Chapter 37: Choosing Ceremony
At dawn on January 6th, the entire Holy Cross Castle awoke.
Amalric I had been unable to sleep these past few days and needed Heraclius to give him some poppy milk to fall asleep; today, he even drank some Saracens’ black drink to keep his mind clear and his reactions quick.
Heraclius beside him also unusually drank a large cup; Heraclius’s condition was even worse than the king’s. For seven days and nights, he had been mixing medicine, observing reactions, tending and cleaning, remixing medicine… spending time in this cycle. Finally, the two children were asleep, but he still had to run to Amalric I to report the situation, during which he had to constantly endure the king’s probing.
Amalric I was not doubting Heraclius; what troubled him now was that Caesar was too good, better than expected.
He had already decided that after his second son was born, he would appoint two regents for Baldwin: one would definitely be Heraclius, and the other he would choose between Raymond and Bohemond. This way, even if Baldwin was too weak from illness to fight or govern after ascending the throne, these two ministers could ensure the Holy City did not fall into the hands of heathens or the Church.
The problem was that Baldwin now had Caesar, a boy only nine years old. While other noble boys were still learning etiquette and poetry under their mistress’s skirts, Amalric I had already seen the makings of a power minister in him.
Although Heraclius repeatedly guaranteed his loyalty to Baldwin, was loyalty a good thing? Not always. Amalric I thought that if Caesar was indeed as they said, viewing Baldwin as a master or even a brother, then his second son would become Caesar’s enemy—whether it was Baldwin’s lack of a healthy body that his brother was born with, or his decision to make Baldwin a transition or stepping stone—this child was destined not to be liked by Caesar.
But he had to do it, whether as a father or as a king.
Amalric I closed his eyes and deeply inhaled a breath of cold air. With this action, torches, candles, and oil lamps all lit up, as if the darkness here had been entirely drawn into his body—a group of people surrounded the king and ascended to the highest place in the main tower of Holy Cross Castle, its chapel.
To those priests from the Roman Church, this simple small chapel was completely unqualified to house the True Cross. It was very small, accommodating at most thirty people（ standing）. The dome used the most basic four-part rib vault rather than the more exquisite six-part rib vault. The niches for saints numbered only six instead of twelve. There were no buttresses, no reliefs or side columns, no arch decorations, window decorations, small spires, or canopies. The Romanesque round-arched windows used blue and red glass, but instead of piecing together saint images as was now most fashionable, they used common geometric shapes.
The floor was not covered with thick soft carpets or smooth marble; only a large lion skin was stingily laid before the altar.
The stone altar was rough and heavy, covered with white linen cloth and deep blue and vermilion silk, displaying crystal, gold, and silver liturgical vessels. On both sides stood altar screens in Byzantine style, with saints gazing at the people coming for the sacrament in the classic pose of body turned sideways and face forward.
On the altar was placed the True Cross.
It was said that whenever the Crusaders went on campaign, if they could carry the True Cross, they would win every battle. Whether this was true is now impossible to verify. However, later generations, from film and television works, often see a wooden cross similar in size to the real instrument of execution, inlaid with gold and jewels, and thus mistakenly believe that the relic cross found by Saint Helena（ Empress of Rome） was that large—in fact, it was not.
What Saint Helena found was not a whole cross, but fragments of the True Cross. They were gathered and kept in a reliquary, which was usually stored in a secret room and only placed on the altar today. Everyone who saw this relic could not help but show irrepressible excitement, and even the usually gloomy and reserved Bohemond was no exception.
Heraclius first read two passages of scripture, basically fitting the content of Epiphany, which we will not repeat here. Then everyone prayed aloud together, hoping to receive guidance like the three sages, to walk toward the light of faith. The three sages found Jesus under God’s guidance, and they as Christians could similarly find Jesus—not the infant Jesus, but the Jesus who would descend in second glory.
Afterward, led by Amalric I, followed by Princess Sibylla, and finally Caesar acting for Prince Baldwin, they offered gold, myrrh, and frankincense to the altar in turn, and Heraclius read the offertory prayer for them.
Next, everyone received the Eucharist and recited the thanksgiving, but this time it was slightly different from before. Heraclius did not immediately take back the golden cup containing the holy blood（ wine）; instead, he filled it with clear spring water, took out a fragment from the reliquary—Caesar could feel the rapid breathing of those around him—and the monk immersed the fragment of the True Cross in the spring water three times, then took it out and distributed it for people to drink.
Caesar carried two cups back to Baldwin’s side. Previously, Baldwin would simply drink it all down, but this time he divided the water soaked with the True Cross fragment in half and gave it to Caesar.
“It has no taste.” Caesar drank it all in one gulp and commented.
Baldwin shook his head and said nothing.
At this time, the parade procession was ready. They would pass through the entire Holy City, then at morning prayer（ around five in the morning） ascend the stairs to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, escort Baldwin and Caesar into the cathedral’s hall, where the Holy Sepulchre was located, then close all the doors, leaving only them inside, awaiting the arrival of angels and saints.
This was a procession of over a hundred people, and as the parade time grew, more would join. All participants were men, all on foot. Leading were Amalric I and his subjects, along with the Grand Masters of the various Knights orders. After them were monks carrying holy images and crosses. Behind the monks should have been the Patriarch of Ayyarasa Road, but he had suddenly “fallen ill,” so Heraclius took his place.
This monk, deeply trusted by the king, kept frowning with a worried look. Closely following him were the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre, then the Knights Hospitaller and Knights Templar. The knights rarely showed worry on their faces; they cautiously kept their eyes closed, following step by step behind the monks, occasionally lifting their heads to glance at the crowds gathered on both sides of the path—the residents here and pilgrims. They had to wait until the procession had gone some distance before being allowed to follow, or they would get struck with sticks.
These pious people had been very quiet, but as dawn broke and they were about to ascend the steps to Skull Mountain, some memories were awakened. People began discussing the two boys for whom the Choosing ceremony would be held today; Caesar’s name was constantly mentioned. They did not discuss whether he would be “chosen”; their faith in Caesar was far greater than his own. “If a saint does not choose this child, whom else could they choose?” they all said.
Some also mentioned Baldwin, saying that the prince having such a noble companion proved that his leprosy was merely a trial from God, so He sent such a good person to care for him, lest he die prematurely. But others immediately retorted that who knew if a sinner might not have a guardian nearby? Perhaps precisely because he was full of sin, a saint had come to his side to sternly teach him, lest he go astray.
Geoffrey in the procession could not help but feel fortunate for the prince’s young attendant. Amalric I was almost at the Place of Suffering and could not hear these words; if he did, he would surely fly into a rage, and the speaker deserved to be hanged, and Caesar’s days would be hard—only hoping there were not too many loose-tongued people here, he thought to himself.
As he thought this, he did not notice the person ahead, and they collided—it was also that person’s fault for suddenly stopping and not continuing forward. “What happened?” Geoffrey asked. Then, with the vigilance of an old Templar Knight, he immediately pushed the person ahead aside and ran forward, only to see ahead of Amalric I a line of black-robed priests and gray-robed monks similarly holding holy images and crosses.
These priests and monks guarded a man like stars around the moon. He wore a bishop’s mitre with front and back horns, clad in a white robe and red chasuble, which was not quite right—for Epiphany, he should have worn a white chasuble.
This was of course the Patriarch of Ayyarasa Road. He had been persuaded by the envoy from the Roman Church, or rather, he had long intended this. Who would not want to become master of the Holy City? Moreover, having previously refused to treat Amalric I’s only son had already offended the king. So, what was the point of continuing to cover up and hide? Better to bring it to an end outright!
Amalric I glared angrily at the Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller—since the Choosing ceremony was to be held in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, it was essential to ensure no mishaps there. It could be said that months ago, Caesar’s asceticism and good deeds had saved them much effort; the Gerard family’s monks had gained the upper hand in the church’s internal struggles.
But as the king’s gaze swept over these priests and monks, he did not see Thomas, nor those familiar faces, indicating that Auges de Baler, entrusted by him to ensure all was well at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, had failed his expectations, giving this otherwise perfect matter a flaw from the start, and their enemies had not failed to seize this oversight accurately.
“Sinners have no right to perform any sacrament!” the Patriarch proclaimed in a voice like a great bell—but every preacher had this skill, to project their voice far whether indoors or out: “I pity you, King of Ayyarasa Road, and I pity your child, but God sees all. King, your sins outweigh your child’s by a hundredfold! A thousandfold! Ten thousandfold!
One day, Jesus went outside the city and met a leper. When he saw Jesus, he knelt and said to him, ‘If you are willing, you can make me clean.’ So the Savior placed his hand on his head and said, ‘You are clean.’ And he was indeed clean; he could enter the city and offer sacrifice on the altar.
Take note, everyone!
Jesus was mighty and full of mercy, but did he not say that leprosy is sin? He cleansed that man before allowing him into the city to perform sacraments. Did he, out of his merciful heart, let this sinner go to pollute and poison the innocent?
No!
King, your child suffers because of your sins（ Note 1）; you should atone for this sin. Ah, you say you have duties, that you must fight for God and cannot go into the wilderness, wearing a coarse haircloth cloak and barefoot in penance—this sounds lofty and reasonable, but is this confession? Is this repentance? No!”
He shouted, “This is the devil tempting you, making you cling to worldly power and fleshly ties, ignoring the salvation of your soul! Therefore, I must say…”
The Patriarch gasped fiercely but quickly: “You are lying again, sinning again! Even the Savior dared not let the unclean perform sacraments, yet you dare bring a leper here!”
He pointed sharply backward: “Had I not known, had I not come, where would this sinner go? To the place where Jesus was nailed? To the place where Jesus was taken down, surrounded by the Virgin Mary and the saints weeping? To the place where Jesus lay in rest and rose again? To let his rotting feet tread every place kissed by pious Christians?”
This caused a slight stir, as he intended.
A sly smile briefly crossed the Patriarch’s face; he stepped forward to stand before Amalric I. That face, once somewhat dignified, was now flushed and bright, his pupils shrunk to pinpoints. He saw the king had placed his hand on his belt, where a decorative short sword hung, but even decorative, it could kill. Far from fearing, he laughed: “Come on then!”
He spread his arms and shouted: “Come on, come on! At the place of the Savior’s suffering, thrust your sword into my breast! I should have them cover my face with cloth, lest I cannot bear this glory!”
Heraclius rushed up to restrain the king, urging quietly and urgently: “He’s right; he’s wearing the red chasuble!”（ Note 2） People seeing this red chasuble knew he intended martyrdom today. If Amalric I struck under all these eyes, Ayyarasa Road would truly be handed to the Church.
In fact, Heraclius had previously suggested whether, before January 6th, they could arrange for some people to control the Patriarch or reinforce the guards at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, but Amalric I had a lion-like body and courage, and also a lion-like stubbornness; he said that on Christmas Day, the Patriarch had sent an envoy with a letter.
In the letter, the Patriarch humbly and somewhat dejectedly admitted that what had befallen Prince Baldwin was merely a trial from God, not punishment. He had been swayed by some people into unrealistic delusions, but now he knew he had committed an unforgivable error. He was willing to accept punishment and have his priests treat Baldwin, as long as the king forgave him; he could become a monk in a vineyard.
Heraclius did not believe a word of the letter, but the king thought it was because the Choosing ceremony was imminent—he believed his son would surely be chosen, and if so, the Church’s claims would collapse on their own. The Patriarch’s letter was just preparing for the worst—these priests were cowards, and preemptive pleading was not strange.
He did not accept Heraclius’s suggestion.
Now, the Patriarch stood before him, every word mocking Amalric I’s foolishness.
The Patriarch panted heavily, his eyes showing some triumph, more madness. A priest suddenly seemed to notice something, whispered to him, and he showed a mocking smile: “Oh.” He said: “I see it—a sinful child and a pious child. You place him beside the sinner to deceive people’s and saints’ eyes?”
He waved, signaling the priest forward: “Quick, rescue that child; don’t let him stay with the sinner any longer!”
Note 1: People at that time believed that intercourse between spouses on the Lord’s Day（ Sunday） was a sin, and children conceived on that date would get leprosy.
Note 2:
White chasuble—purity, joy.
Red chasuble—fervor, martyrdom—the one on the Patriarch was of course the latter meaning.
