Chapter 150: Kamal’s Plea For Help
The funeral on the second day proceeded hastily and bloodily. When the planet Venus was faintly visible, Sultan Nur al-Din’s coffin had already departed from the South Gate of Apole Castle. Fatah and the Emir, who had once followed at his side, both dispatched their soldiers. These soldiers rode fast horses galloping through every alley in Acre, scanning every door and window with eyes like falcons, ensuring they were all tightly closed.
Just the previous evening, the Grand Vizier and the Grand Scholar had both issued their respective edicts—today the people of Apollonia City must remain at home, whether for work, fetching food, or study. If their feet dared to cross the threshold, the Sultan’s soldiers had the right to chop off their heads—and indeed some did so. The previous lucky ones made their eyes red with jealousy. Whether for faith or something else, some always took the risk with a fluke mentality.
They really should not have forgotten those great figures they once revered. The latter might be negligent, but they would absolutely not repeat the same mistake. Rolling heads and spurting blood became the best warning. Whether man or woman, old or young, all now only dared to huddle in their rooms. Even the boldest only dared to press tightly against the doors and windows, peering through the gaps at the solemn and lengthy procession slowly leaving their line of sight.
Some people saw that the object now lifted onto the shoulders of sixteen pallbearers was no longer the original simple wooden coffin, but a pure white stone coffin inlaid with gold, silver, gemstones, and pearls.
He was somewhat surprised, because this was not what Nur al-Din advocated. Indeed, this stone coffin was a gift from a Franconian noble to the Sultan, to thank him for agreeing to release one of his kin. The people at the time had all clicked their tongues in wonder upon seeing it, but Nur al-Din merely stroked it once and said that this was not something the people of Allah should possess.
When our bodies rot in mud and wood, returning to the earth, our souls will ascend to heaven; but when we are entombed in this ornate stone coffin, our souls will only be imprisoned here, turning into fuel for Hell along with the things inside.
So at the beginning, no one had thought of this stone coffin. It was only because of the riot the previous day—Nur al-Din’s coffin was so badly damaged that it could no longer be used. People could only find a simpler wooden coffin to re-enshrine his holy body. But to be safe, they placed this wooden coffin inside the stone coffin.
This stone coffin was almost equivalent to ten camels, something the original pallbearers could not lift—the Eldest Prince and Second Prince did not even need to try before declaring abandonment, let alone that several of the original pallbearers were injured or even killed in the previous conflict. Therefore, the new pallbearers were almost all soldiers who had received revelations from the Prophet. Even so, the terrifying weight still pressed them almost unable to breathe, and every step seemed to leave a deep indentation on the stone bricks of Acre.
Fortunately, they smoothly arrived at Womaya Temple. In the temple’s square, the stone coffin was set down, the wooden coffin was removed, it was placed into the already dug grave, then covered with mud and leveled, after which the stone coffin was moved atop the grave and lowered.
“Nur al-Din probably would not like this practice,” one Fatah murmured.
The Grand Scholar, however, said with great displeasure, “Then he certainly would not be happy to see his body stolen by those ignorant people, who would buy them and collect them, enshrining them on altars, just like those foolish Christians do.” In their doctrine, worship of anyone or anything besides Allah was not permitted, but even the people of Acre were still deeply influenced by previous sects. These errors would require more time to correct, and it was impossible now.
The Grand Scholar took a deep breath; his heart could finally relax. Unfortunately, it was immediately raised again. The Sultan was buried, and the two Princes’ masks could finally be torn off. The mourners clearly divided into two camps.
Fortunately, as a Grand Scholar of high status, he could still firmly refuse the recruitment of the two Princes. “I must pray for the Sultan,” he said. He would remain at Womaya Temple until beyond the temple, the clash of swords rang out, along with people’s wails and cries, until the flames extinguished and the smoke dispersed, before he would step out again to bless the final Victor.
What the Grand Scholar did not know was that before Sultan Nur al-Din’s holy body was interred underground, the Christians still detained within the second gate of Apole Castle were receiving an unexpected gift.
Caesar did not know if the Saracens had a tradition of mourning their kin, but wondrously, they also had the requirement to pray for the deceased on the seventh and twenty-first days—since Sultan Nur al-Din died on Ayyarasa Road, on the seventh day they were still negotiating, even though the scholars of Ayyarasa Road rushed to pray for the Sultan—today was the twentieth day, meaning the mourning period was not yet fully over. So what was it that the now-bearded Second Prince sent?
Female slaves, young and beautiful ones of various characteristics, white, brown, and black, in a shockingly large number—fully one hundred.
A group of eunuchs herded them like dogs managing a flock of sheep, bringing them to the courtyard, then requesting that Caesar and the other Christian knights freely select.
“This is truly a magnificent gift,” Caesar said with a bitter smile.
“Not only magnificent, but also very valuable,” Geoffrey said with a mocking smile.
Was it not? There were one hundred maidens here, each wrapped in silk robes, and more dazzling than their beauty was the gleam of gold and gemstones. Each wore a collar, chest chain, bracelet, anklet, and a heavy belt.
This was truly extravagant; the jewels on these female slaves alone were worth no less than a thousand gold coins, and their own value was at least half or a third of that sum. Several exceptionally beautiful or charming ones were clearly prepared especially for Caesar and old knights like Geoffrey. The moment they saw Caesar emerge, they immediately approached, knelt before them, unveiled their faces, raised their heads, opened their arms, adopting a posture ready for the taking. Geoffrey could not help but lower his head and pinch the bridge of his nose; the other knights showed no joy either, instead appearing somewhat embarrassed.
The knights transferred from elsewhere could be overlooked, but the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre who had been serving the King in the castle had personally seen Caesar’s sister Nathia, who had made exactly the same posture at the time. Of course, this was a lesson every female slave in the Sultan’s Harem had to learn, but since they knew Caesar’s sister had once been sold here and nearly became the Sultan’s Consort—seeing this scene made it impossible to entertain any lustful thoughts.
And those who knew Nathia had been one of the harem’s female slaves—whether it was a threat, a warning, or mockery, or perhaps all three at once.
At this time, the Saracen court could not yet compare to the later Ottoman Empire. The Princes might slaughter each other, but they might also coexist peacefully—though this peace was debatable—which led to the offspring of a wise ruler possibly all being fools. At least the Second Prince, master of this group of female slaves, was certainly no clever fellow.
And since he was still alive and well to this day, it proved the Eldest Prince also had a high chance of being mediocre and incompetent; otherwise, there would be no Second Prince now. They knew the Sultan had a young son, but unless he was Baldwin IV or someone as blessed as Caesar, what could a child do?
Caesar turned to look at the young knights behind him. “We need to discuss,” he said to the eunuch who brought the female slaves. “Take them elsewhere to rest, and come back tomorrow for arrangements.”
Geoffrey stepped forward and discreetly slipped a gold ring set with sapphires into the eunuch’s hand. “Please relay to your master: this gift has left us so honored that we cannot decide in a short time, or rather,” he leaned close to the eunuch and lowered his voice, “if he has any requests, he should tell us. If the master is generous, the guests will certainly not be stingy. To be honest, only with a clear word can we determine the next step.”
The eunuch took the ring, his expression softening considerably. “I will report exactly to my master.”
When he returned and repeated it verbatim to the Second Prince, the Second Prince could not help but let out a contemptuous chuckle. “They plan to wait for the highest bidder,” he said irritably. “But they will soon discover that in Apole Castle, besides me, there will be no second such generous person.” He bit his fingernails, his face showing annoyance.
He did indeed have a considerable sum of money in hand. But this money was to bribe the Emirs, Fatah, and his father’s guards. The female slaves sent out were at his father’s expense, using maidservants and slaves from the harem, and the jewels they wore also came from his mother’s treasury.
But now the Christians’ attitude was clear: either waiting for a second bidder or forcing him to raise the price. He coveted these Christian knights greatly but was truly unwilling to strain himself for these heathens. “I heard earlier that Isaacites in Damascus colluded with bandits.”
This statement came out of nowhere, but the eunuch immediately understood. Yes, there were plenty of Isaacites in Acre too, ripe for slaughter like fattened cattle and sheep. Nur al-Din had not had time to enjoy them before meeting Allah, leaving them to his wife and sons. Now was the time to use them. “Then take my men to give them a warning,” the Second Prince said, leaning back lazily. The eunuch departed with orders.
The Second Prince slightly closed his eyes, tapping the armrest of his chair. He had never felt this favorite chair of his so narrow and cold.
He wanted to change chairs; the Sultan’s throne would be very nice.
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Caesar and Geoffrey sent the eunuch away and returned to their temporary palace, exchanging a glance and finding each other’s faces pale.
They had been in Apole Castle for nearly a week. And during this long time, even though the Imperial Court and harem were busy with Sultan Nur al-Din’s funeral, as one of the most important oral agreement terms, the release of Count Jocelin III of Edessa should have been put on the agenda no matter what, but from beginning to end, no one had come to discuss it with Caesar.
In fact, on the fourth day, Caesar had vaguely sensed something wrong. Geoffrey began to grow anxious on the fifth day. Even if Jocelin III was imprisoned in a remote fortress some distance from Acre, he should have arrived— even before the formal handover date, they should allow father and son to meet and reminisce, or even say that even if they did not allow the Christian delegation to leave Acre before Sultan Nur al-Din was buried, Jocelin III and his wife, along with Caesar, should live in the same place. That was the proper attitude toward hostages about to be released.
But even though the First Lady, Second Lady, and Third Lady, along with the three Princes they raised, each sent generous rewards and gifts—the First Lady even wrote a heartfelt letter on behalf of the Third Prince to thank him for everything he did for Sultan Nur al-Din—this letter made no mention whatsoever of Jocelin III. They seemed to tacitly set aside the matter of Jocelin III beyond the Christians’ reach.
Caesar had repeatedly requested audiences with the Grand Vizier or Grand Scholar, but all were politely refused.
Caesar had sworn to care for Jocelin III and his wife on behalf of the original owner of his body, but seeing the Saracens’ attitude, he only felt an ominous chill. He suspected the couple had met with misfortune, but what puzzled him was the behavior of the people in Apole Castle—they seemed unconcerned that the couple’s death would lead to any dire consequences, handling the matter quite calmly and perfunctorily. Did they think Caesar, Jocelin III, and his wife lacked genuine affection?
Indeed, they had been separated for over a decade, but as long as Caesar continued to possess the life, surname, and title bestowed by Jocelin III, he had the right and duty to seek Revenge for him. This was an iron rule that no one could doubt or shake.
If he did not do so, it would instead arouse suspicion. They would despise him, loathe him, expel him; he might even be unable to stay on Ayyarasa Road or any Christian land. There could be nothing more shameful. A son unwilling to avenge his father, especially when his father died by heathens’ conspiracy.
Today the Second Prince’s action further proved Caesar’s suspicion—if he intended to hire or use these Christian knights, would not the best way to win Caesar’s favor be to deliver Jocelin III and his wife before him? But he did not; he preferred to please the Christians with one hundred female slaves adorned in expensive jewels—clearly, he no longer had that most important bargaining chip.
At this time the knights had not yet dispersed; one young knight of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre even stepped forward, taking Caesar’s hand, fearing he would be struck down by the suddenly confirmed bad news. Some knights had not yet thought of this, but under their companion’s analysis understood this horrific truth. They were first shocked, then indignant, all swearing under their breath to wash away this shame for Caesar.
Caesar did indeed feel an irrepressible sorrow overflowing from his chest, but he could still think. Compared to Revenge for Jocelin III and his wife, the more important matter now was to safely withdraw from Acre. That they could remain unscathed here was not only because the Ladies and Princes could not yet openly betray their benefactors, but also an important reason—they planned to use the Christians to fight for them in the coming civil war.
But with the moment of unveiling drawing ever nearer, the time left to them grew shorter, possibly only in an instant.
Caesar immediately made a decision: “From today,” he said in a hoarse but firm voice, “everyone must wear armor at all times, keep weapons at hand, and our horses…”
Geoffrey nodded at once. As a seasoned knight, he would never keep the knights’ horses out of sight; they were stabled on one side of the courtyard. The feces and noise drew complaints from the eunuchs and female slaves, but Geoffrey did not care about these lowly servants.
Even Caesar had not expected how timely his order was; that very night, someone urgently knocked on their door.
When two knights brought the man before Caesar, even Caesar was stunned for a moment.
“Lord Kamal, how did you get here?”
