Chapter 120: First Battle
For Grand Master Philip of the Knights Templar, whether staying in Ayyarasa Road or serving King Baldwin IV on outings was a light and pleasant duty—although such a thought would have been sheer blasphemy to him just a few years ago.
And now he only wanted to smile, the kind filled with mockery and bitterness.
He was one of the most pious and steadfast knights, having sworn long ago that after fulfilling his duties and obligations, he would set out for the Holy Land to serve God—that time there were many like him, who though they had to marry and have children for family and king, govern territory or serve in court, would unhesitatingly abandon title, property, territory, wife and children the moment an heir could take his worldly position, heading straight for Ayyarasa Road.
Philip was especially respected in the Knights Templar, besides his own character and courage, because the most important fortress in his territory had been donated to the Knights Templar, a fortress Amalric I had once offered fifteen thousand gold coins for, which he refused—although Amalric I was also Lord of the Holy Land, he preferred to entrust it to a more pious man—the Grand Master at that time.
Ironically, not long after he handed that fortress to the Knights Templar—even though Amalric I had repeatedly instructed the Templar Knights to hold the stronghold firmly—it was seized by the Saracens.
If the Templar Knights in that fortress had fought to the last moment, Philip might not have been so disappointed, but in fact, shortly after the siege, the knights inside surrendered to the Saracens—when Amalric I angrily hanged those twelve vile cowards, someone hinted that he should plead for mercy, but Philip remained silent throughout, indicating his stance with silence.
Perhaps from that moment, the Knights Templar lost their final luster in his eyes.
And when did this behemoth finally reveal its naked flesh, writhing organs, and filthy veins within? Probably the day he was elected the next Grand Master, when lists, account books, contracts, and documents were laid out before him one by one.
This once-poor organization that needed two knights to share a horse had, under the connivance of the Church and monarchs, become an insatiable gold-devouring beast; he could not understand why the Templar Knights, not allowed to own private property, were still so greedy.
By that day, all the assets of the Knights Templar combined could buy a kingdom; their castles dotted not only Syria, Ayyarasa Road, and Egypt, but also Francia and the Apennines; on their own territories, they were kings and popes, with their own laws and doctrines. They collected secular poll taxes and holy tithes. They owned mills, wells, and farms; they could appoint and dismiss city officials or church priests at will.
He felt deep disappointment and fear, but after seeing all the documents, he did not even dare to entertain the idea of purging this filth, as it would mean offending the entire Knights Templar and the intricate web of lords, nobles, and bishops behind them. How many there were was unknown, but he could see this ever-growing snowball rolling downward at an unstoppable speed, until it rolled into the abyss or hell.
The young king perhaps did not know that in the Knights Templar, Grand Master Philip was the one supporting him. But to ensure peace and unity within the Knights Templar, he did not make this stance public. But from the heart, as one willing to give everything for God, he naturally preferred to fight God’s enemies, those heathens or heretics, rather than wage expedition against Mulai for worldly money.
Though the latter could also be said to defend the safety and passage of the Pilgrimage Road. But this safety was originally one of the greatest and oldest sources of funds for the Knights Templar—initially, the founders of the Knights Templar established the order only to ensure the safety of pilgrims equally pious and simple as themselves.
Before them, pilgrims often had to hire unreliable mercenaries or merchants. On the Pilgrimage Road, there were plenty of cases where mercenaries robbed pilgrims clean, killed them, or abandoned them in the wilderness, while merchants would trick them to some port and sell them directly to heathens.
Only after the Knights Templar did such situations gradually decrease.
People trusted them, were grateful to them, and thus never stingy with money and donations in hand, but worldly affairs seem always thus: money and power are a beast hard to tame, and once humans give rise to greed, they are inevitably devoured by them.
The more Philip knew, the more pain he felt, but he could not do anything to destroy the entire Knights Templar; sometimes he even had to contend with Raymond and Bohemond—for those warriors in the Knights Templar who still held pure ideals.
During the expedition to Egypt with Amalric I, he even thought of dying on the battlefield against the heathens, but regrettably, though wounded, he survived the battlefield. Until Amalric I was assassinated, Fustat burned, and they had to withdraw to Ghazalafa, he still had not found the chance to give his life for God.
He kept warning himself that this was a terribly dangerous thought.
Suicide was always a grave sin repeatedly condemned by the Church, a betrayal of God, especially self-destruction in the name of martyrdom; even if mortals could not detect or judge it, before God no crime would be hidden, and his soul would be cast into hell, unable to escape until the end of days.
Therefore, when Count Raymond of Tripoli hoped he would stay in Ayyarasa Road, he silently accepted, with little displeasure in his heart.
Of course, until then, he still did not regard the young Baldwin IV or the black-haired attendant by his side as his equals.
Though he had heard the name of that black-haired attendant, at least two elder knights in the Knights Templar—Geoffroi and Walter—had praised him and even wanted him to join the Knights Templar—even though the order only allowed nobles to become knights, if the young man was willing, they would always find ways to arrange it.
But they were all refused.
From Philip’s observations during this time, the bond between Baldwin IV and Caesar could be called pure and sincere enough; Baldwin IV trusted Caesar greatly and cherished him, while Caesar did not betray this goodwill. What most surprised Philip was that their attitude toward each other was even equal.
This was somewhat strange; they all knew Caesar’s origins were not great, and a kind superior might humbly treat those he approved of, but an inferior could hardly accept such a gift with composure—some would be flattered, others would grow annoyed—arrogance born of inferiority was not uncommon.
But he had not yet detected such emotions in Caesar.
Philip had heard that some are born knowing, as if taught by saints before birth, and Caesar seemed such a person; at his age, he might make a good servant, good escort, or good knight, but this time serving Baldwin IV to Bethlehem, he discovered he could even do what peers could not—keep the city as calm and peaceful as ever.
Do not underestimate this calm and peace; even in Ayyarasa Road, after Amalric I’s death and Baldwin’s succession, the Holy City was in unrest for months, previous order disrupted, everyone panicked like beans rolling in a hot pan, not knowing what to do or not do.
They scurried about seeking information, only wanting to know the future; unable to determine possible events, they could only imagine the worst and worry deeply. If that were all, but they also did many foolish things, attracting more ill-intentioned people for extortion, fraud…
During that time, the knights of the Knights Templar, Knights Hospitaller, and Knights of the Holy Sepulchre were busy for a while, and the gallows outside the city always had full crowds, until Baldwin completed the anointing and Coronation Ceremony, and Princess Sibylla married Abigail, son of the Duke of Antioch, did the people’s emotions gradually calm.
Though Bethlehem was only a small city, it had Christians, Isaacites, Saracens, merchants, craftsmen, and officials, as well as Bishop Andrew who originally ruled here for the king; the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre here were always under his command—as long as the new master here, the Knight of Bethlehem, could not restrain youthful impulses and committed even one rash act, even with good intentions, Bethlehem would be in unrest for a while.
Others would only see the young man as overly cowardly; only Philip, who had also been a lord, knew how difficult it was to pacify every force in the city in such a short time.
If he could continue thus, Philip thought, the prospects for Ayyarasa Road might not be so bleak.
Especially when serving Baldwin IV on outings, seeing the young pair treat the tour not as hunting or play, but seriously receiving subjects everywhere, inspecting knights, checking armory weapons and horses, a sliver of hope inevitably rose in his heart.
Seeing them was like seeing his younger self, not yet struck by harsh reality, with such pure and fervent heart.
What Ayyarasa Road now needed might be such a king and minister; even if Baldwin was still afflicted with illness, so what? If Baldwin could have an offspring in the future, or his sister Princess Sibylla could bear a child with Abigail, then this young attendant now would become the most powerful, pious, and trustworthy regent, as long as he did not change his heart.
“You have been watching us,” Baldwin said: “Do you have something to say to us?”
Philip of course could not say that seeing them reminded him of his past and present self, “Do you not find it boring?”
Though Bethlehem was a small city, its wealth and prosperity nearly rivaled Ayyarasa Road, but after leaving Bethlehem, the other small cities and fortresses were unremarkable.
Especially those small castles for military use only; from the high tower or city wall, one saw only endless yellowish-brown sandy land, gray-green plains, and clear blue sky.
Knights living in such castles saw only crude maidservants and washerwomen, few in number, and mostly very ugly, either skinny as rails or broad as barrels; from life’s torments, no different from men, sometimes even coarser and viler.
Merchants rarely visited these castles except on fixed days, as they did not fight Saracens or others, meaning no booty or spoils of war, nor ransom.
Thus, even if merchants came, they could make few trades, meaningless, only wasting food and water in vain.
Supplies in such castles were rationed; food and water were precious, of course unable to support dwarfs or musicians for entertainment.
If the knights stationed here were not martial monk orders like the Knights Templar or Knights Hospitaller, they could drown time in alcohol. But for these religious knight orders, aside from prayer and training, knights had little other pastime.
Traveling between these fortresses and castles was also arduous: dust-filled skies, dry air, scorching days and freezing nights, frequent risks of getting lost, thirst, disease—not to mention Baldwin IV being a patient.
Philip had even prepared for Baldwin suddenly collapsing, forcing them to turn back to Ayyarasa Road immediately, but the worst did not happen; they reached here, Baniel’s Makab Castle.
This castle originally did not belong to the Crusaders; it was built by local Saracens. Later seized and expanded by Crusaders.
It was in a quite critical strategic position, above the Sea of Galilee, north to Damascus, overlooking the Dead Sea and Jordan Valley; on clear days, even Ayyarasa Road could be seen.
Fortunately, the Templar Knights here had not neglected duty like those twelve hanged fools; though conditions were harsh, overall there were no major lapses, and minor issues were negligible.
“How could it not be,” Baldwin said, “I see these… Grand Master, everything here has meaning.”
Though Caesar always cared for him, with conditions thus, the young king still suffered cracked lips, rough cheeks, especially the red spots becoming prominent again, but his eyes were so bright, full of vitality, and his words carried undisguised excitement and pride.
Hearing this, the Grand Master of the Knights Templar could not help but feel heartfelt joy, but remembering his duty, he reminded: “Then, we should return tomorrow.”
Baniel’s Makab Castle was already the northernmost defensive outpost of Ayyarasa Road; further ahead was Saracen territory, moreover they had been out for a full three weeks; whatever for, they were prepared to turn back.
“You are right,” Baldwin said, with some regret, but knowing it was indeed time to return to Holy Cross Castle.
Though the Holy City had Patriarch Heraclius, not everyone could be suppressed by him.
“Who is that?”
Caesar suddenly asked as he approached.
Makab Castle was just a small fortress with one city wall, and they stood on the arrow tower by the city gate; looking out from the crenels, they saw a lightly armed knight galloping toward them; Philip narrowed his eyes, saw his panicked expression, cloak askew and bloodstained, and his face changed!
And before he could shout a question, the knight was heard shouting loudly: “Enemy attack!”
