Chapter 111: Bethlehem
Jacques walked out of this mansion that originally belonged to him, and when he looked back, the room high up was still brightly lit—he really didn’t know if having such a master was a good thing or a bad thing for Bethlehem.
But regarding this job that Caesar entrusted to him, Jacques couldn’t say he was completely confident, but he didn’t find it difficult either—after all, from the beginning, this was what “they” had discussed.
If Bethlehem’s new master was a knight in the usual sense—brutal, dull, insensitive—they wouldn’t even bring the dispute with the Saracens to the table. But obviously, he was a delicate-minded, clever young man, worth them trying.
Unlike the knights, as merchants, they rarely despised a young man without reason.
Of course, older people are often worthy of respect and trust because of their rich experience, but young people also have decisiveness and acuity that the elderly lack.
As merchants, this talent is quite important—they are like seagulls soaring over the sea, where war, plague, and famine are the cyclones and storms covering the sea surface; as soon as they smell the ominous scent in the air, they must decide whether to flee, hide, or seize power and wealth amid the raging storm.
Jacques returned to his current home. This mansion was slightly smaller than the previous one, but in terms of splendor, refinement, and comfort, it was in no way inferior; as soon as he walked through the gate, servants brought rose water to wipe his face, hands, and feet. He changed clothes, put on slippers, and slowly walked into the dining room behind the courtyard.
Lego was dining in the dining room.
He was the Isaacites merchant who had just bought that batch of soap at three times the price not long ago, and also Jacques’s father-in-law.
Unlike people’s imagination of Isaacites merchants, Lego was an active, nimble, somewhat short middle-aged man. When he saw Jacques, he didn’t care much about these formalities, just waved his hand and called him to sit by his side. The servants quickly brought today’s dinner for Jacques: a stewed duck, along with some figs and bread.
Saffron was added to the stewed duck, the expensive spice dyeing the broth a beautiful golden yellow, with ginger and onion in the soup, the aroma enticing, but Jacques really had no appetite. He urgently wanted to report to his father-in-law about the Knight of Bethlehem, but Lego interrupted him, “Wait until we’re done eating, no need to be so eager, we still have time.”
Then he continued, “Although many of my clansmen like to talk business while eating, it both spoils the food’s flavor and easily causes indigestion, and moreover, a dull brain when full will make them make wrong choices.
We should strictly follow the saint’s teachings. Whatever we do, we must focus wholeheartedly. Now let’s enjoy this duck.”
They silently finished the entire dish like that, then casually ate some figs and bread.
Finally, they talked about the Knight of Bethlehem, the new king of Ayyarasa Road, Acre’s Nur al-Din, and Egypt’s Ilghazi and Saladin. “If bystanders heard our words, they would surely laugh, thinking we’ve all gone mad. We’re just two humble merchants, I’m an Isaacite, and you’re my son-in-law, but how many things in the world grow from tiny roots, flower, and bear fruit?”
“Sometimes, when I look at them, it’s as ridiculous as when they look at us. Jacques, you must remember, you can despise anyone, but you absolutely must not ignore them, especially those tiny, lowly, easily forgotten ones…
Even if those high-and-mighty big shots say they can’t stir up any waves, sometimes a single nail can ruin a war horse, a war horse can throw a knight to his death, a knight’s death may foreshadow a war’s defeat, and a war’s defeat may cause a kingdom’s downfall… hey!
Just like our great ‘Light of Faith’（Nur al-Din）, he is the Sultan, the king’s army, a fearsome dictator, but so what? He still can’t resist time; the glory God cast upon him is fading, and now he can’t even avoid the assault of wind and cold.
Alright,” Lego gathered his wandering thoughts and said: “Did he really say that?”
“Yes,” Jacques said: “The Knight of Bethlehem is very perceptive; he immediately read important information from the Saracens’ reactions.”
“Such a young man, with that background, and now Jerusalem’s new king is his close friend and brother; by the favor of the previous monarch, he has Bethlehem. To say he has no ambition at all, no desire to achieve something, no one would believe it.”
“But I see he’s also a cautious person,” Jacques said. “He didn’t get overjoyed or make any immediate decisions. He told me he needs more definite news; if I can get it, tell him—I said, Nur al-Din’s ‘definite’ information,” he emphasized the pronunciation of “definite.” “He can promise on behalf of the king that we will get a reasonable return.”
“Ha. What a generous promise,” Lego said displeased, “but don’t I know them? When they use you, they always seem kind, generous, reasonable, as if they don’t care about your status and faith at all. But once they don’t need you, or need a scapegoat, we’ll be thrown to those hungry wolves.”
But he quickly calmed down and began to consider the authenticity of this promise. He had heard of Baldwin and Caesar; the latter even had the title of Little Saint, and the former was known for his mild justice.
The problem was right there.
Could a gentle and amiable young man suppress those unruly ministers and generals below?
Lego had heard that the new king had a regent minister by his side, his father’s cousin, and his sister had a marriage alliance with Antioch’s Abigail.
If this young couple could have a healthy, lively heir, a boy, within the next year or two, then this new king’s presence would be dispensable.
Even if people say he received the saint’s favor, the holy spear granted by Saint George once lasted three days and nights without fading, and he moved swiftly in battle, never falling back—this could certainly win the knights’ support, but for his ministers and generals, it wasn’t a good thing.
But for Lego and Jacques, it might be an opportunity.
“What we’re plotting might be exactly what this new king desperately needs.” Lego said. Jacques knew what he meant—when a young man faces elders who are older, more experienced, and more familiar to people, how to prove himself superior? Of course, with achievements.
And as the King of Ayyarasa Road, the Commander of the Crusaders, what could prove himself better than a war?
The more intense their infighting, the fiercer the struggles—our new king’s longing for a great victory would grow stronger. As long as he can open a path for the Christians and seize territory, those meddlesome people will immediately fall silent.
Jacques’s throat moved slightly; he anticipated such a future but also involuntarily felt nervous.
Sitting in this mansion were just two merchants; they were the king’s hyenas, the lord’s money bag, the knights’ stewards, yet utterly disrespected, especially his father-in-law, an Isaacite, and the Knight of Bethlehem was always tolerant; otherwise, they wouldn’t even speak to him personally.
Even if he was wealthy, brave, and full of wisdom.
For this, he had to violate Isaacites law and marry his daughter to a Christian, namely Jacques, because he needed a spokesman who could step into the spotlight.
Although Jacques was a clever young man, he still couldn’t compare to his father-in-law in experience and boldness; he was completely convinced by his father-in-law. Even if the plan Lego proposed this time was simply shocking, he joined without hesitation, without considering what ending he would face if the plan leaked.
