Chapter 214: Seven Days Of Mourning
——“They married on the first day,
parted forever on the second,
on the third day, the husband began to mourn his wife,
he prayed for her until the seventh day before departing.”
This poem was composed by a minstrel who was on Cyprus Island at the time. Although the poem is short and straightforward, like a nursery rhyme, it is quite sorrowful and moving. Everyone who heard it sighed at the genuine emotion within it. But if you carefully trace its source, you will discover that the poem has little to do with love, while the fact hidden behind it is extremely bloody and cruel.
Caesar kept his promise. Anna passed away at dusk, and that very night the Saint Parna family hurried to arrive, followed one after another by several more families. They not only came but also brought the silver keys from their cities. According to Frankish tradition, presenting the keys to the new lord here was equivalent to handing over control of the cities to Caesar.
But after receiving them, he merely placed them indifferently in a box on the side.
A single silver key could not represent anything. Grand Prince Alexios had already proven this—these people kneeling before him and kissing his robe might at any moment draw a short sword behind his back or nock a longbow. However, his act of executing Alexios without the slightest hesitation had indeed shocked some people. Although Alexios had been stripped of his status as a legitimate son, he remained “the noblest.” Otherwise, it would have been impossible for him to establish his own force on Cyprus.
Was he not afraid? If the Emperor of Constantinople grew angry with him, could he confront the might of a powerful monarch?
He was indeed unafraid.
Moreover, at that time in the cathedral were also the King of Ayyarasa Road, Patriarch Heraclius, the two Grand Masters of the Knights Templar and the Knights Hospitaller, and Count Raymond of Tripoli. None of them stopped him. Does this not indicate that their support for him was far greater than the Cypriots had imagined?
Their new lord was young, but not merely a puppet as they had thought.
Back then, they had been willing to obey the Grand Prince’s orders and attempt to sabotage this marriage precisely because they underestimated this young man—of course, at first they had not intended to act so decisively. The crowd’s original plan was to abduct the Princess and hide her in a place where the Crusaders could not search.
As long as they delayed for a while and bribed a few ministers, they might persuade the Emperor to change his mind. Even if the marriage proceeded, Cyprus would not be given as the Princess’s dowry. At that time, they still harbored a sliver of illusion that perhaps the Emperor had not noticed the Grand Prince’s and their movements.
But now it seemed they had underestimated the Emperor and this young knight.
“What is he holding in his hand?” the Patriarch of Saint Parna asked a priest in the cathedral curiously—it was held by their new lord, and every time someone arrived, he would glance at it and then pinch it with his fingernails.
“I’m not entirely sure. But I think it may have something to do with you.”
It did indeed concern this group of fickle Cypriot nobles. On this sheepskin parchment, which had once been tightly rolled, were clearly listed the Cypriots involved in this conspiracy, even categorizing the leaders, followers, neutrals, and opponents.
This intelligence was not handed to Caesar by the Crusaders or others. The one who presented it to Caesar was Kostas. By doing so, if the other Cypriot nobles found out, they would surely think he was mad.
Yes, although his family and his father were not the leaders of this conspiracy, because of their noble origins they had become the publicly chosen leaders. But Kostas, now awaiting judgment in the underground tomb of the cathedral, had only recently discovered that those people had long prepared to use his father as a scapegoat, with the tacit approval of Grand Prince Alexios.
In the entire plan, his father had not been allowed to participate in the most important meetings, nor had the inside agents and specific details been fully disclosed to him. Their family had contributed a large sum of money and provided an army, which was even placed at the forefront of everyone else’s. If not for the small number of Crusaders in the cathedral adopting a cautious stance, their soldiers might have suffered utter annihilation.
Moreover, while he was still in the mansion, he had heard his father arguing with those people—they were shoving responsibility onto each other, from who had introduced Grand Prince Alexios, who had first called him Caesar, or who had eagerly gone to Constantinople to bribe officials and ministers. Even Kostas was blamed for not stopping the Grand Prince from courting death—completely ignoring that at the time the Grand Prince was surrounded by more of their own sons.
To say it, Kostas would claim such arguments were meaningless. But then he noticed a possibility: perhaps these people wanted to pin all the crimes on his father and force him to commit suicide.
Although all Christians would view suicide as an unforgivable sin, in the Byzantine Empire, both at court and on the battlefield, many officials and generals had indeed taken their own lives out of fear of future punishment. Once his father was dead, these people would no doubt gleefully take his head to negotiate with the new lord.
Kostas had to admit that he might still have a bit of luck on his side. His captain had rescued Princess Anna’s adoptive mother, and through this he had obtained the opportunity to meet the new lord.
He unhesitatingly handed over the list in his hand, though he did not know what their new lord would do.
Would he wait for the Crusaders’ reinforcements to arrive on Cyprus and then immediately launch plunder and slaughter, turning Cyprus into a second Ayyarasa Road?
Or, as they hoped, would he prefer to negotiate with them? If he was willing to maintain Cyprus’s current state, he would find the Cypriots exceedingly generous. If he wanted a few sacrificial victims, they could provide them entirely.
While Kostas was in an empty tomb chamber, accompanied by the dead, a priest who had received favors from his family came to tell him that their new lord had made a remarkably tolerant decision.
Regarding Cyprus, Kostas was of course more familiar with it than Caesar. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then discerned the new lord’s intent. Calculating from the farthest place—after receiving news of Princess Anna’s death, the family patriarch and key members could mount their horses without hesitation and ride day and night without stopping—without wasting time on rest or diet. Even people from the Chryse Islands could arrive in Larnaca within the time demanded by their lord.
But if they wanted to gather, deliberate, or continue watching for a while, no matter what, they could not arrive at the cathedral by the time Princess Anna’s coffin was buried. By then, they would only be reduced to rebels.
Perhaps someone would say this seemed somewhat unfair. For such a major matter, was he forcing them to make a decision so hastily?
But for that new lord, time was also a test.
Kostas believed many clever Cypriots would perceive this lord’s intent. They had to set out immediately, with almost no time or opportunity to collude with each other. Such hasty action would also easily breed mutual suspicion—the Cypriot nobles had rivalries and struggles among themselves, and the foundation of trust was already quite weak.
In dealing with the Crusaders, there were those like Saint Parna who unhesitatingly sided with the new lord, but there would also be some scheming individuals. But would they really dare to approach those lords who had raced day and night from distant places to plot future schemes?
They dared not. They could not be sure whether the other’s obedience was because he was the husband of Byzantine Emperor Manuel I’s daughter, or because he was the close friend and blood relative of the Knight of Bethlehem, the Count of Edessa, and the King of Ayyarasa Road?
If they rashly conspired with them, would they not be seen as stepping stones for others to climb higher?
Moreover, the distance of the cities and the time of arrival were like a clear mirror, instantly reflecting everyone’s attitudes—if those nearby arrived later than those far away, it would almost prove the former’s disloyalty. But without means to contact each other, everyone could only exert their utmost effort. How could they know if someone would take advantage and cause trouble?
At least Kostas had heard that the Cypriots from Ayulasa, second only to the Chryse Islands, arrived at noon on the second day at （noon）, though as soon as he entered Larnaca he nearly fell from his horse and was finally helped into the cathedral. But since he had arrived, it meant that those even closer who did not come were undoubtedly harboring malice.
In that case, it would be beyond reproach for the lord to punish them. But there would surely be some lords who, out of false cleverness or despair, refused to come. They might fear that once they entered the cathedral, they would have their heads chopped off by the grieving husband just like the Grand Prince.
But if they chose to hole up in their fortresses, did they think they could luckily escape? Of course not. Captain Giza had already told Kostas that the Crusaders’ ships had brought siege engines.
Even up to this moment, Kostas did not know if what he had done was right or wrong, but he had only one thought—he was different from his father; he had no illusions about the Cypriots. If they were determined to make his father and his family the scapegoats, then he would not mind pushing a few more sacrificial victims onto the altar.
At evening prayer on the third day, that is, around six in the afternoon, the last group of riders finally rushed into Larnaca covered in dust. The people on top could hardly rein in their horses. Fortunately, by then the Crusaders in Larnaca city had gained ample experience. A knight who had received a blessing charged out and seized the horse’s bridle.
That horse was already at the end of its strength. Once reined in, it gasped for breath, frothed at the mouth, and collapsed, throwing the rider underneath to the ground as well. Soldiers dragged him out from under the horse. He could barely speak and could only weakly display the coat of arms on his body. “It’s the Chryse Islands,” the Templar Knight in white robe with red cross immediately recognized the pattern.
The Chryse Islands, being very close to the Principality of Antioch, had always been a frequent stop for pilgrims on the Pilgrimage Road. They were all familiar with this coat of arms—“Shall we prepare a sedan chair?” The patriarch of Chryse hurriedly waved his hand. He could hardly imagine entering on a sedan chair in grand style in the solemn main hall of the church, where Princess Anna’s coffin was placed before the altar, her husband stood beside it in mourning attire, and the space around was crowded with people praying for the Princess…
Did he want to end up hanging on the city wall with the Grand Prince?
That sly fellow just smiled and ordered a carriage brought over, throwing the other few equally exhausted men onto it. “Take them to the cathedral!” he shouted loudly.
Although Princess Anna had been determined to be buried in the underground tomb of St. Lazarus Cathedral, her coffin was still carried out in procession. Priests bore the coffin, the Archbishop of Cyprus held the reliquary box containing her hair and fingernails and led the way in front, while others carried scripture, incense boats, holy images, and crosses on either side of the coffin—these holy images and crosses were somewhat overly vibrant in color because they were all newly made—not for Princess Anna.
In AD 726, Byzantine Emperor Leo III issued the ban on idol worship, simply put, to curb the Church’s rampant expansion. Under the pretext of not worshiping idols, countless holy images, vestments, and relics were gathered and destroyed, vast Church lands were confiscated, until 843 when Michael IV ascended and Regent Empress Theodora issued the Nicaea decree against iconoclasm, gradually bringing the iconoclastic movement to an end.
The worship of holy images and relics surged back stronger and more rampant than before. Even the poorest people had to hang a saint’s image in a gilded frame on their door, let alone prosperous Cyprus.
And as people raised torches for the procession starting from the cathedral and circling Larnaca’s main roads once, there were still people continuously arriving, but they could not get close to the procession. It had been a full day and night, a day and night—Caesar had already arranged knights to patrol and guard on the sides.
Some knelt in the darkness praying to the procession, others glanced a few times and turned away. Still others clashed with the Crusaders marching on both sides of the procession, resulting in either being driven off or arrested.
The patriarch of Saint Parna watched in shock and fear. Was he not afraid that they would return and immediately recruit armies to oppose him?
“How do you know…” the patriarch of the Chryse Islands gasped out in reply, “that our lord is not just waiting for exactly this?”
