Chapter 265: Spreading Wings
“I promise you!” Baldwin said crisply, and he laughed heartily at Caesar’s surprised face.
He laughed as he looked into his friend’s eyes, eyes as green as new spring leaves, “Do you think I would object? Stop you? I won’t.”
Nine years have passed since he first met Caesar until today, and Baldwin still clearly remembers the scene of his father, Amalric I, pushing Caesar before him.
At that time, Baldwin, who had repented of his past arrogance, had the first thought that if God had given this person such a beautiful appearance, he should not let him stay by the side of a leper, living in constant fear, and possibly contracting the same disease, his beautiful face would be covered with spots and scars everywhere.
At that time, out of pity for a peer and fear of God, he refused Amalric I’s proposal. If Caesar had not insisted on staying by his side and said those words, he would not have let him stay.
Baldwin was a proud man; he would not want to see others more unfortunate just because he was unfortunate; he was not that despicable.
But from when did the praise for Caesar no longer be limited to his appearance? Was it when he gave alms to the poor people of the entire Ayyarasa Road; or when he risked his life to save the life of Count Etienne; or when he dared to take three swords from Templar Knight Walter for the sake of innocent lives in a castle?
Or perhaps, after Caesar led him out of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, saving them from a treacherous plot, and he gained divine favor not inferior to his own?
Or was it because he became Amalric I’s escort; or because he once killed a she-bear that attacked the Byzantine Princess Maria together with him when they welcomed her into the city? Or, even more convincingly, when they went on an expedition to Egypt, he and Richard, were the first to ascend the Saracen city walls?
All the past flashed through Baldwin’s mind like a fleeting light, and he was filled with mixed emotions. His friend had grown up, his appearance was still impeccable, but people now spoke more of his piety, bravery, and loyalty.
The gaze directed at him had shifted from his superficial appearance to his more valuable soul.
When they were children, Baldwin was willing to let him be free and live in peace. And now, Baldwin would be even less likely to hinder his friend from soaring higher.
“My father, King Amalric I, brought you to me with some selfish intentions,” he pressed Caesar’s hand, signaling him not to interrupt, “You were unconscious then, and had lost your memory. Even though your origin could be proven by your hands, feet, speech, and the knowledge you still possessed, he did not, as a just monarch, search for your family.”
He… it was for me. He was not like this originally, but I cannot refute that he treated you, the son of a knight, like a slave, and allowed others to treat you like a slave.
I know why he did that – at that time, even a mixed-race person of Isaacite and Christian heritage was unwilling to serve me.
Although those people received their due retribution, we all know that I was indeed hopeless at that time. Even David and Abigail were strictly ordered by their father not to come near me anymore,” he suddenly chuckled here, “David must have wanted to come back to me, but Abigail must have avoided me like the plague.
And if he had found out your parents and your origin, how could he have let the son of a duke or a count stay by my side to serve me?
Even if he forced you to do it, you would have resented it, and might have harmed me someday.” He remembered the moment Caesar draped the white wool cloth from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre over him after completing his asceticism there, and he had felt warm and safe.
But for Amalric I, this was a bad omen. He suspected that Caesar had remembered something at that time, which led him to make such a dangerous decision—Baldwin alone saved Caesar when the king wanted to have him executed.
What a correct decision he made then, Baldwin could not help but shiver slightly. At that time, if he had hesitated even a little, if he had felt even a trace of jealousy, Caesar would not be sitting before him now.
And for his own selfish reasons, Baldwin had to admit that he felt incredibly at ease when Caesar was by his side.
He believed that perhaps only two things in this world would never leave him: leprosy and Caesar.
But if Caesar continued to stay by his side, even if he had regained his position as heir to the Count of Edessa, he would still be looked down upon—some people among the Crusaders who hated Caesar still called him the landless count.
He had to let Caesar go out, out of Holy Cross Castle, out of Ayyarasa Road, to a place that could only be looked up to, not looked down upon.
Caesar was like a hunting falcon that was captured and given to him when it was very young. They trusted each other and were in tune with each other, but no matter how exquisitely he crafted a cage for this falcon, sharing fresh meat and clean water with it, it was never as fitting as removing its shackles and letting it soar to the vast earth and sky.
Thinking of this, his resolve became even firmer. “I support you and I believe in you,” Baldwin said.
“But I may not be able to accompany you for some time. And the Assassins are still active, I am worried.”
“I am no longer a child who can be exiled to a monastery to become a monk at any moment. Even if you don’t believe me, don’t you believe in the spear bestowed upon me by Saint George?
I will pray to Saint George for his favor to accompany me. If I encounter danger, the spear will hum to remind me, and moreover, I have so many people by my side—David, Berion, Adam, William Marshall, and that Gian you newly recommended to me…
They are all trustworthy young men. When you leave, I will gather them to my tent and have them be my guards.
So, go with peace of mind, and don’t worry about me.”
“If something unfortunate happens to you, I will regret it for the rest of my life.”
“But if you stay here because of me, then I will regret it for the rest of my life. This is not only for you, but also for me, for Ayyarasa Road, and for the Crusaders, a great opportunity that will not last long, as Saladin’s army is within our sight.”
Anyone who has fought in siege warfare knows that the most terrifying thing is when reinforcements from the defending side arrive while they are attacking a castle. Therefore, the attacking side usually reserves a portion of their army to ensure they are not attacked from both sides.
Moreover, the general opposite is Saladin, a veteran general who has been fighting the Crusaders for ten years, a new Sultan, and he has such a vast army that anyone would be cautious.
And there is another problem facing the Crusaders, which is crossing the river.
Where to cross, when to cross, and how to cross are all very important questions. Basically, there are not many places to choose from.
The Jordan River is not a gentle river. Jordan means “rushing water downwards” in Hebrew. The Jordan River has a drop of about five thousand feet, and its course is rugged and winding, with sudden and violent changes in water volume due to rainfall and snowmelt.
The narrowest point is north of the Sea of Galilee, a strait-like area. However, due to the narrow banks, there is no place for over ten thousand people to stand. And above are towering highlands. If the Saracens arrive there in advance and attack from above, it will inevitably pose a great threat.
“It would be very difficult for us to counterattack, as there is only a steep path leading upwards from that place.”
An army of thirteen thousand men, even with fifty ships that could carry forty people simultaneously, would require a whole day, not to mention their horses and supplies.
And during the river crossing, whether fighting for the bridgehead position with the defenders or being ambushed during the crossing, it would be an extremely fierce and difficult battle.
And looking further north according to the map, beyond the narrow strip next to the Sea of Galilee, you will see an incredibly flat area, which is the Hula Valley, about six to seven leagues （25 kilometers ） long, two leagues （7 kilometers ） wide. The Jordan River becomes gentle here （ compared to upstream ）, and the soil it carries also deposits here, forming swamps and plains. The water flow here is slow and shallow, but the width is definitely wider than the strait.
When Caesar returned to Ayyarasa Road from Damascus, he was still somewhat confused, and merchants did not take this road. Because the Hula Valley was very dangerous at this time, they might have crossed the river further north and then ascended the highlands towards Ayyarasa Road.
“Saladin is deliberately controlling the army’s advance speed to make us act according to his rhythm… He cannot be sure when and where we will cross, but he will definitely monitor us closely and threaten us with his soldiers,” Baldwin mused. “Although they also have to cross the river, they are in Saracen territory, and the Hula Valley is not under our control.”
Although Caesar did not dampen the mood when the generals in the tents clamored for a straightforward confrontation with the Saracens, in fact, besides him, several other experienced generals had also warned them, and this loss had already been calculated as an inevitable cost.
But Caesar had another idea: they had to cross the river, but who said they could only choose one crossing point?
It’s just that he couldn’t be sure if the laborers and knights he brought out could remain silent throughout. However, it didn’t matter if they were discovered by the Saracens—two crossing points would also force them to divide their forces.
But if Caesar’s plan was followed, it would mean he had to lead about three hundred knights and a thousand laborers into battle first.
And during this rugged and unfamiliar journey, they could encounter Saracens or bandits at any time.
But was this plan feasible? Yes, it was feasible. Was it useful? Yes, it was useful.
If another crossing point or a bridge could be created, it would greatly increase the mobility of the Crusaders, especially before the Saracens discovered it.
Baldwin could almost imagine that when they were locked in fierce combat in one place, a crack troop would suddenly emerge from behind these Saracens, holding their spears, urging their steeds, and crashing into the Saracen ranks like a giant stone, throwing them into disarray and causing them to fall from their horses.
At this time, the Crusaders who had landed could also seize the opportunity to advance and completely annihilate the enemies who came to intercept them. This would be an invaluable move to reduce losses and boost morale.
“But… there shouldn’t be a problem with the knights, what about the laborers? Should they be told the truth?” Baldwin was somewhat troubled. He trusted the knights under his command and the good lads recruited by Caesar.
These knights were not frivolous and loose-lipped young men, nor would they betray information due to Saracen or other provocations. If they were, they would never have become Caesar’s subordinates.
Among them were also some old men left by Jocelyn II, Count of Edessa, who had received fiefs—on Cyprus, some had even brought their wives and children to Cyprus. In Francia, they might only have one or two barren fields, a mill, a river, or a small forest.
But here, they could enjoy an entire manor, a large tract of land, or several shops, and their wives and children could live quite prosperously and leisurely.
Moreover, it was so close to the Holy Land that they could even go on pilgrimage at any time, which was an irresistible condition for pious people.
But what about the laborers? These laborers were almost all recruited from Ayyarasa Road and surrounding areas. They were not hired but were performing labor service, and only after the period of labor service would they possibly receive wages. And for people of this era, they were full of fear and defensiveness towards everything external.
Even in the camp, they only wanted to gather with familiar people, and some of them even came from the same village. Caesar was about to undertake such a dangerous and difficult task, and he would certainly not need women and the elderly, but only capable, strong, young men who could endure long journeys. Would these laborers be willing?
Even if they were driven by whips to set off （ not to mention whether Caesar would do so ）, their numbers would far exceed those of the knights, and Caesar and the other knights had to sleep. Even if they didn’t revolt, they would flee—this kind of thing often happened in past campaigns.
Indeed, as Baldwin worried, when the knights came to the laborers’ camp and read them the news that a thousand men were to be selected for siege engines, but not here but elsewhere, all the laborers remained silent. They looked at the knight with suspicious eyes. Even though he wore a surcoat with the yellow cross of Ayyarasa Road, proving he was sent by the king, they gave no response.
“One silver coin a day, one silver coin a day!” the knight shouted loudly. “Ayyarasa Road silver coins, newly minted! Does no one want them?”
He opened his money bag and poured the shining little things onto a stake in front of him. The tempting luster made everyone dizzy. A man in his thirties or forties wanted to step forward, but was pulled back by his companion. “That’s what the devil uses to exchange for your soul,” the other whispered, “You can’t go, you have a wife and children at home.”
“Master, where is the place you mentioned?” someone asked doubtfully. “How long will we have to walk? How long will we have to work?”
These knights could not answer him. If he said anything, the merchants would immediately realize what the Crusaders intended to do. He also could not be sure how long it would take. The Hula Valley was still a blank slate for Christians; it was still under the control of the Saracens or nature, and its residents were not necessarily all devout Christians.
They still had to cut down trees to build ships, and even pontoon bridges. No one could definitively say the time and place.
Some people were indeed tempted by those silver coins. With this money, even if they died on the expedition, their descendants could escape the tragic fate that had lasted for hundreds of years.
His child might have the opportunity to study and become a priest; or might be taken as an escort by a knight—if he could afford his own armor and mule; if not, he could also buy land and become a wealthy farmer, or go to a craftsman’s workshop as an apprentice. This kind of apprentice came with money. Of course, unlike apprenticeships that were equivalent to indentured servitude, he would not only enjoy living conditions second only to the master but also learn real skills.
Their families would immediately break away from their original social class.
But they also had doubts and hesitations. They had seen too many lords make promises and swear oaths, but when it came time to fulfill them, they would prevaricate, evade, or even get angry and whip them, or arbitrarily accuse them of a crime. Then, their families would face not luck, but disaster.
Even if these lords were willing to pay in advance, this money might not be theirs. When they left, or died, they could still use a hundred or a thousand reasons to snatch back these shining little things.
“Then, can I be the guarantor?” As the speaker finished, the knight turned and respectfully saluted him.
At first, the laborers thought the newcomer was a lord, but then one of them joyfully shouted, “It’s the Little Saint!”
They swarmed forward, and the knights immediately became tense, but Caesar merely signaled them not to follow. Indeed, about three feet away from him, people automatically stopped. They took off their hats, pulled down their headscarves, and like sunflowers, all lifted their heads uniformly, looking at him with shining eyes and smiles on their faces, revealing their missing or blackened teeth.
They might be young, but their harsh lives had taken their toll. But as soon as they saw Caesar, their previous dullness, irritability, and cunning vanished, and they even forgot their fatigue and worries.
Although they flocked to Caesar, these people still maintained a respectful distance. As Caesar walked forward, they quickly parted to the sides, so as not to touch his sacred clothes or hands—although they desperately wanted to receive the Little Saint’s blessing, they… could not—if he had not allowed it, they could not.
“I am the one who will do this,” Caesar said. “Similarly, I cannot tell you how long this work will last, and I must also tell you that the journey and the place where we work are not very safe. We may indeed be attacked by enemies—wherever they may come from, some may die, some may be injured.
But I can guarantee it with my honor.
Before you leave, everyone will receive ten silver coins. And this money will be sent to your families by a dedicated person. Then, one silver coin per person per day, including travel time.”
“Does travel time count?” someone exclaimed, that was a lot, a lot, a lot of money, and there were a thousand of them.
Caesar nodded. “Yes, one silver coin per person per day. We will provide food and mules.”
Mules were certainly one of the most important assets in a large expeditionary army, but to do this perfectly, ensuring speed was absolutely necessary.
“That’s wonderful. My lord, when do we depart?”
The knight who came to recruit laborers had a strange expression on his face. He might have been met with silent resistance just now, resistance, it was definitely resistance. They treated him as air, or an annoying bug, and simply ignored him, leaving him speechless with anger.
Then, as soon as Caesar appeared, these people immediately transformed from a group of wild boars glaring at you with small eyes into docile puppies, barking and fearing that he wouldn’t choose them.
Caesar’s appearance resolved the issue—although he was also somewhat surprised, he then stayed on the scene under the eager gaze of the crowd, watching the knights select the people he needed one by one.
Carpenters and stonemasons were naturally the first choice. But he couldn’t choose too many, as skilled craftsmen were always precious talents valued by every lord. Even if they were not as important as blacksmiths, they were still quite important in an army.
Next were those who had lived by the Jordan River, whether they were fishermen or farmers living by the lake. They were all good swimmers, and some could repair and build small boats. These small boats could not go out to sea, but on calm lakes and rivers, they could last for a while.
Afterward, Caesar specifically requested single men—because the departure of a husband or father could lead to the disintegration of an entire family. The laborers agreed.
This statement, however, also caused some dissatisfaction: “Because I am a father, a husband, I need more money to support my family!”
“You might die,” Caesar said patiently.
“You said before that those who die will receive a death benefit of three gold coins, plus our previously accumulated wages. You will also deliver it to our wives and children without a single penny missing. What else do I have to worry about?
Little Saint, I beg you. For the sake of my poor wife and children, please take me. I am very strong, I can carry a millstone for a hundred paces.”
This speech by the husband and father caused a new stir. Single men and men with families argued, each believing they should follow the Little Saint to do this. It was not just for money, but because they believed that doing work with the Little Saint was equivalent to working for God, and even if they died, their souls would go directly to heaven and not to hell.
Such an opportunity was not even available to nobles, let alone ordinary people like them who were so poor that they might not even be able to offer a Mass?
A thousand men were selected almost in the blink of an eye. Some even reluctantly stepped forward, begging Caesar for more opportunities, for more spots, they would even work for free.
This astonished the knights. They had indeed heard of Caesar’s reputation as the Little Saint, but that was nine years ago. Except for some casual jokes, this title had almost been forgotten.
They didn’t expect that among the common people, Caesar would still have such great prestige. Even if the King of Ayyarasa Road came here, he might not receive such widespread support and trust.
“This is simply Jesus Christ and his followers,” one knight blurted out. As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Fortunately, no one noticed his blasphemous remark except for the escort beside him.
Caesar’s attitude was gentle but firm. One thousand men was the number he had calculated that could bear the load of a long and fast-moving procession, even with mules to share the heavy burden.
He watched as these men orderly received the ten silver coins. No one impersonated, and no one lied.
Generally, they would entrust it to their friends or other trustworthy people to take the money back to their homes.
But here, they turned again and returned to Caesar, placing the coins, carried in leather pouches, wrapped in handkerchiefs, or kept carefully in a box, at his feet.
“What are you doing?”
“Please send this money back to our families,” a carpenter prayed with clasped hands. “I don’t trust anyone else.”
“Then how was your previous wages sent back?” Caesar wanted to ask, but he held back, as this was not difficult for him.
“Alright, I will send this money back to your families for you. It will only require a small team of armed servants, led by a knight.” Furthermore, these laborers were registered, their identities, origins, residences, and populations were clearly documented, so the knight would not have to search hard.
He also instructed the knight in charge of this matter to deliver the money into the hands of the laborers’ families, rather than the village steward or priest—if he gave it to them, they might not pocket it all—after all, the laborers were working for the King of Ayyarasa Road, but they would certainly embezzle a portion, whether it was a transaction tax or a piety tax. In any case, ten silver coins might only result in five, or even three, reaching their families.
These men might lose their lives in the subsequent work. Caesar could not bear for anyone to take away these blood-stained silver coins.
After these matters were completed, the sun had moved from east to west, but the sky was still bright enough for these laborers to see each other’s faces and eyes, but at this time, someone lit a bonfire.
It was a bit early, as laborers were usually very stingy, but no one stopped them. Just as Caesar stood up, preparing to leave, a woman suddenly rushed out from the crowd. She staggered and stopped in front of Caesar, then took two steps back and knelt down.
It was then that Caesar realized she was not alone, but was holding a young man, or perhaps a boy. Caesar couldn’t determine his age, as for these common people, faces were the most unreliable things.
A child of fourteen or fifteen could have a wrinkled face, lost teeth, or even a hunched back.
“I I I… he and I… not long ago… just just just…”
Caesar raised his hand, signaling the other person to calm down before speaking. He was afraid the woman would choke herself to death here.
“Toma and I got married a few days ago…” the woman said. Perhaps seeing the surprise on Caesar’s face, two blushes appeared on her sallow face.
Their ages were clearly mismatched, but it wasn’t an old husband and young wife, but a young husband and an old wife. The woman was at least twice the age of the boy. The skin on her face and chest had sagged dreadfully, like the red fleshy wattles hanging from a vulture’s cheeks, making it almost unbearable to look at.
But for these people, this was quite normal. To be honest, being able to get married was considered good fortune for both this woman and this man. Most of the time, even the eldest son in a family had difficulty finding a suitable wife.
Moreover, although the woman’s face was sallow, her bones were thick and her limbs were strong, and her husband could be considered a fortunate man.
“Please please, please… bless us… wish… wish us… a child.”
Caesar hesitated. He would not refuse this request. Although he hadn’t done it in a long time, he immediately untied the leather strap on his wrist, took off his chainmail gloves, washed his hands casually in the wooden basin brought by the newlyweds, and then placed his hands before the two newlyweds.
They knelt respectfully, touched his hands with their foreheads, and then withdrew contentedly, tears streaming down the bride’s face.
As if nine years ago, a new scene unfolded. More people came to ask him for blessings. Thousands of laborers crowded there, each hoping to kiss Caesar’s robe hem or touch his fingers. But Caesar raised his hands, “Wait a moment,” he said, and then, under everyone’s gaze, he knelt on the ground and began to pray.
And the saint’s blessing descended upon him in an instant, as it had every time before. He called the couple back to give them blessings again, and so did the others.
This was something these common people had not expected. Even though they had always praised the Little Saint, prayed for him, and even carved his name on wooden tablets as amulets to carry, the Little Saint was no longer the same Little Saint. He was not a commoner like them; he was already a count, and even the… absolute monarch of Cyprus. They didn’t understand these things, but they knew he was a very, very important lord, so important that they couldn’t imagine it, even the king often placed his seat next to his own, treating him like a brother.
The fact that he could appear before them was already an honor that would allow them to talk about it for decades.
The brave newlywed couple took the lead, making the request for Caesar to bless them, and Caesar agreed. For them, this was simply a miracle.
If Caesar were not a person of flesh and blood, but a stone statue, a bronze statue, they would have rushed forward and desperately kissed him, touched him, embraced him, and caressed him, not stopping until he was polished to a golden sheen.
But at this moment, they could only desperately suppress the surging emotions in their hearts. One by one, they came forward. Even some of the more prestigious individuals began to call their friends to maintain order.
And then, an even more unbelievable thing happened. The Little Saint not only agreed to bless them, but he even prayed to God, calling forth saints and angels. Several people fainted silently. If they hadn’t had friends and relatives beside them to wake them up immediately, they might have regretfully missed this great opportunity.
If that happened, they might regret it so much that they would commit suicide—they were going to hell anyway.
At first, only the bride of the newlywed couple was crying. Now, more and more people were weeping. Some shed tears silently, some sobbed, some cried hysterically. They tried their best not to let their cries disturb the Little Saint, but the tears could not be stopped.
“Are we dreaming? Are we dreaming?” someone muttered. Others bit their fingers or tongues, but the pain told them it was real.
A saint had come among them and was not reluctant to share the blessings he had received with them.
He stood in the light, as if cast from silver, with daylight, moonlight, and starlight resting on him in turn, and he touched each person’s forehead, just as a shepherd touches his lambs.
This was the scene that Baldwin and the ministers beside him witnessed.
