kingdom of nations

Chapter 226 The Followers (Part 1)

For César, meeting a woman like Portia was already a comforting surprise. As for Portia's promise of a gift—he did have a little expectation… What would she give him? A flower, a little bird, or a book?

Given that Portia had already admitted that he was not good at needlework, he did not expect to get a cloak or robe from her.

He remembered the large handkerchief that Damara had given him at the Castle of the Holy Cross. Although the true significance of the handkerchief lay in the map hidden in the embroidery, Damara had meticulously embroidered it for a long time. Even now, the prince still remembered the handkerchief vividly. He had even complained to Cesar that since then, his room had rarely seen colorful and intricately patterned tapestries.

He did not notice that Portia mentioned her grandfather Dandolo twice during their conversation.

Dandolo was born in 1107, and was already over seventy years old at this time. To people of that era, he was an old man nearing the end of his life, and both friends and enemies would subconsciously assume that he had entered his twilight years and could pass away at any moment, so there was no need to care about him or pay attention to him.

But is that really the case?

Most of the Venetians who came with Portia were her uncles, the Doge's confidants, but some were her grandfather Dandolo's cronies. They obeyed Dandolo's will completely, that is, they followed Portia's orders, no matter how absurd the orders sounded.

The incident erupted the following morning, but even after the whole matter was resolved, no one could say what the original cause of the conflict was.

Was it for a basket of fresh olives? Or perhaps for a cluster of roses glistening with morning dew, or a nimble pony—or maybe a pretty girl? In any case, at the market, the servants of a Byzantine princess clashed with the priests attending the niece of the Pope.

The relationship between the East and West churches was once quite tense, to the point that the leaders of both sides expelled each other from their churches and regarded each other and their followers as heretics deserving of hell. It has only eased slightly in recent years, but the mutual contempt and hatred between them still exist, to the point that when they quarrel over something, they can utter even the crudest and sharpest words.

The priests in Rome loudly proclaimed that the princesses of the Byzantine Empire were the product of promiscuity, impure witches. This was true, after all, everyone knew that the so-called nieces were the indisputable fact that Manuel I, after becoming the final victor, had taken all the wives and daughters of his brothers.

Byzantine officials made no attempt to conceal their comparison of the Pope's niece to a bastard who crawled out from under the sacred white robes—well, that was certainly true. In fact, the Pope's niece might not have been as blood-related as the Emperor's niece. The Emperor's "niece's" mother was at least a noblewoman in purple robes, while most of the Pope's mistresses were prostitutes...

But after hearing this, both sides became even more agitated.

At the height of the argument, a Venetian nobleman happened to pass by and presumptuously stepped forward to try and calm the dispute down—the Gerard family members were still hanging on the wooden frame, and the lord had already shown the people here through his words and actions that he would not change his opinion of criminals based on their gender, age, status, identity, or even their beliefs.

He probably meant well.

Unexpectedly, his "ownership" attitude aroused the resentment of both sides. The two-faced nature of the Venetians had long displeased the Roman Catholic Church and the Byzantine Empire. The former called him a shameless traitor, and the latter called him a heretic with ulterior motives.

Now, it's a three-way situation, not just the original two parties, that's been drawn into the vortex.

Worse still, as the crowd grew denser and the arguments grew louder, with everyone's emotions boiling like magma, ready to erupt at any moment, a Byzantine official suddenly screamed and collapsed to the ground, stabbed in the abdomen. People immediately began searching for the killer, but the culprit had already slipped into the crowd and escaped.

And this unfortunate fellow finally ignited the powder keg. The three groups immediately began fighting each other in the square.

Some people might still retain a degree of rationality, but when the opponent's sword is about to strike you, you can't just stand there and wait to die—in short, this calamity came swiftly and inexplicably. Fortunately, the governor's palace wasn't far away, and Cesare's knights and soldiers immediately rushed out from the side door, dispersed the crowd, and then arrested everyone present who was still holding swords, whether they were victims forced to fight back, perpetrators, or both.

Behind them came the priests from the cathedral and the monks and knights of the Knights Templar. Their arrival was just in time, and the conflict ultimately did not result in any irreversible consequences.

Only two people lost their arms, and another person will probably be crippled for life.

-

“Our lord is very angry.”

“That’s inevitable,” a Cypriot said. “During this time, even the most unruly noblemen have quieted down and become well-behaved—the brothels are deserted, the arena is empty, and even the taverns have lost a lot of business.”

After all, nobody wants to be one of those people dangling on a wooden frame.

"It's not just them. Even the Templars have become much more restrained. They weren't like this in Acre, Arrassa, or Antioch... However, after seeing that he actually imprisoned the priests of the Roman Catholic Church along with officials of the Byzantine Empire, some people left Cyprus."

"You mean those wandering knights?"

"Not all of them are wandering knights; some are knights with surnames, families, and squires... They think he is not devout enough... But I think our new lord is indeed a fair and upright man. He may be a bit harsh, but it is all directed at sinners."

“For some people, not having privileges is just making them suffer,” his companion said.

Just then, he saw a Crusader knight walk in from outside the tavern, followed by a squire and two armed attendants.

The two Cypriots immediately focused on their meal, stopped talking, quickly paid the bill, and left with their friend.

The knight's squire glanced at them but paid them no heed. He helped his master sit down, removed his cloak and helmet, and placed the longsword within easy reach.

The knight asked the tavern owner for bread, olive oil, cheese, and roast lamb, not only for himself but also for his squires. Even the two armed servants who were tending his horses received a stew and a jug of light wine, ensuring they would have a good meal.

When the food was served, they ate and drank heartily to satisfy their empty stomachs before they began to speak. "You've heard, haven't you?" the squire asked worriedly. "The young count doesn't seem to be as devout as people say. Are you still going to follow him? Although you were once his grandfather's servant, you served as a slave to the Saracens for several years after the fall of Edessa, and then fought for him for over a decade. That's enough to repay that kindness."

Not to mention, you have killed more than a dozen Saracens, fulfilled your oath to God, and triumphed over countless knights.

You've been away from your homeland for decades, and you're now this old. Even if you withdraw from the Crusades and return to your castle, no one can criticize you.

(End of this chapter)