Chapter 185: War Begins
“I know you rarely refute Baldwin, or rather, you have never stood in opposition to him.” Raymond said in a cold, hard tone, his mouth corners turning downward, two deep nasolabial folds like two ink marks printed on a portrait painting. Fortunately, he still remembered that the one standing before him was not an Isaacites slave, but the Count of Edessa.
So, he did not command in the tone of rebuking a servant, but instead earnestly advised like an elder guiding a junior: “I know you are a humble, kind, and sentimental good child. You respect and love Baldwin and are unwilling to go against his wishes; we can all understand that. But if you want to continue as a lord and minister by his side, rather than as a sycophantic servant, you should know that sometimes overly indulging your king is like pushing him into a dangerous abyss.
Moreover, such feelings are not long-lasting. As soon as a bit of reason emerges in his wanton and reckless life and he awakens to his sins, he will distance himself from you, expel you from Holy Cross Castle and the court. At that time, where will you go?
It would be better to start now trying to be an upright person; that is the path you should take.”
After speaking, he carefully scrutinized Caesar’s expression. Though this child had been listening respectfully without refuting or showing irritation, what annoyed Raymond was that he still had not taken these words to heart. It was imaginable that after he left, he would still go his own way and act stubbornly.
“If you were not a descendant of Flanders, I would not say these words to you at all,” Raymond forcibly suppressed his disappointment and said: “But I will not blame you; this is not your fault—but you must know that in terms of how to be a lord and subject, you cannot compare to my son David, or Abigail, Guy, Arthur, and others.
You were forced to wander in enemy territory, received no systematic knights education, grew up under women’s pampering into a spoiled brat, until those heathens took you from your foster parents and made you a slave to an Isaacites merchant. This is your misfortune and ours.
But this is not a reason for you to belittle yourself. No matter what you think, I am sincere in hoping you can become an upright person worthy of this surname and origin.”
Raymond’s persuasion sounded entirely reasonable, considering not only Baldwin’s side but also Caesar’s. A naive young man would surely be moved by his words, as Raymond had stood in the court and council of Ayyarasa Road since Baldwin III, and even by lineage, he was Caesar’s uncle or elder cousin.
But for someone with formed values—Caesar could interrupt the logical chain in the other’s words at any time.
First, accusing Baldwin’s decision of being too rash and impulsive was laughable—Caesar did not believe he could not see that as long as they had not severed the alliance with the Byzantine Empire, this campaign was inevitable.
Not to mention their common vassal, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch, just Manuel I and his contracts with Ayyarasa Road had been negotiated and signed since Amalric I’s time; those documents could almost fill an entire box.
If he died and his heir refused to recognize those treaties, it would mean all alliances between the Crusaders and the Byzantine Empire over these decades would come to nothing. Moreover, if the Byzantine Empire collapsed or changed its attitude toward the Crusaders, it would mean that on the Anatolian Peninsula, the Crusaders would have only enemies and no friends.
This conversation ended unpleasantly, with Raymond storming off, vowing never to say another word to this stubborn fellow. Caesar watched him go, far calmer than the astonished servants nearby.
What Raymond said might not be entirely from selfish motives; much of it was still hoping Baldwin could become a good king, and he a good subject.
If not for the plundering, Count Joscelin III of Edessa should indeed have served alongside them in the King of Ayyarasa Road’s court, and their heirs should have become inseparable, trusting close friends.
But who could predict the world’s changes? Caesar also knew it was hard to persuade a stubborn person—he was not silent about anything he did out of fear of losing Baldwin’s trust—in places Raymond did not see, his attitude toward Baldwin could even be called strict.
Sometimes Baldwin would jokingly say that though they were the same age, Caesar looked at him like a strict teacher disciplining a naughty student.
But on this matter, Caesar was absolutely on Baldwin’s side. Raymond and the others opposed because they could not shake off past mindsets and still saw Baldwin as a child, but before the Crusaders’ enemies, Baldwin was already a true monarch.
Arslan II proposed meeting the King of Ayyarasa Road as an equal, referring not to Baldwin but Baldwin IV; that was a meeting of two monarchs, not to be interfered with or obstructed by subjects.
Even just from the perspective of this war, Baldwin could not refuse. Could he say he refused to meet the Turks’ Sultan because his subjects feared the other might set a trap intending harm? People would mock him as too cowardly and timid, still a puppet unable to escape his subjects’ control.
If so, even if Arslan II lost the subsequent battle, he would hold no respect for this young monarch.
Raymond’s excuse was still Baldwin’s youth—a sixteen-year-old king seemed possibly still in a naive and ignorant stage.
But just because of youth, should he refuse to face this cruel and dangerous world?
Sixteen is too young, eighteen not much better, twenty still immature, twenty-two still unconvincing, twenty-four, twenty-five… must he wait until entering the grave to be considered mature and reliable?
Raymond simply was unwilling to relinquish the authority in his hands.
But if he countered Raymond with this reason, he would vehemently deny it, claim it was suspicion and humiliation toward him, and leave full of anger, even more indignant.
So Caesar did not bother.
Unwilling to side with them, the old ministers led by Raymond still failed to stop the young monarch’s rash act. Of course, this was only from their perspective—though there had been a great victory at the Sea of Galilee before, it came from an ambush and could not be called a formal clash between one monarch and another. Now was Baldwin’s first appearance as King of Ayyarasa Road before the world.
They agreed to meet on a hill between the two armies. To show sincerity, Arslan II allowed the Christians and his subordinates to erect a huge tent together. The tent had openings on both sides, allowing the two monarchs to enter simultaneously and then sit at opposite ends.
It was a quite peculiar sight.
The two ends of the tent were arranged in completely different styles. The Seljuk Turks’ side was filled with splendid Eastern opulence, with some barbarism and vulgarity. Arslan II sat on a huge gilded and silvered throne, its armrests, legs, and backboard carved with countless birds and clouds; in front was a low footrest topped with a plump deep blue silk cushion tied with golden ribbons.
The Sultan wore a robe with crossed collar—buttons on the right, a Persian dressing feature, slightly different from the Turks’—embroidered all over with crowns, lions, and plant patterns, each with its own meaning.
This robe was not formal attire; it had a name unique to him, called riding outer garment. Dressed thus, the Sultan seemed not to be meeting an enemy but a friend, which could not be called disrespect, as he properly wore two crowns: a smaller one on his head, connected to a larger one by ribbons.
Accompanying him were six ministers, each wearing broad-brimmed hats, beehive hats, or Mongol hats.
The other two were scribes wearing turbans, responsible for recording this meeting, and these officials each wore brilliant silk; two might be generals, as the outline of brigandine faintly showed under thin silk.
On the Christians’ side, their attire was much plainer. Only Raymond and Baldwin wore silk; others wore cotton robes or linen outer garments.
Today Caesar wore a white robe with an Ayyarasa Road cross pattern at the heart position—to indicate that though he was the King of Ayyarasa Road’s subject, he had not yet become Guardian of the Holy Sepulchre—Baldwin still wanted to see him marry and have children.
After all, the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre was also a religious order; once joined, except the Grand Master, members had to keep vows of chastity.
He only wore a silver belt at his waist, for decoration also to reflect his current status. If he casually wore a leather belt or cloth belt, some might think it hypocritical posturing for fame.
After Arslan II entered the tent, his first glance fell on Baldwin.
Not a very sturdy young man, he thought; as a monarch, not particularly steady or composed, but that enviable youth and ambition pierced the eyes like the first ray of morning sun.
They sat facing each other and exchanged greetings.
Arslan II still hoped the Crusaders would withdraw; he did not intend to fight them. Though Baldwin had rejected him before, during this face-to-face talk, he still made an effort, but as Baldwin had said earlier, he could not abandon Manuel I and the Byzantine Empire behind him, nor could Arslan II easily abandon this chance to badly hurt his old foe.
He had once gone to Constantinople in person, knelt and kissed Manuel I’s feet, promising tribute and allowing him to send bishops and officials—now he could not only destroy his former enemy and wash away his humiliation, but even go further.
But Baldwin’s attitude was firm; Arslan II realized the young king planned to use this victory to establish his power—he could not rule personally until February of next year, and a great victory now would be very advantageous.
He could not help feeling regret, but this Sultan was no coward—he smiled at the young man: was the other so certain of victory?
“There are differences between wars and wars, King of the Christians. You have achieved a great victory at the Sea of Galilee; you should preserve that illustrious merit, not let it fade in the failures that follow.”
Baldwin replied, “I think, rather than treating the gained glory as a crown to be constantly polished, kept from dust and rain to preserve its luster, better to treat this achievement as a sword, sharpened continually on hard stone, so it will not rust, corrode, or break.
I will not abandon my vassal and ally for money, nor use conspiracy or tricks against an equal monarch. Let us go to war.
Sultan, nothing convinces people more than victory and defeat decided by swords.”
“You are right,” Arslan II said: “You are a courageous young man. Though you rejected me, I grant your request. Let us go to war.
But before war, at least tonight, you should receive my hospitality.” With that, he clapped; a group of young girls gracefully entered from outside the tent, holding pipas, hand drums, flutes, and bells.
At Arslan II’s invitation, everyone sat on the ground; they enjoyed a sumptuous feast, drank night wine, then morning wine—a crude but grand banquet; everyone was thoroughly delighted.
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On the eve of the appointed day, the Christians prayed to God, while the Turks prayed to their Allah.
When dawn broke, Baldwin and Caesar were fully dressed and exited the tent. Baldwin mounted first; Pollux, entirely black, snorted, seeming displeased with the damp cold air. Caesar followed, mounting and stroking Castor—Castor did not much like those around him.
Raymond turned his head away; people might call him harsh, but he really could not bear it—a white horse should belong to a king, and even if a royal gift, the Count Caesar of Edessa should not accept it so casually.
Baldwin, however, was very satisfied. When he gave Castor to Caesar, he envisioned the day they would ride side by side on the battlefield—back then Pollux and Castor were foals; now they had grown, and so had they.
