Chapter 183: Arslan Ii’s Envoy
Raymond glared at his son, unable to speak.
A strong sense of remorse washed over him.
Raymond had to admit that he might have made a wrong move before. After Baldwin was diagnosed with leprosy, he had ordered his son to leave Baldwin and return to his side without any hesitation, strictly forbidding them from contacting each other again.
He knew his actions were somewhat base and cruel, and would even cause Amalric I to be displeased with him or question him, but he had to do it. David was not just his son; he was the heir to Tripoli and the continuation of the family lineage.
And even if he disregarded David’s safety and left him by Baldwin’s side, what would he do when Baldwin was expelled from Holy Cross Castle and became a monk in a monastery?
If David continued to stay in Holy Cross Castle and participate in the Choosing ceremony to become a knight, people would think he had betrayed his lord and was a disloyal fellow, deserving of scorn. But if he were to continue to follow Baldwin—should he also become a monk? To live in isolation, alone and desolate, to spend his bleak latter years under the hateful and fearful gazes of others.
Raymond did not possess such noble sentiments. He believed that although his decision was… despicable, it was only human nature.
But fate always liked to toy with humans. No one would have expected that Amalric I would go so far as to oppose the two major churches of Rome and Ayyarasa Road for his son. Not only did he refuse to acknowledge his son’s affliction as a punishment from God, but he also forcefully held the Choosing ceremony for him.
And like a devilishly crafted prank, Baldwin, a leper, a sinner destined to fall into hell, actually received God’s blessing. Not only that, but the favor he received was so profound and powerful that when Amalric I proudly reinstated all his privileges and rights, no one could easily object.
He thought then that he should send David back to Baldwin’s side. After all, the prince had proven that this was not a punishment from God, but a trial from God.
But who could have foreseen that Baldwin’s personality was completely different from Amalric I’s? He was unwilling to forgive or compromise. He sternly refused everyone’s apologies, keeping only the servant, who was of slave origin, by his side.
Raymond was angry, but he didn’t think there was no room for negotiation. After all, Amaury I was in his prime then, and had married a Byzantine princess. Princess Maria was so young and could bear Amalric I more sons, and God’s blessing had not healed Baldwin. Who would eventually sit on the throne was still uncertain?
But damn it all, who would have thought that an expedition would claim Amalric I’s life—Raymond was completely caught off guard. When he wanted to probe the young monarch’s intentions, he was ruthlessly refused, just like last time.
He even wanted to question the king, how could he be so willful? Even if Caesar’s status was different now, and he was his blood relative, he was still only one person, not possessing a thousand arms and a thousand eyes. How could he replace all the ministers and generals in the Imperial Court?
Fortunately, Patriarch Heraclius remained clear-headed. Under his persuasion, Baldwin finally agreed to re-accept his companions, though without the trust and enthusiasm of the past.
David was an upright and resolute good child. He couldn’t see Baldwin as a monarch like others did, and still longed to rebuild their friendship. He would feel dejected and sad because of Baldwin’s alienation. Raymond watched this child grow up, and the few times he had looked sad over the past decade were due to being invisibly isolated from Baldwin and Caesar.
For this reason, Raymond had been supporting and encouraging him to approach Baldwin. He believed that as time passed, Baldwin would surely remember their past affection and truly recognize that young men like David were the ones he could most rely on in the future, not fools like Abigail, or… suspicious individuals like Caesar.
Regarding the death of Caesar’s parents, there were still many speculations in the city of Ayyarasa Road. Raymond had always firmly sided with suspicion—although two hundred thousand gold coins were indeed a vast fortune, they were nothing compared to a distinguished background. He did not believe that such a coincidence truly existed in the world, and moreover, there had not been a single living witness to come forward and prove Caesar’s innocence so far.
But he had truly overlooked one thing: that in their long association, while Baldwin could discover how outstanding, pious, and noble his son David was, David could also be genuinely influenced by these two.
After the great victory in the Battle of the Sea of Galilee, Baldwin had become the most revered monarch among the people of Ayyarasa Road. His title had changed from Saint Godfrey to Saint George.
Of course, the knights’ favorite person was still Caesar. He was simply a perfect knightly model—brave, fearless, humble, pious, generous, and selfless.
He treated everyone—even his former enemies—with such tolerance and justice. If that were all, it would be fine, but he was also so pure, so handsome. Just by standing there, he was an immaculate holy image—even though Raymond firmly believed this was merely his pretense, it still couldn’t stop him from being loved by most people, and among them was his foolish son.
David was completely unaware of Caesar’s presence. It was difficult for them to be in the closest proximity to Baldwin and become his confidants. They would forever only be his cattle, tools, and chess pieces. Baldwin would not show them the slightest mercy or care, nor would he share power with them.
But for Raymond, if it were just this, it would be fine. He could even accept David giving all the spoils of war he had obtained in this campaign, including those blacksmiths, to the knights under his command. He did not wish to hear that he had carelessly discarded such considerable assets.
If he were to emulate Caesar and distribute his spoils to his subordinates, he would earn their loyalty and affection. By letting these people go for nothing, what else would he gain besides a few hollow thanks?
He would gain nothing.
If people praised his kindness, others would surely mock him. They would say that he had merely released seven blacksmiths. Could he be compared to the king and the saint in the city of Ayyarasa Road?
His actions were meaningless and would only be mocked as a clumsy imitation.
David was confused. He didn’t quite understand why his father had such a troubled expression.
Raymond couldn’t be bothered to explain to his son. David wanted to argue, but Raymond stopped him with a raised hand.
“You are wrong,” he said. “They do not belong to you yet, David. The commander of this expedition is our King Baldwin IV. All spoils of war, captives, and slaves belong to him. If you wish to release them and save these unfortunate people, you should do so after Baldwin has rewarded you, not now—you are too impulsive.”
David shook his head resolutely, “Baldwin will only be happy.”
Raymond felt exhausted. “This is my last lesson for you, David. He is no longer your friend. A monarch has no friends, only subjects. You must remember this clearly, at all times.
Even if he personally says you are his friend, his brother, and willing to share everything with you, you must never agree—let alone…” He glanced at his son sarcastically and uttered an extremely cutting remark, “You are no longer his friend.
To him, you are just a traitor.”
——————————
“Good news.”
“What?”
“Raymond of Tripoli achieved a great victory, and Mulai was captured.”
Baldwin and Caesar were not surprised. After all, for this expedition, Raymond had already eliminated all weaknesses beforehand. The Turkish Sultan who had once sheltered Mulai had also become a defeated dog. The outcome of this battle was entirely within expectations; it would have been strange if they had failed.
Baldwin read the letter for Caesar: “They also discovered an iron mine that Mulai had hidden, as well as many Christian, Saracen, and Isaacite slaves,” he paused slightly. “In the workshop near the iron mine, there were seven blacksmiths. This is truly a great fortune,” he said as if to himself.
“He wrote that David fought very bravely. A despicable person shot an arrow at him. He was not hit, but his horse died because of it. Everyone at the time worried about his life.
Unexpectedly, this young knight leaped up, lifted his mount, and threw it at those Turks, charging them in reverse.”
Reading this, a smile appeared on Baldwin’s face. He was indeed displeased with David, Abigail, and others for their betrayal, but he also knew that David was not as bad as other boys.
In fact, without him and Caesar, David could be considered the most upright and pure among the young knights. And David had always felt guilt towards him. He could almost guarantee that if Raymond had not strictly forbidden it, and if his father had also refused David’s request, David would have stayed by his side, and even if he had entered a monastery, David would have become a monk with him.
Now, he could no longer be on intimate terms with David or trust him implicitly, but he was still willing to regard him as a good relative and subject. Seeing his achievements, he was also greatly gratified. He had even prepared himself, and if Raymond proposed that this place become David’s fief, he would agree.
Although David would undoubtedly inherit Tripoli in the future, this place was not far from Tripoli, separated only by Antioch. Moreover, it could also be reached by sea. David could even manage this exclave as a stable foothold for the County of Tripoli while Count Raymond of Tripoli could still handle state affairs and fight battles.
He picked up the map drawn by Caesar and examined it carefully, comparing it. At the same time, a trace of greed arose in his heart—if they could not only rescue Emperor Manuel I of the Byzantine Empire this time, but also repel Arslan II of the Sultanate of Rum, would it be possible to cut out a piece from the territory occupied by Arslan II and give it to Caesar?
His gaze involuntarily shifted to the east of the Sultanate of Rum. The Sultanate of Rum bordered Syria, which was also the reason for their constant conflict. This area belonged to Caesar, the former County of Edessa. He did not have such great ambitions as to reclaim the entire Edessa for Caesar, but he could at least find a foothold for Caesar—a few cities, or perhaps a few fortresses.
He believed that with Caesar’s abilities, he might be able to reclaim his original territory in four or five years, especially now that Acre was in chaos. Caesar would not have to worry too much about Bethlehem. Bethlehem was very close to Ayyarasa Road. If Caesar were fighting in Syria, Baldwin could fully manage that small city for him.
And by the time Caesar reclaimed Edessa, perhaps he would have already expanded his territory in Ayyarasa Road considerably—at least to Damascus. By then, they could join forces to attack Acre and Mosul…
Baldwin’s thoughts drifted, completely oblivious to the fact that he had been silent for quite some time.
“What are you thinking about?” Caesar moved the candle closer to him.
“I was thinking…” Baldwin pondered for a moment, but still did not reveal his ambitions to Caesar—perhaps it was because an ominous thought crossed his mind—he might not be able to wait that long.
“I have ordered them to send Mulai here, and then transfer him to Ayyarasa Road.”
“Why not send him directly to Ayyarasa Road?”
Caesar could fully understand not executing Mulai directly. After all, Mulai had sworn oaths before holy images and crosses before joining the Knights Templar and becoming one of their “brothers.” He had not only broken his oath and escaped the Knights Templar, but had also surrendered to their former enemies and converted to their faith.
Not only that, but like a dog that had returned to the wolf pack, he began to unscrupulously plunder those pilgrims, especially those protected by the Templars. His various wicked deeds had enraged the Templars, and more than one person had sworn to fast for a whole year or wear sackcloth （ coarse linen clothes ） if they did not behead him.
More people, such as Walter, believed that they should not give Mulai too swift a death. They should capture him, inflict upon him some of the most terrible tortures in the world, and then send him to meet the devil.
In that case, even if there were Templars in Raymond’s army, they could not overrule the orders of their Grand Master, and the Grand Master was unwilling to deal with it so hastily. Therefore, sending Mulai back to Ayyarasa Road became a necessary procedure.
But why send him to the king?
“Mulai is an extremely cunning fellow,” Caesar said. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll escape on the way?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. They have already pierced his ankles and shoulders with iron spikes. As for why I asked them to send Mulai here, it’s because…” Baldwin smiled slyly, “I’ve always wanted Mulai to see you in person. He probably doesn’t know until now that the person he saw back then was not Abigail, the son of the Duke of Antioch.”
Caesar was truly amused and exasperated by some of Baldwin’s whims. Fortunately, their army was not far from Mulai’s territory. Mulai was delivered to Baldwin IV’s tent the next day.
As soon as he saw Caesar standing beside Baldwin, his eyes widened, and he wore an expression of disbelief. Although six full years had passed since he last saw Caesar, such a beautiful child was truly unforgettable. Moreover, even though his body had grown and his shoulders had widened, his black hair and emerald eyes remained unchanged, still so pure.
He had heard before about a black-haired, blue-eyed attendant by the heir of Ayyarasa Road. But back then, and even before today, he had not connected the two. The main reason was that the child he saw back then showed no hint of the humility and timidity befitting a servant or slave.
He behaved completely like a prince.
Mulai might have wanted to say something else, but Baldwin, who had seen enough of his shocked expression, simply waved his hand. The attendant beside him gagged Mulai and dragged him away.
“Satisfied, huh?” Caesar said.
Baldwin gave Caesar a triumphant expression.
Being able to remove Mulai, that stubborn nail filled with poison, was naturally a gratifying matter.
After that, they continued to capture two more small fortresses and drove out the villagers from several villages.
This was not because they intentionally indulged the soldiers in evil deeds. These villages belonged to the Turks. If the army passed by and left them unattended, these Turks would soon organize into scattered groups to intercept and harass them.
This was not what Caesar wished for, but it was unavoidable. Moreover, this was the best outcome they could achieve.
In the past, according to the habits of the Crusaders, by the time the flames rose in the villages, countless stiff corpses would have already fallen inside. Although their money was now stolen and their houses burned, at least no one had killed them or captured them as slaves to be sold, which could be considered quite fortunate.
After the army marched on for several more days, such situations became less frequent.
This was because those villages had already undergone a thorough cleansing before they arrived. They had entered the no-man’s-land that Arslan II of the Sultanate of Rum had created for Emperor Manuel I of Byzantium.
The previously polluted spring and well water had now regained some clarity. Therefore, some people still drank the water that had been sprinkled with plague. Fortunately, Caesar had issued a command through Baldwin, prohibiting anyone from drinking unboiled water. Only a few soldiers contracted dysentery.
That was also because they did not listen to advice and drank the water directly, seeing that its quality seemed acceptable. It did not pose any threat to the entire army.
At this point, they had also engaged in several battles with the army of Arslan II. These troops were dispatched by Arslan II to intercept the supply lines of the Byzantine Empire. With their assistance, the Byzantine Empire could finally reconnect this vital artery.
At the same time, the Crusaders of Ayyarasa Road also received a large amount of supplies. The Empress of Manuel I officially sent envoys with gold and silk to thank the King of Ayyarasa Road for his noble act.
Baldwin tried to inquire about Manuel I’s condition, mainly wanting to know how many capable generals his army of over ten thousand men had, how many cavalry, infantry, and laborers, and whether they had sent any letters before. Besides their current besieged location, were there any other scattered Byzantines in other areas that needed aid?
He asked a series of questions, but the envoy stammered, their expression bitter, unable to say anything.
Faced with this situation, Baldwin felt helpless. He dismissed the envoy and chose a suitable location to encamp.
That evening, the administrator of a nearby city came to surrender to them. From him, he learned some of the real situation and also that Arslan II’s army was about a day and a night’s ride away from them.
“Do you think—does Arslan II know we’ve arrived?” Baldwin propped his head with one hand, gazing at the map hanging on the side of the tent by the faint candlelight.
“I think so. We are not far from where Emperor Manuel I of Byzantium is besieged.”
“When do you think their envoy will arrive?”
“Probably in the next day or two.”
The next day, the soldiers received a rather peculiar order: they were required to set up more tents. If they didn’t have enough tents, they were to build a rough shape with branches and cover it with cowhide or horsehide.
And at night, they lit torches and stuck spears near the torches, letting the sharp blades reflect the light of the flames. When the sun set and night fell, the entire mountainside would appear like a field of twinkling stars.
At the same time, he requested a large quantity of cattle and sheep from the Byzantine merchant caravan, which were cooked in pots, day and night, so that even people hundreds of miles away could smell the enticing aroma.
Therefore, when the envoy of Arslan II set out for the camp of the King of Ayyarasa Road, he had not yet seen his flag and army, but had already smelled the rich aroma in the air. By the time they arrived among the army, they saw tents like moss, covering the entire land in just a few nights. And when they met the king and departed, the stars on the ground had accompanied them almost all the way.
The more they looked, the more their hearts were filled with dread, fearing the generosity of the King of Ayyarasa Road, or the wealth of the Byzantine Empire.
How many soldiers did they bring this time? Ten thousand, twenty thousand, or like Emperor Manuel I of Byzantium’s thirty thousand, or even more?
The envoy’s expression became grave. He did not dare to linger for a moment, only eager to rush back and report this news to his Sultan as soon as possible.
