kingdom of nations

Chapter 293 Broken Wings (11)

Like most people, Le Gao was very devout in his words and deeds—he never missed a single sacrament and prayed constantly; he was never stingy when offering burnt offerings; and when he witnessed miracles, he would tremble with emotion and shed tears. At least in that moment, he truly thought of giving everything to God.

But in reality, once his fervent emotions subsided and he returned to the mundane world, his first thought was still for himself.

To avoid any potential trouble, he poured the lake water, which was said to have been drawn from the place where Jesus Christ appeared, down the drain without hesitation. He had already written down the Hebrew inscription to ensure that there would be no mistakes when it was re-engraved.

Afterwards, he put the earthenware pot away and went to sleep, but he did not sleep well. Perhaps there were indeed angels watching over this sinner with condemnation. He woke up in the middle of the night, feeling cold all over, with sore limbs and a dizzy head.

Lego became worried and quickly took out some herbs from his satchel and put them in his mouth. He had bought these from traveling merchants or Saracens, and he didn't know how effective they were. So he knelt down before the cross and prayed sincerely, vowing that as soon as he returned to Nalissa, he would go to the synagogue to perform a penance sacrifice to atone for his sins.

Whether it was the effect of the herbs or the result of his sincere prayers, Le Gao fell asleep with a heavy heart, only to wake up feeling that the discomfort had completely passed.

The sun was shining brightly, and a warm breeze was blowing. "What a wonderful day," he said to himself, before hurrying off to visit his former friends and current enemies.

------

The same sunlight shone on Damascus. This time, only the King of Arrassa, Patriarch Heraclius, Bishop Andrei, and Knight Cesare of Bethlehem were heading to Bethlehem. They did not need to follow the large army, so their journey would be much faster.

As for the still somewhat unsettling Damascus, it was temporarily handed over to Count Raymond and his son David.

The current master of Bethlehem is Cesare, and Bishop Andre has no intention of interfering in his governance of Bethlehem. As the chief priest of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre, second only to the Grand Master, he has the right and obligation to ensure that no accidents occur at the holy sites in Bethlehem.

Moreover, he also had to officiate at his nephew's wedding.

Also returning with them was Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch. He was not looking for Saint Jerome, but he wanted to witness the miracle firsthand and then pray to the saint who might have already descended there for a miracle.

Everyone knew that his son Abigail had been in bad shape ever since he had his arm cut off by the Assassins.

He had a fever from time to time and would talk nonsense, claiming that the arm that had been buried in the ground was still on his body and that he was constantly in excruciating pain.

He asked people to take it away, but it never existed in the first place, so how could they possibly do that? The monk could only concoct some opium paste and mix it into milk for him to drink, which would allow him to barely get a short nap.

Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch could not be faked; anyone who saw him knew that he was heartbroken, and people could understand his previous sternness towards Abigail and his current tenderness—after all, he was still a father—that's what they all said.

Chirac turned his head and looked around; Damascus had gradually become a small dot in the distance.

His heart gradually calmed down. He cared more about his two children than about the ownership of Damascus: Baldwin, whom he had watched grow up, and Cesar, a student who seemed to have been brought to him by an angel.

He spurred his horse between the king and Cesar, and gently patted Pollax's neck, urging the black horse to go further away.

"I have something to say to César alone."

Baldwin could only ride over to speak with Gian. David should have been in Gian's place, but David had been left behind by his father. Raymond thought this was a very rare opportunity, after all, David's Melsin was also full of heretics, even making up most of the population—this reason was irrefutable—David felt regretful, but had no choice but to stay.

Gian, on the other hand, was heading back to marry Damara. He was in high spirits and beaming with smiles. If it weren't for the monks and priests always around him, he probably would have declared that Saint Jerome had come to bless him and Damara.

“I chose Saint Jerome,” Chirac said softly, looking at the young man, “because he shares some similarities with you.”

"What do they have in common?"

César knew, of course, that the saint he had perceived was not Saint Jerome. In fact, he never saw His face clearly, nor did He tell him His name. The vision he encountered was also difficult to associate with any saint—and that saint must have been a powerful figure.

Sometimes the people in the Holy City would jokingly mention that the favors Cesar had received far exceeded those shown by Saint Jerome in the past.

The saints that knights and priests encounter are mostly related to their original identities or experiences, such as a king or the king's son, or a great lord. People would expect that they could encounter the most venerable paladin, George.

If that saint was more skilled in preaching and debating, or had healed the sick, then the priests who admired him should also possess such talent and ability.

Although there are some strange deviations, such as the knight who is good at communicating with small animals, or the priest who likes farming, they are basically the same.

"Saint Jerome was not a law-abiding and obedient priest. On the contrary, he was generally considered to have extremely novel and abrupt understandings in many areas, and of course, such a person was not popular in the Church. This is why, although he served the bishops in Rome, he was eventually exiled to a monastery in Bethlehem, where he spent the rest of his life."

But this turn of events might not be a bad thing for him. He had always been passionate about translating ancient texts and documents—from the ancient Greeks and Romans—and as you know, these inevitably included many heretical doctrines that were strictly forbidden by the Church…”

Heraclius glanced at Cesar—his student was not as gentle and steadfast as he appeared, and if he revealed anything, Heraclius could explain it away by citing some of St. Jerome's actions.

"And the fact that he once encountered a lion in the wilderness who removed the thorns from his paws can be interpreted in two ways."

If the one who senses him is a monk, we can say that he will surely be able to live in harmony with wild beasts in the future, or that he is skilled at healing bleeding wounds. And if you are a knight, then it can only be interpreted as you becoming a guardian—at that time, you also know that Amalric I is always somewhat suspicious, perhaps because of those servants before him. Although they deserved their fate, this matter did indeed shock and anger Amalric I.

You know what I mean, right?

Cesar paused, then nodded. Indeed, to Amalric I, everyone except his own children was a beast of burden—a tool or a beast of burden. For him, it was utterly unacceptable for such beings to suddenly develop their own consciousness and dare to supersede their master. Therefore, when he discovered that Cesar's attitude towards Baldwin wasn't as subservient and obsequious as he had imagined, he even considered eliminating Cesar.

“He never imagined that you and Baldwin would become so close, and that this closeness wasn’t just based on your feelings for each other; you share the same blood.” Chirac sighed deeply.

He had already seen the unpredictable nature of fate in these two children. He was not good at prophecy, but a sense of foreboding always lingered in his heart. "I just hope that I can continue to protect you for a few more years."

If Cesar only had Bethlehem, that would be one thing, but now he also has Cyprus and Damascus—even the usually prudent Chirac couldn't help but harbor a sliver of delusion.

It now appears that the marriage between Hiber and Abigail will not provide a suitable heir to the kingdom of Arazarus, while Cesar's wife is about to give birth to a child.

If the child were a boy—of course he couldn't bring him to Sainte Cross Castle immediately as Baldwin suggested—he could let Cesar's son spend the next few years in Cyprus until he was six or seven years old, when his body had grown and his mind had matured, before bringing him to Arrassa.

If this child were to become the next King of Arazarus, the support he would receive would be far greater and more abundant than that of any previous guardian of the Holy Tomb.

This would inevitably lead to a bloody upheaval, as Cesar wasn't the only one with a right to the throne. Moreover, he thought of Princess Sibil, who had always hoped to become the second Melissant, but he didn't think highly of Sibil—not to mention Sibil, even Melissant's actions weren't universally accepted.

Moreover, with Constance, the wife of the Grand Duke of Antioch (Bohemond's mother), and the wife of the Count of Edessa (Cesar's grandmother) preceding them, one abandoning her son and the other betraying her country, female rulers were unlikely to gain the approval of the Crusaders, even if she was only acting as regent for her son.

While Gian was still excitedly describing his longing for married life, Heraclius was pondering whether he could use the miracles of St. Jerome on the unborn child.

The saint whom the father had foreseen blessed the child before his arrival—what a beautiful and holy thing this is! When people mention this child, they will think of him as chosen by God and the saints…

King.

“Teacher?” Seeing that Chiraclius remained silent for a long time, Cesar asked in a low voice. “Nothing, I’m thinking about what to do after I enter Bethlehem—after all, the Holy Relic is no small matter.”

The Patriarch's messenger delivered a secret letter. In their opinion, this miracle was very likely real. Besides, even if it was fake, what would be the point of forging a miracle of St. Jerome?

Unless the monks of St. Jerome Monastery intentionally attract more pilgrims to the monastery—as some churches or monasteries have done before—the Church usually maintains a degree of silence. After all, the wealth accumulated by churches or monasteries that have had saintly apparitions will snowball with the influx of pilgrims, and a large portion of this income will also go to the Church.

Generally speaking, scams are never exposed.

Unless it was forged by a layman, or so clumsy that even a farmer could tell, thus damaging the church's reputation.

However, neither of the two messengers detected any obvious signs of forgery, indicating the involvement of the chosen one. Such a manifestation of divine power is difficult to categorize as genuine or fake, since they borrowed the power bestowed upon them by the sage, and the sage permitted them to do so; doesn't this imply they had the sage's permission?
"You may need to fast for a period of time, change out of your knightly attire, wear a monk's coarse linen robe, and sincerely repent and pray in the monastery. But this period will not be too long. Basically, after the signs of the miracle disappear, you can continue your ascetic practice for another week."

Of course, to show their piety, some knights would even extend the process to a month or even a year.

However, César still held the position of Governor of Damascus, and although David had promised to urge his father to act in accordance with the King's will, the delay was indeed worrying.

------

"The men sent by the Patriarch do not seem to have discovered us."

“Of course,” a priest quickly chimed in. “The favors they receive are not even a fraction of yours. How can fireflies compare to real stars? Your radiance is enough to illuminate the whole earth.”

The ascetic, whom the priest had praised so highly, simply turned his head. His gray eyes held little human emotion, sending a chill down the priest's spine. However, he was used to the ascetic's coldness and eccentricity—these were secret weapons controlled by the Roman Catholic Church, which revered only one person: the Pope.

King Heraclius of Arrassa probably never imagined that Alexander III was indeed old and about to answer God's call to heaven.

But even though he was old, like all tyrants, even as his life was about to end and his body was decaying, his desire for power could still burn down the entire city of Rome. He wanted to hold everything tightly in his hands until the very last moment.

Even though to outsiders his claim to Cypriot territory seemed utterly absurd—how could such a vast fortune be obtained with just an imperial decree and an illegitimate daughter of unknown origin?

But in Alexander's view, his child, or rather his illegitimate daughter, was already doing a disservice. If it weren't for Cyprus, his illegitimate daughter could have married a duke or a prince.

At this point, reasoning with him is useless. As long as he feels humiliated, he will retaliate at all costs. Anyway, he won't stay in this world for long. Even if the King of Allazarus leads a large army into Rome, he won't live to see that day.

“Come with me,” the ascetic said in a dry voice, reaching out to a child who had been sitting in another corner of the room. The child, though dressed in monk’s robes, looked to be only about ten years old. He reached out and grasped the ascetic’s hand, and the ascetic leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Can you sense the presence of those little creatures?”

The child nodded. "There are many, but they are still very young."

"In just one place, or in many places?"

"Many places."

The ascetics straightened up and said nothing more; their first step in the plan was complete.

Lego was not the only one; there were many others like him, some Isaacs, some Christians, and some even Saracens. They flocked here from all directions, carrying the warm greetings of Pope Alexander III to the Knights of Bethlehem.

(End of this chapter)