kingdom of nations

Chapter 290 Broken Wings (8)

"Bohemond..."

Bohemond had his back to the door, but he knew that very few people could enter this room without being announced: King Baldwin of Arrassa, Patriarch Heraclius, and Count Raymond of Tripoli.

He and Raymond had been together for forty years; in fact, they were closer than brothers. They had served as servants together, fought alongside the Saracens on the battlefield, served the king in his court, and their territories were adjacent, and they had helped each other in times of need.

But in Bohemond's mind, Raymond will always be a foolish hypocrite.

Perhaps this tradition dates back to his grandfather's generation. Raymond IV of Toulouse had the opportunity to claim the crown of Arrassarou, but to demonstrate his selflessness and piety, he gave it to Godfrey of Bouillon.

Of course, that's just his explanation.

In fact, it is well known that the Crusader knights of that time admired and loved Godfrey of Bouillon more. Godfrey was the only one in the entire Crusade who truly gave up his inheritable lands and titles to participate in the Crusades.

Others either had no land, had lost the king's favor, or had to hand over their land to their eldest son in advance due to marriage. Therefore, they had no choice but to travel thousands of miles from Frankish to the Holy Land in the name of God to seek a place to live.

Raymond IV of Toulouse probably never imagined that his actions, intended merely to boast, gain reputation, and accumulate political capital, would become a shackle imposed on his descendants.

Raymond always maintained a stern, upright, and unapproachable image—after all, Amalric I was not an easy king to deal with, and his son had indeed been poisoned by his ancestors, truly regarding himself as a saint.

Unfortunately, there was already a saint on Arrassa Road.

Whether out of genuine desire or a desire to regain the king's trust, David's imitation of Cesar was not well-received. In Baldwin's court, some considered it a pretense, while others thought he was overly obsequious, and few believed he was a genuinely good person.

Raymond walked over, and Bohemond was sitting down in front of Abigail's bed. Abigail had lost a lot of blood and was pale. The loss of his right arm was irreversible, but with the priest's treatment, he could at least continue to live.

However, the monk also said that the blood loss had caused him great harm, and he might have to stay in bed for a long time in the future, unable to live like a normal person. He even vaguely mentioned that this might affect his future offspring.

Of course, as hush money, Bohemond gave him a whole box of gold coins, but the monk probably didn't expect that the box of gold coins would soon be returned to its rightful owner, and as interest, he would also have to pay with his life.

Bohemond must never let anyone know that Abigail has lost the two most important things for a man—his ability on the battlefield and in bed.

He and Princess Hibil still have no children.

“Don’t be too sad,” he could feel Raymond’s hands on his shoulders. This gruff fellow had surprisingly softened his voice to comfort him. “He will get through this. It’s not like no knight has ever gone through something like this. In the end, he can still ride across the battlefield or find a suitable position in the court. He is, after all, your son and the brother-in-law of King Arrasal.”

Bohemond paused for a moment, then stood up, turned to Raymond, and took his hand. Bohemond was always eccentric and gloomy, perhaps because he was expelled from Antioch at a young age and later had to live under the oppression of his biological mother and stepfather for a long time.

This was the first time Raymond had ever seen him so heartbroken, so grief-stricken that he seemed unable to maintain the mask he always wore. He panicked and said, "Don't worry, don't worry, it's okay—Abigail still has you, still has me, still has David."

Bohemond wanted to laugh out loud, and he also wanted to curse, but no one could see the raging storm hidden beneath his expression and posture.

What right does Raymond have to say such things! What right does he have to pity him! To feign generosity and give him a promise!
He knew he had persuaded Raymond, but that didn't mean Raymond could ride roughshod over him and do whatever he wanted.

"You were a fool before, and you're still a fool now," Bohemond thought to himself, but he also knew that the fool had suddenly said such a thing against common sense because he had become complacent.

Why did Amalric I appoint Raymond as regent? And why did it lead to the marriage between Hibern and Abigail? It's simple: the best way to keep the beasts occupied is to drop a bloodied lamb between them.

While they tear each other apart for the delicious meat, those who would have been threatened by them remain unharmed, and his plan has almost succeeded.

If it weren't for Abigail's utter incompetence and Baldwin's and his servant's rapid rise to power—after a decade or so of struggle and infighting, he and Raymond should have grown old and exhausted, unable to control the next young King Arazarus—but reality always changes so abruptly and drastically.

Just as Bohemond hadn't expected, Abigail was able to escape unscathed under his protection during the most dangerous siege, only to have his arm severed by Assassins when they had captured Damascus and everything was about to return to normal.

Like Abigail, he simply couldn't believe that Cesar was truly powerless at the time—it was a woman! A woman couldn't possibly sense a saint and possess extraordinary power—no matter how many times she attacked, Cesar should have been able to protect Abigail.

He even maliciously speculated whether Cesar had long been in cahoots with this Assassin assassin, and whether his decision not to allow her to kill Abigail directly, but instead to take one of his arms, was a warning, retaliation, or demonstration.
Bohemond had to wonder—had Josephine III said anything to his knights, and what had those knights said to young Cesare? And his sister? Since the latter remembered so clearly the locations of the hidden treasures and birth certificates?

César once said that he lost his memories when he was nine years old due to a high fever.

But what if he does remember? Perhaps his memories are still fragmented and blurry. But one day, everything from the past will be presented to him like an open tapestry, complete and clear. That's for sure. He wants to make him feel pain, he wants to make him fear; he is torturing him.

“Okay.” This time he did not avoid Raymond’s outstretched hand, but shook it with him carefully.

“Yes, for Abigail, for David, for our son.” Raymond felt a sense of relief. He was still somewhat afraid of Bohemond. Of all the people he had grown up with, Bohemond was the one he feared the most, even more so than Amalric I, who later became king.

This is why he consistently refused Bohemond's repeated offers of cooperation. He felt he couldn't surpass Bohemond in scheming and intrigue, and like Bohemond, he only had one son. David was also too straightforward, and he dared not take the risk. But now the situation has changed, and Bohemond has no hope.

However, if Bohemond were to elevate his David, or even him, to the throne of Arathi Basin, he could still reserve a position for Bohemond in the court. In fact, it could be said that Bohemond could still be highly valued during his lifetime, and his son Abigail could also obtain a suitable position—for example, abbot of a monastery. It wouldn't be a pity for a knight who was no longer able to lift a sword to become a leisurely abbot.

Once Abigail's engagement to Hebil is dissolved, David can marry Hebil and thus solidify his claim to Arazarus. It would be a perfect, brilliant, and wonderful marriage.

Raymond left Abigail's room quickly. To most people, it was just an ordinary visit—David had stayed with Abigail for several nights. Little did they know that conspiracy, like mold, always grows in the most commonplace times and places.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Today, Baldwin, Cesar, and Patriarch Heraclius finally saw off the Saracen delegation. Just as Saladin had expected, Baldwin did not intend to make things difficult for them. After receiving a ransom of 100,000 gold coins, he released Emina and the rest of the entourage without hesitation. He even sent a team of knights to escort them out of Damascus and hand them over to another Saracen group waiting outside the city.

This incident truly gave Baldwin and Heraclius a fright, and now they somewhat understood why Cesar had included prohibitions against slaughter, looting, and rape in his requirements for knights.

In unfamiliar lands and cities, no one knows what they might encounter, but knights who are willing to abide by the law will take women, children, and merchants they have captured to Damascus to await trial and punishment.

A group that is not bound by any rules and is almost like a bandit group can only bring endless trouble.

In fact, even after Emina had left Damascus, some knights still said dismissively that it didn't matter if she had suffered humiliation and harm at the hands of Abigail, as long as the knights of Antioch could clean up the mess cleanly enough—for example, by killing them all and leaving them in the nearby wilderness, where wild beasts would naturally come to clean up the mess.

They seem to never realize that there are no secrets in this world, as long as some people are willing to investigate.

“But Your Majesty, and you, Cesar, you cannot treat the people of Damascus the way you treat the people of Cyprus,” Chiraclius said solemnly.

Baldwin and Cesar nodded together. They sat while Chiraclius stood with a small blackboard beside them. The scene was reminiscent of a few years ago when they were still being taught by Chiraclius in their room at Castel Santa Croce.

And Chiracio was indeed teaching a new course.

It was the capture of Damascus that surprised him.

This is the earthly paradise, the garden of humanity, which the Saracens praise. In the past few days, he has led a procession through the city in prayer, Mass, and processions, and has seen every part of the city. It can be said that the city is still intact, with only some damage on the edges, which makes it even more difficult for him to understand.

Needless to say, he then went to check the city's warehouses and water sources. Indeed, Damascus was not as wealthy as it had been a few years ago, but they had already been locked in a stalemate with the Crusaders for almost two months, and it was not impossible for them to hold out for another two months.

Why did those Saracens so easily relinquish sovereignty over the city? Was it because they saw their only reinforcement, Saladin, unable to control the Emirs and Fatahs after the assassination attempt by the Assadins, leading to their crushing defeat by the Crusaders? César certainly knew why Heraclius would say such a thing. Back then, in order to avenge his newlywed wife, Princess Anna, César had almost purged a third of the nobles in Cyprus. Even though he didn't affect too many commoners—merchants, artisans, and farmers—panic was inevitable.

His announcement of tax exemptions could be seen as an attempt to win people's hearts, which is understandable to everyone. After all, the Byzantines were still Christians and allies of the Crusaders.

But Damascus was different; the fact that the pagans were able to keep their lives was a blessing from God.

It's somewhat unbelievable that the king so generously allowed them to continue owning their property, houses, and land.

Although it was for things that originally belonged to them, the people of Damascus did give up all their savings, and some had to give up a portion of their possessions because they could not afford the ransom.

But for the Crusaders, this was far from enough; they could have had it all.

The rumors circulating in the streets were not entirely unfounded, especially since one of the three conditions put forward by the Damascus was that César should become the governor of Damascus—which meant that their share of the spoils of victory would be significantly reduced.

People kept coming to visit the king, hoping he would change his mind, much to Baldwin's dismay.

But no matter what, he will not give up Damascus.

If these people have any grievances, why don't they also become minor saints? I believe the Saracens of Damascus will include them on their shortlist.

Of course, such words could not be spoken aloud. If he did, even if he were the king, he would be beaten, especially by Heraclius's ruler, who would not let him off easily.

“The teacher is right,” Baldwin said. “We will not be exempt from taxes. Damascus is far richer than people imagine. Even if the people of Damascus seem to be bankrupt now, they must still have a backup plan.”

This is evident in the merchants—he is not referring to the Christian and Isaac merchants who came with the army, but rather those who had always traveled to and from Damascus. Although they were a mix of Christians, Isaacs, and Saracens, they were remarkably consistent in their attitude toward their new masters: utmost respect and utter submissiveness.

The gifts they brought were enough to cover the expenses of this expedition, and the money obtained from the Damascus was enough to make every foreign lord and knight who came to participate in the expedition bulge in their pockets, with gold coins almost overflowing, just like the smug Count Magig.

A lord is always very stingy, after all, money is needed everywhere in the territory, and they also have to pay taxes and tributes to the king.

But this time even he said he would personally arrange his eldest son's wedding and let him buy whatever he wanted—which shows that he has gained a lot from this battle.

"The English are leaving tomorrow, and we will go outside the city to see them off." Baldwin was referring to the English knights led by William Marshall, who had come at God's call—although relations between England and the Franks had not been very harmonious since the Duchess of Aquitaine remarried, they were indeed comrades who could entrust their backs to each other on the battlefield.

Baldwin was not stingy either. In addition to money, the horses, armor, and even the equipment of their servants were all replaced with a brand new set. William even received a silver-plated chainmail and a gold-plated helmet.

Not only that, he also received two fragments of the True Cross. One was a gift to him, which was carefully placed in a reliquary as a talisman and hung around William Marshall's neck.

The other piece was placed on his heart, to be taken back to London for Richard, though he didn't know if Richard was still in London or had gone to Aquitaine.

William could almost picture Richard staring at the fragment of the cross, feeling a mixture of frustration, relief, and longing, as if he were pounding his chest in despair.

Before he left, Richard had already surpassed him in height and shoulder width, growing into a small giant with golden-red hair. He fought for his mother and father, was invincible on the battlefield, and no nobleman could stand a chance against him.

However, he need not be too regretful. If nothing major happens in Arrasar, the young king will likely launch another expedition within three to five years.

At that time, given Henry II's deteriorating health, it was highly likely that his eldest son, Henry the Younger, would succeed him.

As Duke of Aquitaine, Richard would have ample time to serve God. At that time, William Marshall might even have the opportunity to accompany Richard on campaigns.

The journey that followed was almost entirely smooth sailing until they arrived in Acre and were about to board the ship when a knight spoke to him with some regret.

"Saint Jerome's apparition?"

William Marshall asked in astonishment.

"Isn't that right? On the very night we left Arrassa for Acre, the statue of the saint in St. Jerome's Abbey in Bethlehem suddenly started to glow."

After the light shone, people discovered stigmata on his hands, feet, and sides, from which blood flowed.

The knight glanced enviously into the distance; their ship had already left the harbor, and turning back was impossible. If he could, he would have loved to jump off the ship and swim back to Acre, racing all the way to Bethlehem.

"Is the saint you admire not Saint Jerome?"

"No, but sir, who can witness a holy relic with their own eyes? This opportunity may only come once in a lifetime." Despite saying this, the knight did not do anything crazy.

As William Marshall said, the saint he had been inspired by was not Saint Jerome. He crossed himself and returned to his cabin, while William Marshall frowned, trying to recall if any of the English knights who had come with him had been inspired by Saint Jerome.
Fortunately, no, otherwise he really would have had to ask the ship owner to turn back.

After all, both traditional law and canon law stipulate that if a saint is invoked by the knights and manifests himself, they must go to worship him, no matter how far away, how difficult, or how dangerous the journey may be.

In the past, some knights did indeed go into debt and had to sell their horses and armor; others encountered misfortune on their pilgrimage, disappearing or dying; and still others gained new insights after arriving at the site of the miracle and decided to abandon their original property and titles to become monks.

Of course, there were also some knights who, for various reasons—perhaps laziness, illness, war, or other reasons—were unable to go on pilgrimage, and they were punished quite severely.

They lost the power bestowed upon them by the saint, becoming ordinary people; moreover, they would suffer excommunication from the church.
If they were willing to purchase indulgences, or if a king or bishop intervened, they might be allowed to excommunicate themselves.

In other words, it involves long periods of fasting and spiritual practice, isolation from the world, and exile for twenty or thirty years.

In this way, they can at least still have contact with people and participate in various sacraments, and apart from suffering a little, there is nothing else to worry about.

But if the church were to issue an excommunication, things would become very bad.

A minor excommunication, or lesser excommunication, will prohibit them from participating in any sacraments and from having priests perform sacraments for them.

Being unable to participate in sacraments means that he has become a sinner. His office, inheritance rights and knighthood will be taken away, and he will become a commoner. His wife, children and other relatives will be guilty of sins and will need to buy indulgences.

He himself is destined for hell.

Even worse, the church may impose a severe excommunication.

The one who is executed is the one who truly loses everything.

At this time, people were closely connected with the Church, and from the moment they were born until the moment they entered the tomb, all marriages, contracts, documents, oral or written testimonies, identities, titles—once excommunicated, these would be declared invalid.

Not to mention performing sacraments, he even had to avoid crowds like a leper, and crowds had to avoid him.

Although he was alive, he was as good as dead, and he died a very tragic and unwilling death.

(End of this chapter)