Chapter 310: Excommunication
Caesar embraced Baldwin tightly, and Baldwin also hugged Caesar tightly. At this moment, nothing could be more precious than a friend’s embrace and the trust and love it represented.
Moments later, they separated, and only then did Caesar see Baldwin’s eyes at that moment; he couldn’t help but be slightly stunned.
Because those gray-blue eyes, as hard as steel and as wild as flames, reminded him of the former King Amalric I. When he first met Amaury I, his eyes had been the same color.
And Baldwin surpassed even the Amalric I of that time.
Baldwin kept his lips pressed tightly together, almost vanishing into a thin line.
He firmly held Caesar’s arm, walking from the city gate all the way to the Church of the Nativity, under the gaze of countless eyes, as if to prove thereby that his brother and friend was not a sinner. On the contrary, he was a saint worthy of respect; he had saved so many lives, and people should erect a statue for him and praise his great name day and night without cease.
Now they were using the health and vitality he had bestowed upon them to push his benefactor into hell.
Baldwin was furious upon hearing the so-called testimony and decree, and he even killed on the spot an Isaacite who dared to follow the Pope’s envoy to Holy Cross Castle. If the envoy had not been a chosen one, he probably would not have escaped the edge of Saint George’s Spear.
But how could merely one Isaacite extinguish the anger in his heart?
His heart was even more filled with guilt toward Caesar. Like Patriarch Heraclius, he too had perceived the hostility of the Duke of Antioch and the Count of Tripoli toward Caesar.
But these two were also uncles and elder cousins who had watched him grow up; they had once put him on their shoulders, and on their knees they had brought him little horses, little bows, little swords.
They had kindly taught him how to ride horses, how to do archery, how to wield a long sword; they had sent their only sons to his side as his playmates and friends. The Duke of Antioch Bohemond had even bluntly told him that their relationship with Amalric I was not harmonious, and he hoped that the friendship of the next generation could begin to grow from then on.
They had once been so good to him that even after Baldwin contracted leprosy, they no longer allowed David and Abigail to come to his side as his attendants, but they themselves still visited him often to comfort him.
Baldwin did not harbor resentment because they forbade their only sons from continuing to serve him; he even tried to understand them, after all, David and Abigail were their only sons, the heirs to the County and Duchy. They could not serve a prince who might be deposed at any time, nor could they follow him to the monastery.
He understood their difficulties and hoped they could understand his as well. He could make David and Abigail his subjects again, but he could not tolerate them remaining by his side and entrusting them with trust.
He also knew that this might not be a good thing for Caesar. But he was full of contempt for Abigail and did not believe such a petty person could cause much trouble, while David’s integrity made Baldwin believe he would not resort to despicable means—when Caesar was still just a slave-born attendant, David had been willing to acknowledge the result of their sparring, let alone now.
As for Count Raymond of Tripoli and the Duke of Antioch Bohemond—they were already old; even if his own life was not long, these two might still die before him. He had even made plans: once his sister Princess Sibylla gave birth to a boy, he would bring him to his side and raise him as his heir.
Before his death, he would entrust this child to Caesar, then have David assist from the side. As for Abigail—whether or not he was the father of this child, he would send him to the monastery.
But now, the cruel reality told Baldwin that his indecisiveness would kill people.
As soon as he entered the room, he staggered; Caesar quickly supported him, and with one touch, he knew the skin under his clothes was frighteningly hot.
He quickly helped Baldwin lie down on the bed and called a monk to treat him. The monk could only try to lower Baldwin’s temperature, but those who could stay by the Patriarch’s side were certainly not mediocre—especially with Caesar beside him sharing some of Baldwin’s pain.
But before the monk left the room, he heard a suppressed sobbing.
Unusually, Caesar did not try to comfort him.
At this time, forcing Baldwin to endure and not vent this emotion would lead to even worse consequences.
“How could they do this?” Baldwin said through gritted teeth, crying out in pain. “They know full well that you are my only support, the only person I can trust, but…” He gripped Caesar’s wrist tightly, breathing rapidly, his eyes bloodshot, but after a moment, he let out a hysterical laugh.
“I should have realized it earlier, Caesar, I should have realized it. When they used Abigail to test me—yes, that test was initiated by Sibylla and Abigail, but was not Bohemond standing behind them?”
It was only because his attachment to Sibylla was not as strong as before, and he did not believe Abigail, that this conspiracy ended without result.
He should have known then, at least Bohemond—toward Baldwin, he had not the slightest love, or even goodwill; he had simply disguised himself very well. When he looked at Baldwin, it was not as at a nephew, but as at an enemy.
But Baldwin really could not understand; Bohemond had no possibility of inheriting Ayyarasa Road. His son and Princess Sibylla might indeed have a child, but even if possible, Baldwin was already an adult and even crowned.
By the time Sibylla’s child was born until he could ascend the throne, it would take a full ten-plus years. And in those ten-plus years, not to mention whether Bohemond could remain safe as before, even if he could wait until the child became king, he would already be over fifty…
No, wait. Perhaps as soon as this child was born, he would be the de facto Regent of Ayyarasa Road; both Sibylla and Abigail would be mere dolls to be manipulated at his will.
If so, then Caesar, who had always stayed by Baldwin’s side and tried every means to prolong his life, would become an eyesore.
As for David and his father Raymond…
Baldwin pressed his chest; they, like Caesar, had blood relation to him, but more distant than Caesar. In other words, once he lost Caesar’s support and died early, the Crusaders might really elect Raymond as the King of Ayyarasa Road.
His heart was seized by anger and pain with nowhere to vent; he deeply realized that what hindered these two was not Caesar, but himself.
They simply had to remove him first, so they had to move the great stone that was Caesar out of the way.
This realization pierced through his brain and body like thunder, causing him pain so intense he could hardly speak. It took a long time before he could feel a hand gently stroking his forehead.
Baldwin smiled bitterly and opened his eyes. Due to the plague in Bethlehem, Caesar had not had a full night’s sleep for nearly a month; he looked somewhat haggard, yet showed no panic or gloom—he was still the same, like a hard diamond on which neither filth nor sunlight could leave a mark.
Baldwin gazed at him for a good while before suddenly smiling. “I want to enter the monastery.”
Caesar looked at him in confusion, unusually unable to immediately understand Baldwin’s meaning.
This appearance made Baldwin smile. “I enter the monastery, I abdicate, Caesar, and then I will place the crown of Ayyarasa Road on your head.”
It took Caesar a moment to find his voice. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want you to become the King of Ayyarasa Road.”
The position of King of Ayyarasa Road was too unique; the Pope could issue the Great Excommunication Decree to Emperor Henry IV of the Roman Empire, but might not be able to do so to the King of Ayyarasa Road—especially since he was also the Grand Master of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre, the guardian of the Holy Sepulchre.
Caesar actually considered this possibility. He had no interest in becoming the King of Ayyarasa Road, but if it could bankrupt those petty people’s conspiracy, he might try it. Anyway, in the future he could also announce his entry into the monastery and return the crown to Baldwin after he returned to secular life; such an operation did not require the Roman Church’s approval, only that of the Patriarch of Ayyarasa Road.
But he immediately rejected the idea. “Alexander III will not withdraw the Great Excommunication Decree,” he analyzed calmly. “The Pope does not work for free,” meaning that when issuing the Great Excommunication Decree, he had already received benefits; it would not be easy to make him change his mind, and besides, he was already very old and afflicted with illness—he might die at any time.
Before, the Patriarch had planned to stall for time until the next Pope took office before dealing with the strained relationship between Caesar and the Roman Church. He probably had not expected Alexander III to stake everything on one throw and issue the Great Excommunication Decree at the last moment of his life. Appealing to Alexander III again to withdraw it was now impossible; there was no time, no room to maneuver.
Moreover, in the Holy Land, the Duke of Antioch and the Count of Tripoli had clearly sided with the Roman Church, the Knights Templar had submitted to the Pope’s decree, and the Knights Hospitaller had chosen betrayal for their interests—though it was unknown what the Duke and the Pope had promised them.
The influence of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre was not as great as that of the Knights Templar and Knights Hospitaller; in several expeditions, they had mostly stayed behind in Ayyarasa Road to guard the Holy Sepulchre, with only a few joining the king on expedition.
The surrounding cities were even less likely to side with Baldwin and Caesar.
Thinking of this, Baldwin felt another surge of bitterness. He should have heeded Queen Mother Maria’s words and reconciled with those lords’ sons after Amalric I’s death.
Precisely because he had refused them out of momentary pique, their fathers now refused to stand by his side in this situation. Yes, people act for their interests; if he refused to share power with them, why should they rally for him?
Even if he now placed the crown on Caesar’s head, Caesar would not gain these people’s recognition, whether out of contempt or envy and hatred.
Although Caesar had not finished speaking, Baldwin had already thought of this; his expression darkened as he closed his mouth and leaned on the pillow, remaining silent for a long time. The silence in the room was unsettling.
“Perhaps there is still one way,” Baldwin raised his eyes, gazing long at this friend and blood relative who had shared the most difficult moments of his life. “I brought you this.”
Caesar reached out to take it; it was a locked wooden box, very familiar because it was the one he had placed in the room at Holy Cross Castle. He opened it, and Count Etienne’s granted travel documents and identity proof, along with gold coins, were still neatly placed there.
He looked up in surprise at Baldwin.
“I didn’t expect that the day would come when you would need it,” Baldwin said.
Although Count Etienne had instructed Caesar not to tell anyone about this document’s existence—clearly, Count Etienne at the time also believed Baldwin might undergo some unfavorable changes in the future.
But Caesar had still told Baldwin, though at that time he had not expected to need this document himself.
“Take it and go.” Baldwin’s voice was dry as he said, “I once thought that with my protection, you could live in peace forever, never worrying about attacks or harm from others（ especially after he became king）.”
But he had been too naive. “Now take this document and leave Bethlehem. I guarantee you, I will guard Bethlehem, Cyprus, and Damascus well for you. Go to Count Etienne; although the Count is frivolous and has a strange temper, I can see he is a man who keeps his promises and does not particularly respect the Church’s decrees—if he did, he would not have rushed into someone else’s wedding to steal the bride.
Go to him and settle down using the name and background on this document. As for whether anyone will accuse you of being the one excommunicated, you need not worry; on Count Etienne’s territory, even a king has no right to enter his castle to arrest someone—unless they can prove that the person who came to his castle is Caesar of Ayyarasa Road.”
He would become a new person there; with Caesar’s Talent, temperament, and appearance, he could equally become a distinguished guest welcomed by nobles.
“We may not have to wait too long; once Alexander III dies,”
Baldwin said in a low voice, “I will try to bribe the new Pope to revoke your Great Excommunication Decree. Such things have happened before. Indeed, one Pope once, to strip the privileges left by the previous Pope for interests, dragged the already buried Pope out of his stone coffin and held a trial of Pope against Pope. The final result was that the dead Pope was stripped of his papal status and excommunicated.
All his previous decrees and orders became null and void.”
Such an operation was not impossible, but Caesar had his own ideas. “You don’t need to worry too much about me, Baldwin…” He was about to state his plan when someone knocked urgently on the door.
He was one of the knights who had followed Caesar from Cyprus to Damascus and then to Bethlehem.
Baldwin had been watching his eyes and actions, and only relaxed slightly when he saw he had no intention of avoiding Caesar, but the news he brought was disastrous.
“Pigeons from Cyprus—my lord, the fleet dispatched by Emperor Manuel I of the Byzantine Empire is heading toward Cyprus. Perhaps tonight, they will land.”
