kingdom of nations

Chapter 285 Broken Wings (3)

David looked up, but he saw nothing.

Before he could even look up, Bohemond had grabbed Raymond by the shoulder and dragged him away from the window.

“David!” his companions called out. The young men, seeing the king arrive, excitedly ushered him into the courtyard. Baldwin, who was talking to Cesar, turned around and raised his hand to David, as if asking why he hadn’t come along. David immediately put these minor doubts aside and hurried to catch up with them.

Seeing that David had caught up, Baldwin returned to the previous topic: "So, we'll have to wait another month, or even two months, to hear the good news."

"What good news?" David asked his companion in a low voice.

"The envoy from Cesar—from Cyprus—has arrived, bringing some supplies and letters..."

When Cesar left Cyprus, his wife Portia was already confirmed to be pregnant. David did some mental calculations and it seemed that it was indeed time for the child to be born.

David didn't have the same thoughts about the arrival of the child as his father, Raymond. He was happy for Cesar, but also felt a little envious—Cesar was the first among his peers to have a child.

Hiber and Abigay had been married for nearly three years, but Hiber's unborn child died before birth, and there was no further news of pregnancy after that.

As for David, he knew that his father, Raymond, was indeed looking for a marriage for him, but the Count of Tripoli was not satisfied with any of the candidates proposed.

As for why—David could vaguely guess a little—it's one thing for Baldwin; if a miracle hadn't happened to him, he might never have had a wife and children in his life. But Cesar, who wouldn't say he was extremely lucky?

He first received a marriage that was completely out of his reach because he saved the life of the Byzantine Emperor Manuel I—after all, Amalric I's wife was only the emperor's niece.

The princess's dowry was the entirety of Cyprus. Even after the terrible events that followed, thanks to the efforts of the witnesses and Princess Anna, Cesar still secured legal and religious support for Cyprus.

After his wife passed away, he had countless ladies to choose from. When he selected a Venetian woman, some people mocked him for being short-sighted. But they probably didn't expect that Dandolo of Venice would be willing to pay an entire fleet as dowry for this granddaughter.

Although César gave the Venetians various privileges and official positions in return, who can say that this deal wasn't worthwhile?
Countless people secretly regretted that if they had known Dandolo would love his granddaughter so much, they should have proposed to Portia first.

With these two outstanding examples before him, Raymond became much more selective when choosing a wife for David. He didn't care about the woman's age, appearance, or character; he only cared about how much dowry she could bring.
Gold coins could no longer satisfy him; what he longed for was a territory, a vast territory with impeccable ownership.

David was his only son, and with the new territory of Mersin, many nobles were willing to offer him roses. The problem was, none of them could match the status of Anna or Portia, so David's marriage was thus delayed.

However, David didn't care. Not to mention that even at sixty, men don't have to worry about not having a satisfactory marriage, there are many who remain unmarried for life and then enter a monastery or become armed monks.

He had no strong desire for marriage. He preferred hunting to chasing noble ladies. He was content with drinking with knights, jousting, and fighting Saracens. He needed nothing else to disturb his life.

Of course, he would still get married, since Tripoli and Melsin both needed an heir. "Is it a boy?" He couldn't help but quicken his pace, wanting to hear the answer from Baldwin and Cesar.

Or perhaps it's a girl? If it's a boy, he might have to hurry, since he also hopes his child can be a companion to César's children.

“No, we’ll have to wait…maybe until the end of September or the beginning of October,” Cesar replied. Baldwin scoffed. Although he was a man, he knew roughly that it took ten months for a woman to conceive and give birth. Before Cesar left Cyprus, the monk had already determined that the child was three months along. How come it hadn’t been born yet?

Is something wrong? Are you sick or cursed?
Hearing the king's words, the knights around him also showed signs of worry. Women who are pregnant and giving birth, no matter what torment or danger they suffer, cannot receive treatment from priests, because the scriptures have clearly stated that it is the sin and punishment that they, as Eve's offspring, must bear.

Therefore, for a pregnant woman and a new mother, the best thing is that everything is normal. Premature or delayed birth can cause all sorts of problems, ranging from a bad reputation to the death of the child and the mother.

“Thirty-seven to forty-two weeks is a normal number,” Cesar said, then realized he shouldn’t have known so much about it, so he had to explain: “I had seen records about this in the Saracen library before.”

Amidst a series of glances that seemed to elicit an "Oh!", he continued, "This year's Lent is March 20th. I set off on the fifth day of Lent, and I remember it clearly. At that time, the priests had already covered the crosses and icons with light purple veils."

Although a priest who had received the "blessing" swore that he heard the fetus's heartbeat—indeed, in most cases the fetal heartbeat is clear enough for instruments to hear, and it takes until about three months—Cesar asked the priest, and he said that, by the saint's grace, his hearing was much more acute than that of ordinary people. Based on this possibility, the child might even be only six to eight weeks old.

Portia had been bleeding a month earlier—likely early bleeding that occurred when the fetus was aborted.

So when he left Cyprus, the baby was probably only about two months old. While first-time mothers generally have shorter pregnancies, this isn't always the case.

If Portia is the exception, then it is possible for the child to be born in September, October, or even November.

“That’s fine too. You might be able to go back to Cyprus and see him born with your own eyes,” Baldwin said somewhat resentfully, although it wasn’t her husband’s obligation—marriage at that time wasn’t so tender. It was common for knights and lords to return home from war when their children were already walking. Even if they were in a castle, the more important thing was to “acknowledge” the child—a legacy of the ancient Romans.

They had just met the Cypriot envoys and thought Portia had finally given birth to an heir for Cesar, but they found that the envoys only brought letters from Cesar's sister Natia and his wife Portia, as well as some supplies.

The Cypriot supplies played a crucial role in the siege of Damascus. Even now, the sugar and salt inside remain highly sought-after items by knights, but that wasn't all; Natia also gave Cesar a surprise.

"Is it wine?"

David asked curiously. Even through the thick wooden planks and the shock-absorbing chaff, he could still smell a rich aroma of alcohol—he had never experienced such a heavy, almost tangible smell of alcohol before. It was like a knife, or a handful of fire, capable of slicing through one's nostrils and igniting a raging fire in one's chest.

“It’s purified spirits,” Cesar said. These distillation apparatuses were originally used by the Saracens to extract rose oil, but their prophet had warned them against drinking alcohol, so no one had ever thought of using them to extract a purer spirit.

At this time, although the Franks already had beer and wine, the Christians of today did not have the technology and equipment of the Saracens. The light liquor they usually drank as water was probably only three or four degrees, the wine might be around ten degrees, and the strongest liquor was only around twenty degrees.

After several attempts, Natia found that the sample Cesar had smelled and tasted was at least 80% or 90% perfect, which was close to success. The next step was simple, but Cesar did not tell Natia yet. Simply mix it with quicklime, and the quicklime will take away the water in the alcohol. After the former solidifies and precipitates, the alcohol content can reach 99% or even higher.

Next, simply mix it with three cans of alcohol and one can of purified water to obtain 75% alcohol, also known as medical alcohol.

Baldwin had already taken out one of the small jars, and thankfully Natia, following Cesar's instructions, had disguised it with some low-proof liquor, but that liquor should still be fifty or sixty proof.

“This seems a bit different from the light wine we usually drink.” David insisted on having a sip, and Cesar readily agreed, pouring him a shallow glass.

David took the drink and downed it in one gulp. He heard Cesar say, "Help him up." While David and those around him were wondering what was going on, there was a thud, and David was lying on the ground with his limbs spread wide open, unconscious.

Fortunately, the Saracens' halls had few tables and chairs, only carpets—they all sat on the floor. The craftsmen were busy converting the largest temple into a church and couldn't spare any manpower to make furniture for them. So David simply collapsed from his cross-legged position and lost consciousness.

The knight beside him hurriedly looked over in alarm, only to find that although his breathing was heavy, his eyes were closed, and his face was flushed, he was simply drunk.

They immediately licked their lips curiously, wanting a glass too, but Cesar refused, saying, "You don't want to sleep soundly all day, do you? I'll dilute it with a little wine and bring it to you to try."

Under their regretful gazes, Cesar put away all the jars of wine.

"Is this also a product that Cyprus will sell in the future?" One knight had already made the connection to Cypriot rock sugar—Cypriot wines are famous far and wide and are loved by lords and kings from all sides. Although he couldn't be sure about this spirit, he was sure there would be people who liked it too.

More importantly, this is a new thing. Like rock candy, many times the high-ranking officials and nobles are eager to possess something not because they like it so much, but because it is rare and unique.

"Perhaps," Cesar said vaguely. Alcohol could not be a commodity. Besides its exorbitant cost, its primary purpose was not to satisfy people's appetites, but to ward off infection.

On the battlefield, it was an extremely important strategic resource. Although there were priests, only lords, knights, or merchants who could afford the cost of their treatment could receive it.

Armed servants, artisans, and laborers, once injured or sick, could only rely on the most primitive methods—wood ash, moss, mud, their own tenacious vitality, and devout prayers—to seek God's mercy.

The effects of alcohol cannot be made public. Cesar dared to say that once he produced alcohol, the Church would immediately smear it as poison brought from hell by the devil, claiming that it caused the fall of mankind. On the contrary, its manufacturing process and usage would indeed make people think that the manufacturer was instigated by the devil. It requires a lot of food, pagan utensils, and the stinging and coldness that it would inevitably bring when splashed on a wound.

People who are injured are already in a state of anxiety and fear, and if some people stir things up a little, things can get out of control.

And selfishly speaking, Cesar would have preferred to use this precious alcohol on Baldwin's illness.

Although this is just a sample, it is unlikely that there will be mass production in the future. The raw materials may be sufficient, but the equipment and manpower will definitely be insufficient.

While he was lost in thought, the knights were already noisily deciding to hold a banquet. Although they regretted that they could not celebrate the fact that Cesar had an heir—the child had not yet been born—there were always plenty of excuses to hold a banquet, and they had decided to go hunting.

Baldwin summoned his servants, but the knights had already taken matters into their own hands, lifting David by his heavy limbs and carrying him back to his room. After instructing the servants to take good care of David, one of the knights hesitated for a moment, "Should we call Abigail?"

The others immediately wore strange, gloomy expressions. They looked down on Abigail from the bottom of their hearts, but they had to give his father, Bohemond, some face. After all, he was the Grand Duke of Antioch, one of the rulers of the four Christian kingdoms, and a minister in the Alassane court second only to Count Raymond of Tripoli.

Abigail was also a good friend of David, although David has rarely mentioned him lately.

“Let’s call out anyway.” The knight glanced at his companions. After all, they had all come from Holy Cross Castle and did not want to be seen as sycophants. But to their delight, the servant they had sent quickly ran back and excitedly told them that Abigail had already left the castle—he had taken the knights of Antioch to go hunting outside the city.

If it had been David, these young knights would have been furious, but since it was Abigail, they felt they had escaped a terrible ordeal.

"Do you know where they went?" the knight asked. The servant looked up and thought for a moment. "They probably went east."

The knight immediately decided, "Then we'll head west." They certainly didn't want to run into that unlucky coward.

Meanwhile, Abigail and his Antiochian knights had already traveled some distance, and his knights were trying to persuade him not to go too far. Although Damascus had already fallen into the hands of the Crusaders, it was still the territory of the Saracens and the Sel Turks, whose cavalry roamed freely and could appear anywhere at any time.

“Then we will defeat them, drive them away, and kill them,” Abigail said angrily. “What? You can’t do it? My father once boasted to me that you were his most loyal and valiant knights, but now you are constantly cowering and afraid to move forward, which makes me doubt whether you are worthy of the title.”

These words immediately ignited a raging fire of anger in the knights, but to their dismay, Abigail was indeed the man they were to serve, just like those knights who had followed the former Earl of Edessa, Joseph II, in his conquests, and who continued to fight for his honor even after Joseph II and his son had died in the Saracen prison. These knights were also old men who had followed Raymond (Bohemond's father), the son of William IX, Duke of Aquitaine, and the current Grand Duke of Antioch, Bohemond, was quite lenient towards them.

But such humiliation was truly unbearable. An older knight and his squire exchanged glances, intending to approach Abigail, knock him unconscious with a single chop, and take him back to Damascus. In any case, the Grand Prince Antioch would surely understand their predicament.

But before they could act, a swift horse suddenly galloped up. It was their scout, and before the knights could stop him, he shouted, "My lord, we have spotted a Saracen caravan!"

(End of this chapter)