kingdom of nations

Chapter 255 Disappointment
"No!" Chirac shouted.

He even felt a pang of regret that he shouldn't have discussed the matter with Baldwin in the chapel.

As those people said, Baldwin was a young man, and whether or not he was afflicted with a chronic illness, he could not possibly possess the composure or prudence that older people have. His thoughts were unusually unpredictable, and usually only Cesar could keep up with them.

To others, he was like a little horse that might suddenly turn tail at any moment.

Even though many people were lenient with him because of the favor he received and the regret he couldn't escape, even Heraclius couldn't withstand such occasional blows from him. The Patriarch felt as if his heart had been struck hard, his chest felt tight, and he had difficulty breathing.

“No,” he said again, “you cannot take the True Cross to the battlefield.”

Even when Amalric I went on his expedition to Egypt, he only took a few fragments with him, not the entire True Cross.

“I haven’t said anything yet, teacher.” Baldwin asked, somewhat confused. Looking at his innocent face, Heraclius felt even more dizzy. How could he not know Baldwin?

From a young age, he was a headstrong and stubborn little guy who contracted leprosy—it was only after suffering such a major setback that Baldwin became slightly more humble.

Heraclius had hoped that the seemingly calm and reserved Cesar could change him or become the reins to tame this mad horse, but he had given up on that hope after the Battle of the Sea of ​​Galilee.

César valued his king, his friends, and his brothers more than anyone else. He almost never contradicted Baldwin's opinions and sometimes even encouraged and cheered them on... Chiracló sadly discovered that he couldn't get angry at any of them.

“You can… take some fragments, and the reliquary…” which is the large, gilded, and jeweled cross, but the True Cross cannot. “I don’t want to curse you, nor do I want to say anything bad, but what if you lose, or win, but lose the True Cross?”

“The True Cross will not be lost,” Baldwin said without hesitation. “As long as I am here, as long as the Castle of the Holy Cross is here, as long as the Road to Arrassa and the Crusades are here, it will be here.”

Chirac was stunned, and then his face turned from white to red, and then from red to black. If Baldwin were still that nine-year-old prince, his bottom would definitely be in trouble today.

The Patriarch was reluctant to speak, but he still had to complain that Cesar had too much influence on Baldwin, for better or for worse. Cesar could act with impunity—he was, after all, just an earl, a lord, whose territory originally belonged to the Byzantine Empire, but Baldwin was different.

In this battle and in countless others that followed, the knights who traveled from afar fought for God, not for Him. Although the king of Arazarus would bestow gold, horses, and armor upon these knights during each expedition, it was primarily driven by the knights' yearning for paradise.

If it were merely a dispute between Frankish lords and Saracens over territory, they wouldn't have traveled so far. Even if they did come, they would certainly have demanded an exorbitant amount, which neither Baldwin I nor Baldwin IV could afford.

Therefore, in any case, the king of Arazarus must be the one most favored by God, and he should offer everything he has to God, from the country and the army to himself. Such disrespectful words should not be spoken by a guardian of the Holy Sepulchre.

Baldwin realized his oversight as soon as he spoke: “I will pray here all night, teacher,” he quickly said, “to seek God’s forgiveness.”

“You really should do some penance,” the Patriarch said vexedly—he wanted to rebuke Baldwin, who had undoubtedly committed the sin of arrogance, but when he saw Baldwin’s still somewhat childlike face, he couldn’t say anything.

Eighteen-year-old youths had already ascended to the highest position. Although Arazari was not as vast and prosperous as Frankish territory, it held a special place in the hearts of all Christians. No king dared to claim that he would necessarily ascend to heaven, but the kings of Arazari certainly would. They were guardians of the Holy Sepulchre and pilgrims, knights of God, and prepared saints.

If it weren't for those conspirators who committed such a heinous act against a nine-year-old child, Baldwin would be even more spirited and unrestrained now. Not to mention that at the age of fourteen, he accompanied his father on a campaign to Egypt, and in the siege of Faust, he was the first to scale the city walls, achieving numerous military exploits. Furthermore, in the subsequent Battle of the Sea of ​​Galilee, he led a few hundred men to break through the Saracen camp of tens of thousands, and even captured Sultan Nur ad-Din, a major threat to the Crusaders.

When Heraclius heard the news, even he thought it was a miracle—how could a mortal achieve such a glorious victory without angels accompanying him, shooting the pagans with arrows and protecting the knights with shields?

Not long ago, at the request of Byzantine Emperor Manuel I, he fought against Sultan Arslan II of the Seljuk Turks.

This was a true, fair battle, king against king, knight against warrior. They agreed on a time, designated a battlefield, and fought an honorable war. In such a battle, Baldwin still achieved an undisputed victory, not to mention that they later pulled Manuel I back from the brink of death.

Although César explained to Chiracio that this was a way to help the injured, it was particularly effective for those who collapsed due to drowning, suffocation, or extreme joy or anger, even without obvious external injuries.

But when Heraclius pressed him on where he had obtained this knowledge, he found it difficult to answer. After all, it would be centuries later before people could figure out the original principles behind this method.

Even if he wanted to claim it was based on the medical knowledge he had seen in Damascus and Aleppo, it wouldn't work. The Saracens' research on the internal organs of the human body had only reached the blood vessels and the heart for the time being.

“Perhaps this is another favor St. Jerome has bestowed upon you,” Heraclius told him, “just as you once created an ointment that could slow Baldwin’s illness. But as before, consider it a secret that must never be spoken of except on the verge of death.”

Heraclius certainly regarded Cesar as his own son, but he also had feelings for Baldwin, whom he had watched grow up. Regardless of which saint bestowed immeasurable favor upon Cesar without reservation, could he also say that Baldwin was also favored by God? Otherwise, why did Cesar not go to others but come to Baldwin's side instead?
Thinking of this, Heraclius could no longer bear to criticize him, and he left the chapel, leaving Baldwin alone. However, after only a moment, the door of the small chapel was pushed open, and Cesar walked in. Baldwin noticed that Cesar had a bearskin blanket draped over each of his arms, the kind they used when they were servants. It was clear that Cesar would also be praying with him all night.

"Did your teacher tell you that? You really don't need to accompany me. It was my own arrogance that led me to punish myself and pray for God's forgiveness."

“God is certainly willing to forgive you,” César replied naturally, “but as a member of the expedition, I also need to pray often.”

He then spread the two bearskin rugs in front of the altar. This was the small chapel of Holy Cross Castle, not the monastery's small church. They were not punished monks; one was the king of Arrassa, and the other was his most valued minister. Of course, no one would be watching them.

Neither Baldwin nor Cesar believed that God was the kind of being who would arbitrarily punish others for trivial matters.

In private conversations, they often marveled at the so-called methods for identifying witches, demons, and heretics—things like birthmarks, whether the bread they ate was leavened or unleavened, and whether the sign of the cross should be made from the left shoulder to the right or from the right shoulder to the left…

Does God really care about these things?

No, at least in César's words—he had read the Christian scriptures, the Isaac scriptures, and the Saracen scriptures.

In fact, if you remove all the excessive embellishments and biased interpretations, you will find that whether it is a saint, a prophet, or a messiah, they all say only one thing—live well.

The Isaacs sought a Messiah to save them so that they could end their life of wandering; Christianity arose in the Roman Empire because polytheism oppressed commoners and slaves too much; the Saracens had their prophets so that they could unite their scattered tribes.

These strange and strict rules are merely for the purpose of better distinguishing between friend and foe.

"sugar?"

Although dinner had already been prepared, Cesar brought a small bag of rock sugar after hearing that Baldwin was going to pray all night.

Baldwin's condition had been under his and Heraclius's care, but it had worsened due to the Sibyl affair—Heraclius and Cesar had spent considerable time and effort to barely manage to control it. However, all-night prayers were not considered particularly strenuous for the nobles. They couldn't kneel or prostrate themselves before the altar like sinners or ascetics; they could sit in chairs or lean against pillars.

Moreover, they could end this punishment and return to their rooms to rest during the morning prayers.

Baldwin didn't even see it as a punishment. With Cesar by his side, he could finally happily talk to his best friend about things he found interesting, or confide his troubles to him.

Cesar had been in Cyprus before, and although he knew that with his own territory, Cesar could not stay in Holy Cross Castle for long, he did feel lonely—Baldwin was still reluctant to leave when the priests came to open the door and come in to pray.

Whether it was the effect of the rock sugar or God's genuine compassion for this unfortunate young man, Baldwin remained energetic and even more excited and active than the night before, after such a night.

“You should go to sleep,” Cesar advised. “You’re only awake now because the most exhausting period is over… and you have to meet some knights today.”

"And I need to rest too." He said this, and Baldwin could only regretfully let him go. He had already arranged a room for Cesar, which was right below his own.

If Cesar were not the heir to the County of Edessa, the ministers would surely have been gossiping about it. But since he was also related to the king by blood—among the young knights, besides David and Abigail, he was indeed Baldwin's closest confidant.

He is qualified.

Baldwin returned to his room, and after losing Cesar's company, he finally felt a bit tired.

Before falling asleep, however, he mustered his strength—he remembered Heraclius and Cesar's request, and with the help of servants, he washed his body, face, and even hair—and changed into clean clothes.

But just as he was lying down comfortably, someone suddenly came to visit.

Baldwin tried his best not to show any obvious annoyance, but his attendants were secretly laughing to themselves. It wasn't that they dared to look down on a guest who could visit the king at this time, but rather that this man was really hard to respect.

Even without being told, everyone can probably guess who it is besides Abigail.
Baldwin sighed deeply. "Let him in."

After Abigail bowed to him, he casually waved his hand and said, “To make a long story short, I prayed to God all night yesterday for our victory and am about to rest. This afternoon I may have some knights to meet and discuss some important matters with your father and the Count of Tripoli, so there’s no need for euphemisms, no need for innuendos, or… shyness. Just tell me what you’ve come for.”

No matter what, you're still my sister's husband.

Abigail's face showed humiliation, but he had to speak up—he had kept it a secret from many people, including his father, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch, and Princess Hibernath—his wife. But he also knew he had to come. Perhaps some would laugh at his cowardice, but no one knew better than him.

If a person loses their life, everything they have gained is like a castle in the air or a mirage in the water—it all amounts to nothing. Don't we look at Amalric I, Sultan Nur ad-Din, and that unfortunate Caliph Atid?

How glorious they were in life, possessing palaces, castles, countless soldiers and servants, but what use was it?
With their deaths, all of this went to another person.

Hibler hoped he would achieve glory and honor on the battlefield, as did his father. But why didn't they consider this: even if he accomplished these things, what good would it do him if he lost his life?

Even if he had killed all the Saracens, it wouldn't change the fact that he was dead. People might mourn him, and the church might canonize him. But who can make a skeleton rise from its tomb, drink fine wine, eat and drink to its heart's content, and enjoy a warm and alluring body?

No, he didn't consider himself Jesus or anyone who could receive Jesus Christ's favor, and he didn't want to take the risk, for that simple reason.

So when he heard that some nobles, upon hearing about the Assassins, were considering retiring to the reserve or logistics teams, he had the same thought: even the Eagle's Nest assassins wouldn't assassinate those who were not valued at all.

In fact, if he could change his mind, he would prefer to stay on Arrasa Road.

Baldwin paused, staring at Abigail with some disbelief. Abigail was about the same age as David, and even a little younger.

Although Abigail displayed some unsavory traits even when he was just a child, he received the same education as Baldwin and David. Not to mention, his father went so far as to rebuild the cathedral of Antioch to ensure his selection. And he was indeed chosen. The favor he received, though not profound, was at least much better than that of an ordinary person.

His fear of assassins and even the battlefield was something Baldwin couldn't understand at all. Baldwin was almost laughing with anger. He spread his fingers, ran them through his hair, and then asked in an incredulous tone, "Do you know what you're saying, Abigail? I know you've been proclaiming to everyone that you will be the father of the new king of Arazarus, a regent, even a regent king. And now you're telling me you're afraid of death, that you're afraid to face your enemies, whether they are Assassins or other Saracens. Don't you understand?"
Once you and Hibir have a son, and I am certain he is my heir, then until he grows up to ride a horse and lead knights across the battlefield, there can only be one commander of the Crusades, and that is you.

You are to lead them into battle, and you are to lead them to victory.

Otherwise, do you think you'll continue to have the lords' support? Your father might, but what about Raymond, Berion, and all those other lords, big and small, and their knights?
I should be dead by then, so to whom will you plead, to your enemies?
Even I—before I met St. George and achieved my own merit on the battlefield—had many ministers and generals who advised my father to send me to a monastery—even though I was his only son at the time.

He might have a son with his later wife, or he might not, but he should entrust Alassa to a trustworthy knight, or his son-in-law, or his cousin.

This is Yalasa Road, not Frank.

The knights need a general, not a king.

It's impossible to say that Baldwin never considered making Hibil and Abigail's child his heir, given that he wasn't sure he'd live past thirty.

When Portia became pregnant, he was overjoyed, but he did not completely give up on Hibil. He even thought about bringing Hibil's child to Sainte Cross Castle to raise him himself.

Even if the child inherited the strengths of his parents—oh no, wait—grandparents, rather than their weaknesses, he might not necessarily favor Cesare's child entirely. After all, this is a country, a holy land, the spiritual capital of the Crusaders and all Christians.

To make someone incapable of shouldering this heavy responsibility the king of Arazarus is not a blessing, but murder.

Now he's even starting to doubt himself: should he really keep Sishil and Abigail's child on the shortlist?
Keep in mind that even if Hibern and Abigail were able to have a child immediately, he would only have a little over ten years left. If the child came any later, there was no doubt that his parents would have to take over the entire Arazari Road and the Crusades for him for five or six years, or even ten years.

He certainly believed in Cesare, but some of Cesare's practices were quite incompatible with the existing laws and rules of the Crusades, and he was unsure whether Cesare's ideas would be thwarted or even cause disputes on the road to Arathi.

As for Hibil and Abigail, their mediocrity might actually be a good thing, at least Bohemond is there to hold things together. Now, he is completely uncertain. Bohemond is the same age as his father. As a ruler, he might be able to hold on for another ten years or so, but as a knight, he could die on the battlefield at any time.

If Bohemond were to unfortunately die before Abigail and Hibern, given the abilities and mindset Hibern and Abigail have demonstrated so far, it's likely that Arazarus will descend into war rather than conflict.

(End of this chapter)