Chapter 73: To Egypt!
“Although I know some families intentionally or unintentionally neglect and distance their youngest son,” Heraclius said, “I didn’t expect them to ignore you to this extent.”
Longinus smiled bitterly. Some lords always suffered from having no boys or too few boys, but his father suffered from having too many boys—he had seven boys and four girls.
His territory was not prosperous, and it couldn’t even achieve the goal that had almost become a kind of rule—to support the eldest son to power, and then continue to pave the way for the second and third sons in the Church and other lords’ castles. When Longinus was born, his mother was already old, and she had no affection for this unexpected youngest son; she even called him a sin.
And at that time, his eldest brother was already married, and his nephews were a year older than him.
Heraclius said this because he had previously asked Longinus. His father had not received God’s blessing, but his eldest son had received the saint’s favor. Although it was not much, it was enough for him to maintain the family so as not to fall from the current class. Perhaps because of this, Longinus’s father had put all his chips on this eldest son.
But as the eldest son who had already been “Chosen by Michael,” he surprisingly did not reveal even a little bit of the truth about the “Choosing ceremony” to his little brother. This person’s character was truly worrisome.
As for the others, even without Heraclius’s reminder, after becoming escorts and being able to leave the castle to contact other knights, Baldwin and Caesar were too lazy to listen to those boasts that were simply a mishmash of the Bible and mythological legends.
Those knights and monks who received God’s blessing either said they had fought a dragon as huge as a mountain for three days and nights, or that they had been tempted by seventy-two succubi but still remained chaste—completely ignoring that all “Choosing ceremonies” took place in the church.
But this was also human nature. If only a few people received God’s blessing and the saint’s favor, people might hold them high and worship them as new “saints,” but when there were more and more such cases, and it seemed there would be even more in the future, they would see each other as competitors. What was wrong with eliminating a future enemy?
So getting the truth from these people’s mouths was even harder than fetching water from hell. Longinus had tentatively asked a few times, including priests he had escorted and knights he had saved, but after hearing several jokes in a row, he felt he himself was the joke and never asked again.
Later on, he felt he was a sinner and didn’t dare to harbor such fantasies at all.
“So I am…” Longinus asked dryly.
“Yes, you received the blessing. Chosen by Michael. You are already God’s knight,” Heraclius asked strangely, “What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy?”
“I don’t know,” Longinus said hoarsely, “I don’t know, lord. I didn’t see light, nor hear music. I just slept.”
“Compared to whom? Caesar or Baldwin?” Heraclius asked in surprise. “You don’t think the favor they received is something everyone has, do you?”
“Of course not, but…”
“This is a blunder.” Heraclius said, “That wasn’t falling asleep（ At this point, he couldn’t help cursing Longinus’s eldest brother again）. That was the vision. You were following Saint Barabbas, and when he bestowed the favor, the time might not have been long, and the priests were outside and didn’t notice. But later, you definitely really fell asleep…”
If Longinus had been guided by his brother, when Saint Barabbas spoke his name, he would definitely have known he was selected, rather than simply taking it as a dream and continuing to sleep ignorantly. As a result, when the priests opened the door, seeing Longinus not devoutly praying but snoring loudly, it’s no wonder they were angry.
This situation had actually happened before; it’s just that the luckily selected child was always dazed. But when returning to the castle and their parents’ side, they would always show something unusual—while Longinus encountered three vile Crusader knights and a Saracen.
He guessed that his survival was probably inseparable from Saint Barabbas’s protection. He even wanted to try calling the saint’s name again, but Heraclius held him down. “Don’t cause us trouble,” he said. “For the next few days, you’ll be on a stretcher following the army.”
Caesar, while busy with tasks, was still concerned about Longinus. Upon hearing he hadn’t succeeded and had left the church but hadn’t returned to the castle, he immediately went out to search.
Fortunately, the place where Longinus had the incident was not far from the church—the bathhouse was originally built by Saracens for pilgrims from afar to cleanse their bodies, just like the pool of Siloam under the Temple Mount. That Saracen had pulled him up.
“Have you seen that Saracen?”
“No,” Longinus said, “but he definitely wasn’t an ordinary person.”
Heraclius nodded. “I examined that Crusader knight’s body. He suffered multiple heavy cleaves; his chainmail was damaged, bones broken, but the fatal wound was a throat slash. That man placed one foot on him and then cut his throat with a scimitar…”
“I heard that knight begging for mercy, asking for last rites, but that Saracen refused. He asked if they had ever let Saracens pray.”
“There are merciful knights who, when conditions allow, let their enemies—even a Saracen—make a final prayer to their god. But that guy definitely wouldn’t be one of them.” Heraclius said affirmatively. Indeed, knights willing to show mercy to enemies wouldn’t commit plunder and rape women.
Just like Caesar, he would soon become a knight, but if you said he would turn into someone like Walter, Heraclius wouldn’t believe it no matter what.
“How is my master?” Longinus asked. This question made Heraclius show a rare trace of worry.
——————
Amalric I chose to begin the expedition in September after careful consideration. By the time they set out from Ghazalafa in October after assembling the army in Gaza, the Nile River’s flooding had ended, and the army didn’t need to worry about floods.
Also, Egypt’s crops are harvested in June and July, but attacking then would require Crusaders to hire farmers for harvesting. By this month, wheat and rice were all harvested, dried, and threshed, with all grain properly stored in warehouses. It was also the planting season—if they couldn’t sow seeds now, the farmers here would starve next year.
So their resistance wouldn’t be too strong; they would only appeal to leave them some food and seeds. As long as controlled properly, there wouldn’t be much slaughtering of livestock or burning of grain, such desperate acts.
Of course, what the Crusader knights would do was unknown.
And to avoid too much consumption and personnel loss during the expedition, Amalric I had to frequently hold martial arts tournaments and hunting gatherings. Every tournament offered considerable bounties, and there were beautiful and elegant noble ladies—yes, in the struggle between Amalric I and Templar Knight Walter, noble ladies shouldn’t appear; only prostitutes would follow the army.
But in holy war it was different, because each expedition lasted two to three years, and some knights’ and lords’ wives protested that if they weren’t allowed to be with their husbands to bear children（ only Martial Monks need celibacy）, if their husbands died, what would they live on?
The Church finally had to compromise, saying that since the war against heathens was sacred, wives were allowed to accompany the army.
Some Crusader knights did indeed return home with wives and children.
So after staying in Ghazalafa for a while, the nobles’ tents from Francia, the Apennines, and Hungary had many more gorgeous colors. These noblewomen certainly didn’t come alone; they brought their handmaids and maidservants.
The blooming of these delicate flowers did soothe the anger of many young warriors. They no longer quibbled over a piece of bread or a bowl of broth, nor tried to leave camp to burn, kill, and plunder nearby—after all, violating heathen women instead of killing them would lead to suspicions of insufficient piety or poor self-control.
Friction between them also decreased. Not that they no longer itched for a fight, but they could expend that energy in martial arts tournaments and hunting gatherings. After all, these events had rewards and ladies’ smiles; kissing their fingers was better than anything.
But once there were martial arts tournaments and hunting gatherings, Baldwin and Caesar had to appear. Their fame had long spread beyond the Holy Land. Everyone knew King Amalric I had an heir favored by Saint George and an attendant favored by Saint Jerome. They had sworn to each other, brothers without blood ties, like gemstones set in gold, shining mutually, leaving people unsure which to cherish more.
They served at the king’s side and were sometimes lent to serve a noblewoman. Of course, they weren’t used as servants but more as ornaments—Caesar especially received much attention, so much that it annoyed Heraclius. Although Baldwin’s illness could be an excuse, and he didn’t need noblewomen’s favor, but…
“They spend too much time around women. It’s time they met some Saracens.” When the king said this, Heraclius wasn’t surprised at all; he just thought, finally. He bowed, accepted the order, and went to inquire if anything had happened recently.
The Saracens didn’t just watch this army advance proudly; they kept setting obstacles and harassing repeatedly, but without much effect.
“I was just about to tell you,” Count Raymond, whom he asked, said with a stern face. “We need some people for revenge.”
————
Damara suddenly crashed into Caesar’s arms and burst into loud sobs.
When Baldwin and Caesar were called to the edge of the camp, they still didn’t know what had happened. They saw some knights gathered in one place: some shouting in anger, some kneeling and praying to God, others tearing their robes and raising fingers to swear oaths.
When they approached, someone shouted, “Prince Baldwin is here!”
So everyone made way for them, and at the end of the path were several… corpses covered with cloaks and flags.
Damara was sobbing over one of the corpses. Upon seeing Caesar, her first reaction was to rush over, grab his sleeve tightly, and drag him to the corpse: “It’s… it’s… it’s Elena,” she cried, gasping for breath, nearly suffocating, but still insisted, “She was killed, killed…”
A nearby knight stepped forward and told them what had happened before.
Elena was the noble lady who had gone shopping at the Market with Gerard de Ridefort back then. She was several years older than Damara and had married a Crusader knight after Amalric I married the Byzantine Princess.
On this expedition, she couldn’t bear to part from her husband, nor could he from her. They had no children, so she followed.
Just a few days ago, Elena and several noble ladies, with knights guarding them, went horse riding for a stroll. On the way back, they saw a dense fig grove with deep purple fruits as numerous as stars in the sky. The knights went in to pick some for them to quench their thirst.
Unexpectedly, a group of Saracens suddenly rushed out from inside. They shamelessly ambushed the knights, killed them, and abducted Elena and the other noble ladies.
Elena’s husband immediately led men to search but found nothing. He hurried to the king, begging him to negotiate with the locals—even if it meant exchanging a chest of gold, he wanted his wife back. But before finding the culprits, Elena and the other noble ladies were all returned— in decapitated form.
“She, she…” Damara sobbed, unable to continue pointing at the corpse. But the knight who had been standing by it—presumably Elena’s husband—bowed to Baldwin. “If you are willing, no,” he said, “You should see her corpse.”
He lifted the cloak covering the corpse.
