kingdom of nations

Chapter 211 A Timely Farewell (Two chapters combined)

The morning sea was always one of Costas' favorite sights: the vast sky, the clear sea breeze, the endless expanse of golden water dotted with white spots—perhaps seabirds or sails. But today, as he stood before the window again, he felt none of the usual joy and ease.

He heard arguing coming from another room.

Last night, after his earnest persuasion, his father and the Cypriot nobles who had gathered because of the Crown Prince finally abandoned their original plans and left the cathedral. Or rather, what truly convinced them were the witnesses who came out. If it were only the Crusaders, they could say that these heretics would not hesitate to lie to God, but there was also the Archbishop of Cyprus and several other Cypriot nobles.

They unanimously declared that the newlyweds had completed all the ceremonies and the marriage was officially concluded, meaning that from that moment on, Cyprus was no longer part of the Byzantine Empire, but now belonged to a Crusader knight, a follower of the Roman Catholic Church.

Before this, their attack on the cathedral could be seen as driving out foreign enemies; after the marriage was arranged, this act could only be called rebellion.

But they had already committed terrible crimes—given the Crusaders' past practices, Kostas' father's fears were not unfounded, and he and his companions were immediately filled with dread.

Fortunately, the woman who acted as an inside agent did not belong to Kostas's family—Kostas had already entertained a despicable thought, but what Kostas could think of, others could also think of.

His family had some blood ties to Theodosius III, the Byzantine emperor—though distant—but for this reason they had always enjoyed great prestige on the island of Cyprus, and the decision to cooperate with the eldest prince was made by his father.

But now, the greatest blame doesn't lie with him, which has aroused the discontent of many. They have besieged his father all night, some hoping he will take responsibility, while others believe they should regroup the army. If they proceed according to the original plan until the Frankish reinforcements arrive, perhaps they can storm the cathedral, and maybe then the situation will completely turn around.

They did try, but unfortunately, the most important figure in the army they hired, a Viking general, refused the Cypriots' offer. "Didn't you notice?"

He asked in surprise, “At least half of those Crusaders are blessed by God, and they are holding a fortress. We have no siege equipment, nor Greek fire. What do you want me to use to attack it? Our flesh and blood? Even if you offered us an equal amount of gold, we would not agree—because it is simply impossible.”

Some people believe that perhaps they could kneel before the new lord and beg for his forgiveness.

They say that when he was still a young squire, he spent forty-five days in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. People say that angels descended to earth to help him clean the church. When he finished his penance, nobles threw him jewels, clothes and relics, which he then gave away to the poor and pilgrims in Arazari.

Therefore, people called him the Little Saint, and he did many good deeds afterward, not only for Christians but also for the Saracens—we are Christians too.

Moreover, even if we did do something foolish at the instigation of others, it didn't lead to any too serious consequences. If that's the case, perhaps we can try to negotiate with him.

No matter how much money or slaves he wants, or silk, we can give it to him.

"But he already owns the whole of Cyprus."

These words immediately created a tense atmosphere. Indeed, Crusader knights seemed to prefer taking things personally rather than negotiating or trading.

"So what should we do?"

……

What could he do? Kostas listened to the snippets of conversation carried by the sea breeze from the room next door, his heart filled with frustration. If only he had known, even if it would displease the Crown Prince, he would have resolutely stopped the other party.

When they learned that Manuel I of the Byzantine Empire had married Princess Anna to the knight in gratitude for saving his life, with Cyprus as the dowry, they vaguely guessed that Manuel I might have already noticed the eldest prince's rebellious behavior.

After a crushing defeat, Manuel I lost his former spirit. Instead of leading the army in person, he adopted a strategy of using one enemy to defeat another. He did indeed push his eldest son, Alexius, and a group of Cypriots to the brink of despair. They did not believe they could stand up to the Crusaders, so their initial plan was to sabotage the marriage, seize the King of Arrassa and Patriarch Heraclius, and then negotiate with the Crusaders to sign a treaty. They had even agreed to cede some of their interests or guarantee the safety of the pilgrims in Cyprus.

The condition was that the Crusaders must abandon their idea of ​​seizing Cyprus.

They originally had an advantage, after all, the Crusaders might have been suspicious of the marriage, since even when fishing, they wouldn't throw in such a large bait. But they probably didn't expect that the eldest prince already had his own army in Cyprus, and Manuel I was preparing to use them to attack his own son.

But the reality is that no matter how perfect a plan is, it can be easily ruined by an idiot.

They are now in a dilemma. They cannot capture the cathedral, nor can they abandon Cyprus. If they leave Cyprus, where can they go? Even if they could take all their money and families, without an army and power, they would just be a flock of tender lambs.

"Think again," Kostas told himself. "There's always a way." He already had a vague idea, but turning that idea into reality presented another challenge—he simply couldn't meet the new masters of Cyprus.

If he walked straight to the cathedral like that, it would be strange if he didn't get shot by an arrow.

But if more crusaders arrive, they might not even have a chance to speak.

The noise coming from the other room grew louder and louder. Kostas felt annoyed, grabbed a hooded cloak and put it on, then went downstairs through a hidden passage, pushed open a small door on the side and went out. Across the courtyard was a small harbor with sparkling blue water and fine, white sand.

He took off his shoes and stepped into the water, feeling the coolness of the seawater. He hoped it would quickly take away his anxiety. Just then, his servant suddenly ran over, "Master! Master!" he whispered.

Kostas turned around with an unfriendly expression: "What is it?"

"It's Gita."

Gita is a captain under Kostas, a member of the caravan, and is loyal to Kostas and his family.

However, he wasn't in Cyprus last night; he went to Alexandria.

"Is he back?"

“He’s back, he came back early this morning, but he just came to me and said… Master, their ship rescued someone at sea, and this person is of high status and very special, so he must be brought here immediately…” “Then call him here,” Costas said. “I’m not the emperor of the Byzantine Empire, I don’t need to go through layers of bureaucracy.”

Upon hearing this, the servant immediately ran out, skipping and jumping, and soon brought Gita back in.

Gita, a dark-skinned middle-aged man, immediately gave a very quick bow upon seeing Costas, then leaned close to his young master's ear and said, "On our way back, our ship rescued a woman, a very beautiful woman, though she was nearing the end of her life..."

Kostas glared at him.
“I mean, she said she was one of Manuel I’s concubines, and when she heard we were Cypriots, she asked us to bring her here.”

Costas's first thought was that Geeta had been tricked. Shouldn't Manuel I's concubine be quietly staying in the Grand Palace in Constantinople?

How did it suddenly appear on the sea near Cyprus?

"She didn't drown? Were there any other boats around?"

“I was also puzzled, but when we rescued her, she was frozen stiff and nearly died. If you hadn’t insisted that I bring a monk along, she would surely have gone to meet God. She is still very weak…”

“Take me to see her.” Costas immediately interrupted him. He hurried with Gita to the dock. The woman had already been taken off the ship and placed in a small hut. The hut was dimly lit and unbearably hot, but as soon as Costas stepped inside, he felt a sudden light.

There were no low couches piled with velvet pillows in this kind of cabin, but the sailors still did their best to lay out a few mats woven from dried seaweed for her and rolled up a few blankets for her to lean against. She was indeed very beautiful, the most beautiful woman Kostas had ever seen. Her hair, wet like seaweed, was coiled around her forehead, behind her ears, and on her chest. Although her face was pale and her lips were bloodless, it only made her dark eyes and brows appear even more striking and endearing.

She was indeed wearing jewelry befitting a concubine. Although she only had a string of pearl earrings on her earlobes and a chain around her neck without a pendant, she wore a large gold bracelet on her wrist, which was inlaid with sapphires and rubies.

Nothing spoke more of her status than her wet, tattered purple silk robe. This shade of purple was almost exclusively reserved for noblewomen of Augusta's rank; Manuel I's favorite concubine, of course, could have owned several.

A clumsy maid was serving her water when she saw several people burst into the room. She immediately shrank back and hid to the side, while the woman remained very calm.

“This is Kostas, my master.”

The woman who claimed to be Manuel I's favorite concubine glanced at him and immediately guessed he was a nobleman from Cyprus. "Where are we now?" Larnaca, Theodora repeated, her eyes gleaming with hope. She knew the Cathedral of St. Lazarus was in Larnaca, meaning she was probably only a city away from her adopted daughter.

But recalling Manuel I's triumphant words, her heart immediately felt as if it were being clamped and twisted viciously, causing her unbearable pain. She unconsciously clutched her chest and asked anxiously, "Is the wedding over?"

"The wedding? You mean the wedding of Princess Anna of the Byzantine Empire and Count Eedsa?" Costas said. "It's over..."

Although he wasn't entirely sure how this favored concubine—if she really was, how could she have suddenly appeared here from Constantinople—he cautiously said, "The engagement is officially finalized. They are now the new masters of Cyprus." As he spoke, he carefully observed the woman's expression, only to see her immediately overjoyed. "Take me quickly," Theodora cried, "take me to see the princess—I...I have something very important to tell her, about the emperor."

Kostas stood up, a forced smile playing on his lips. Perhaps this was his and his family's only chance. Without hesitation, he removed his cloak, a simple garment woven from a blend of wool and silk, soft and delicate. "Please allow me..."

“I allow you,” Theodora said, then he wrapped her entirely in the cloak and lifted her up. “Gita,” he called, and the captain immediately followed, “go and get me a carriage.” Then he turned to the servant, “you go to my room… no, never mind, you stay with me.” He didn’t want his father or anyone else to know about this, lest it cause any trouble.

Who knows what outlandish ideas they might come up with?

Before the sun had reached its highest point, they had already arrived at the cathedral. To the left of the cathedral's entrance, a spear protruded from the city wall, its tip bearing a lone head. Although the blood on the face had been wiped clean and the hair neatly combed, Kostas still couldn't recognize the person, or rather, he dared not recognize him.

But Theodora beside him uttered the name: "Alexius."

She gave a smile that was a mixture of pity and hatred. It seemed that the eldest prince had indeed not deviated from the script his father had set for him. He had indeed put on a good show, just as Manuel I had predicted. He probably did not expect that he would be the first to take his final bow, rather than someone else.

But at the same time, she also thought that if the Crown Prince's head was hanging here, it meant that he might have done something. She grabbed Kostas beside her and asked, "Have you seen Anna?"

“I saw her,” Costas said, pointing to the window facing the square. “Last night, her husband appeared here carrying her.”

How does she look...?

Kostas had initially thought the eldest prince would be captured before he could succeed, but now it seemed things might not be as optimistic as he had anticipated. He felt a sense of fear and wondered if he should continue with his original plan. However, since they were already under the control of crossbows, he could only step forward and explain his purpose.

Who knows, perhaps in a little while, his head will also appear side by side with the eldest prince on the city wall.

But it's pointless to talk about it now. They were hoisted onto the city wall, and then Kostas had all his weapons confiscated. As for Theodora, a lady "escorted" by servants came out to greet her. She was the wife of a Byzantine official and recognized Theodora at a glance. After all, she was the most favored woman by Manuel I's side. Although she was also astonished and had no idea why Theodora would be here.

She even subconsciously looked outside, assuming that Manuel I had brought her there. But if that were the case, Theodora wouldn't be in such a sorry state now.

"So she really is Theodora, Princess Anna's foster mother?" the knight asked. The lady immediately nodded hastily.

Since Princess Anna's assassination, they had all been arrested. The group was trapped in a room, filled with fear and anxiety, but there was nothing they could do but pray.

"Then come with me, madam. Are you still able to walk?"

"Give me some wine," Theodora said. The knight quickly brought a small bottle, which Theodora drank in one gulp, and immediately felt her strength return.

When the other knights were about to take Kostas away, she hesitated for a moment, but still said, "It was his men who saved me, and it was he who brought me here."

“I understand, madam,” said the knight, pausing for a moment. “Would you like to change your clothes first?”

“No, no need,” Theodora asked dryly. “Please tell me first, how is Anna?”

“The Countess of Edsa is indeed not in good condition,” the knight said, and then he saw the lady stagger as if she were about to fall, and he quickly steadied her.

“Take me there,” Theodora said, her vision blurring, but she was determined to go on—she didn’t know… if Anna… if she didn’t see Anna one last time, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

The squire who had gone to deliver the message had received a definite answer from Cesar. The knight took Theodora directly to Cesar and Anna's room. As soon as Theodora stepped into the room, she saw Anna sleeping soundly on a low couch. She lay quietly in her husband's arms, her expression gentle, as if she were just taking a nap. But how could Theodora, who had seen so many dead people, not see it?
Her life force had almost completely dissipated.

Theodora rushed over, took her adopted daughter's hand and placed it against her chest. The hand was as cold as her own. She held the small hand tightly, as if trying to press Anna into her body. Although she was not Anna's mother, in their long years of mutual cuddling, they had developed a bond deeper than that of a biological mother and daughter. Besides, Anna was also her anchor. She released the little bird with its full plumage, fully believing that it could now be free and enjoy the petals, dew, and sunshine to its heart's content.

When I saw her again, her fur had turned dull and her body was stiff.

"Is it the eldest prince?" Although she had already guessed, Theodora still asked.

“It was him,” César replied. “It was my oversight.”

"It wasn't your negligence." Who could have imagined having such a hateful father and brother? Even in the power struggles of the Byzantine Empire, where men often fought to the death, they usually still felt some pity for their sisters and daughters.

But Manuel I and his eldest son Alexius were clearly the exception. Even to them, Anna was like a small animal; she never vied for power with them, nor was she instigated by others to try to harm them. She simply wanted to live like a human being.

But for those two beasts, such a tiny request was the most unforgivable sin.

So Manuel I arranged this marriage for her, so that her brother could punish her personally and see the despair and sorrow in her eyes.

Is there no hope left?

“She is badly injured.” Cesar concealed the cruel truth. Theodore stretched her hand across Anna’s face, neck, chest, and arms, then her hand gently rested on the girl’s abdomen. She could feel Cesar, who was sitting next to Anna, suddenly tremble slightly, and guessed what Alexius had done earlier.

Although the wound there had healed, and from the surface, even to the touch, there was not a trace of the cruel treatment she had suffered, she knew that the monks and priests were powerless to treat only a few types of injuries. Theodora pressed her lips tightly to the place that should have been bearing fruit and wept uncontrollably.

Anna personally impaled Alexius's head on a spear and watched the knights impale it on the city wall before fainting. She then fell into a near-conscious slumber, which Heraclius said was a good thing for her, freeing her from the pain of loss and displacement.

Theodora's cries woke her up; she opened her eyes, and her vision gradually cleared from its blurry state.

Theodora sprang from her body, her once rose-like petals trembling, her star-like eyes brimming with tears: "Anna, my child..."

Anna tried to smile, but even the slightest upward curve of her lips was barely visible. "Mama Theodora," she said. She didn't know how Theodora came to be, but she felt overjoyed. Strangely enough, the moment she woke up, the pain that had been lingering in her body disappeared. She was still weak, but her body was no longer heavy.

She knew she wasn't cured; this was the last ray of sunset's glow, or the last froth scattered on the water. Her eyes welled not with fear, but with joy. Thank God, thank the saints. She had imagined her end countless times. This wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either; she could die surrounded by those who loved her and those she loved.

(End of this chapter)