Chapter 131: Son Of Count Joscelin Iii Of Edessa
Jocelin III.
He had no territory, no army, and he himself was even under Zengi’s supervision, but for this special figure, Zengi did not execute him or force him to convert. Anyone versed in politics could understand the implications. His son Sultan Nur al-Din even found him an Armenian noble lady to marry when Jocelin was sixteen years old.
This Armenian noble lady had also been captured in war; she was a daughter of Ruben II. Of course, King Ruben II of Armenia had many children, and this princess was not particularly valued. On her way to marriage, she was captured along with her handmaid—out of malice toward her brother, Mulai sold the princess to a slave merchant.
After several transfers, she arrived at Sultan Nur al-Din’s court, and at that time Jocelin III was already sixteen years old. To avoid raising questions about inheritance rights to his children, Nur al-Din deliberately selected a Christian wife for him. This Armenian princess bore Jocelin III two children: a daughter Nathia, and their only son Jocelin IV.
“My father has lived in a Saracen prison since he was five years old. Although Sultan Nur al-Din was a benevolent monarch who required those around him to treat my father like a prince, how could a prisoner ever gain true freedom?
I was very young then, but I still remember the man called my father. He was thin and pale, melancholic, not like a living person but like a shadow that might dissipate at any moment.
He often wandered the corridors connecting the palace rooms like a ghost. I almost never saw him smile—except when he saw my brother,” she glanced at Caesar. “At one point, he seemed to make a decision. I don’t know how he did it, but that very night, my mother gave me a sleeping potion, and along with my brother, when I woke up, we were in a box. The carriage’s jolting woke me, and my brother was in my arms, then he started crying.
At that moment, someone opened the box lid, and light came in. They were the two most loyal servants in Edessa—one of them a blessed knight who had followed my grandfather, and the other handmaid had been my grandmother’s handmaid. They took us and escaped Edessa with forged documents.
By then Nur al-Din had learned of our escape, and he flew into a rage, ordering his soldiers to search everywhere for our adoptive parents.
We had nowhere to go and had to temporarily settle in a remote little village…”
“But you had already escaped. You could go to Antioch, or Tripoli, or Nalessa—any Christian city. Why not?” Abigail foolishly asked.
This time David couldn’t help but elbow him.
Nathia glanced at him, confirming he was indeed a fool: “My brother and I were probably only three years old then, at most four. It was already hard enough for our adoptive parents to find a village that would let us stay temporarily. It had nearly exhausted all their strength. If not for Nur al-Din falling seriously ill twice at that time, I probably wouldn’t have lived to nine—let alone taking two children from Acre to Antioch…”
Abigail’s foolish question exposed how outrageously ignorant he was.
The Syrian region at that time had no wide roads or fast means of transport like today. With a pair of fragile young children, crossing the turbulent war-torn areas, barren deserts without a blade of grass, and wastelands roamed by bandits and beasts—even as the chosen one, a knight could endure hunger, cold, thirst, and endless fatigue—but children? How long could children endure?
“So how did you end up sold as slaves? Did your adoptive parents betray you?” Queen Mother Maria asked.
“No, they were two utterly loyal people who kept their oaths to my grandparents and parents. They raised us as if we were their own children. But as you said, when I had grown somewhat and my brother had passed his eighth birthday, they had to make a choice—find a way to contact those willing to save and help us.”
“Because of the Choosing ceremony.” Patriarch Heraclius said, and people nodded slightly. Indeed, they could ensure the two children grew up safely and teach them. No need to say more—their adoptive mother was also a noble lady, otherwise she couldn’t have been the princess’s handmaid.
But now in the Syrian region ruled by Saracens, how could they find a Christian church to hold the Choosing ceremony for the young master who had grown up?
This ceremony had an age limit of nine to fourteen years. They couldn’t wait until the last year to consider it.
“I only know that in those months, my adoptive father was always anxious and irritable, though he tried not to let us see it. I could feel it. He kept sending letters out and waiting day and night for replies. Then one day, he happily told me that a man had found our father Jocelin III, entrusted by our grandfather Joscelin II to help us.
They would take us back to Christian countries—though the County of Edessa no longer existed, whether Antioch, Tripoli, or Ayyarasa Road, we had a place there. My brother could hold his Choosing ceremony at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and I could choose a suitable husband for myself.
He even said that perhaps soon after, we could meet our father Jocelin III. Was Nur al-Din such a generous man? Of course not. But my father managed to send me a letter saying he had put his life in the hands of his ally.
Though Edessa had fallen, and he and his father were both Saracen prisoners, the wealth they had amassed before was not completely plundered.
His ally would send people to take us and this money, then use it to ransom my father. Nur al-Din’s rule in Edessa was becoming stable, and a child who left Edessa and its people at five would no longer influence it—this bargaining chip was no longer useful. So the Sultan might agree to let them ransom my father.”
“Who was the ally your father mentioned?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“The letter?”
“It was taken. At the moment I realized we were betrayed.”
“Betrayed—note that you are accusing a Christian.” Raymond said darkly.
“I don’t know if it was his orders or if the people he sent weren’t loyal, but they took us to the treasure place, saw the money there, and immediately killed my adoptive parents.
Then they sold my brother and me to Isaac slave merchant. After passing through two or three more hands, I ended up back at Sultan Nur al-Din’s court.” At this point, a cold smile appeared on her lips. “It really does seem like the devil’s prank.”
“Is what she said true?” Heraclius asked, but he was asking the Saracen envoy.
The envoy glanced at Caesar. He truly hadn’t expected—this kind Christian knight to be Jocelin III’s son: “As far as I know, Count Jocelin III of Edessa was indeed treated like a prince at Sultan Nur al-Din’s court. He did marry an Armenian Christian woman and had two children, but I can’t confirm what happened afterward.”
“You say your current birth certificate is fake,” Patriarch Heraclius turned to Nathia: “Where is the real birth certificate?” Without a birth certificate, no one here would believe her no matter what she said. She could even be executed for impersonating the king’s relative, and Caesar would be ridiculed. So at this point, the Patriarch’s tone was very stern.
“I have it—not only my birth certificate, but also the marriage certificate sent with it. It has the Archbishop’s signature, my parents’ signatures and seals—and the witnesses’.”
“Where?”
“In the real treasure place.” At this, a thoroughly satisfied smile appeared on Nathia’s face. “The knight and servants sent by that traitor didn’t know that when my grandfather built this treasure place, he borrowed an Eastern design with true and false rooms. The money they saw was only a small part.
This way, even if someone accidentally found the treasure place, or encountered a situation like ours, they would only take the outer things and not notice the hidden place—as long as you send people there to pry open the layer of mud and bricks and stones on the north wall, you will see the second secret room.”
“The marriage certificate and birth certificates are all inside?”
“These are the real treasures, aren’t they?”
“Why didn’t they kill you?”
“They didn’t, though I don’t know why.” Nathia shook her head.
“Perhaps because of the oath.” King Baldwin IV said steadily: “I remember my teacher once taught me that the oath I swore with Caesar is not only binding on Caesar and me; its power will extend to our offspring.
Just like the contract between that upright knight and the king he served—even far from his homeland, he must fulfill his duties as one party to the contract without fail. And when he died, and his wife and children came seeking the king’s protection, the king showed no slackness or disgust.
You could say both were people of high virtue—except one is suspected of killing his own brother and younger brother…
These words made everyone present show strange expressions. Clearly, Jocelin III was betrayed, but he wasn’t foolish enough to leave no backup. Perhaps the contract stipulated something—making the other party have to honor the oath. At least he couldn’t be directly involved; he could only sell Jocelin III’s son and daughter to a slave merchant.
They were only nine then; even if they remembered their status, they might not dare say it—besides, compared to Nathia—Caesar remembered, he always firmly remembered the scene. For merchandise like him, the slave merchant should cherish him enough. Whether in Mosul, Syria, or Egypt, he was worth a lot of money.
But he had a high fever and was barely breathing, yet the merchant insisted on castrating him, not even willing to wait a few more days—clearly wanting him dead.
But that’s not surprising. Nathia was just a girl, and he was a boy.
Those present probably guessed the reason—hey, before Caesar gained Baldwin’s trust, those servants said some nasty things—their eyes scanned each other, Raymond’s the sharpest.
Though he had never thought much of Caesar, that was because of his unclear origins. Now he might be the only son of the Count of Edessa, so his mood became complicated.
“Where is the place you mentioned?” Baldwin IV asked. Nathia immediately gave a place name, then requested the king give her pen and paper; she could draw a rough map. “You remember it that clearly?” Raymond couldn’t help asking.
“I trace this map in my mind every night, Lord, for thousands of days and nights. I never forgot.”
With this rough map, finding the place wouldn’t be difficult—even if it was still in Saracen territory. They just hoped it hadn’t collapsed or been discovered by others.
“Caesar stays by my side these days.” Baldwin said, then he hesitated. Queen Mother Maria immediately took over: “She stays with me.” She would free up a room and send her most trusted handmaid to serve her, living and rising with her—both close surveillance and control, and helping her quickly familiarize herself with the castle’s people and life.
Nathia silently accepted the Queen Mother’s kindness. Before leaving, she gazed at Caesar for a long time, almost unable to move her feet.
Then she saw Baldwin IV reach out his hand and clasp his tightly, before turning her head with a light smile.
A few days later, the knights brought back glad news. Perhaps by God’s protection, the cave used as the treasure place hadn’t collapsed or been discovered by locals, only half-buried by wind and sand. The knights dug it out and indeed found the second treasure place where Nathia said.
The property inside was preliminarily estimated at around two hundred thousand gold coins. So as Joscelin II said, this money was more than enough to ransom him, but he didn’t fully trust that ally. If those people took the first place’s wealth and fulfilled the promise, he would of course tell the ally about the second secret room when the ally complained the money was insufficient.
But if, as now, the other side planned to betray him from the start, at least the second place’s money would allow him to make a comeback; he wouldn’t end up with nothing.
The marriage certificate and birth certificates were also found, and people gathered again to take turns viewing them.
But gradually, a discordant note arose in the murmurs—since the previous birth certificate was fake, was it possible these two birth certificates were real, but the people were fake?
