kingdom of nations

Chapter 333 Two Banquets (Part 1)

As Baldwin stood before the Jaffa Gate, he couldn't help but think that this might be one of the few times he wasn't making Cesar wait for him, but rather waiting for Cesar himself.

The first instance was, of course, when César returned to Castel Sainte-Croix after his asceticism in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and he was waiting there; the next was when César went to find and rescue Count Étienne on his behalf, and he hoped that Count Étienne would return safely to his side; the third was when César went to Bethlehem, but that was also a short time; the last time was probably when César was on a diplomatic mission to Apollo, and when he heard the news of César's peril in Damascus—how terrified he was then, for it was the first time he had truly felt the fear of death, not his own, but César's, and it was far more terrifying.

At that time, he thought that he would never let Cesar leave him or Alassa again.

Although he knew it was impossible, César was so brave and so intelligent, how could he possibly keep him by his side for his own selfish reasons?
Even though César had sworn to him that he would never leave him if he hadn't asked him to.

But as it turns out, childhood promises are always shattered by the realities of adulthood, and he had never been separated from César for so long before.

Although Baldwin believed that César was by no means a devil, the Pope's excommunication was like a shaky sword hanging between him and César. Baldwin wanted to leave Santa Croce Castle to see César several times, but was dissuaded by Queen Mother Maria each time. This might make the Roman Catholic Church think that they were arrogant enough to disregard their authority. César's weakness was that he had no foundation, but that was also his advantage. Baldwin was different.

Moreover, Baldwin had already done something that seemed rather excessive to outsiders—he expelled Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch and Count Raymond of Tripoli, both of whom were his uncles and elders, non-blood-related brothers of Amalric I. Count Raymond of Tripoli was also a distant relative of his—he had served as his regent, while Bohemond was his brother-in-law's father. And what they did was procedurally impeccable.

Whether it was preventing him from going to Bethlehem—a king should not put himself in danger during a time of plague—or allowing his son to take over Damascus—this refers to Raymond, Count of Tripoli.

Unlike Cyprus, Damascus was a city conquered by the Crusaders, so it was impossible for a sinner to rule it. Among the young knights, the one with the status, qualifications, and achievements to take on this important task could not be a good-for-nothing like Abigail.

Moreover, David was a well-regarded knight, although it turned out that the missing plank in the barrel would indeed bring about a great disaster—but at the time, everyone agreed that he would be a good successor, and even Cesar acknowledged it.

Baldwin even took his anger out on David, so much so that at meetings concerning Damascus, he repeatedly and ruthlessly rejected Raymond's request—Raymond wanted him to grant Damascus to David as territory.

Baldwin's idea was simple. Besides him, César had contributed the most to the attack on the city—even so, César did not demand Damascus, but suggested that Baldwin send a governor, so that Damascus would still belong to Arrassa Road.

Although it is an enclave for Alaska Road, it should at least be so in terms of claims and power—others should merely be Baldwin’s agents in governing the city, officials, not masters.

This was certainly advantageous to Baldwin and Alaska, and thus garnered them considerable support. However, there were also many who supported Count Raymond of Tripoli, mainly due to a matter of customary law.

This might be blamed on Frederick I, the Holy Roman Emperor.

In this turbulent era, the German states frequently fought each other for the throne, resulting in constant bloodshed. As the offspring of the union of two powerful families, Frederick I was undoubtedly a war enthusiast. He had a nickname, Barbarossa, which means "red-bearded man," given to him by his arch-enemy, the Italians.

Because he had conquered Italy twice and forced the Italians to submit through powerful military means, people said that his red beard was stained with blood and used it to frighten children.

He also had his own allies, among whom the one he trusted most was Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxony. However, Henry gradually fell out of favor with the emperor due to the conflict between his own power and the imperial power. After Henry II's death (because Henry the Lion married Henry II's daughter Matilda), Frederick I finally sounded the horn of attack. After losing Henry II as a powerful backer, Henry the Lion's army was utterly defeated by Frederick I.

Most of his territories were stripped away, leaving him with only two cities. Frederick I coveted these territories, but to show that he was only punishing Henry the Lion for his insolence and not intending to deprive the princes of their lands—and to avoid causing panic among them—he distributed all the confiscated territories to other dukes instead of confiscating them as his own royal lands.

This practice was certainly generous and praised as noble—of course, anyone who suddenly acquired such a large territory would say so—but it inadvertently established an unwritten rule for all Christian kings: the confiscated vassal territories could only temporarily belong to the king or emperor.

Kings cannot challenge feudal lords simply because they want to expand their own territories.

Therefore, those people were more inclined to support David, the son of Count Raymond of Tripoli, to receive the territory—they believed that Damascus should belong to the Crusaders, not the king of Arazari, and that even if the king had contributed the most, it could be exchanged for other territories or compensated with income…

Moreover, Tripoli is the smallest of the four major Christian kingdoms. If it could be linked with Damascus to strengthen its power, it would be a good thing for the Crusaders.

Moreover, David's bravery and piety are evident to all, so entrusting him with the task is perfectly reasonable.

King Arrasal's anger and stubbornness were seen by them as immaturity and instability of a young man, or perhaps some of their thoughts were similar to those of Bohemond or Count Raymond of Tripoli, namely, they were not happy to have another trustworthy, loyal and capable person by the king's side.

What further halted Baldwin's progress was Patriarch Heraclius's health condition.

Although the patriarch escaped death thanks to Cesare's medicine and care, the plague did take its toll on the old man. He tried to find a way to protect himself from further persecution or even murder by leveraging the authority of Alassa and by bribing the cardinals.

"what happened?"

Baldwin turned and asked, vaguely sensing some commotion around him. A knight approached him: "It's some commoners. They heard... the Lord of Cyprus is coming into the city, and they've come to welcome him..."

The king looked up and found that he was not alone in doing so. Some knights said that there were far too many of them. They were afraid of the soldiers’ spears and were either hiding in houses or in alleyways. All that could be seen were the throngs of heads and the eyes that gleamed in the shadows.

Baldwin originally didn't take these people seriously either—what could these weeds possibly do?

But it was these insignificant beings who protected the one they loved when he and the Patriarch were both extremely anxious.

For the first time, they witnessed the immense power that could be unleashed from those frail bodies. Even the patriarch couldn't help but kneel on the ground, gazing up at the crucified image of Jesus Christ, and asking whether true goodness and its equal reward truly existed in this world.

Even a thousand years ago, all people gave Jesus were garlands and dew, but Cesare was able to receive help and protection from the poor and lowly that was comparable to that of a king. This surprised many people and also changed some people's perceptions.

Their ways of doing things have changed, at least in Arrasa Road and the surrounding cities. Nobles and knights are no longer so unscrupulous—the virtuous remain as before, of course, while the cruel and tyrannical have become somewhat more amiable.

After all, they weren't particularly devout, and when it came to interests, even the king had to contend with the church, let alone these lords and dukes—it wasn't the first time the church had used excommunication to seize power and profit.
They even considered exempting some taxes, but then abandoned the idea. They couldn't do what César could do—not build castles, not construct palaces, not wear silk clothes, not drink fine wines, not use expensive spices, not hold banquets, and rarely hunt—except for the hunts used to replenish the food consumed at banquets and festivals.

Some might wonder how much money a lord, including his family, close knights, and officials, could squander? In fact, it was quite a considerable expense.

Five hundred years later, the diamonds worn by a king could be worth as much as an entire fleet.

Sometimes it wasn't that these lords were overly fond of fine clothes and jewelry, but rather that they lacked the etiquette and demeanor befitting their status. In order to highlight their status, they could only use these ostentatious external objects to show off and display themselves.

César had to do the same—Baldwin gave him his own clothes when he first arrived at Holy Cross Castle—but now he didn't need them anymore; virtue was far more valuable than any jewel.

"Wisdom, benevolence, fairness, and integrity," Baldwin murmured to himself. It was incredibly easy to carve these words into bricks and stones, but to truly internalize them was extremely difficult.

At that moment, a group of knights arrived amidst billowing dust.

A sharp-eyed knight whispered, "They're English!"

Richard I carried the St. George's Cross, a flag with a predominantly red background and a white cross in the center, which evolved from the three lions emblem of the English royal family.

“Richard I has arrived, Your Majesty. Please go and greet him,” Count Berion whispered a reminder. After the king unhesitatingly expelled Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch and Count Raymond of Tripoli, Berion, who had previously held an awkward position, suddenly became one of the king’s most trusted ministers.

Berion did not disappoint the king's expectations. He was cautious, which was both a weakness and a strength. His mature and steady nature also served as a buffer between the young and impetuous king and other ministers, not to mention that he had the king's birth mother, Countess Jaffa, behind him.

Although the Countess of Jaffa had a minor disagreement with Baldwin before—both Baldwin and Hibyl were her children, and she couldn't possibly abandon one child completely because she loved the other—Hibyl had disappointed her once again. She didn't believe that Hibyl was completely ignorant of what was happening in Bethlehem, and that Hibyl should also know how important Cesar was to Baldwin.

To make up for his past indebtedness to Baldwin... and perhaps Cesar, the Earl of Berlión became a messenger between Baldwin and Cesar. Although they could not meet, the correspondence helped alleviate Baldwin's guilt and worries.

“He said he would come with Cesar,” Baldwin said eagerly.

"The King of England is not César's servant," Berrian thought to himself.

Fortunately, no sooner had the king finished speaking than another knight galloped in carrying a crimson banner with an Allazar cross, a crescent moon, and a star. Below was the proverb "With the Lord." Seeing this banner, Baldwin's heart finally calmed down.

The messenger dismounted, bowed to the king, and announced the imminent arrival of their master.

This is one of the disadvantages of Cesare arriving not as a crusader knight, but as an absolute monarch of the Byzantine Empire.

If he were merely a crusader knight, an earl in name only, Baldwin could have immediately mounted his horse and met his long-lost friend on the way, embracing him tightly and reminiscing about their separation.

If he were to step forward now and make the meeting informal, it would be disrespectful to a monarch. At this moment, he could only suppress his eager heart and wonder if something was slowing down Cesare's journey, causing him to wait so anxiously.

Something was indeed slowing Cesar down.

Although the Roman Catholic Church had repealed his excommunication, Cesar did not show the same elation as those who were pardoned, nor did he rush to church to confess, pray, or attend Mass.

He continued with his work as if nothing had happened, and Baldwin, understanding the situation, extended invitations to the lord of Cyprus, the absolute monarch of the Byzantine Empire, rather than his chief minister and the Count of Edessa.

The Archbishop of Cyprus quickly spread the news, and the nobles and people of Cyprus were overjoyed. In just a few days, they produced a complete set of magnificent ceremonial regalia. The speed was so fast that Cesar even doubted whether this set of regalia was the one they had prepared for the eldest prince, Alexius.

The procession included a magnificent palanquin—yes, Byzantine monarchs did not ride horses on formal occasions. Priests carrying icons led the way, followed by servants with silver canes, and then Cypriot nobles, who rode or strolled at a similarly slow pace. Everyone was dressed extraordinarily, their jewels glittering brilliantly, almost forming a dazzling rainbow. What surprised Cesare most was the palanquin itself, which immediately reminded him of the one once carried by the Byzantine princess Maria. It was like a small room, but its decorations were far more solemn and dignified than the princess's. Crimson velvet curtains hung all around, every crevice filled with gold or silver. The four corner statues—judging from their attire, they must have been four revered saints—placed their hands on their chests, their eyes gazing into the palanquin as if bestowing blessings upon those inside.

The panels on both sides feature César's coat of arms—vibrant and pure in color. Needless to say, these pigments must have been made from expensive mineral powders. And what carries it is not a common mule, but two tall, black packhorses.

Finally, twelve knights followed, riding identical brown steeds—it was a mystery how these nobles had managed to find twelve horses of such similar color and size in such a short time. These knights were undoubtedly among the most loyal to Cesar—their helmets and chainmail were plated with silver, shimmering like ripples on a body of water in the sunlight.

In the long shadow cast by the knights' banners followed a hundred soldiers, all of them tall and ruddy-faced. Notably, they were all dressed identically, from their belts and boots to their weapons.

By this time, there were already so-called lord's troops, and Cesar did not intend to hide the fact that he was recruiting soldiers. At that time, people would only think that these were ordinary peasant soldiers, or at most semi-professional soldiers—but now it is clear that these people are truly capable of fighting.

While secretly envious, they also hoped that these soldiers were only the hundred they saw or the thousand required by the church—at most, if there were more…

“Fortunately, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch and Count Raymond of Tripoli are not here,” a lord said to his companion with schadenfreude. “Otherwise, they would be terrified.”

It can be said that if César had been a child like David, raised under the guidance of priests and the oppression of patriarchal authority, the trap set by Bohemond and Count Raymond of Tripoli could have completely destroyed him.

He is now unharmed and alive, and even seems to have benefited from misfortune. This is not because his enemies were lenient, but because of the merits he had accumulated and his own resilience. If he really had a thousand or more such soldiers, then the two of them could only hope that the other was indeed as noble as the legends say, and could forgive past grievances.

After all, when a king punishes his vassals, he must also consider whether other vassals will feel the same way if they die. But battles between lords often occur. Sometimes it is because an unfortunate earl has his wife taken away; or because of the division of territory and water sources; or because peasants are instigated and tempted to migrate without permission and fight each other. Even if there are no such battles, can't we create one or two?
In other words, Cesar now owns Cyprus, an island that does not border Antioch or Tripoli, and Cyprus's navy is not yet fully formed—but how young this lord of Cyprus is, while his enemies are in their prime as he inevitably grows old—there is nothing more terrifying than this.

But as the grand procession approached Jaffa Gate, Patriarch Heraclius couldn't help but let out a soft "hmm," sensing something amiss—because another group, the one flying the British King's flag, was following behind the Cypriot group.

Although the absolute monarch was ranked third in the Byzantine Empire's social hierarchy, that is, second only to Emperor Basilius and his co-emperors, or "the most distinguished," this title was not recognized by the Roman Catholic Church, and even if it were, he would necessarily be lower than the king.

Cesar was always humble and easy-going, and he shouldn't have acted so arrogantly. The Patriarch believed he knew his student very well and that he wouldn't suddenly turn into a frivolous playboy. He was about to turn around to say something to Baldwin when he saw Baldwin rush out to meet the palanquin bearers.

He hadn't even considered that even if Cesar hadn't ridden Castor, he would have had it following beside the palanquin. With a burst of laughter, the curtain in front of the palanquin flew straight into the air, and a burly figure rushed out from inside—the two strong horses couldn't help but slightly bend their knees, almost collapsing under the weight.

Baldwin looked up, a rare look of bewilderment on his face. Although he was backlit, the other man's red hair was fluttering in the air—like a burning flame—and he could recognize him, of course. This was Cesar… Before he could back away, Richard's long arms reached out and grabbed Baldwin tightly, giving him an incredibly warm hug.

Baldwin was riding Pollux today. This horse, which was as strong as Castor, had withstood the test of war and the test of friendship. It took only one step back and steadily caught the weight of Richard and Baldwin, only snorting in dissatisfaction.

If it weren't for its owner's back, it would have given this ungrateful fellow a good kick.

Richard gave Baldwin a vicious hug in this awkward way, and then slapped him hard on the back. Compared to Cesar, who was tall but strong, Baldwin was a bit thin. After being slapped so hard by this humanoid behemoth, he felt dizzy and almost vomited.

Just then, he heard Pollux let out a joyful cry, and a man riding Castor galloped from Richard's ranks. He approached the two men and snatched Baldwin from Richard's arms.

“Thank you, thank you,” he said on Baldwin’s behalf, “but that’s enough, Richard.”

Richard sat on the footboard of the palanquin, grinning at the two of them: "Well, Baldwin, is this a surprise?"

Baldwin rolled his eyes at him, saying rudely, "It was a surprise, almost a shock."

Pollax curled his lips at Richard, just like his master. Richard held out his hand, which contained several rock candies. The horse didn't even look at them, but instead spat at him. The foul-smelling saliva splashed onto the King of England, but he didn't mind at all and instead laughed heartily.

The originally solemn and dignified welcoming ceremony was ruined by Richard. This inept bard, valiant knight, and irresponsible king didn't seem to care at all. He wiped the saliva off his face with his sleeve, threw a piece of rock candy into his mouth, and crunched it loudly.

The Byzantines and their retinue were at a loss for what to do.

Because their king was still riding in the palanquin of the Cypriot lord, while the Cypriot lord rode alongside the king of Arrassa, they could only hastily form a large procession and thus entered the city.

A priest quickly caught up with him: "You are being far too reckless, Your Majesty."

Baldwin won't care.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” the monk said in an almost inaudible voice. “Didn’t you see the red spots on King Arazarus’s face? He’s a leper. If I remember correctly, even though no one around him has been infected until now, no one knows how this calamity came about.”

It's really inappropriate for you to be so close to him.

Ignoring Richard's instantly cold expression, he said, "You are now a king. You should not act like a knight, indulging your own desires and doing whatever you want. Even if not for your own sake, you should consider your mother, your country, and your people."

“How strange,” Richard said, almost to himself, “you were hoping Joan would marry him. I thought you didn’t care that he was a leper.”

Upon hearing this, the priest was speechless. "That's different."

“That’s exactly the same.” Richard’s smile faded. Fortunately, he was already back behind the curtain, and the priest had leaned over to speak to him, so he didn’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on their conversation.

"We haven't even mentioned this yet..."

“But the people of Arrassa Road should have guessed why Joan was sent here the moment they saw her. You don’t want to see me embracing a leper, yet you’re willing to marry my sister to a leper.”

“Your Majesty, this is also Queen Elinor’s wish, and Princess Joan has agreed.”

"What reason would she have not to agree?"
When my father married her off to the King of Sicily, no one consulted her opinion.

“This is an honor, Your Majesty. The laws here allow the Queen to participate in politics, even if she fails to produce an heir to the throne. And Queen Elinor does so in order to…”

"do not talk!"

Richard impatiently interrupted him. Although he felt somewhat guilty towards Baldwin, he had decided that he would be honest with Cesar and Baldwin about this matter and beg for their forgiveness. This was not only out of responsibility and love for his little sister, but also because the noble qualities of these two knights should not be tarnished by this incident.

Richard brought his sister Joan here out of necessity.

He only learned when he set off that after the death of the King of Sicily, his cousin Tancred did not hesitate to use the excuse that his cousin had no heir to seize his city, plunder his throne, and imprison his wife, Joan, the daughter of Henry II and sister of Richard.

Joan was born in 65 and married the King of Sicily in 76.

During this brief marriage, she was unable to bear a child for the King of Sicily—Richard refused when he demanded that Tancred return his sister and her dowry. Of course, the warlike king had no intention of further negotiation—he immediately commanded his army to persuade the despicable man with swords, even declaring that he wouldn't mind conquering Sicily first. Under duress, Tancred returned Joan and her dowry.

Richard originally wanted to send some men to escort Joan back to England, but was dissuaded by the accompanying priests. The priests said that after a failed marriage, the princess's pilgrimage to the Holy Land and her spiritual practice there for a period of time might be beneficial to her future marriage. It wasn't until they arrived in Acre, where it was no longer possible to send the princess back, that the priests revealed to him that Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother wanted to marry Joan to the King of Alassa, as they were a good match in terms of status and age.

Joan was five years younger than Baldwin; one was a king, the other a princess. Richard had fought alongside Baldwin, and their friendship was even deeper than that between Richard and Philip II. Moreover, Richard always considered fighting for God his goal and ideal. Having a brother-in-law like King Allazarus would be entirely beneficial to him.

Richard could befriend Baldwin and even give his life for him, but it would be difficult for him to watch his sister enter into another doomed marriage.

The problem is that this marriage wasn't even up to Richard, so how could it be up to Joan?

She was still so young, and upon learning that she might be married off to a leper, she must have been filled with unease and worry, but she also did not have the courage or the will to disobey her mother.

When the banquet began, the varied expressions and whispers of the newly widowed Princess Joan, the sister of the King of England, made her even more uneasy. She didn't even have the courage to look up and see the face of the man who might become her future husband.

When she was giving alms, she had seen those faces ulcerated and swollen from leprosy. How terrible they were! They were monsters that were forcibly called human. She couldn't imagine living with such a person in the future, or even sleeping together in the grave.

If only her husband were the lord of Cyprus.

She immediately suppressed the blasphemous thought—she was also in the procession, and this monarch was not only handsome and tall, but also possessed fine virtues and a gentle nature—she was not mistaken in the eyes of the crowd chanting "Little Saint, Saint," he was indeed adored by them, even more so than the King of Arazarus.

But she had been taught to love her husband as she loved God, and to remain faithful to him. Not to mention that the lord of Cyprus was already a married man, and he and his wife had also entered into a marriage covenant with God's grace and the blessings of the people, and they already had a child.

But the thought sent shivers down her spine. She had indeed had a child with the King of Sicily, but the child died before being named—because he hadn't been baptized, his death meant his sins couldn't be absolved, and so no one ever mentioned him again.

But for a young, healthy woman, it's impossible not to long for her own child. However, marrying a leper meant they could never have children, and she was filled with fear. If it weren't for her pride as a princess, she might have fainted on the spot.

(End of this chapter)