kingdom of nations

Chapter 234 The Vineyard

It was a hot and humid night.

The last consummation ceremony was cruel, sorrowful, bitter, and tragic. Not only the parties involved, but even the witnesses were reluctant to recall it.

Tonight, after the newlyweds entered the room and stepped onto the bed, King Baldwin IV of Arrassal and Patriarch Heraclius covered them with the sheets. After a short while, they signaled to the other witnesses in the room to leave with them, leaving the honey-filled nest to Cesar and Portia.

Since arriving here, Cesar has not thought about the past for a long time—the moment he realized he could never go back, he prepared to use all his will and strength to fight against this cruel and desolate world.

But tonight, he suddenly remembered something from a long time ago. Back then, he was a student, and at the invitation of a classmate, he came to a Gobi Desert that was also ruled by the scorching sun and sand, but it was not barren.

Between the cream-colored houses stretched endless vineyards—it was harvest season, the vines were lush and laden with fruit. Led by their classmates, the children, like three- or five-year-old mischievous kids, jumped naked into the clear canal and drifted freely along the gray-white waterway.

He fell into the canal, and the water immediately and gently lifted him up.

At first, they were slightly chilly, but they quickly warmed up.

The water ripples were so smooth, yet so playful.

He opened his eyes, expecting to see blinding sunlight, but instead saw only dense, layered, almost blackish-green leaves and delicate, translucent tendrils covering the canal. Each leaf trembled and leaped, and light shone through their gaps like scattered gold.

The wind was blowing through them, and he longed to reach out through the branches and leaves to pick the sweet fruit that was appearing and disappearing, but in the next instant, he was swept away by the current again, causing him to cry out in disappointment and frustration.

But in the next moment, the canal water lifted him up again, lifting him towards those purplish-red fruits, each one plump and sweet. He put them in his mouth, letting the sweet juice flow through his mouth and all over his body.

The grapevines leaned down towards him, their vines, leaves, and fruits forming a dense and vast net that covered the sky and earth. Yet he felt no fear—he welcomed them joyfully, opening his arms as if he too had become a grapevine growing wildly under the scorching sun, stretching towards the sky and probing into the ground.

They fused together tightly, intertwined and grasping at each other, with countless tiny flowers blooming on their bodies, releasing fragrance and flowing nectar.

Finally, the two fell from the sky, the stars shining in their eyes, and finally returned to the peaceful night.

-----

The events of their last wedding night left everyone shaken. This time, the protagonists of the wedding were Venetians instead of Byzantines—they simply excluded all Cypriots. The only witnesses were the King, ministers, and members of the Knights of Arrassa. By the way, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch was also present, but even though he was smiling, there was still a hint of gloom and strangeness on his face.

The venue for all ceremonies was changed from the Cathedral of St. Lazarus to the Governor's Palace.

The Governor's Palace is now arguably the safest place on the entire island. Ninety percent of its guards are Cesare's knights, his sister, and his most loyal servant Longinus. Although Longinus also came to Cyprus last time, he did not yet have a title. Although he could attend the ceremony, he could not be a witness. He only arrived after the incident.

This time, he was even more prepared. No matter how others criticized or belittled him, he would stand guard outside the bridal chamber. The knights of the three major knightly orders were also on high alert. What had happened before had dealt them a heavy blow—to both their dignity and their interests.

Even though the marriage partner was a Venetian, they were extremely cautious—after all, Manuel I of Constantinople and Alexander III of Rome would never be willing to bless this marriage.

“Perhaps we could go for a walk in the courtyard,” Chirac said, glaring at Baldwin. “Don’t stand there so stiffly outside the door. Cesar will definitely feel embarrassed if he finds out.”

"You know what kind of person he is."

“Sometimes he’s shyer than a girl raised in a convent,” Baldwin complained. You see, among twelve- or thirteen-year-olds, there’s an endless amount of competition, curiosity, and various contests about physical development—don’t think a knight’s son won’t be able to talk as far as he wants…

But no matter how David, William, Guy and others provoked him, Cesar always held firm to his bottom line and never compromised.

Even Baldwin couldn't walk around in front of him too freely, unless it was for applying medicine or checking wounds.

Baldwin thought back carefully and realized that he had seen Cesar naked—even just his upper body—only a few times. "He should... be able to."

"Please stop worrying about this. You're not his mother."

Heraclius said in a rather unfriendly tone, “The Templar Geoffrey, and yours—Belion of Ibelin, and I… have all taught him, and he and Portia are still very young. If they don’t succeed the first time, they can try again, ten times, dozens of times… With more effort, they will eventually succeed.”

"I plan to launch an expedition next June. I wonder if Cesar can get his wife pregnant before then." Before the war, a wife's pregnancy is probably the thing that would make a husband happiest, after all, no one can guarantee that they will come back alive from the battlefield.

“God will bless them and everything will go well,” Chirac said. “But Portia is already seventeen, so they will probably have children soon.”

"Can I bring him to Holy Cross Castle once he has a child?"

Baldwin immediately became excited at this point, as he had long hoped to be able to look after Cesar's children.

Chirac rubbed his temples. Perhaps it would be possible without Hibler, but the problem was that Cesar had been proven to be the eldest son of Josephine III, Earl of Edessa, meaning he was Baldwin's cousin, and his son was a potential heir to Baldwin.

But according to law and tradition, the people of Arazarus would certainly prefer that the heir be the son of Princess Hibil and the son of the Grand Duke of Antioch. But at this time, he did not want to mention Hibil.

Hibern was quite composed when she was in Nalazar, having just been expelled from Arazare and giving birth. Perhaps she thought that her arguments with Baldwin would, like all the others, be erased by the wind, just like footprints in the sand.

When Princess Anna arrived at Holy Cross Castle, Baldwin seemed to finally let go of his resentment and allowed her to return to Holy Cross Castle as the king's only sister to welcome the emperor's daughter.

But her triumph didn't last long. Not long after Baldwin took power, she had a big argument with Baldwin about what position Abi should have in the subsequent expeditionary force... so she was sent back to Nareza.

Opinions on this matter vary widely.

Heraclius speculated that Baldwin might have been influenced by Cesar—everyone said Cesar was good-natured, but his teacher didn't think so.

But it's also possible that Baldwin's personality had already gone to extremes the year he contracted leprosy; he could be extremely tolerant of someone he loved, and was willing to give them any kind of power.

He hates someone so much that the mere thought of him still being alive makes him feel incredibly annoyed.

Princess Hibil was caught in the middle of these two extremes. Before she could completely extinguish the last vestiges of affection and hope the king had left, the best Baldwin could think of was to send her far away to avoid being influenced by her again.

Now Heraclius could only pray that Portia wouldn't have a son before Hilbil. Knowing Baldwin's temper, he would definitely take the child to Holy Cross Castle, which would not only drive Hilbil mad, but even Abigail's father Bohemond would probably not let it go.

This is not a good thing for that innocent toddler.

If he were to die prematurely in the Castle of the Holy Cross, the relationship between Baldwin and Cesar would be affected—but after thinking about it, Heracli decided not to object. Even if Portia was exceptionally gifted and could have a child on their wedding night, it would still take a year for the child to be born, and at least three years for the child to grow up enough to be separated from its mother and brought to the Castle of the Holy Cross.

Hopefully, by then Baldwin will be more mature and perhaps he will abandon this far-fetched idea without needing Chirac's persuasion.

Heraclius couldn't bear to see Baldwin looking so worried, so he practically dragged him all the way to the Governor's Palace.

Cities in this era had curfews. Generally, after the church bells rang for night prayers, residents would return to their houses, shops would close, and only patrolling soldiers would walk the streets.

But to celebrate the Cypriot lord's marriage, there will be a whole month of celebrations—no curfew, people can drink, play music and dance all night long, and there will be street performances and gladiatorial games, with hired bards and clowns also providing free shows.

Such a celebration should have been held at the first wedding, but unfortunately, Cesar "mourned" Princess Anna for seven days, and for the next three months, half of the Cypriot families were in mourning for their loved ones.

In such circumstances, it is impossible to hold any celebrations; the place is deathly still, and even on feast days and memorial days, there are only masses, prayers, and processions.

Now, there is finally a great opportunity to have fun. Whether they are native islanders or outsiders, everyone wants to indulge themselves.

At this moment, the Patriarch had already taken the cloak handed to him by his servants and covered himself and Baldwin's overly expensive robes to avoid causing panic among the people.

Four or five bonfires had been lit in the vast square, the largest of which illuminated almost half the sky. People sat around the bonfires, talking, laughing, playing instruments, singing and dancing. Some daring knights even leaped over the bonfires to show off their agility and bravery.

Such a scene did indeed attract Baldwin's attention—after all, he was still a young man.

When he saw a knight wearing a helmet and chainmail, leaping over a campfire that was three feet high, he couldn't help but exclaim in admiration. He reached out and grabbed his purse, only to realize that he hadn't brought his money pouch.

While the attendant was still fumbling with his belt, Baldwin casually took off a ring and tossed it to the knight. The knight glanced at it out of the corner of his eye and saw something shiny flying towards him. He nimbly raised his hand and caught it.

He held his hand up to his eyes, unfolded it, and laughed. He saw a group of people standing in the direction from which the ring had been thrown, led by two hooded, cloaked figures. Judging from their height and the attendants surrounding them, they were undoubtedly some important nobleman. So he accepted the gift without hesitation, bowing deeply to them.

Finally, he opened his small purse, put the ring inside, and took out two silver coins. He turned around and said something to the people by the campfire—Baldwin vaguely heard him say that he had received such a large reward, so he decided to be generous and invite his friends to drink. Immediately, several people jumped out of the shadows, arm in arm, and walked happily toward a tavern not far away.

Baldwin kept watching them, and then he noticed something interesting.

“Look, teacher,” he said, “those people don’t all seem to be Christian knights.” Among them were not only knights dressed in chainmail and cloaks like the one in the cloak, but also Cypriots whose clothing still followed Byzantine traditions, so they were easily recognizable—they even spotted a Venetian.

He had been brought before Baldwin, so Baldwin remembered him.

“The people here aren’t afraid of the Crusaders,” Baldwin continued. Indeed, the crowd around the campfire was still roughly divided into several groups—a group of Crusaders, a group of Venetians, a group of Cypriots, and even a group of Isaacs…

But the distance between them is not very far. When a person, no matter where he comes from, comes out to show his skills, others will not hesitate to laugh or applaud. If he is truly outstanding like that knight, there will be people like Baldwin who will throw coins or gifts.

In this era of scarcity, the knights did not feel humiliated, but rather proud.

(End of this chapter)