Chapter 202: The Eve Of The Wedding
As the ascetics boarded the ship to begin their pilgrimage journey to Antioch, Princess Anna had already arrived at Holy Cross Castle. As the drawbridge was slowly lowered and the horse slowly advanced, Anna couldn’t help but press her hand to her chest, where she had hidden the letter from her adoptive mother to Queen Mother Maria here. She couldn’t be sure if the letter would have the desired effect, but it was at least the only comfort she could get in this unfamiliar environment.
The knights gathered on the roads and squares of Holy Cross Castle. When they saw the king, dressed in a white robe and clad in silver chainmail, appearing in their sight surrounded by ministers and generals, everyone let out earth-shattering cheers, startling who knows how many birds.
Some of the knights, unable to restrain themselves, even raised their short swords in the Roman way of celebration and struck their shields forcefully, making even louder clanging sounds.
If the great victory at the Sea of Galilee was a holy relic created by Baldwin, then the direct confrontation with Seljuk Turks Sultan Arslan II undoubtedly established Baldwin’s unquestionable position as commander. This showed that even in a proper campaign, their king could still lead them to a brilliant victory.
He was still so young; even if he was destined for a short life, he still had at least a dozen years to lead them charging freely on the battlefield, invincible.
For the Crusaders, who had become increasingly weary in recent years and had to shift from offense to defense, this was like a shot in the arm.
And among these people, the one closest to Baldwin, Balian of Ibelin, even stepped forward and hugged Baldwin tightly. “We originally wanted to hold a triumph for you, but…”
“But there’s still Cyprus, right?” Baldwin laughed, one arm around Balian, the other around Caesar, as the three of them walked shoulder to shoulder into Holy Cross Castle, leaving Raymond behind.
But at this moment, whether Grand Master of the Knights Templar or the most ordinary knight attendant, no one would care about Raymond’s current mood. They had already learned that Byzantine Empire’s Manuel I, to repay Caesar for saving his life, was marrying Princess Anna to him. Although this would be called a beautiful story in a fairy tale, what the knights cared about was only Cyprus—that was Cyprus!
They crowded around Baldwin and Caesar, eagerly asking for all sorts of details: how they saved Manuel I, how they were entertained by Manuel I, how they were promised this marriage, Princess Anna and the huge dowry she brought. They were also asking about the wedding date—for the Crusaders, of course, the sooner the wedding, the better.
Baldwin had previously suggested holding the wedding ceremony on his name day, February 2nd next year. This date was quite urgent, but the knights still felt it was too long. Their worries were not unfounded; after all, such a good thing could easily have unexpected complications.
It would be best to get them married as soon as possible, so that Caesar—that is, the Crusaders—could thoroughly possess Cyprus.
But this date probably couldn’t be moved closer, though rather than saying it was to let the bride better adapt to her husband’s family life, it was more to leave time for the Crusaders to vie for power and profit.
That’s right, Cyprus was Princess Anna’s dowry, and in the future, the ownership and use rights of this dowry should belong to her husband Caesar.
But the problem was that Caesar did not have the wealth or energy to control such a huge island.
He was indeed Count of Edessa, but everyone knew that the County of Edessa had ceased to exist decades ago. His father left him 200,000 gold coins, which could certainly allow a person to live extravagantly for life, but for an island, it was a drop in the bucket.
“He needs soldiers, needs knights, needs craftsmen, needs countless laborers!” The Grand Master of the Knights Templar paced agitatedly in the hall, unwilling even to return to his chair.
“The Knights Templar can provide all these; we can even draw people from Francia and the Apennines—he can have whatever people or things he wants, we can give them to him. We have tens of thousands of farmers; if the Cypriots dare to defy his will or rebel, he can kill them all and throw them into the sea. Even if he kills everyone, we can ensure that next year’s wheat, grapes, and olive yields won’t be affected.”
“Cyprus isn’t Ayyarasa Road.” The Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller couldn’t help reminding him. “He is going to rule that place, not clean it up.”
“I’d rather he go clean that place.” The Grand Master of the Knights Templar said in a low voice, though he knew Caesar would absolutely not do that.
“Aren’t the Cypriots always good at weighing pros and cons?”
Baldwin said, using a very polite adjective here, without directly saying that Cypriots were accustomed to trimming their sails to the wind.
“So when he arrives in Cyprus, he must have an army by his side.”
“An army? His or the Knights Templar’s?” This was said somewhat impolitely, but the Grand Master of the Knights Templar couldn’t get angry at this person.
This person was Patriarch Heraclius, who had several identities here: the king’s teacher, the religious leader of the Holy City, and at the same time, Caesar was his student. He had acknowledged this connection long ago, but unlike Baldwin, Caesar was just an ordinary servant back then. Becoming Heraclius’s student meant Caesar was very likely to succeed his mantle in the future, a relationship similar to an adoptive father-son bond in the secular world.
If Caesar later truly became a monk, or rather a Martial Monk（ Knight of the Order）, he would have the right to inherit all his teacher’s legacy. At this time, when the student’s interests were harmed, the teacher could of course stand up and speak.
Heraclius was well aware that whether it was the aggressive Knights Templar or the silent Knights Hospitaller on the side, their goals were the same.
Manuel I chose Caesar, possibly in part because Caesar happened to be a landless count, meaning he was unlikely to have the power to support his brother-in-law, the half-deposed Alexios, who would not get a strong arm.
But this inadvertently suited the wishes of both the Knights Templar and the Knights Hospitaller.
If Princess Anna’s marriage partner were Baldwin, Raymond’s son David, or any lord’s son, it would be hard for them to intervene. Caesar’s isolation and thin foundation became the greatest advantage at this time; he had no troops or manpower, and little money—wouldn’t he inevitably have to seek their help?
The Grand Master of the Knights Templar believed he was not greedy, only hoping to get a part of Cyprus, where they would build castles and city walls. In a sense, this was all to fight the Saracens, doing work for God.
But from Heraclius’s standpoint, this was encroaching on his student’s territory.
This practice was not uncommon; Byzantine Empire’s Manuel I had used these methods to quietly infiltrate the Crusader states. Every gold coin he spent, whether helping build castles and fortresses, ransoming lords and knights, or through marriage alliances, could yield considerable returns, just like Antioch, which he had now mostly occupied.
Cyprus belonged to Caesar; he would absolutely not allow others to take the food from his mouth when his wings were not yet full.
“But I’m not wrong, am I?” the Grand Master of the Knights Templar insisted. “He needs to quell internal strife and fight external enemies. No matter how much God favors him, it’s impossible for angels to descend from heaven to help him fight all enemies—are we the kind of shamelessly greedy people?”
Hearing this, the Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller on the side coughed uncomfortably a couple of times, earning an annoyed glance from the Grand Master of the Knights Templar—don’t hold me back now, his eyes said.
“We only need a small part of the territory, perhaps a few charters; we are his allies, but I swear, the Knights Templar will obey his orders and act according to his ideas…”
The Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller coughed a few more times. Even on Ayyarasa Road, the Grand Master of the Knights Templar and their king had argued more than once or twice, yet here they were swearing they would obey a young knight’s orders—what nonsense.
Even the devil wouldn’t believe it if told to him.
Interrupted twice, the Grand Master of the Knights Templar still wouldn’t give up. He even mentioned that the Knights Templar had many secular members in Francia, including officials and merchants, who could also serve Caesar. It could be said that as soon as Caesar nodded, they could build an entire administrative system for him from nothing.
These things couldn’t wait until after the wedding to prepare slowly, he said earnestly. After all, once married, Caesar would be the master of Cyprus and have to face all its affairs. If he were at a loss and overwhelmed then, he would surely draw the contempt of those Cypriots.
If that happened, what tricks they might play behind this lord’s back would be hard to say.
The worst outcome would be that they think Byzantine Empire’s Manuel I has abandoned Cyprus, and their new lord is just a Christian knight whose power is far from enough to rule the entire island. They might completely turn to the Saracens, lead the Saracens onto Cyprus, and make it a nail driven by the Saracens into the Mediterranean.
These words certainly had his selfish motives, but they also had some truth.
Baldwin and Heraclius exchanged a glance; they had decided that, as the Grand Master of the Knights Templar said, it was absolutely unacceptable. That way, Cyprus would be just a title for Caesar.
If Caesar really lacked officials, merchants, and knights, both Heraclius and Baldwin could support some, and then there were…
——————
“She is Damara of the Gerard family.”
Sibylla pointed at the young girl who still had a bit of childishness and said, “You may not know, Caesar was once her knight—you know—what ‘chivalric love’ is?”
This question was full of malice; even the usually insensitive Damara couldn’t help but furrow her brows.
Baldwin originally wouldn’t have easily allowed Sibylla and her husband Abigail to return to Holy Cross Castle so soon, but since Byzantine Empire’s Princess Anna was about to marry Caesar, when she arrived at Holy Cross Castle, to show respect for the princess and the importance of this marriage, the most important female members should be there to greet her. In any case, her status was there, and her dowry; after being allowed to return to Holy Cross Castle, Sibylla had been well-behaved for quite a while.
But what could be said? Her true nature was hard to change.
At this time, the noble ladies were gathered in the “needlework room,” because this room was where noble ladies and handmaids did needlework, so it was naturally spacious with ample light, and often used as a parlor.
Queen Mother Maria arranged the first meeting of Princess Anna and the other noble ladies here, hoping to make her more relaxed—Constantinople’s Grand Imperial Palace also had a “needlework room.”
As for Sibylla’s provocation, it was somewhat expected. Maria came from the court of the Byzantine Empire and naturally knew that the decadence and chaos in the court far exceeded that in the Crusader knights’ castles.
“Chivalric love” was indeed easily misunderstood; although this “love” was necessarily free of any carnal desire, if a knight and his mistress really had anything beyond spiritual intimacy, they would be despised, seen as having defiled this pure emotion.
But which bride-to-be wouldn’t have expectations for her husband and marriage?
When she heard that her husband had once held fervent love and absolute obedience to a beautiful young woman, she would inevitably feel depressed and hard to dispel.
The room was quiet; everyone was waiting for Anna’s response, and Sibylla’s lips even bore a cruel smile.
“I know.” Anna said, then she turned to Damara sitting opposite her, extended her hand; Damara immediately stood up, came to her side and sat down, holding her hand. “Hello, Damara,” the princess said very gently, “How beautiful you are. In your eyes, I can see your purity and piety; you must be a good person to have earned Caesar’s loyalty.”
“Now this loyalty belongs to you,” Damara said without hesitation. “I have long released the oath he swore to me; the love he gave me was a knight’s love for his mistress, not a man’s for a woman—his love for me was not because of me, but because he once received a favor from my uncle Abbot John. What a righteous man he is; unable to repay my uncle, he could only keep this favor in his heart and repay my family through me.”
“I will also repay you. Because you once helped my husband.” After saying this, a faint blush rose on Anna’s cheeks. It was the first time she had so frankly admitted her feelings; this palpitation originally came from that handsome face like Endymion, but it finally settled and solidified during that short yet long journey.
The men she had seen before, even if handsome, had hearts as vicious as snakes and scorpions; they not only didn’t love her, but didn’t see her as a complete person.
Although she knew that most men at this time were like that, she had still hoped her husband would respect and cherish her; now she finally got it.
If she said she hadn’t worried or feared about this, that would be false.
But not now, and not Damara—when she was first led by the handmaids deep into the castle, and at first sight saw a beautiful girl running toward Caesar beside her, crying and laughing, and hugging him tightly, her heart did skip a beat.
Only later did she learn that the girl was Caesar’s sister, daughter of Count Joscelin III of Edessa, and then she felt relieved.
As for Damara, having seen much scheming and intrigue among women in the court, how could she not see Sibylla’s not-very-well-hidden malice? She could even taste other flavors from this malice, like a strand of hard-to-conceal sourness.
She also didn’t doubt Damara’s words; whether there was an affair between a man and a woman—though she hadn’t experienced it, she had seen too much, one could say it was obvious at a glance. Damara might have some vague feelings for Caesar, but Caesar…
She didn’t know how to put it.
The only thing certain was that, in love, Caesar was absolutely a novice.
