Chapter 222: Banquet
As soon as Caesar’s words landed, the Gerard family members revealed smiles, except for their patriarch; the old knight still had his brows tightly furrowed, looking worried.
The Crusader knights were mostly relaxed in expression, unconcerned, only some of the most pious and noble good people showed mercy on their faces, but for them, this outcome could not be called unexpected.
The locals were not submissive to Crusader rule. If following what a Templar Knight like Walter thought, humiliating a noble lady was certainly an immoral act, but immorality could not make a charge established. He believed these young men should receive some punishment, but only because they disobeyed the lord’s orders, not because they infringed on the Cypriots’ interests.
And that father who had lost his daughter and also his son was even more ashen-faced, his eyes bloodshot like they were filled with blood; he seemed to want to say something, but was stopped by Caesar raising his hand.
The other was still a young man who had just made an extremely unjust judgment before. The Cypriots thought that father would roar out in fury, accusing the new lord of breaking his word—was the three laws he set just toilet paper?
But when he saw those cold green eyes, the anger about to erupt was like magma instantly frozen, condensing into a heavy stone.
“This is a crime,” Caesar said in a low voice, everyone straining to listen: “They committed a crime and should be tried and punished, not duels. Duels can only happen in events that cannot be measured and judged by law, not in confirmed crimes.”
Geoffrey looked at Walter in surprise; what Walter had said before seemed to have come true.
“The Gerard family was not so respectful and considerate before.” Walter said, “Watch and see.”
“You cannot.” That young man from the Gerard family blurted out subconsciously—what crime? They just made a mistake that all men would make—when Ayyarasa Road was breached, wasn’t it that many Crusader knights used holy embraces and kisses to “purify” those evil heathen women?
Were those knights punished in any way? No, they received no reproach, neither bodily nor spiritual.
They had only gone slightly overboard; when they realized this, this pair of brothers and their father and uncles did not think of confessing or appealing, nor even planning to flee—they came up with the idea of vigorously promoting their sister’s marriage to Caesar…
“We are willing to pay ransom.” His brother was obviously a bit smarter than him and immediately shouted shrewdly: “We are willing to pay ransom!” Anyway, the Gerard family had plenty of money.
“I do not want ransom!” That Cypriot shouted.
“There is no clause in the laws I set allowing sinners to obtain forgiveness through ransom.” Caesar said: “But your family still must make compensation to the victim; understand? Not ransom, compensation.
After you receive the punishment you deserve, your family members should also apologize to the victim’s family for your crime and repay the costs they incurred in raising two children.”
“They are heretics!”
“I seem to have said long ago that on my territory, after I have promulgated the relevant laws, all crimes are just crimes.”
Caesar slowly walked down from the high platform where the main table was, passing by the still somewhat incredulous Cypriot, then glancing over the terrified and hatred-filled brothers; his gaze swept over the people at the long table, whether Crusaders or Cypriots, “My demands are simple: do not violate my laws.
Whoever violates them, whether old person, child, man, woman, layperson or priest, and whatever faith they have, to me there are only three identities: innocent people, victims, and criminals.
And criminals must be punished.”
His words brought a brief silence.
The first thought leaping into people’s minds was how he… dared; it was not that they looked down on Caesar, but the timing of this event was too coincidental.
Everyone knew that Caesar actually had no foundation; all along, he had been Prince Baldwin（ now Baldwin IV）’s attendant, with no fief, nor enough money to recruit knights loyal to him.
Even Longinus, who willingly served him back then, was mockingly called a slave among slaves; any knight with some means or not desperate would not want to join such an attendant of unclear origin.
This situation changed somewhat when he was enfeoffed as Knight of Bethlehem; the money from this small but wealthy city of Bethlehem was enough for him to recruit five knights with surnames.
And after his identity was confirmed, knights previously loyal to his grandfather or great-grandfather, and their offspring, gradually returned to his service. After all, the fall of the County of Edessa was a thorn in many people’s hearts that could never be removed.
Additionally, knights and escorts who developed fondness for him through long association; they were young men who thought he was someone worth following and decided to become his subjects; most of them had even originally planned to join the three great Knights orders.
And this Cypriot’s reason for publicly challenging the Gerard family members who insulted his daughter and killed his son in this setting was also because of this; they worried that if appealing privately to the lord, he might not be as just as he appeared, and then not only would his grievance not be cleared, but he and the rest of his clan would suffer as well.
He had not even demanded bringing the criminals to justice, but directly proposed a duel.
A grieving father challenging the perpetrators to a duel. He believed even the Grand Master of the Knights Templar or the Grand Master of the Knights Hospitaller standing here would have nothing to say.
Caesar’s decision instead made him subconsciously grip his short sword tightly; he almost dared not believe these people would really be punished? Would they not just be lightly expelled from Cyprus or whipped a few times to settle the matter?
The two bastards from the Gerard family seemed to think so too. After initial panic, they quickly calmed down, but it was clear Caesar was not the type to dawdle, letting things slide irreversibly; he had promulgated laws and ensured everyone on the island could understand them.
Now with everyone present, this courtroom was even luxurious for these beasts worse than animals. There were already witnesses and evidence, and they themselves admitted their crime, so no more need be said.
Caesar returned to his seat, meeting his sister’s worried gaze; he just smiled reassuringly, then immediately gave the judgment—principal offender beheaded, accomplices hanged.
Hearing such a judgment, and seeing on the square outside the great hall that indeed people began erecting the execution platform, servants brought the wooden block for beheading, the wooden frame for hanging the condemned was quickly set up—and a team of knights swiftly rode out to search the Gerard residence for the criminals not permitted to attend this banquet—the two criminals standing rigidly in place finally changed color.
“Are you mad!” That brother shouted: “You actually stand on the side of heretics! On the side of Byzantines; have you forgotten you are a Crusader knight, Count of Edessa, servant of the Church, warrior of God?
Doing this, are you not afraid of disheartening those who follow you?
When you were still a mere attendant, our family helped you.
Abbot John once gave you two loaves of white bread, thirty silver coins, and a strong large mule; you were just a lowly slave then.” At these words, people could not help but slightly change color; they thought the lord would fly into a rage—not everyone could accept their humble past being repeatedly brought up.
But Caesar just gazed at him calmly; this attitude made the guy even more deranged. “If not for the map we provided, you could never have escaped…!”
Hearing this, the approaching Gerard patriarch immediately strode forward swiftly, simultaneously drawing the short sword with its scabbard from his waist and smashing it hard across the face of the one spouting nonsense.
Indeed, important figures of the Gerard family or rather the two Knights orders knew that back then, due to the Templar Knights’ negligence, candles in the Temple Church were tampered with; in the emergency, using an old Templar map provided by the Gerard family, Caesar carried the dying prince and escaped through the abandoned sewer.
Only afterward did people manage to transfer them to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, leading to the so-called “holy relic.”
But this matter, you can know it, you can even do it, but absolutely do not say it out loud.
The Gerard family patriarch reacted swiftly, striking the man so he spun half a circle in the air, teeth flying out with blood, leaving him in too much pain to speak; then the knights who reacted pinned down the other one.
Fortunately, as the youngest son, he knew less than the second son, so that guy could only yell that Caesar had been bewitched by these Cypriots’ false affections and sweet words, forgetting his identity; he had fallen, become a heretic; no knight would remain loyal to him, nor would any lord ally with him or become his vassal.
He was doomed to be alone and isolated.
He shouted until the end, even bursting into haha laughter, as if already seeing that future, “You think these Cypriots will thank you for this? No way; they are heretics to you, and you are a heretic to them. One day they will put you on a pyre and burn you alive!”
The atmosphere in the great hall immediately became even stranger, and indeed some knights showed hesitation; they might not see the two from the Gerard family as beasts, but they were accustomed to dominating others, especially in the heathen cities they invaded and occupied; even if not as excessive as these brothers, they would occasionally act on whim.
Now it seemed the laws promulgated by this lord were not solely targeting those Cypriots; did they really want to stay here?
Perhaps the Christian countries of the Holy Land were where they should pledge themselves, like Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch, who rarely restricted his knights, at least to the minimal extent like honest Count Raymond of Tripoli—he believed knights should not indulge in drunken revelry before victory, lest it affect their battlefield performance.
But if someone did, as long as it did not affect the war situation, he would not execute them so resolutely; at most deprive them of knight status or require confession and Mass as punishment; sometimes, as long as they earned more merits on the battlefield for him, he would turn a blind eye and deaf ear.
But when one brother’s head fell and the other was hung on the gallows, and the Lord of Cyprus did not change his mind, the priests of the Roman Church also began to look displeased.
One of the knights had received a blessing.
Although Amalric I had once hanged twelve blessed knights, that was because they lost an important territory and fortress, giving the Saracens a chance to threaten the Holy City.
What had these two knights done? Those they brutalized were not pious Christians, but Orthodox Church believers; to them, a scolding would suffice, or expulsion.
But in this oppressive and heavy atmosphere, they surprisingly could not speak up to stop it, until the other criminals from the Gerard family were also captured and brought, directly hanged in the square, dying under everyone’s gaze.
Geoffrey showed disapproval for the first time. Walter watched with great interest, as if finally glimpsing a weakness in Caesar.
Caesar was not surprised to see him again; he always felt Walter looked somewhat gloating.
“Is this the matter you mentioned to me before?”
“I warned you,” Walter sat before him, staring fixedly at his face, trying to find some clues, “Do you regret it?”
“I do not regret it.”
“But I heard,” Walter glanced at the weather outside; this was already the third day after that banquet, outside was sunny and bright, the heat not yet reaching the room; documents piled up before the lord, his cuffs stained with ink.
“You know that on the second day, many knights left Cyprus for Antioch or Tripoli? You still insist on throwing all the worm-infested wheat into the sea?
You originally might have had an army of three hundred knights; now you might have only a hundred.
And the Gerard family is inevitably alienated from you henceforth; you can no longer gain their loyalty.
As for those Cypriots, if you insist on believing them, I have nothing to say, but I believe the jokes I will see in the future will come one after another, endlessly.”
“My view is exactly the opposite of yours,” Caesar put down his pen, gazing calmly at Walter as he slowly said, “Throwing worm-infested wheat into the sea instead of keeping it in the warehouse. To some, this seems foolish, after all, in hunger, wormy flour can still be eaten.
But you should realize a problem: worm-infested wheat, even ground into flour, is poisonous; perhaps not noticeable at first, but this toxin will accumulate in your body and eventually cause irreparable consequences.
And by throwing away this wormy wheat, perhaps I will feel ‘hungry’ in the future, but I believe this world will always have uninfested wheat.
I also believe knights who can propose and uphold eight virtues will not, upon arriving in a strange place unsupervised, commit crimes they themselves despise.
And what I await are these like-minded young people, just like the former Grand Master and founder of the Knights Templar Hugues de Payens and Geoffrey de Saint-Omer, who, without horses, weapons, armor, or clothes, still established the Knights Templar.
When he stood amid ruins and pilgrims’ corpses, did he think only of money and women? Absolutely not; if so, he would have become one of the bandits plundering pilgrims; he did not debase himself but rose from adversity, creating the Knights Templar.
The current Knights Templar may have long betrayed his original intent, but the foundation he built has not been destroyed.
You still hold the most basic belief in your hearts; to defend the faith, you left your homeland alone, abandoning all worldly power and property, just to fulfill the oath you swore before the cross.
I dare not dream of building an organization as great as the Knights Templar, but I know if the foundation is tilted or damaged from the start, the palace cannot stand long—fewer people is fine; Walter, you should know what kind of person I am; people with different ideas need not be forcibly bound together; this is good for them and for me.”
Walter glanced at him; he had to admit he was not purely gloating, but had some resentment. As an old knight who spent almost his entire latter half-life in the Holy Land, what could pain him more than seeing the Knights Templar fallen to this state?
He had once clashed with King Amalric I of Ayyarasa Road, but the root of the conflict was not just the annual five thousand gold coins revenue; he believed that Arabs passing through Tortosa, whether the Old Man of the Mountain or the Old Man Under the Water, should pay him a “heathen” tax in exchange for their lives and freedom.
But King Amalric I of Ayyarasa Road tried to make peace with these heathens and cancel this tax. This was no longer just an economic issue, but a matter of faith.
Was this not saying these heathens could enjoy the same rights as Christians?
In the Templar Knights’ territory, certainly not; thus he boldly clashed with the king, even to war; and like Geoffrey, he had always watched this young man who nearly became a Templar Knight; they admitted the favor he received might exceed ten Templar Knights, but the problem was he seemed not awed by this extra grace.
On the contrary, like those only children who got too much, he did not take God’s favor to heart; in his world, Christians, Isaacites, Saracens, even Turks seemed without clear distinction. He judged people only by whether they were upright and good, not by their faith; this was very dangerous.
Walter could not say whether he wanted to see another outcome.
If in today’s trial Caesar had sided with the Crusaders, would he feel regret?
Perhaps, but better than the current worry. And now Caesar spoke again of preferring a few trustworthy friends, companions, and subordinates over a motley crowd—this troubled him more.
He had seen such people, in reality or history books; unfortunately, almost none had a good end, even if canonized as saints after death, they suffered great loneliness and pain before dying.
“You are not a saint,” he could only say. “Also, besides the Gerard family,” he hesitated a long while before taking a deep breath, “you must be careful of the Church.”
Indeed as Walter said, on the fourth day after the banquet ended, trouble from the Church arrived.
