Chapter 151: Blackmail
Kamal’s hasty visit was also within Caesar’s expectations, after all, Acre at this time could fall into irretrievable chaos at any moment.
But what he didn’t expect was that Kamal only hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, firmly placing both his knees on the ground, followed by his forehead and hands; he prostrated himself before Caesar just like kneeling before a Sultan. When Caesar instinctively stepped back, he reached out and grasped the hem of this young knight’s robe, placing it to his lips.
For a moment, everyone present thought he had gone mad—he had mistakenly taken a Christian knight for the Sultan or his heir.
“You must think I’ve lost my mind.” Kamal could guess what they were thinking. He lifted his head, his face ashen, lips purple, but the words he spoke were still so firm and clear: “Lord.” He said hoarsely, “I bring you bad news.”
“Your father Jocelin III, and your mother, that respectable Armenian Princess, are both dead.”
Although he had already guessed that Jocelin III and his wife were likely doomed, upon hearing this news, Caesar and those around him still felt a heavy sinking in their hearts.
“How did they die?”
“Poisoned to death.” Kamal said quickly, “They were originally handed over by Sultan Nur al-Din to his second son and his mother, imprisoned and guarded in a fortress about a day’s journey from Acre. Although they did not receive treatment like the son of a Sultan, they could still be considered to have food and shelter without worry. Jocelin III had no ailments except for occasional coughing, while his wife was physically weak due to melancholy and difficulty moving.
But just before we entered Acre, someone took them away from that fortress. By the time we found them, they had been dead for several days.”
“Several days,” Geoffrey couldn’t help but say loudly: “So you only decided to come tell us about this now!”
“Because until today, I was also under strict surveillance.” Kamal argued: “The incident happened before we returned to Acre—if I could, I certainly would have. It would require sacrificing my honor and life, or rather, anyone who understands the stakes, upon learning of this, would inevitably do everything to prevent it—although we did not sign our names on the parchment, the Saracens also value oral agreements—what’s more, this agreement was promised on behalf of the Sultan’s three sons.”
“Then do you know who killed them? Your enemies, or our enemies?” Geoffrey stepped forward and asked aggressively.
“I don’t know, I only know that whoever did this is both your enemy and our enemy.”
“I doubt that.” Geoffrey replied coldly, “Perhaps you should know what kind of gift we received today.”
“I already know.”
As the minister once most favored by Sultan Nur al-Din, and only one step away from Grand Vizier, Kamal of course had countless informants in the court. He naturally knew what folly the Second Prince had committed.
This fool, glittering on the outside but rotten within, didn’t even know that most of these young knights had taken vows of chastity; they could not marry or approach women, let alone these women who were heathens.
He tried to bribe them by buying off those Emirs and Fatah in the same way, without any distinction, practically laying his contempt and perfunctoriness on the table; it was entirely understandable for the Christian knights to see it as a provocation or humiliation.
“I…” Caesar was silent for a long time before asking: “Then where are my father and his wife now?”
“Now with me—I must apologize to you… Lord, my abilities are limited…”
“No,” Caesar said: “You were just waiting for the Sultan to be buried, waiting for the situation in Acre to change, but now it seems this change is not what you wanted.” He said pointedly, causing guilt to surge onto Kamal’s cheeks.
Those emerald eyes flashed with dazzling light, which might be a sudden rain of grief or a storm of anger.
Kamal could understand; Caesar and his sister had been separated from Jocelin III when they were still toddlers. In the following dozen or so years, they had suffered betrayal, abduction, and endless wandering.
Caesar was the son of nobility, yet nearly became a eunuch in the harem of a Sultan or Caliph. Even though he was fortunately saved and shown tolerance by Amalric I before being castrated, in the years after, he still constantly faced attacks and contempt due to his unclear status.
Perhaps because of all the torment he had suffered before, the goddess of luck finally took pity on him, allowing his sister Nathia to leave Acre and the Sultan’s Harem by a twist of fate, sent as a gift to Ayyarasa Road.
And this girl astonishingly remembered everything entrusted by his adoptive parents, using a secret stash worth two hundred thousand gold coins, documents personally written by the Archbishop of Edessa, and signatures from a dozen noble witnesses, to prove her and her brother’s identities: she was the daughter of Jocelin III, and Caesar was the sole heir to the County of Edessa. His bloodline was noble and pious, closely tied to the King of Ayyarasa Road; in one leap, he went from a little slave to an undeniable great noble.
What kind of feelings had he carried on this journey? No son would not yearn for his father, longing to see him again, especially since Jocelin III had done everything he could. He had entered Acre at age five; if he were a coward, he might have been content with a life full of humiliation and insecurity… but he never disgraced his bloodline.
Did he not know that sending the two children out of Acre would provoke the wrath and suspicion of Sultan Nur al-Din? He couldn’t guarantee whether Nur al-Din would let him live as a hostage or send him to see God. Just for this favor alone, this young man before him would never be indifferent to the death of his father whom he had never met.
Fortunately, the Second Prince and his mother had made some remedial efforts—they had Christian priests administer last rites to the two and collected their bones—”Regarding cremation, the Saracens and Christians hold the same view—one is ‘Hell,’ the other is ‘the hell burning with great fire’.”
Being burned by fierce fire would be seen as a punishment or curse, but they couldn’t just leave this unfortunate couple unattended… so they used the method mentioned earlier—when the journey was too far to send the remains back home for burial, they would try to preserve only the deceased’s bones.
However, this mother and son’s idea was more likely to use them as an important bargaining chip after negotiations broke down. But they failed to guard the living Jocelin III properly, and now couldn’t even guard the dead; Kamal had used a few eunuchs and maidservants he bribed to swap out the remains of these two.
He admitted this was a very despicable act, but it was unavoidable—he directly called the servant following him to place a cedarwood box inlaid with brass corners before Caesar.
Used to hold the remains were two large reliquary boxes, originally made quite large perhaps to store relics like arms; the surface gilded, the top with shell carving of a cherub guarding the Ark, surrounded by exquisite pure silver decorations. Using them to bear the bones of two noble persons was not too objectionable.
Caesar lowered his head gazing at these two reliquary boxes, his fingers lightly brushing the smooth surface, as if he could still feel a trace of heat—this should be an illusion.
When Kamal entered this room, he had been very urgent, but while Caesar was lost in contemplation and mourning, he made no sound. Of course he could keep this powerful trump card and use it to threaten these Christians to work for him, but wouldn’t that prove the Saracens more base than the Christians?
Even the impetuous young King of Ayyarasa Road had not demanded ransom for Sultan Nur al-Din’s remains from them; was he to achieve his wishes by relying on a child’s love for his parents?
He couldn’t do it.
“What do you want?” Caesar asked.
“The Eldest Prince has made his move.” Kamal said. Unfortunately, the Second Prince was no fangless dog either; he immediately clashed with his brother, their supporters launching frenzied searches and killings. Perhaps before dawn came again, a Victor could be decided in Apollonia Castle.
Not to mention, they still had a brother, though still a child, his adoptive mother was the most prestigious and powerful woman in the harem—the First Lady.
“I hope you can rescue some people.”
If it were just Kamal alone, his chances of escape were still high. But the problem was, there was also a group of ministers; these ministers might not all be scholars, but each certainly possessed admirable character and knowledge. In the past, these were the pillars and steeds valued by Sultan Nur al-Din.
When Nur al-Din was alive, they were respected, even the princes had to yield before them, but in such chaos, they were very likely to be the first sacrifices—they had all refused the princes’ overtures like Kamal, leaving them without protection in the riots—any soldier might chop off their heads.
“You want us to take them with us?”
“This is not entirely without benefit for you.” Kamal hurriedly explained, “Among them are scholars, and others who, though not scholars, are still respected and beloved by people. On this journey, if you encounter other Emirs or Fatah soldiers, they might let you go for this reason.
I will tell them that I hired you.”
“It might also attract more pursuers.” Geoffrey ruthlessly interrupted him, “The Eldest Prince’s men harbor ill intentions toward you. The Second Prince’s men also seem unwilling to let you go; the moment you refused their invitation, you became their enemies—no, worse than enemies, you are rebels.
No matter what talents and knowledge those people you mentioned have, if they can’t be used, they are just trouble waiting to happen.
Now, whether one of them wins or even before they win, there will be pursuers behind you until they kill you.”
Geoffrey’s gaze fell on that reliquary box, “You brought a calamity, one caused by you Saracens. You won’t be hated by us, but you can’t earn our gratitude either. You were the first to break the previous agreement, and I see no benefit to us in the suggestion you’re making now?
What you say is only a possibility; if we leave now, not necessarily anyone would notice a group of Christian knights’ whereabouts.
But if there is also a group of people already on the death list…”
Geoffrey glanced outside; they could already hear faint sounds of killing, see flickering, unsteady firelight. A thought suddenly rose in his mind; he abruptly turned to Kamal: “You’ve already done it! Haven’t you!”
Kamal had already brought those ministers unwilling to submit to the sons of the Sultan here; he might even have arranged for people, so if the Christians refused his request, he would lead those rebellious Saracens here, where the Christians might be killed or taken prisoner.
If the New Sultan were established in a peaceful environment, he might still honor the oath Kamal had given on his behalf, treating them as benefactors and guests, letting them safely return to Ayyarasa Road.
But now the Eldest Prince and Second Prince had clearly torn all pretense; everyone knew the New Sultan would surely harm his own blood kin, possibly more than one. In that case, how could one expect him to show due benevolence and tolerance to a group of heathens who were also enemies?
The room was silent, only heavy, prolonged breathing audible. Caesar picked up the reliquary box and looked at the indignant knights: “Take action.”
This startled even Geoffrey, and made some knights think they misheard, as Caesar actually ordered them to first go to the female slaves’ quarters—to do some necessary preparations.
These female slaves sent by the Second Prince had all been arranged by eunuchs elsewhere, but not far from where the knights were, separated from the courtyard by only a low wall; earlier there had even been female slaves dancing and singing.
When the knights swarmed in, they were quite pleased—at least better than serving a frail old Sultan or a temperamental New Sultan, a Christian knight was not a bad choice. But they showed no interest in them at all, arriving in a rush and leaving in a rush.
Taking only the gold from their bodies.
