The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 196 Death is like a cool summer night, a time for peaceful sleep (Part Two)

Is Isaac involved as well?

Stephen scoffed, "Isaac Angelos? I'm not familiar with him. Besides, this Henry was nobody before Lenica. Who's ever heard of him? I took it for granted when he beat Isaac. Who is Isaac? A fallen steward of a family, who, despite possessing some family martial arts skills, is ultimately a clerical worker whose mind is no longer on the sword. Beating him proves nothing. I didn't take it to heart."

The subordinate seemed surprised: "Ah? You're not familiar with Chief Steward Isaac? Then—then why were you so respectful and obedient to him in Nicaea? Wasn't this mission also ordered by him?"

Stephen scoffed, as if his subordinates were hopelessly stupid: "Is your brain filled with seaweed? I respect him and follow his orders because it's Governor Simeon Dukas's command! That poor fellow Isaac knew nothing about it from beginning to end! He was just faithfully and foolishly carrying out the task his governor gave him—to entertain the Crown Prince of Jerusalem and arrange ships to take them back to Constantinople. And me—"

Stephen said smugly, "What I received was an order from the Governor-General, delivered directly to me through other channels, to ensure that the Crown Prince of Jerusalem disappears forever after leaving the Imperial Seas, or falls into the hands of our enemies. Isaac? He's nothing but a figurehead, a pawn being used without realizing it."

Simeon Dukas! It was him!

Although he had suspected it beforehand, hearing it from Stephen himself still sent a chill down Leon's spine.

This guy really is a wolf in sheep's clothing!

The subordinate exclaimed "Oh!" with a sudden realization, his tone becoming excited: "I remember now! Boss, back when Andronica was regent, you occasionally mentioned that you had connections in Constantinople and knew a friend named Ducas, who was quite influential—could it be this Governor Simeon?"

Stephen didn't answer directly this time, but instead let out a low, ambiguous laugh, as if he were acquiescing.

His subordinate, now even more excited after receiving confirmation, said, "Boss, since we're going to exchange this little prince for money, why go all the way to Hungary? If you ask me, we should just turn south and go find Sultan Saladin of the Ayyubids! I've heard that Sultan is incredibly wealthy and hates the people of Jerusalem to the core; he's definitely richer than the King of Hungary, and he'll surely offer a higher price!"

Lyon's heart leaped into his throat.

Shut the hell up and just focus on paddling!

Stephen responded coldly: "Money? Money isn't the most important thing. What Bello III could give us, Saladin could give us too, perhaps even more. But what we want is more than just money."

He subconsciously lowered his voice: "More importantly, it will embarrass that young emperor of Constantinople and his men, causing them to lose all face and prestige!"

He explained in detail: "Think about it, a royal ally and in-law, under their meticulous planning and skillful escort, vanished without a trace in the waters deep within the empire. Then, some time later, he suddenly appeared in the hands of the empire's mortal enemy—King Beryl III of Hungary. What kind of effect would that have?"

His subordinate thought about it for a moment and was a little confused.

Stephen sneered, "This means that the Empire can't protect its allies, and it can't even control its own seas! It means that the young emperor and his ministers are utterly incompetent! This will severely damage the already crumbling prestige of the Komnen royal family, making those already disgruntled nobles and generals even more restless. At the same time, it will also cause the Kingdom of Jerusalem to completely lose faith in the Empire, even turning them into enemies—their crown prince was killed on his way back from fighting for the Empire, and not only can the Empire not find him, he's in the hands of the Empire's enemies! Can this alliance still be maintained?"

He paused, a hint of anticipation in his voice: "We've weakened Komnen, appeased the King of Hungary, and may even sow discord between the Empire and its most important overseas ally. This is exactly what Lord Simeon and I truly desire. A triple win!"

His subordinates didn't quite understand, but they finally realized that going to Hungary was better than going to Saladin.

"As for your concern about the sailing time—" Stephen added at the end, his tone returning to its usual calm, "Don't worry about it."

The Dukas family has connections everywhere. Once we arrive in Thessaloniki, at the port of Jelissos, someone will meet us. Reliable sailors and ships disguised as ordinary merchant vessels will be ready there. After transferring ships, we'll head south at full speed, then west, and it won't be long before we reach the Serbian coast. Serbia and Hungary are currently flirting, practically allies. Hungary will have reliable personnel waiting in Serbia to receive us and this great gift.”

It's over. A chill ran through Lyon's heart.

The other side had a meticulous plan, was supported by a powerful governor like Simeon Ducas, and had a well-coordinated and clear objective.

He was a child, bound like a dumpling, dizzy and disoriented, on a small boat in the vast ocean, facing two strong adult kidnappers. His chances of escape were slim.

But he couldn't give up yet. Since he couldn't escape for the time being, he would try his best to gather intelligence.

He continued to maintain the illusion of being unconscious.

He didn't know how much time had passed—perhaps a quarter of an hour, perhaps longer—before Leon decided to "wake up."

He needed to test the waters to see if he could get more information out of Stephen and the others, or at least observe their reactions.

He first let out a weak groan, his brows furrowed as if he were fighting a headache.

Then, her eyelashes fluttered a few times before she slowly and laboriously opened her eyes.

His gaze first swept blankly across the dim, low cabin ceiling, then turned with difficulty to Stephen, who was sitting on a wooden barrel, idly counting on his fingers.

Leon roared, twisting his body as he lunged at Stephen: "You—Stephen, what's going on?! Where am I?! What do you want?!"

Based on the countless story tropes Leon had read and his stereotypical view of villains, at this moment, the usually unassuming Stephen should be grinning maliciously as he steps forward, smugly revealing his conspiracy, showing off his brilliance, and reveling in Leon's terror and helplessness, deriving a perverse sense of satisfaction from it.

However, Lyon was overthinking it.

When Stephen heard Leon's voice, he merely raised his eyelids lazily and glanced at him, his gaze as if he were looking at a talking piece of cargo, or a rat that had accidentally wandered out of the ship's hold.

Then, without any reaction, he lowered his head again and continued to crack his fingers, without even changing his posture.

Lyon was stunned.

He raised his voice slightly, his anger more pronounced: "I'm asking you a question! Stephen Haggio Cristoferritis! What exactly is your purpose?!"

Stephen raised his head slightly, clearly surprised that Leon knew his surname, but then lowered his eyelids again, waving his hand impatiently as if shooing away a buzzing fly: "What's all the noise about?"

Leon: "————"

He tried to struggle, but the ropes were tied professionally, and the more he struggled, the tighter they became.

He then tried to provoke them with words, questioning whether they knew the consequences of kidnapping the Crown Prince of Jerusalem and condemning their despicable behavior.

Stephen ignored him and even pulled out half a piece of black bread, as hard as a rock, from his pocket and started eating it.

Lyon continued his stern questioning: "Stephen! I order you in the name of the Crown Prince of Jerusalem to release me immediately! Do you know what you're doing? This is treason! This is blasphemy against our allies! Simeon Ducas will not let you get away with this!"

Stephen didn't even look at him directly. He walked up to Leon, squatted down to check the ropes binding him, and after confirming that they were secure, took out a piece of equally hard bread and a small leather bag from one of his bags.

He broke off a small piece of bread and put it near Leon's mouth, bringing the leather bag close to reveal water inside.

"Eat," he said, his tone and eyes devoid of any emotional fluctuation.

Leon turned his head away, refusing to eat, and glared at him angrily.

Stephen didn't force him. He placed the bread and water within easy reach of Leon, then straightened up, sat back on the barrel, and continued to stare blankly and count on his fingers.

Lyon was utterly speechless.

Days passed by like this.

The small boat struggled forward as Stephen and his men took turns rowing.

Lyon couldn't distinguish between day and night, and could only roughly judge the time by the changes in brightness of the light coming through the portholes.

He was forced to eat and drink in order to maintain his strength.

Aside from necessary handovers and feeding, Stephen and his men had almost no interaction with him.

He tried several times to strike up a conversation, get closer to the person, and even pretend to be unwell, but all he got in return was a cold glare from one of his men or a brief "shut up" order from Stephen.

Absolute loneliness and powerlessness bound him tighter than any rope.

He could only repeatedly recall the conversation he had overheard, analyze every detail, ponder Simeon's motives, worry about the lives of Henry and the soldiers, and miss his brother in Jerusalem.

But the more you think about it, the clearer the despair of reality becomes.

Just when he was almost numb, change finally came.

That day, the light streaming through the porthole seemed exceptionally bright, and the sound of the wind and waves was different. The cries of seagulls and the sounds of other ships could be faintly heard in the distance.

The small boat slowed down noticeably, seemingly approaching some location.

Shortly after, the hatch opened, and Stephen poked his head in, saying to Leon the longest sentence he had uttered since embarking on the journey: "Stay put and don't make a sound."

Then, he and his men seemed to cover Leon from head to toe with an old canvas that smelled of fish, leaving only a gap for him to breathe.

Lyon felt himself being lifted up and moved unsteadily. He heard the sound of planks being put on the gunwale, the sound of hurried footsteps, and the sound of people talking in hushed tones.

He couldn't hear the specifics, but he could sense that there were many people.

He was moved to another place, which seemed to be a cabin, much larger than the cabin of the small boat, but also much hotter.

When the canvas was lifted, he was already in a place that resembled a cargo hold, surrounded by wooden crates and sacks.

In the cabin, besides Stephen and his old men, there were more than a dozen unfamiliar faces.

These men were dark-skinned, with shrewd or fierce eyes, dressed in ordinary sailor's clothes, but they were efficient and taciturn, clearly not ordinary shipwrights.

Stephen was speaking in a low voice with one of their leaders, and they quickly reached an agreement.

The new sailors quickly took their positions.

Lyon's heart sank to the bottom.

Thessalonians, port of Jerisos, the rendezvous point Stephen mentioned has been reached.

The chances of escape became even slimmer as the number of people increased.