kingdom of nations

Chapter 265 Soaring Wings (Special thanks to Ironclad Alliance Leader, "The Stars Still Shine," for the extra chapter!)

“I promise you!” Baldwin said crisply, and seeing Cesar’s surprised face, he laughed heartily.

He laughed as he looked into his friend's eyes, those bright green eyes like new leaves in spring. "Do you think I would object? Stop you? I won't."

Nine years have passed since he first met César, and Baldwin still vividly remembers the scene when his father, Amalric I, pushed César in front of him.

At that time, Baldwin, who had already begun to repent for his past arrogance, had the first thought that if God had given this person such a beautiful face, he should not have left him with a leper, living in constant fear, and possibly even contracting the same disease, so that his beautiful face would be covered with spots and scars.

At that time, out of pity for a peer and fear of God, he refused Amalric I's offer. He would not have let him stay if César had not insisted on staying with him and said those words.

Baldwin was a proud man; he wouldn't feel that others were more unfortunate just because he was unfortunate himself. He wasn't that despicable.

But when did people's praise for Cesar stop being limited to his face? Was it when he gave alms to all the poor people of Arrassa Road? Or when he risked his life to save Count Étienne? Or when he dared to take three swords from the Templar Walter for the sake of an innocent life in a castle?
It is also possible that this happened after César led him out of the Cathedral of Santa Maria delle Grazie, preventing them from dying in a treacherous scheme, and after he received a favor no less than his own.
Or was it because he became Amalric I's entourage? Or because he and Amalric had killed a bear that tried to attack the Byzantine princess Mary when they welcomed her into the city? Or perhaps, more convincingly, because he, Richard, and Baldwin were among the first to scale the Saracen walls during the Egyptian campaign?
Everything that had happened before flashed through Baldwin's mind like a fleeting moment. He was filled with mixed emotions. His friends had grown up, and his appearance was still flawless. But what people talked about more was his piety, bravery, and loyalty.

The gaze fixed on him had shifted from his illusory appearance to his more precious soul.

When they were children, Baldwin was willing to set him free and let him live a peaceful life. Now, Baldwin is even less likely to stop his friend from climbing to higher skies.

“When my father, King Amalric I, brought you to me, he had some selfish motives,” he pressed Cesare’s hand to signal him not to interrupt him, “you were unconscious and had lost your memory. Even though your origins could be proven by your hands, feet, speech, and the knowledge you still possessed, he did not search for your family like a just king would.”

He... did it for me. He wasn't originally this kind of person, but I can't deny that he treated you, the son of a knight, as a slave, and allowed others to treat you the same way they would a slave.

I know why he did that—back then, even a mixed-race Isaac and Christian wouldn't have served me.

Although those guys got what they deserved, we all know that I was truly hopeless at that time. Even David and Abigail were strictly ordered by their father not to come near me again. Here he suddenly smiled again. "David definitely wanted to come back to me, but Abigail definitely wanted to avoid me like the plague."

If he finds out about your parents and your background, how could he possibly allow the son of a duke or earl to stay by my side and serve me?
Even if he forces you to do that, you will harbor resentment and might harm me at any time. He remembered the moment when César, after completing his penance in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, draped the white woolen cloth he had received from the church over him, and at that moment he felt only warmth and safety.

But for Amalric I, this was a bad omen. He suspected that Cesare had remembered something that led him to make such a dangerous decision—the king wanted to execute Cesare, but Baldwin managed to save him.

What a right decision he had made back then! Baldwin couldn't help but shudder slightly. If he had hesitated even a little, if he had felt even a hint of jealousy, Cesar would never be sitting across from him like this now.

For his own sake, Baldwin must also admit that he would feel incredibly safe if Cesar were by his side.

He believed that there were probably only two things in this world that would never leave him: leprosy and César.

But if César continues to stay by his side, even though he has regained his position as the heir to the Count of Edessa, he will still be looked down upon—some people in the Crusaders who hate César still refer to him as the Count of No Land.

He had to get César out, out of the Castle of Santa Cruz, out of the Arrassa Road, to a place where people could only look up to him, not look down upon him.

César was like a falcon that was captured and given to him when he was still very young. They trusted each other and understood each other. But no matter how exquisite the cage he built for the falcon, or how much fresh meat and water he shared with him, it could never compare to removing the shackles from his body and letting him soar into the sky, returning to the vast earth and sky.

With this in mind, his resolve hardened. "I support you, and I believe in you," Baldwin said.

“But if I go, I may not be able to stay by your side for a while. And the Assassins are still making frequent moves, which worries me.”

"I am no longer that child who could be exiled to a monastery to become a monk at any moment. Even if you don't believe me, don't you believe in the spear that St. George gave me?"
I will pray to St. George, that his grace may be with me, and that my spear may hum in warning of danger, for I have so many people with me—David, Berian, Adam, William Marshall, and that new Gian you recommended to me…

They are all trustworthy young men. After you leave, I will gather them by my tent and have them serve as my guards.

So, you can go without worry and don't need to worry about me.

"If you suffer misfortune, I will regret it for the rest of my life."

“But if I regret staying here because of you, it will be a great opportunity for me, for Allazan, and for the Crusaders. And it will not last long, after all, Saladin’s army is right before our eyes.”

Anyone who has ever fought a siege knows that the most terrifying thing is when the defenders' reinforcements arrive while they are attacking the castle. Therefore, the attacking side usually keeps a portion of its troops in order to ensure that it is not attacked from both sides.

Moreover, the general opposite him was Saladin, a seasoned commander who had been fighting the Crusaders for ten years, a new Sultan with such a large army. Anyone would be cautious in his presence.

Another problem facing the Crusaders was crossing the river.

Where to cross the river, when to cross the river, and how to cross the river are all very important questions. Basically, there aren't many places to choose from.

The Jordan River is not a gentle river. The word "Jordan" in Hebrew means "swiftly flowing water"—the Jordan River has a drop of about 5,000 feet, and its course is rugged and winding. Its water volume also changes abruptly and drastically with rainfall and snowmelt.

The narrowest point is on the north side of the Sea of ​​Galilee, a place like a throat. However, because the riverbank is so narrow, there is simply no place for more than 10,000 people to stand. Moreover, there are towering high grounds above. If the Saracens had arrived there in advance, their downward assault would have posed a great threat.

"It's also difficult for us to fight back, as there's only one steep path leading up to that spot."

An army of 13,000 men, even with 50 ships that can carry 40 men at a time, would still need a whole day to reach, not to mention their horses and baggage.

Crossing the river, whether it's vying for the bridgehead position with the defenders or being attacked during the crossing, will be an exceptionally fierce and difficult battle.

Continuing north along the map, beyond the narrow strip of land beside the Sea of ​​Galilee, you will see an incredibly flat area, the Hula Valley, about six to seven fares (25 kilometers) long and two fares (7 kilometers) wide. Here the Jordan River becomes gentler (compared to its upper reaches), and the silt it brings is deposited here to form swamps and plains. The water flow here is slow and shallow, but its width is certainly wider than that of the throat area.

When Cesar returned to Arrasa from Damascus, he was still somewhat confused, and the merchants did not take this route—because the Hula Valley was very dangerous at that time. They probably crossed the river further north and then climbed the highlands to head towards Arrasa.

“The reason Saladin has been controlling the army’s pace of advance is to make us act at his pace… He can’t be sure when or where we will cross the river, but he will be keeping a close watch on us and using his soldiers to threaten us.” Baldwin pondered, “Although they will also be crossing the river, they are in Saracen territory, and the Valley of Hula is not under our control.”

Although Cesar did not dampen the spirits of the generals in the tent who were calling for a fair and square confrontation with the Saracens, several other experienced generals had indeed warned him of this, and they had already factored this loss into their inevitable costs.

But Cesar had a different idea. They did want to cross the river, but who said they could only choose one place to cross?

He was unsure whether the laborers and knights he had taken with him could remain silent. But even if the Saracens discovered them, it wouldn't matter—two fords would force them to divide their forces.

But if Cesar's plan were followed, it would mean that he would have to lead about three hundred knights and a thousand laborers to the battlefield ahead of everyone else.

During this rugged and unfamiliar journey, they may encounter Saracens or bandits at any time.

But is this plan feasible? Yes, it is. Is it useful? Yes, it is.

If they could have an additional crossing point or bridge, it would mean that the Crusaders' mobility would be greatly improved, especially before the Saracens realized it.

Baldwin could almost picture it: as they were locked in a fierce battle, an elite force suddenly emerged from behind the Saracens, wielding spears and urging their horses onward, crashing into the Saracen ranks like a boulder, leaving them disoriented and thrown into disarray.

Meanwhile, the Crusaders who landed at this time were able to seize the opportunity to completely annihilate the enemies who came to intercept them. This was an invaluable move in terms of reducing losses and boosting morale.

“But… there should be no problem with the knights, but what about the laborers? Should we tell them the truth?” Baldwin was somewhat troubled. He trusted his knights and the good boys that Cesar had recruited.

Those knights were not frivolous, outspoken young men, nor would they betray intelligence under the influence of Saracens or others; otherwise, they would never have become Cesar's subordinates.

Among them were some elderly men left behind by Count Joseph II of Edessa, who had already been granted fiefs—some of whom had even brought their wives and children to Cyprus. In the Franks, they might only have one or two barren fields, a mill, a river, or a small forest.

But here, they can enjoy an entire estate, a large tract of land, or several shops, and their wives and children can live a very wealthy and leisurely life.

Moreover, this place is so close to the holy site that they can go on pilgrimage at any time, which is an irresistible condition for devout people.

But the laborers were almost all recruited from Yalasar and the surrounding areas. They were not hired, but were forced to perform labor. They could only receive their wages after the term of their labor service was over. People of this era were filled with fear and defensiveness towards everything outside.

Even in the camp, they only wanted to gather with familiar people, and some even stayed together from village to village. If Cesar was going to do such a dangerous and difficult thing, he certainly wouldn't need women and the elderly. He only needed capable, strong young men who could travel long distances. Would these laborers be willing to do that?
Even if they were whipped and forced to travel (not to mention whether Cesar would actually do that), their numbers would far exceed those of the knights, and Cesar and the other knights would always need to sleep. Even if they didn't jump up and fight back, they would run away—something that had often happened in past battles.

Just as Baldwin had feared, when the knights arrived at the laborers' camp and announced the news that a thousand men would be sent to make siege equipment, but not here but elsewhere, all the laborers remained silent. They looked at the knight with suspicion, and even though he was wearing a cloak with a yellow Allassava cross, proving that he was sent by the king, they did not give any response.

"One silver coin a day! One silver coin a day!" the knight shouted. "Alasan silver coins, newly minted! Is there no one willing to take them?"

He opened his purse and poured the glittering silver trinkets onto a wooden post in front of him. The alluring color made everyone dizzy with enchantment. A man in his thirties or forties wanted to step forward, but his companion behind him grabbed him. "Those are the things the devil uses to exchange for your soul," the other whispered. "You can't go. You have a wife and children at home."

"Sir, where is that place you're talking about?" someone asked疑惑地. "How long will it take us to walk? How long will we have to work?"

None of the knights could answer him. If he spoke, the merchants would immediately realize what the Crusaders wanted to do, and he couldn't be sure how long they would be gone. The Valley of Hula was still a blank slate for Christians; it remained under the control of the Saracens, or rather, nature, and not all of its inhabitants were necessarily devout Christians.

They also need to cut down trees to build boats and even pontoon bridges, and no one can say for sure when or where.

Indeed, some people were tempted by those silver coins. With this money, even if they died on the expedition, their descendants could escape the tragic fate that had lasted for hundreds of years.

His child might go to school and become a priest; or he might be taken in as a squire by a knight—if he could afford his own armor and mule; if not, he could buy land and become a wealthy farmer, or become an apprentice in a craftsman's workshop, an apprentice who comes with money. Of course, unlike those apprentices who are essentially sold into servitude, he would not only enjoy living conditions second only to his master, but would also learn real skills.

Their families would immediately be removed from their original social class.

But they also had doubts and hesitations. They had seen too many adults make promises and oaths, but when it came time to fulfill them, the adults would make excuses and delay, or even hang them up and whip them in a fit of rage, or arbitrarily accuse them of a crime. In those cases, their families would not be blessed, but rather suffer a disaster.

Even if these gentlemen were willing to pay in advance, the money might not actually belong to them. Once they're gone or dead, they could find a hundred or a thousand reasons to snatch these glittering little things back. "Then, may I act as guarantor?" As soon as the man finished speaking, the knight turned around and bowed respectfully to him.

At first, the laborers thought it was a lord approaching, but then one of them exclaimed joyfully, "It's the little saint!"

They surged forward, and the knights immediately tensed up. But Cesar simply gestured for them not to follow. Sure enough, when they were still three feet away from him, they stopped on their own. They took off their hats and pulled down their headscarves, and like sunflowers, they raised their heads in unison, looking at him with shining eyes and smiles on their faces, revealing their broken or blackened teeth.

They may still be young, but the hardships of life have already taken their toll. But the moment they see César, their previous dullness, irritability, and cunning vanish instantly, and they even forget their previous fatigue and worries.

Although they surged to Cesar's side, they still maintained a respectful distance. As Cesar moved forward, they quickly parted to the sides to avoid touching his sacred robes or hands—though they longed for the little saint's blessing, they could not—without his permission, they could not.

“I am the one who is doing this,” Cesar said. “Similarly, I cannot tell you how long this work will last, and I must also tell you that the journey and the place where we work are not very safe. We may indeed be attacked by the enemy—wherever it comes from. Some people may die, and some people may be injured.”

But I can vouch for it with my honor.

Before you leave, each of you will receive ten silver coins. This money will be delivered to your families by designated personnel. Afterwards, each person will receive one silver coin per day, including travel time.

"Does the time spent on the road count too?" someone exclaimed. That was a huge sum of money; there were a thousand of them.

Cesar nodded: "Yes, one silver coin per person per day, and we will provide food and mules."

Mules are certainly one of the most important assets in a large expeditionary force, but to do things perfectly, speed is absolutely essential.

"That's wonderful! My lord, when shall we depart?"

The knight who came to recruit laborers had a strange expression on his face. He must have just encountered silent resistance. It was resistance, it was definitely resistance. They treated him like air, or like an annoying thing, and completely ignored him. He was so angry that he couldn't speak.

Then, as soon as Cesar appeared, these people immediately transformed from a group of wild boars staring at you with their small eyes into docile puppies, barking as if afraid he wouldn't choose them.

Cesar's appearance solved the problem—though he was somewhat surprised. He then remained on the scene under the eager gaze of the crowd, watching the knights select the people he needed one by one.

Carpenters and stonemasons were of course the top choices. But he couldn't be too picky, since craftsmen were always valuable talents that every lord cherished. Even if they weren't as good as blacksmiths, they were still quite important in the army.

Next are those who once lived along the Jordan River, whether they were fishermen or farmers living by the lake. They were all skilled swimmers, and some could repair and build small boats. These boats could not go to sea, but they could still last for a while on the calm lake and river.

Later, César specifically requested single men because the departure of a husband or father could very likely cause the entire family to fall apart, a point that the laborers largely agreed with.

This statement, however, has also drawn criticism from some people: "Just because I am a father and a husband, does that mean I need more money to support my family?"

“You might die,” Cesar said patiently.

"As you said before, the deceased will receive a pension of three gold coins, and you will also give our wives and children every penny of the wages we saved. What else could I possibly worry about?"

Little sage, I beg you. For the sake of my poor wife and children, please take me in, please take me in! I am very strong; I can carry a millstone a hundred paces.

The husband and father's remarks caused a new uproar, with singles and married people arguing. They all felt they should follow the little saint and do his work, not just for money, but also because they believed that following the little saint was equivalent to working for God, and that even if they died, their souls would go directly to heaven and not fall into hell.

Even nobles might not have such an opportunity, let alone ordinary people like them who are so poor that they might not even be able to afford to attend a Mass.
A thousand people were selected in the blink of an eye. Some even rushed forward unwillingly, asking Cesar to give them more opportunities and more spots, even if they didn't want their wages.

This opened the eyes of the knights. They had indeed heard of Cesar's reputation as a little saint, but that was nine years ago. Apart from a few people making a joke about it, the title had been almost forgotten.

They hadn't expected that Cesar would have such prestige among the people. Even the King of Arrassa might not have received such support and trust here.

“This is practically Jesus Christ and his followers,” a knight blurted out, only to regret it as soon as the words left his mouth. Fortunately, apart from his squire, no one noticed that he had uttered such blasphemous words.

César's attitude was mild, but firm: a thousand men—this was the number he calculated a team could sustain for a long and fast march, even with mules to share the burden.

He watched as these people received the ten silver coins in an orderly fashion; no one impersonated anyone, and no one lied.

Generally, they would entrust the money to a friend or other trusted person to take it back to their home.

But here they turned around and came back to César, placing the coins, whether in leather bags, handkerchiefs, or carefully stored in boxes, at his feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Please return this money to our family," a carpenter prayed, clasping his hands together. "I don't trust anyone else."

"So how did you send your wages back?" Cesar really wanted to ask, but he held back, since it wasn't a difficult task for him.

“Alright, I will send the money back for you. All you need is a small squad of armed servants, led by a knight.” Moreover, these laborers are all registered, and their identities, origins, residences, and population are all clearly recorded, so the knight will not have to bother searching for them.

He also instructed the knight in charge of the matter to hand the money over to the laborers' families, not to the village steward or the priest—if he gave it to them, they might not keep it all—after all, the laborers were working for King Arazarus, but they would certainly pocket a portion, whether it was a handling tax or a piety tax; in any case, out of ten silver coins, they might end up with only five, or even three, in the hands of his family.

These people are likely to lose their lives in the work that follows, and Cesar simply cannot tolerate anyone taking away these blood-stained silver coins.

By the time these tasks were completed, the sun had moved from east to west, but the sky was still very bright, bright enough for the laborers to see each other's faces and eyes. At this point, someone lit a bonfire.

It was a bit early, after all, laborers were always very stingy, but no one stopped them. Just as Cesar got up to leave, a woman suddenly rushed out from the crowd. She staggered to a stop in front of Cesar, took two steps back, and knelt down.

It was only then that César realized she wasn't alone; she was with a young man, or rather, a boy. César couldn't determine his age, since for these lower-class people, faces were the least reliable thing.

A fourteen or fifteen-year-old child may have a face full of wrinkles, lost teeth, or even a hunched back.

"I...I...I and him...not long ago...just...just..."

Cesar raised his hand to signal the other woman to calm down before speaking; he was genuinely afraid this woman would choke him to death.

“Thoma and I got married just a few days ago…” the woman said, and perhaps noticing the surprise on Cesar’s face, two blushes appeared on his sallow face.

Their ages were clearly inappropriate, but it wasn't an old man and a young woman; rather, it was a young man and an old woman. The woman was at least twice the age of the boy, and the skin on her face and chest had horribly sagged, like the bright red fleshy growths hanging down the cheeks of a vulture, making it almost unbearable to look at a second time.

But for these people, this is a very common thing. To be honest, being able to get married is already considered lucky for the woman and the man. Most of the time, even the eldest son in a family will find it difficult to find a wife who suits him.

Moreover, although this woman's complexion was sallow, it was clear that she had large bones and strong hands and feet, and her husband could even be considered a lucky man.

"Please, please...bless us...and wish us to have...a child."

Cesar hesitated for a moment. He wouldn't refuse the request, even though he hadn't done it in a long time. He immediately unbuckled his wrist belt, took off his chainmail gloves, and casually washed his hands in the wooden basin brought by the newlyweds before placing his hands in front of them.

They knelt down respectfully, touched his hand with their foreheads, and then withdrew, satisfied. The bride's face was covered with tears.

As if nine years ago, a new scene began, with even more people coming to him for blessings. Thousands of laborers crowded around, each hoping to kiss the hem of César's robe or touch his fingers. But César raised his hands and said, "Wait a moment," and then, under the gaze of the crowd, he knelt on the ground and began to pray.

And as always before, the saint's grace descended upon him in an instant. He summoned the couple and blessed them again, and so did the others.

This was something the people had never imagined. Even though they had always praised the little saint, prayed for him, and even carved his name on wooden plaques to carry as amulets, the little saint was no longer the same little saint. He was no longer a commoner like them; he was now a count, and even the absolute monarch of Cyprus. They didn't quite understand these things, but they knew that he was a very, very powerful man, so powerful that they could hardly imagine it. Even the king often placed his seat next to him and treated him like a brother.

They felt honored that he was even there, something they would talk about for decades to come.

The brave newlyweds took the lead, asking Cesar to bless them, and Cesar granted their request, which was nothing short of a miracle for them.

If Cesar were not a flesh-and-blood person, but a stone statue or a bronze statue, they would have rushed forward to kiss him, touch him, hug him, and caress him desperately, not stopping until they had rubbed him until he was shiny and golden.

But at this moment, they could only desperately suppress their surging emotions and come forward one by one. Some of the more prestigious people even began to call on their friends to maintain order.

What happened next was even more unbelievable. Not only was the little saint willing to bless them, he even prayed to God and summoned saints and angels. Several people fainted silently. If they hadn't had friends and family around to wake them up immediately, they might have regretfully missed this opportunity.

If that's the case, they might regret it so much that they might commit suicide—after all, they're going to hell anyway.

At first, only the bride of the newlywed couple was crying, but now more and more people are weeping. Some are silently shedding tears, some are sobbing, and some are hysterical. They are trying their best not to disturb the little saint with their cries, but they can't stop the tears no matter what they do.

"Are we dreaming? Are we dreaming?" some people murmured to themselves, while others bit their fingers or tongues, but the stinging pain told them that it was real.

A saint came among them and generously shared his blessings with them.

He stood in the light, as if he were made of silver, with sunlight, moonlight and starlight taking turns resting on him, and he stroked people's foreheads one by one, just as a shepherd strokes his lambs.

This is what Baldwin and his ministers saw.

(End of this chapter)