kingdom of nations

Chapter 194 The Ban on Laughter (Part 2)

Some people were enjoying the meal, while others had grown tired of the same old dishes. Along with the light music and dancing in the hall, the deacon in charge of foreign affairs didn't notice that his friend had drunk too much wine and was starting to feel dizzy, but another thought had become exceptionally clear, and his courage had also been amplified.

His gaze cut through the bustling crowd and landed on the dark-haired boy. "The way he uses his fork and spoon is so graceful," he murmured, almost to himself. "Is he really a Frank? Or perhaps the son of some emperor who has been lost to the world?"

Or was it his father, or his grandfather?

He turned to his friend. “Have you seen his father or grandfather? I mean the Count of Edessa. Do they resemble each other? He’s like a Byzantine, a born ruler.” He laughed. “At least partly. Do you remember any emperors with black hair?”
“I remember my history teacher once told me that Emperor Julian had black hair,” he muttered.

When people describe emperors, they rarely go into detail about their hair color. Generally, they record their height, voice, eyes, and even eyebrows, nose, and mouth, because these details reveal a person's character and preferences.

Hair color was rarely mentioned.

"Emperor Julian has black hair, but his eyes are gray, while that young knight's eyes are like emeralds. Do you remember any monarch whose eyes were green?"
I remember that Alastairus I had eyes of different colors. A scholar once described them as always being the most captivating, one as blue as the daytime sky and the other as black as a lake at night.

Perhaps he inherited it from his mother; he may have had a mother who was either Italian or Frankish.

His body was so tall and graceful that it reminded me of Constantine VII, with his snow-white skin and blue eyes. There was also a general, who had once been the queen's new husband, and he too had black eyes.

Oh dear, whatever you do, don't get involved with this man—his eyes are as small as a mole's, his beard is like a hyena's, his neck is like a turtle's, and his skin is like an Ethiopian's. He bears no resemblance to this child whatsoever, and even his black hair is unkempt and unpleasant.

They are two extremely opposing sides.

I am reminded of a respectable man of exceptional beauty and a well-proportioned figure. However, his hair was red, like the light emanating from the sun.

Is there anyone else?

He slumped there, muttering to himself, and at first his deacon friend didn’t realize that he had lost control of himself—he was talking to someone else about something more important.

When he turned to check on his friend, he only vaguely heard a few mumbled complaints. His expression changed drastically, and he immediately summoned two slaves to help the drunken official out of the hall. Of course, he didn't forget to stuff a thick, heavy piece of buffalo cheese into his friend's mouth to prevent him from continuing his incoherent ramblings.

He told the slaves to take him out of the hall and hand him over to his own servant. At this point, he hesitated slightly, unsure whether he should inform his servant or a friend's relative. But remembering all he had already said, he hardened his heart, turned his head away, and stopped paying attention to the other person.

Just as the steward had predicted, before the banquet was over, a eunuch secretly handed him a note informing him that his friend had been arrested.

He sat in his seat, his face ashen, hoping that his friend's overstepping of authority would not implicate him. But his thinking was far too naive. Having just suffered a crushing defeat, Manuel I was now in a position to rebuild his prestige, and he would not hesitate to use harsh punishments.

The following day, Baldwin and Cesar were again invited to the arena for the victory celebration. Clearly, Manuel I was still trying to portray this disheartening defeat as a victory—even if the evidence wasn't entirely conclusive—and thus the King of Arrassal was an essential guest.

Although they can only be considered as reinforcements, if they were hired by Manuel I, wouldn't the mercenaries' victory also be a victory for Manuel I?
In fact, they defeated Arslan II in a fair battle, leaving him routed and in disarray. Even though the emperor was on the run at the time, it did not prevent him from taking a part of that glory upon himself.

Early in the morning, they followed Manuel I to the arena, where he naturally had his own viewing terrace—connected to the Grand Palace by a passageway. This meant that Manuel I could walk directly from his palace to the arena via this passageway.

The arena was about 1,400 feet long and 500 feet wide. All the seats for the audience were paved with marble. The front seats were of course reserved for the high-ranking officials and nobles, but the tiered seating also ensured that the commoners sitting at the back could have a clear view of what was happening in the arena.

The arena was filled with statues of heroes, gods, and emperors, and purple and gold silks hung everywhere. Along the racetrack were sculptures of bronze racehorses and chariots, and at the northernmost end were four gilded bronze four-horse chariots.

The carriages will circle the central island in the opposite direction, where the bronze serpent column, the Obelisk of Obelisk, and the Obelisk of Constantine stand.

The show began with wild animals as a warm-up act. After the animal trainers guided the animals to perform various acts, the show turned into a bloody battle between the animals, with entrails flying everywhere. Baldwin subconsciously frowned at the scene.

Hunting is one of the essential lessons for every knight, but he still felt somewhat uncomfortable watching these colorful animals, forced to fight each other not for territory or food, but simply for humanity's thirst for blood and death.

Not to mention that gladiatorial combat even appeared later. Human duels had been abolished by Emperor Constantine the Great in 325 AD, but when humans want to break through certain laws or restrictions, they always find endless ways.

They no longer called this brutal performance a gladiatorial contest, but a duel. However, unlike gladiatorial contests between knights, they did not use the method of fighting on horseback. Instead, they wore simple armor and held round shields and short swords to fight to the death.

They were more unfortunate than the gladiators of ancient Rome. There was no concept of final pardon here. The audience would not give a thumbs-up to allow the wounded to regain their lives. They would simply watch silently and excitedly, waiting for one side to die, like a swarm of worms eagerly rushing into a pool of blood to suck it up.

This performance had already caused Baldwin to turn his head away and refuse to watch.

He didn't know that this was just a small appetizer.

In Heraclius's history and etiquette classes, he mentioned more than once a law prevalent in the Byzantine Empire. This law was established by Justinian I (527-565). After establishing the legal code, in order to maintain the dignity of the monarch, he included "disrespectful speech to the emperor" in the code's provisions.

This famous legal code explicitly states that anyone who dares to publicly ridicule or mock the emperor will be punished with deprivation of property, exile to a foreign land, or having their mouth gouged out and tongue cut out.

Heraclius once said that, from this point of view, the Byzantine Empire could not be the purest successor to ancient Rome. After all, the emperors of the ancient Roman Empire were, in essence, "princes" who were still subject to the constraints of the Senate and the legions. It was only from Constantine the Great onwards that the emperor became a true emperor, a representative of God on earth, and the dual core of religion and politics.

He even specially prepared coins, portraits, and ornaments (a brooch) for the two children to look at the image of the emperor on them.

Although every Christian king would have his face engraved on coins to familiarize his people with it, the image of the king was extremely rare in ornaments unless he had been canonized by the Roman Catholic Church.

In Byzantium, the image of the emperor was ubiquitous, not only on gold coins, but also in church murals, in stained glass icons, and in the ornaments of ministers and generals—who would wear brooches depicting the emperor on their hats and cloaks to demonstrate their loyalty to him.

With the emperor's image elevated to such a high position, this clause in the legal code established by Justinian the Great naturally rose in importance, and was revised and supplemented by several emperors.

By the end of the seventh century, this law had become so harsh as to be unbelievable.

This law uses words that should not easily appear in laws, such as "everything," "any," "all," and "all."

To put it simply, it means that any description of the emperor, whether in words, writing, poetry, scripts, or even just a few tunes hummed casually, could be considered a violation of this law.

The so-called public place is limited to having two spectators, which is considered a public place. What is even more ironic is that this law also includes informers as criminals who have violated the law.

Because if he wants to accuse someone, he must repeat what that person once said. Since he said it, he has committed a crime.

While public executions were commonplace in the Crusader states, Baldwin, influenced by Cesare, neither could temporarily prohibit them, nor would he encourage them—respect for life. This principle, which no one in this era would follow or preach, was deeply imprinted in his mind.

So when he saw the two prisoners being brought in, he felt no joy, only regret—he should have feigned illness and not come. Although he knew it was unlikely, after all, at the banquet the previous night, the emperor had repeatedly raised his glass, asking everyone to celebrate the victory over Arslan II with him—without Baldwin, where would this victory have come from?
In this grand celebration that manipulates public opinion and fools the people, he is an indispensable prop.

However, what happened next was so unbearable that even the usually ruthless and cold-blooded Templar Knights found it hard to watch.

Two young men, dressed only in rough linen robes, with bare limbs and feet, their hair disheveled, were dragged in front of the crowd. The iron chains around their waists clanged, and their occasional whimpers evoked pity.

They knelt beneath the emperor's terrace, watched by tens of thousands of people, as a richly dressed Grand Secretary (who was not a judge but could engage in some judicial activities with the emperor's permission) unfurled a thick parchment and loudly read out their crimes.

These two were the drunken wretch and his unfortunate steward friend. Although the steward had made some efforts, it was all in vain when the emperor was determined to establish his authority.

He raised a pale face, waiting for the Grand Secretary to finish reading his charges—that he and his friend had committed the crime of disrespecting the monarch.

As soon as the Privy Councilor finished speaking, the surrounding crowd erupted in excited shouts.

But as César had witnessed at the Castel Santa Croce, their cheers were hardly driven by a thirst for justice; rather, they were more eager to witness a bloody spectacle. And they were not disappointed. Two criminals were draped in "veils of shame" bearing the emperor's portrait, and then the executioner stepped forward, whip in hand, to deliver thirty lashes to each of them.

These thirty lashes were not struck on the back, buttocks, or thighs as was common among knights. Although nominally intended to reduce the possibility of death, they were more about prolonging the torture; the executor began whipping the prisoner from the shoulder blades.

There was only a thin layer of skin on their shoulder blades, and even the strongest men had little muscle covering them. A few lashes were enough to tear their skin and expose their bones. Their screams echoed throughout the arena, and could even be heard by people outside the arena.

This was only the beginning of a long period of torture.

Because their crimes were considered serious, they were also subject to two other forms of punishment. One was to brand the emperor's insignia (Manuel I's insignia was particularly large because he was riding a horse) onto their cheeks with a hot iron, signifying a crime that could never be washed away.

Afterwards, their tongues were cut off, so they could never utter blasphemous words again. Fortunately, the emperor at least granted their families the privilege of paying a ransom to have priests treat them, but it's hard to say whether this was to leave these two living examples as a warning, or out of mercy.

After such a bloody performance, Baldwin completely lost interest in watching any more shows.

He and Cesar sat on pins and needles in their seats, watching the lively horse racing and simulated battle performances below.

As Alexius said, there was indeed a performance simulating naval battle, with water being released. The performance lasted from dusk until night, with the dark water shimmering and reflecting the burning torches and sails, but neither of them could say for sure what they actually saw.

Nothing impressed them more than those two bloody, mangled faces and empty mouths.

(End of this chapter)