps out of fear of the former, or perhaps out of genuine ignorance—or perhaps innocent, at least the women and children—should be saved in the same way that Cesar was saved by Amalric I…

Haredi knew that if he dared to voice this idea, he would be ridiculed and they would think he was crazy—he muttered, but if going crazy could save thousands of people, why couldn't he do it?

He harbored such delusions and even tried to bargain, but the moment he revealed even the slightest hint of it, those cold green eyes saw right through him—just a fleeting glance was enough to make his courage vanish like dust in the wind in an instant.

Have you ever seen a cheetah tease a lamb? Or a downpour sweep across a flower branch? Their momentary kindness and gentleness are only because the prey is too weak to be worth their effort or vigilance—and so it is with this young man. Haredi knows every word he says is true. If he still wants to run away or seek refuge with someone else, he will personally drag him out of the room and hang him upside down on the wooden frame with those he wants to save.

No, just in case, he might even "kindly" slit Harry's throat beforehand.

Even now, Haredi still doesn't understand why he values ​​him so much...

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Why? Even if Baldwin asked, Cesar would find it difficult to answer.

There is a power here that does not exist in his world, but in turn, this power also stifles the world's thirst for exploration and innovation. If the swords are not sharp enough, or the shields are not strong enough, it doesn't matter, there is "Grace"; if you are sick or injured, it doesn't matter, there is "Blessing"; as for the poor and ordinary people... what can they possibly need?
The nobles treated them like cattle or horses, or even worse.

Their cries were always ignored. In a time when even their lives were not guaranteed, they would not complain that wooden farm tools were not as good as iron ones, nor would they care about coughing, bleeding, or pain... Many people would silently collapse while working, and there were also the infamous "hunger disease" and "demon possession"...

Before the emergence of the "Chosen Ones," whether in Arabi, Apennines, or Frankish regions, you could still see witches and "doctors" walking through villages and towns—a general term used by some to refer to people knowledgeable in herbalism and human anatomy.

But when the church discovered that those who could alleviate or even cure patients simply by touching them were more likely to inspire public trust in the church and lead to large sums of money being poured into the church's donation box, these people disappeared.

Male "doctors" could potentially become priests, but women were destined to become fuel for execution at the stake.

As the number of "chosen ones" increased, the Church's monopoly on "doctors" became increasingly urgent and malicious—even becoming a priest did not mean you could practice medicine at will. These tasks were assigned by bishops, archbishops, and even the Pope. Furthermore, you could not immediately cure patients or the injured; the extent and duration of treatment depended on the decisions of those above.

Just like Heraclius, when he was not yet a patriarch, he could not reveal that he could make ointments. After becoming a patriarch, what he took out was not "ointment" but "holy objects" after consecration... If he dared to say that these were just some ordinary herbs, which even mortals could make according to the prescription, even the priests under his command would be betrayed by him.

After all, besides faith, profit is also what priests are most passionate about.

If even patriarchs acted this way, it goes without saying that ordinary people were even more vulnerable. In the religious inquisition and the church, anyone who dared to touch this "forbidden territory" would be the first to be burned at the stake. And under the relentless brainwashing of the priests, even ordinary people, even those who had benefited from the kindness of these audacious individuals—whether they had been cured of their illness or saved their lives—would not hesitate to betray their benefactors.

With the disappearance of these "doctors," "medicine" and "pharmacology" naturally became something that once existed but now seems like a terrifying legend.

However, when Heraclius was teaching him and Baldwin, he mentioned that some books that had long been destroyed in Christian countries and cities might still exist in Saracen palaces and libraries. Although there were "chosen people" among the Saracens—who, according to them, were given divine revelation and thus gained powers beyond the reach of ordinary people—they did not further divide these sacred sites like the Christian Church did. Once you received the revelation, you could choose to be a "scholar" or a "warrior."

But they did not deny the power of mortals because of this; among them, there were still medicine and doctors.

Moreover, the same situation occurred among the Isaacs, who referred to all those who received God's blessings as "wise men." However, among them were not warriors, but rather figures similar to priests, who held far less power, status, and respect.

“To earn the respect of the Isaacs, you need the power of Mercury (the Roman god of commerce, travelers, and messengers of the gods),” Heraclius remarked sarcastically at the time.

So this is part of the reason why he insisted on going to Apollo this time—Baldwin's chronic illness is still a weight on his and many others' hearts, no matter how leisurely, comfortable, or happy the moment may be, it will prick their hearts like a small thorn.

With the loss of modern equipment and medicine, Cesar's medical knowledge would hardly be enough to cure Baldwin (at least to prevent a relapse in his lifetime). He also knew that some herbs could have a better therapeutic effect than the ointments available today, but he and his teacher had never found any in the markets and merchant ships of Arrassa Road. But what about in the Saracen court and treasury?

Haredi was, in a sense, an unexpected turn of events. Sultan Nur ad-Din, though their enemy, was a respectable one. To allow him to rot, swell, and turn black and foul—even Count Raymond of Tripoli, who hated the Saracens most, would find this excessive. And Cesar, having handled the dead before, couldn't believe that while wiping Nur ad-Din's ribs, he would find a needle prick on his grayish-white skin!

As a doctor, he could not be mistaken; it was not an arrow wound or a puncture wound from any other sharp object, but a needle prick—and it was poisoned, with signs of ulceration and swelling.

He carefully continued searching through Nurdin's clothes and body, and finally found what looked like a broken gold thread in the folds of his belt, or more accurately, a thin crossbow bolt.

Cesar once treated a patient with his teacher (from another world). The patient was a zoo employee who was accidentally struck by a tranquilizer dart while anesthetizing a lion with his colleagues...

The prototype of the flying needle—the blowgun—first appeared in the Stone Age. If what hit Nurdin was just a blowgun with poison on the arrowhead, he wouldn't be so surprised. But this blowgun was hollow, and judging from the structure at the end, it also used the same principle as modern anesthetic needles. After the needle pierced the skin, the medicine would be automatically injected into the animal or human body due to air pressure.

When Cesar heard from Haredi that he had used toad venom, he was even less surprised. Compared to the toad venom, what concerned him most was Haredi's ability to create such a thin and sturdy hollow needle and the device for firing this special crossbow bolt—so many things require small and sturdy parts.

Even in this era, where no monarchs could foresee the future, and who might only value the crown and scepter crafted by Haredi, Cesar dared not take the risk. Even though Haredi was innocent, he could not let Haredi out of his sight or out of his control.

"Is there anything special about that Isaac?" Geoffroy asked with interest.

“He is the man from the Battle of the Sea of ​​Galilee,” Cesar said, and Jofroy immediately understood.

Although Baldwin was still a young king, he did not have the habit of embellishing his throne with the achievements of his subordinates. He highly praised and thanked Philip, the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, and also mentioned an Isaac who had made great contributions. Moreover, the cave mentioned by the other party did indeed contain a large number of ancient books that even Patriarch Heraclius could not help but be dazzled by. The knights certainly did not care about this, but the Church would certainly be willing to spend a lot of money to buy them.

As for whether it will be destroyed or enshrined afterward, it's hard to say.

"But it seems that guy doesn't know what's good for him."

"So we need to keep a close eye on him."

“You seem a little distracted.” Geoffroy could be very perceptive at times.

“Because…because I’m thinking,” Cesarton paused, “I want to go out and see.”

"have a look?"

"This is Damascus."

When they were in Bielebais, the city was not completely destroyed, but they entered as conquerors, and the inhabitants were full of wariness and fear towards them. As it turned out, their fears were not wrong. Later, although he and Baldwin traveled to many places as observers, they found almost nothing of value; everything was either destroyed or looted.

As for Foster, there's no need to say more.

Now, in Damascus, as "guests"—let's call them that for now—as bystanders, they may be able to see a real Saracen city.

"Then, together?" As expected, Jofroy did not object. They went together to explain their intentions to Kamal—mainly to avoid being seen as spies by the Saracens. Then, guided by the two local guides provided by Kamal, they changed into Saracen clothes and stepped into the streets of Damascus.

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Kamal listened to his subordinate's report, nodded, and then released a pigeon.

The pigeon flapped its wings and shot straight into the sky like an arrow, then quickly turned into a black dot and disappeared from Kamal's sight.

It flew with all its might until dusk, when it folded its wings and landed on a terrace where a young eunuch was always on guard. Upon seeing it, he immediately took the pigeon in his hand, brought it back to the house, and carefully removed the copper tubes tied to its feet. He did not untie them—if he did, he would surely die—but immediately handed them over to another senior eunuch.

The chief eunuch glanced at the copper tube—something beyond his knowledge—and immediately sent it to another room. The First Lady's eunuch rose from the carpet, examined the wax seal, opened the tube, and presented it to his master.

The First Lady opened it, glanced at it, and showed a look of annoyance.

Just as she was about to give some instructions, she heard a loud shout from outside the door. A boy who looked to be only ten years old rushed in and hugged her tightly. He was Saleh, the youngest son of a concubine whom the First Lady had allowed to marry.

"What is this?" he asked, noticing the small piece of paper the First Lady was holding in her hand.

“It’s nothing… Kamal wants to kill Damascus’s agent, so be it, he’s just a Kurdish bastard,” the First Lady said nonchalantly.

“And this one?” Saleh pointed to another slip of paper lying to the side. He reached out to touch it, but the First Lady stopped him. “It’s a small matter too.”

She said that she then picked up the note and burned it on the lamp that the eunuch had brought in time.

(End of this chapter)