Chapter 189: Cry For Help
People who had not yet fully sunk into the swamp saw them and immediately let out shrill cries for help. Some unlucky fellows even sank a bit further because their calls were too loud—their cries instantly became more panicked and despairing. Fortunately, although the knights did not have ropes with them at this time, even if they were not wearing cloaks, they would have a robe that reached to the knee. They quickly untied their robes, then cut them into long strips with daggers, tied them together, and threw them toward the people in the swamp.
A Byzantine noble closest to the edge of the swamp grabbed a cloak thrown to him by a knight and arduously climbed ashore. His first words afterward were not thanks, but: “…The Emperor… the Emperor has sunk.”
“Where did he fall? Is that garment his? Are you sure he’s right below?” Caesar asked three questions in a row. After getting a definite answer, he nodded slightly to Baldwin. Under the incredulous gazes of the crowd, he stepped onto a dry log suspended above the swamp. He calculated the distance, leaped forward, covering about ten feet, and landed right next to the half-sunken, half-floating purple silk robe.
The mud there was already extremely soft, with almost no bearing capacity. Although Caesar had removed his chainmail before leaping into the swamp, his whole body still sank sharply. The filthy water immediately reached his waist, but he showed no sign of panic. Instead, he immediately bent down and plunged his hands into the mud.
At first, besides slimy fish, wriggling insects, thick moss, duckweed, and water plants, he grabbed nothing.
And as he moved, he himself sank further—he had involuntarily taken two steps toward the swamp. Baldwin, who had been grabbed by someone, waved his hand. Under the other’s anxious gaze, he conducted a third search—this time his little finger touched something hard. He immediately grabbed it in reverse, and from the feel alone, he knew it was a round metal brooch. The brooch was very large, connecting the two pieces of cloth. He immediately guessed it was one of the garments most commonly worn by nobles of the Byzantine Empire.
It was a rectangular cloak. When worn, people only exposed one arm, while hiding the other arm along with the body under the cloak. This cloak was generally made exceptionally thick. Regardless of whether the base was cotton or silk, it would be covered with heavy gold and silver embroidery, sometimes inlaid with gemstones and pearls.
Caesar’s heart immediately filled with joy, and he continued probing downward.
He touched an arm, but further down, he could no longer maintain his current posture. He looked at Baldwin and made a gesture. Baldwin was clearly hesitant, but in the end, he gravely half-knelt down. He prayed to his saint, and Saint George’s Spear reappeared in his hand.
People were astonished and uncertain. Whether the knights who had come with them or the Byzantine nobles they had rescued, none understood what Baldwin meant by summoning his Saint George’s Spear at this time. Was it because enemies had come? Or beasts in the forest? They immediately grew tense and looked around, but the fir forest was silent, with nothing they needed to guard against.
Baldwin reached out and gripped Saint George’s Spear. He slightly lowered his head, estimating the distance to Caesar. Then he leaned back slightly and fiercely hurled the brilliant spear—toward Caesar.
Someone cried out in alarm, thinking the King of Ayyarasa Road had suddenly gone mad, but only Bohemond knew that even if he had gone mad, the young King of Ayyarasa Road would not harm his close friend and blood relative.
He hurriedly set down a noble he had just pulled up and quickly walked to Baldwin’s side.
The spear flew about a third of the distance across the swamp, then stopped—stopped in the literal sense. It neither fell nor dissipated, but hovered in the air like a spear with real substance. Needless to say, people were dumbfounded, especially when they saw Caesar actually reach out to touch the spear.
The Byzantines might not know clearly, but almost everyone from Ayyarasa Road knew that the Saint George’s Spear summoned by Baldwin was an extraordinarily wondrous grace.
When in combat or simply presented before people, it seemed to truly exist. But if someone dared to touch it, they would feel pain as if burned by flame and could not grasp it, like a phantom—and when they took its master into a room（ at that time Baldwin was in a coma）, it indeed passed through the thick door and stone bricks.
Later, Amalric I had also tried touching the spear when Baldwin was awake, but the result was the same.
Others were the same, whether the Countess of Jaffa or Patriarch Heraclius.
But they never knew Caesar could be the exception. Not only that, when Caesar’s finger touched the holy spear, it even emitted a pleasurable humming sound, as if delighted to be used by him, even if not for combat.
Caesar removed his belt, looped one of its buckles onto Saint George’s Spear, then wrapped the other end around his wrist. He took a deep breath and let his body sink down. The resistance from the silt and water was great, but he was not trying to dive to the bottom of the swamp.
Although Manuel I had sunk, it had been for a short time, only a few feet from the muddy water surface. But at this depth, Caesar alone could not pull him up with his strength—or rather, pulling him up directly might cause the Emperor to dislocate or even break his body.
At this point, Baldwin standing at the swamp’s edge had spread his arms. He prayed, and Saint George’s Spear returned to his hand, responding to his calling.
It skimmed over the black water surface and plunged straight into his chest. For an instant, people were so horrified they could not cry out—not to mention those from the Byzantine Empire, even the people of Ayyarasa Road were seeing such a holy relic for the first time.
Was this the saint’s tolerance for the devout, or the holder’s trust in his “companion”?
Presumably, many people had such questions in their hearts at this moment, but immediately their attention was drawn to the two drenched figures being dragged ashore. Although not wearing a crown, and with their faces obscured by tangled water plants and disheveled hair, the people of the Byzantine Empire still immediately recognized that it was their Emperor.
Their priests immediately rushed over, wanting to save their monarch. They took turns pouring holy white light into the cold body, but got no response.
Manuel I lay there motionless, his face pale, eyes tightly closed. A priest stood up, eyes toward the sky, arms raised. “He is dead!” he announced. “The Emperor, Manuel I, is dead!”
The people of the Byzantine Empire once again let out a wail of grief.
Other priests also began praying for their Emperor, and some asked the knights if they had relics, a Bible, holy water, or holy oil to administer last rites to Manuel I.
Although Manuel I had not had time for confession, they could assume he had done so.
Caesar hesitated for a moment: “Your Majesty!” he called.
Baldwin immediately walked over. He and Caesar had a brief low-voiced conversation, and he too showed hesitation, but in the end made a decision. They went over and drove away the busy priests—since they were no longer useful.
Caesar quickly gave Manuel I a brief examination. To bystanders, he seemed merely to be straightening Manuel I’s posture, and no one stopped him.
After all, they had all heard that this Knight of Bethlehem and Count of Edessa always had considerable mercy for the weak—Sultan Nur al-Din of the Saracens was the “purification” he had performed for him.
And for people who likewise believed in God, he should respect their Emperor Manuel I even more—Caesar not only simply straightened Manuel I’s face but also cleared the debris from his mouth and nose. The onlookers involuntarily showed grateful expressions.
But his next action nearly startled them on the spot.
He taught Baldwin to pound Manuel I’s chest, as if treating it like a vile enemy, while he himself placed his hands over Manuel I’s face and began passionately kissing his lips.
If it had been someone else, or only him, the Byzantine nobles would surely have dragged him away without hesitation.
But the problem was that the King of Ayyarasa Road was kneeling beside Manuel I.
A noble of the Byzantine Empire turned dumbfoundedly to the Christian knight beside him. “You Franks…”
He did not continue, but the knight understood his meaning. He was asking whether you Franks had such strange customs: when a person left the world, did his friends and relatives express their grief in this way?
The knight did not know how to answer. He believed his king and the Count of Edessa were not frivolous people. Even a frivolous person would not treat a corpse so absurdly, especially since this corpse was not a charming noble lady but a bearded middle-aged man.
The reason Caesar had called Baldwin was precisely for this: with Baldwin between him and the crowd, what he needed to do would not be disturbed.
These people looked at each other until, after several minutes, a bold priest cautiously approached. He seemed to want to ask something, but Caesar just looked up, and those fierce, ruthless emerald eyes forced him back.
He retreated two steps and cast a pleading glance at the highest-status person here besides the king, that is, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch. As Manuel I’s in-law and subject, Bohemond could speak at this time. But this old fox, as always, timely remained silent, his face hidden under messy hair even appearing eager.
He seemed very surprised by these two young men’s actions but had no intention of stopping them.
“What are they doing?” he said in a voice so low it was almost inaudible to a second person.
This question was also in everyone’s mind here, but soon they got the answer.
The man they thought was dead, whose soul might already be struggling through hell, the Emperor of the Byzantine Empire suddenly twitched. He let out a terrifying groan that made everyone’s body shudder, his head moved, and then he opened his eyes.
Caesar stood up first, then pulled Baldwin up.
Now everyone could see that the chest, which had been still for a while, began to rise and fall again. “He lives,” a priest murmured, kneeling down.
Finally, everyone except Caesar and Baldwin knelt down, including Bohemond.
