Chapter 162: Longinus
“After they return, they will inevitably boast that you got their one hundred thousand gold coins for nothing, yet gave them nothing.” Kamal said.
“It seems they also know they are not worth a dime.”
Saladin’s words made Kamal laugh heartily, then he walked to the box and began inspecting the gold coins inside. Immediately after, he let out a disdainful chuckle: “No wonder they only mentioned one hundred thousand gold coins.” He grabbed a handful of gold coins in his hand; these were either from Tripoli or Antioch.
In Ayyarasa Road and the surrounding areas, as well as in Syria and Egypt, people preferred to use Roman gold coins. These Roman gold coins did not refer to those of the long-extinct Western Roman Empire, but those minted by the Byzantine Eastern Roman Empire.
The gold coins they minted weighed about four grams each according to current units of weight, with a pure gold content of about eighty-five percent. Most reassuring was that this figure had barely changed over the past several decades.
But minting rights have always been dispersed among each monarch and lord. After the Crusaders arrived in Ayyarasa Road, they too began minting coins separately, and the Saracen sultans and caliphs likewise had their own craftsmen and mints.
Therefore, gold coins circulating in the market were often of varying quality. The smallest ones weighed less than one gram each. The largest were only eight or nine grams, with differing pure gold contents and a bewildering array of names enough to dizzy an ordinary person—and this was just for gold coins. This was also why the Isaacites could thrive in the coin exchange trade.
And these cunning Isaacites had brought only the smallest and most inferior Antioch gold coins, minted by Duke Bohemond of Antioch after his return to Antioch. But Antioch at that time had already been brought to ruin by his mother and stepfather, with desolation everywhere. His mother was still raising money to ransom his stepfather, although this effort was ultimately thwarted by Antioch’s knights.
But Antioch truly lacked ample gold at the time, and Bohemond was eager to assert his legitimacy, so upon his accession, he still minted as many as possible with his portrait as the design.
These gold coins were also the smallest and thinnest Kamal had seen, so thin that the portrait was barely discernible. After toying with them in his hand, he disdainfully tossed them back into the box.
Though called one hundred thousand gold coins, their value was in fact only a quarter or a fifth of what was claimed, and they included many clipped coins, that is, worn or trimmed ones.
The Isaacites often did this: they shaved off part of a gold coin, then circulated it at its original value to others, reminting the shavings into their own property.
This was the baffling thing about the Isaacites: if they were already taking such a deliberate gamble, why not go all the way?
Did they think that shouting about one hundred thousand gold coins would mesmerize someone like Saladin into letting them pass without any inspection?
Even if Saladin were that sort of greedy little man, he would fly into a rage upon discovering the discrepancy and give them a harsh lesson.
But they had to try their little tricks.
Yes, the Isaacites were like that; they always saw themselves as the only clever ones in the world and everyone else as fools. Saladin was not very angry; why bother with a pack of rootless stray dogs? He spared them also to see Caesar’s methods; he had yet to witness this youth’s prowess as a ruler.
Would he indulge these Isaacites, strictly control them, or even hang them?
Caesar was so wise and benevolent, but to date, Saladin had never seen a lord who could completely rid himself of the Isaacites and sustain a city solely with his own people.
After all, the Isaacites had their own “wisdom” for survival; though they oppressed, expelled, or used even crueler, more vile means against useless “heathens” and even their own kind.
But on the surface, they always adopted a tolerant posture: for instance, believers in the Isaac faith were all Isaacites; those born to an Isaac woman were Isaacites; a son-in-law of Isaacites was an Isaacite.
And once an Isaacite, one should help every Isaacite and receive help from every Isaacite. This slogan sounded quite appealing to the uninformed outsiders, especially poor, rootless vagrants.
They thus gathered quite a following, so even when despised, cold-shouldered, and “persecuted” everywhere, they always reappeared unnoticed in various places.
One city might have no Isaacites, but another surely would.
And when Isaacites arrived somewhere, they would seek out other Isaacites first, rather than deal with Christians or Saracens. Moreover, some trades they handled were ones the latter two shunned.
Every city inevitably had poor people; even without lending, some needed coin exchange. Without Isaacites, who would lend and exchange money for them?
Besides, Isaacites had keen intelligence—like this group from Bethlehem; their sources went without saying, surely kin in Damascus City. They had long been tracking the war outside the city and probing the captives’ identities.
Upon hearing one Christian knight was Bethlehem’s master, they immediately sent word to Bethlehem’s Isaacites—they knew nothing of Saladin and Caesar’s connection, only thinking they had found a speculative opportunity.
Though Saladin had entered Damascus City, at Kamal’s urging, he still took a bystander’s stance, with no immediate intent to seize it; if he did, the other Fatah around would surely turn against him.
If he did not wish to sink into Syria’s quagmire now, he would always have to leave.
But before leaving, he glanced at the box of gold coins. “Drag out those Isaacites who traded the news and hang them outside the city wall,” he ordered. Kamal accepted the command.
With this former sultan minister’s capabilities, those Isaacites likely would not see another sunrise.
When Lego and the other Isaacites were expelled from Damascus, they lost the mules they rode in on, lost the one hundred thousand gold coins, lost their luxurious silk robes, rings, belts, necklaces on their hands… even shoes—everything Saladin’s soldiers deemed valuable was stripped away.
They wore only thin linen robes, looking wretched as they walked the road, but Saladin’s soldiers had not removed their little caps atop their heads. They also lost the chance to pass as Christians on that pretext. Passing Christians and Saracens saw them and immediately shunned them in disgust, as if they carried plague or feces.
Lego was about to loudly denounce Saladin’s greed and ruthlessness, but as he looked up, he saw the dozen corpses hanging on the city wall. Even from afar, he could feel their whitened eyes glaring venomously at him; he recognized these faces—the Isaacite merchants of the city and their sage.
Out of care for their kin, upon learning Knight Caesar of Bethlehem was Saladin’s prisoner, they immediately sent word, urging him to hasten to Damascus.
Saladin’s guess was correct; any other lord, even if his subjects gave all their money, grain, and lives for him, would feel no remorse.
But everyone could see what kind of person Caesar was.
When he was still a precarious little attendant, he distributed a vast fortune that would move even a count to all the poor in Ayyarasa Road City.
And his steadfast stay by a leper’s side was because he felt gratitude for Amalric I and Baldwin IV’s care; to repay that favor, he even missed several once-in-a-century opportunities others saw.
Interestingly, after his origins were proven, people changed their tune: no longer saying a king should not have an attendant of unclear status and slave origin by his side, but rather that the sole heir of the Count of Edessa should not stay by a leper.
This too was divisive incitement, yet still won considerable agreement.
Many of these were the children once around Baldwin IV and their parents. Though now knights and “chosen,” betraying their master—however explainable, like the leper truly being deemed “punished by God” by the Church—remained an indelible, glaring stain on their records.
Caesar’s presence was like white paper contrasting that stain, making them look even worse. But if Caesar also left Baldwin IV, their fault would not linger in constant memory.
Would Caesar? No, their vile act was more like desperate flailing.
After several contacts with this Little Saint, Lego found his good reputation was not fabricated; he truly was a good person.
His mind worked quickly, and he did not expect repayment like from Amalric I. Though in the prior matter（Nur al-Din）they had been rewarded, he still felt his family’s influence in Bethlehem insufficient.
Lego even planned to marry his daughter, niece, or another niece to the Knight of Bethlehem, like Jacques. Though Caesar had not publicly betrayed his original faith, in Isaacite eyes, he was one of them.
Thinking further, with Caesar’s kinship to the King of Ayyarasa Road, perhaps they would one day have an Isaacite king.
Now his ambitions were shattered; the Isaacites swallowed their curses and rebukes, trudging onward. Fortunately, Syria was no longer so cold; he shuffled along unsteadily and with difficulty.
His soles, pampered and thin, were numb; every grain of sand or stone caused him excruciating pain.
At that moment, a group of riders approached from ahead. His companions immediately pulled him to the roadside and prostrated themselves. Their attire clearly marked them as expelled Isaacites; who knew if startling the knights would earn them a lashing?!
Penniless now, they could not withstand the pain and fever from one whip.
Fortunately, those Christian knights were indeed preoccupied. He did not even notice the prostrate Isaacites by the road. They went straight to the city gate, presented identity proof and pass, and after reporting, were swiftly brought before Saladin.
This time it was finally envoys from Ayyarasa Road.
“The delegation’s leader is just a knight,” Kamal said softly.
Saladin allowed him to stay by his side; these days they had been together, with occasional friction—a necessary breaking-in for lord and minister.
Fortunately, Saladin was not harsh, and Kamal was tactful; they grew familiar far faster than imagined.
Kamal saw Saladin as a frank and just monarch（the former rarer than the latter）, while Saladin saw Kamal as an understanding minister. Though Kamal still jested he was just a prisoner, his authority in Damascus City already subtly exceeded that of his puppet friend.
The Ayyarasa Road delegation’s leader was merely a landless, surnameless knight, dark-skinned, skinny, and tall; even Kamal was stunned.
Given King Baldwin IV of Ayyarasa Road’s regard for Caesar, even if not coming himself, he should have sent a grand duke or count.
“Longinus?” Saladin asked.
Longinus showed surprise upon recognizing this Saracen. Of course he remembered Saladin; though unnamed, the man had saved his life. Otherwise, just after being “chosen,” he would have died at the hands of several likewise “chosen” Christian knights.
But he never imagined the vile wretch once cursed and reviled countless times by Christians, who betrayed his lord and faith（turning from Nur al-Din’s general to Caliph Atid’s Grand Vizier）, was the very Saracen who slew the sinner under moonlight and saved him.
Though Caesar had long known Saladin saved Longinus outside the cathedral, after reflection, he had not told Longinus. He was unsure of Longinus’s reaction, and as his closest attendant—who refused to reclaim his name—Longinus was vulnerable; many would target him to pry an opening.
Moreover, it was ultimately between him and Saladin. Given Longinus’s actions then, Saladin would have aided him anyway, but Saladin’s status was so sensitive that it might stir waves.
The guards’ low reprimand snapped Longinus from shock. He knelt, heart surging uncontrollably.
He heard the man above speaking of his background with amused casualness: “This is Longinus,” Saladin said to Kamal. “When Caesar was still a little attendant, he followed at Caesar’s side. People then called him the slave’s slave, but he did not care. He is sharp-eyed and clear-headed.”
Saladin said approvingly, “And firm-minded, unshaken by gossip. Now I understand why King Baldwin IV of Ayyarasa Road sent him; those ministers by his side may not all wish Caesar back in Ayyarasa Road.”
Saladin’s familiarity chilled Longinus even as it brought disbelief and wild joy.
Before departing on the king’s orders, some said it was just a Saracen trap. Why would Saracens treat Christians so mercifully? Even if he once treated the late Sultan Nur al-Din well, had no merciful Christian knights treated Saracen captives well?
They treated a living one, not a corpse.
Indeed, Christians viewed Saracens far more harshly and narrowly than vice versa, even valuing last rites so highly yet doubting Saracens would repay Caesar’s one good deed so greatly.
Let alone Saladin not being Nur al-Din’s son; he had even betrayed Nur al-Din before.
This talk was rife; Baldwin IV knew their aims—partly envy and hatred, but more feared he would rush to Damascus over Caesar’s safety.
People had once worried about his accession, but that vanished after the great victory at the Battle of the Sea of Galilee.
They hoped he would be another Amalric I or even Saint George, bringing more hope and victories in years ahead—as said before, short life was no great flaw for a king; there were still over a dozen years?
But if he risked himself for Caesar, what if that Saracen shamelessly detained him? Would they not then ransom the king? Worse, if executed by Saracens—that would be a major blow to the Crusaders and all Christian countries.
But they knew how stubborn and arrogant this young king was.
Earlier, without Queen Mother Maria’s dissuasion, Patriarch Heraclius’s gentle urging, and Count Joscelin III of Edessa still alive—he might have given Caesar a key post like major-domo.
It was indeed a role for the king’s kin and confidants. But a sixteen-year-old king was marvel enough; did they want a sixteen-year-old major-domo too?
This was hard for those ministers near fifty to accept, led by Count Raymond of Tripoli and Duke Bohemond of Antioch.
Hearing Caesar captured, they even prepared to gladly obey if the king sent them. But after a night’s thought, the King of Ayyarasa Road did not say he would go himself（relieving many）nor send any influential noble as delegation head, instead appointing the knight Longinus, managing the city for the Knight of Bethlehem, to lead knights to Damascus immediately.
As for the vast authority the king granted him—essentially to decide and act in his stead—it was a minor matter.
The lords had no grounds to refuse, watching anxiously burning Longinus unhesitatingly accept the king’s power, seal, and documents, then depart with the knights.
And before entering to see this man, Longinus had worried if it was truly a trap. He did not fear death, but feared if Saracens found their scheme foiled, they would vent fury on his master.
He carried bills of exchange for nearly three hundred thousand gold coins, and promises from the King of Ayyarasa Road. Do not forget, though Sultan Nur al-Din’s body was returned, there were still emirs and Fatah captured at the Battle of the Sea of Galilee.
They awaited ransom by kin or monarchs in Ayyarasa Road’s castles, but Acre was now utter chaos, none minding them. Yet to exchange for Caesar now, Baldwin would not hesitate.
But the hall’s atmosphere was nothing like the tense villainy Longinus imagined, especially facing Saladin—this Saracen, unknown then, had once saved a Saracen girl for him, slain a dangerous foe, and pulled him from that dry well.
Longinus then understood why Caesar fell silent after he recounted it.
This man had long known Caesar, and from demeanor and tone, they had dealings; especially, he spoke of Caesar like an endearing junior.
He stood rigid, glad Saladin allowed only him audience; no others were with him. Those Christian knights were loyal to the king, but not all might vouch for Caesar.
If they knew, back home they might speculate wildly, turning it into ammunition against Caesar.
“What you fear will not happen,” Saladin said calmly, gazing at Longinus’s eyes full of anxiety and doubt. He smiled. “You can go see your master now. He has woken, then slept again, waking two or three more times—wakeful periods lengthening, but he is still weak.
Go speak to him. He may not recover quickly enough to return to Ayyarasa Road with you, but at least it will ease your mind, and he needs a familiar face to attend him.”
Longinus, hearing this, was overwhelmed with gratitude. He did not produce what Baldwin IV entrusted; this Saracen shared his master’s fine qualities—words from his mouth held little falsehood, nor would be casually ignored or discarded later.
He could trust him, so with deep grateful bows to Saladin, he withdrew from the room. Servants outside naturally led him to Caesar.
“Do you know him, or do you know everyone around Caesar intimately?”
Rare for him, Kamal sidelong glanced at his future monarch. Though knowing he should not say it, Saladin’s behavior seemed… somewhat sleazy.
Saladin stretched his back contentedly; he did remember Longinus, after all—his face stood out among knights, quite memorable.
But what ultimately impressed him about this attendant was his deed outside Ghazalafa’s cathedral: perhaps Caesar’s teaching or influence. The knight’s action truly surprised him.
Hearing Saladin’s account, Kamal nodded repeatedly. They admitted Crusaders might have respectable folk, but more were contemptible bullies and oath-breakers.
Then, Longinus was just a wandering knight whose master was an ordinary attendant, not yet a knight—let alone knowing he was “chosen.”
Amid such despair and blows, he mustered courage to save a Saracen girl, facing three chosen knights. Such valor deserved praise; even as a Christian, he could have a place in the sultan’s court.
“Lions do not run with hyenas, nor swans soar with vultures,” Kamal said sincerely, but then sighed, understanding how Saladin would release Caesar to Ayyarasa Road.
If he took Caesar now, whether to Egypt or Acre, Caesar would not consent willingly, even harboring resentment and hatred. Plunder and retention were wholly different.
And this noble-natured youth was doomed not to survive that turbid world. “Saladin, what if he perished amid those intrigues?”
Saladin looked at Kamal, still smiling, but the chill in his eyes said it all.
