kingdom of nations

Chapter 305 Damara's Crisis
The reply from the messenger from Holy Cross Castle relieved Cesar. He knew Baldwin would be willing to share his hardships, but the problem was that he had already fallen into the trap and really didn't need another sacrifice.

Moreover, malaria had a greater impact on Baldwin than on others. Baldwin already suffered from leprosy, and what lepers fear most is the disruption of the body's balance. He and Heraclius had managed to maintain Baldwin's health in a relatively optimistic state—even so, the death of Amalric I, the provocation of Hibil, and two consecutive expeditions all caused Baldwin's condition to slide into a negative direction.

For this reason, Cesar was always very urgent, and he never stopped his research on drug purification and injection equipment.

If someone else were to contract malaria, he might still have a chance to recover, but for Baldwin, the predicament he faces is likely even more difficult than that of their teacher. This is a gamble he should never have joined.

He hastily replied with a letter, mainly to reassure Baldwin that he was doing well and that the source of the plague was being eliminated. He deliberately omitted the news that the number of patients in the city was still increasing.

Malignant malaria does not last long. After the source of infection is eliminated, it can generally be guaranteed that no new epidemic will occur within one to forty days.

Although some malaria symptoms may recur after several months, the harm to the body will be greatly reduced, and there will be almost no infectivity.

At least in this chaotic time and place, they won't bring any serious consequences.

César stood before the map of Bethlehem and made marks on the paper, which was no larger than an arm's outstretched arm, with a needle.

He was now almost certain that the plague was not an act of God, but was brought by someone. It was a cruel and despicable trap—the city's most important water reservoir, several laundry rooms, most of the fountains and courtyards, and those places where people were mixed and densely packed.

He paused for a moment in front of Haredi’s workshop, which was not in the bustling market. He had always disliked dealing with people, whether they were Christians or Isaacs like himself. His house was at the end of the street, out of place with the rest of the place. But he shouldn’t have taken in Lego.

Cesar had already seen the corpse. Although it had changed a lot in appearance, its original features and appearance were still visible. Cesar gazed at the Isaac who had once tried to flatter him but was rejected, and who had tried to blackmail him but was instead driven away. He was an opportunist, a true businessman, and a pitiful man who still harbored some affection and conscience. It was for the last reason that he was chosen as a tool to spread the plague.

People had seen him arguing with the innkeeper and knew he had come for his sister, the madwoman who had disappeared long ago. But Le Guau did say that someone had handed him a letter from his sister, who wanted him to take her to Nazareth.

They also found Lego's belongings, among which an empty earthenware jar caught their attention. No one would carry a fragile and cheap earthenware jar from Nalissa to Bethlehem unless it had once contained something very important.

The lingering smells and textures inside tell people that it contains neither oil, nor spices, nor wine. What could possibly be worth Le Guerre going through all the trouble to bring here?
This question might only be answered by interrogating the Isaacs of Nazareth.

But just like the Isaacs in Bethlehem, the high-ranking officials of Isaac in Nal'azar also disappeared, further proving that this matter was not simple. If possible, Cesar would have preferred to summon Haredi and ask him, but it's likely that Haredi wouldn't know anything either.

At the same time, Cesar did feel a bit angry with Haredi. He didn't understand Haredi's ideas at all—in some ways they were compatible and could be considered good partners. He could also see the thirst for knowledge in Haredi's eyes. Although their beliefs were different, Cesar didn't take it to heart.

He is not a true Christian.

But now it seems that what remained in Haredi's mind was far more stubborn and unreasonable than he had thought.

If Haredi had warned him earlier instead of protecting Legault, Bethlehem might not be suffering so much now.

Even though Cesar had collected enough artemisia and extracted its active ingredients, one-third of the people still fell seriously ill, and half of them would die as a result. After all, the elderly and children were very vulnerable at this time, including pregnant women. If they were lucky, they would only lose their children; if they were unlucky, the mother and child would be buried together.

The cries of weeping never ceased in the city, and people kept coming to him to ask for his blessing. Cesar simply moved his office to Manger Square, where he would work while extending his hand to people at their request, allowing them to kiss or stroke their foreheads. If he encountered a mother holding her child, he would give her an extra silver coin—prices would inevitably soar in a city ravaged by the plague.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before enough food and fuel were brought from Arazar and Nalazar, with the fuel being even more important than the food.

Bethlehem always had ample food reserves to accommodate pilgrims from all directions, but when malaria was rampant, Cesar had to ask them not to drink unboiled water. He didn't know if it contained mosquito larvae, and oral transmission of malaria was rare, but boiled water would certainly be safer, since every patient in the city was a blessing.

Before summoning his attendants, César made a point of checking on his teacher and found that his condition had completely stabilized. Although he still had a slight fever, the convulsions and diarrhea had subsided.

Cesar was worried that if the signs the man showed when he woke up were from a stroke or a brain hemorrhage, he might not be able to save him at all.

If he were to explain to those priests that there might be a blood clot in Heraclius's brain, they would probably be the first to arrest him and exorcise the evil spirit.

Fortunately, although it was indeed a stroke, the symptoms were extremely mild. According to Cesar's observation, Chiraclius still experiences temporary facial drooping, but his occasional delirium shows that his language system is unaffected, which may be due to the priests' influence.

While Cesar was relieved, he also had to pray to the Lord in the darkness, which made the end of his letter simpler: Baldwin would certainly be happy to hear this good news.

He handed the letter to the attendant beside him.

The attendant had just left when Bishop Andrei walked in again, his expression tense. "Is this Gian?"

“No, not Gian,” the bishop said solemnly. Although Gian had nearly died at the hands of his servants, Cesar had saved his life. He had already resisted the plague, and after taking the medicine, he recovered quickly. The priest had also been very attentive, almost second only to Patriarch Heraclius, after all, he was Bishop Andrei’s nephew and successor.

Yesterday he met with César, who came to visit him, and said that he had recovered and wanted to do something for him, but César refused, as the damage malaria does to the body doesn't disappear so quickly.

Moreover, reinfection with malaria is possible.

So when he saw Bishop Andrei's expression, Cesar couldn't help but feel nervous. If he were to contract malaria a second time, the complications would only be more severe, and even he couldn't guarantee that Gian would be safe again. But Bishop Andrei simply shook his head heavily.

“It’s Damara,” he said, his lips trembling. The name stunned Cesar, who couldn’t understand it for a moment. Damara was staying in the monks’ quarters of the Church of the Nativity because she had to take care of Gian. This was the first place to close the fountain, sweep the courtyard, and cover the water with sand.

Moreover, there were insect repellents and incense burning continuously, so at least from what Cesar sensed, there were no mosquitoes around.

"I don't know either," the bishop said apologetically. I saw that Gian was better, and Damara said she felt a little tired and wanted to go back to rest. So I had the monk take her to a room reserved for noble ladies—it was quite quiet there.

Amidst his busy schedule, he didn't notice that Damara wasn't in the prayer and mealtime procession. It wasn't until Gian asked, puzzled, why Damara hadn't come to see him and wondered if her father, Gerald's patriarch, had taken her away that the bishop remembered to send someone to inquire. When they opened the door and went to the bedside, they discovered that Damara had fallen into a high fever.

Do you have symptoms of vomiting or cramping?

"Not yet, but the high fever is terrifying enough." They hurried to Damara's room. Damara's symptoms were very simple, almost exclusively high fever, accompanied by chills, profuse sweating, and a pale face. With the help of the nuns, Cesar touched her spleen to make sure there was no swelling there, but the girl's skin and lips were as white as snow, and her heart was beating too fast.

Because she was unconscious, Cesar couldn't get any more information out of her, but he guessed that she might have severe anemia, which could be treated with blood transfusions. However, even if he could give her a transfusion now, he wouldn't be able to identify her blood type, and an incorrect transfusion would only hasten Damara's death.

"Should we use holy water on her?" Bishop Andrei asked tentatively.

Of course, the holy water he was referring to wasn't the salted spring water, but rather the juice of wormwood.

“That’s probably not very useful anymore,” Cesar said, nodding slightly to Bishop Andrei. The bishop immediately understood and told the others in the room to leave. Cesar injected Damara with some extracts that had an immediate effect on Nellie and Patriarch Heraclius, but had a worrying delay in Damara’s case.

The next day, Gian was completely cured of his illness and could move freely. Apart from being a little weak, he looked no different from usual. His first thing to do was to see Damara, and even Bishop Andrei could not stop him.

If his feelings for his fiancée were initially just out of respect for his future spouse, now they were genuine admiration for her. He had never met such a kind and courageous woman. When Damara said goodbye to him and went back to rest, he even imagined how many children they would have in the future, and even came up with names for each of them—one of them would definitely be named Damara, and the other (if it was a boy) could be named Cesar.

His imagination was as beautiful as reality was cruel. When he stood before Damara's bed, he was almost at a loss. He couldn't accept the fact that he was healed, and that everyone around him seemed to be recovering as well. People were leveling the waterlogged ground, washing the streets, and burning incense. The plague seemed to have been driven out of Bethlehem—like a miracle.

But at that moment, Damara collapsed. He couldn't believe it. He kept grabbing Damara's hand and kissing it. He knelt by the bed, looking at Damara and then at Cesar, as if trying to draw strength from the latter.

"How could this be? How could this be?" he murmured until his body could no longer support him and he was taken away by his uncle.

He came again in the end.

However, he forced himself to eat the unpleasant herbal remedies and the nauseating food. He knew he had to eat, he had to recover as soon as possible; Damara had saved him, and now he wanted to save Damara.

But Damara's high fever persisted, even with the use of artemisia extract. She became rapidly emaciated, her face withered, and Gian looked as if he was about to follow her.

All Cesar could do now was to visit Damara and Gian after finishing his daily tasks, and then bless and pray for them. It was no use saying whether he believed or not now—Damara's father, the patriarch of the Gerard family, although he had not contracted malaria, looked like a patient tormented by illness and on the verge of death. He and Gian took turns guarding Damara, and he never said anything to Cesar, only occasionally looking up at him.

He loved his daughter so much.

“She’s so young,” he said only once when Cesar had seen Damara and was about to leave—the father was almost giving up; Damara had been running a high fever for days, and if she were to wake up again, she might not be the Damara they knew.

This time, Cesar did not return to his room, but went to the Church of the Nativity and almost crawled through the four-foot-high door.

He prayed for a long time before that rough, simple rectangular stone trough, where the Son of God had been born, his purpose in being to sacrifice himself and bear all the sins of the world. Did the Virgin Mary know this then? Did she know that her child was destined to walk a rugged and arduous path of self-sacrifice?

If she were to look at her son, not Jesus Christ, not as a saint, would her heart be filled with pain and devoid of any joy? "Please forgive this innocent man," Cesar whispered. He almost never prayed for himself because he knew very well that he was an unbeliever, and even if a saint did favor him and give him strength, his heart would only be filled with gratitude, not faith.

Now he hopes that there really is a god in the world who can drive away the gloom hanging over the city and bring the sunlight into this hell as soon as possible.

(End of this chapter)