Chapter 5: Baldwin And Holy Cross Castle
“He is Caesar,” Amalric I said: “He will be your attendant.”
Caesar, without a surname, Baldwin guessed that this child might be of low birth, or worse, a slave—he guessed right, because only slaves of unknown status lacked even the prefix representing their birthplace—even commoners without surnames would be called Joseph’s of Amman or Baldwin of Galilee.
“But father,” he still looked at this boy about his own age, with fair skin, thick eyebrows, without a single rash or spot—he was not a leper: “I already have many attendants, and servants.”
“You do not,” Amalric I said mildly: “Do you think I do not know?”
Baldwin turned his gaze to his father, now he could clearly see every detail on the king’s face, a heat seemed about to burst from his eye sockets, “You know?”
“I know,” Amalric I said: “I have always known, and I have been waiting, son, why do you not punish them severely?”
“I thought I would soon become a monk, and monks do not need servants.” Baldwin said: “And for these people, being driven out, returning to being a humble farmer or laborer, is enough to make them suffer.”
“Your understanding of benevolence far exceeds any of us.” Amalric I said.
“So please take this child away.” Baldwin said: “God has given him such a countenance, not to serve a leper.”
“He serves my son first, the future master of the Holy City, Prince Baldwin, and only then a leper.” Amalric I said: “This is also his own choice.”
“How dare a mere commoner defy the king?” Baldwin said sadly: “You have army, priests, and gold. But these three things cannot dispel people’s fear of disability or even death.”
“And one more,” without permission, Caesar said: “A heavy grace, far more valuable than army, priests, and gold. Your father saved me, not only my life, but also my honor, I am very willing to exert a little effort to return the favor.”
As Baldwin looked at him, Caesar was also looking at Baldwin, although there was only one person in the room, Baldwin still carefully wore the hard veil like a mask and gloves, but through the hard gauze, one could still see that Baldwin should be a boy with elegant features.
“Have you seen a leper,” Baldwin said to the boy: “You do not know how terrible it is, you do not know what price you will pay.”
The god of luck’s favor on Caesar might far exceed his imagination, he not only met a superior like Amalric I—he even willing to give a former slave a chance to choose, his son Baldwin also seemed not the kind who would shift his misfortune, take it out on others, a pitiful and hateful sort—Caesar had seen many such people, you could not even blame them excessively, because they had indeed suffered almost unbearable hardship.
This was much better than he had originally envisioned.
“I see it as a trial,” Caesar said: “If I do not contract the disease, it means that God sent me to care for Your…”
“What if you contract the disease?”
“Then it means God thinks Your trial should have a companion to share the bitterness.”
“Companion…” Baldwin said: “Perhaps even a friend.” His resolve clearly wavered, in these months he had lost all his friends, now he longed for unblemished deep friendship like the desert thirsts for sweet rain: “Alright, if you insist, if God is willing to show us mercy…” He looked at Amalric I: “Will you give him a holy office?”
“No holy office,” Amalric I said cheerfully: “Baldwin, he will be your attendant, perhaps in the future your knight and minister,” as his son went from puzzled to horrified, finally settling on excitement and joy, he continued: “I have not abandoned you, even if you have leprosy, you are still my heir, the future king of the Holy City of Ayyarasa Road.” He paused: “Come to me.”
Baldwin hesitated, walked over, stopping one step from Amalric I.
Amalric I reached out both hands and pressed the child’s slender shoulders: “Remember one thing, my son, in Ayyarasa Road, even on the entire Arabian Peninsula, besides God, you need only obey one person, that is me, no matter what others say, as long as I have not deposed you, not abandoned you, not ignored you—you have nothing to worry about, your future will not change.”
“Can I trust you?”
“As we trust our Father in heaven.”
“Then I trust you.” Baldwin said, he raised his hand, also grasped his father’s arm, rested his head on his chest.
Amalric I quietly embraced Baldwin for a while, he was not afraid, nor did he think heaven would be so cruel, but he also knew such opportunities would become fewer. Until he could delay no longer, he gently stroked Baldwin’s forehead, “Alright,” he said softly: “Now go back to your little companion.”
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After Amalric I left, the room fell into a subtle silence, neither Caesar nor Baldwin were the type to play with words, nor did they know how to start a conversation.
It was only much later, when they could confide in each other, that Caesar learned that Baldwin at this time still feared seeing eyes full of fear and disgust.
Even though Caesar had clearly stated he came to serve out of gratitude, Baldwin had seen too many poor performances of false words before; and Caesar at this time did not know how to face this unfortunate child, leprosy was still a painful disease even centuries later, let alone Baldwin…
He was the king’s son, the sole heir of Ayyarasa Road, contracting leprosy meant overnight, heaven and earth turned upside down, falling from the clouds into the mire.
After a good while, Baldwin stood up, walked to the corner of the room: “Can you read the water clock?” He pointed to a complex mechanical device for Caesar to see. In the monastery Caesar had seen many timekeeping tools, sundials, hourglasses, candle clocks, and water clocks, water clocks were a Saracen product, but due to their precision and accuracy were also used by Christians.
As the only son of the king of Ayyarasa Road, Baldwin’s treatment was of course not poor, the water clock in the corner of the room was a “water-receiving type”, so at the top there was a large round-bellied glass bottle, below a small brass scribe sitting on scales, holding a quill pen in his hand, the tip pointing to the time scale, “It is the hour of Shen Zheng.” Caesar said, roughly modern two to three a.m.
Not mentioning it was fine, but mentioning this time, Caesar suddenly felt his eyes dry and body weak, “You sleep on the bedside cart.” Baldwin said.
As the name implies, the bedside cart was a low bed with wheels on the four corners, which could be pushed under the main bed, considering the prince’s attendant was also a noble person, the bedside cart’s size and material were not inferior to the main bed, its bed surface was stretched with cowhide straps, piled with clean rush, sprinkled with spice.
Because it was still September, no fur was laid, only linen bedsheet, but piled with two feather pillows, Caesar wrapped himself in the wool cloak given by Abbot John, hurriedly said “Sleep well.”, and uncontrollably sank into slumber.
Baldwin felt he would inevitably have trouble sleeping tonight, but when even breathing came, he immediately fell asleep.
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When they woke, sunlight was piercing into the room like golden arrows through the gaps in the tapestry and windows, Baldwin was surprised he had slept so deeply, Caesar was surprised that a Highness’s door would be knocked so heavily and roughly.
He alertly propped himself up from the bedside cart, gripping a dagger.
But Baldwin shook his head: “It is the servants,” he said: “They come to deliver the morning water.” As Caesar was about to go over, he was called back, and given a silver coin in his hand.
Caesar felt puzzled, but still took it, he opened the door, and saw a short man standing on the spiral stairs, four or five steps away, at his feet two large copper pots, one emitting faint steam from the small spout.
He looked around incessantly, even upon seeing Caesar, did not approach, just stood in place and opened his palm, Caesar tossed the silver coin to him, he caught it and immediately scampered down, more agile than a weasel.
He lent Caesar some powder for cleaning teeth, monks used plain pumice powder or shell powder, Baldwin’s was rock salt, dried iris flowers, mint, and pepper.
When the last bit of water was poured into the silver basin, visible grayish debris could be seen, Caesar frowned, Baldwin looked accustomed: “The water is clean,” he said: “Just with a bit of salt added.”
After the two cleaned their faces and teeth, Baldwin took dates from a gold box and shared with Caesar, dates were a specialty of the Arabian Peninsula, far sweeter than cane sugar and honey, but suitable for them. People at this time only ate at noon and evening, as boys in growth, they could not endure it.
The time after matins Baldwin usually used for reading, today he used it to instruct his new attendant on clothing. Caesar was still wearing the clothes he left the monastery in, linen long undergarment, long socks, and a wool robe, with a thin cord as belt.
“As a monastery attendant boy, your clothing is not improper at all, but as a prince’s attendant, your attire will cause much dissatisfaction and mockery—your build is similar to mine,” Baldwin said: “Just slimmer, tighten the belt.”
He opened the chest, let Caesar put on a deep green thick satin coat, fastened with a copper-buckled leather belt, pulled on bright red thin wool hose, put on yellow silk gloves, took a pair of deerskin boots from another box, took a dagger from the wall and hung it on that leather belt.
Finally, he took out a heavy silver cross for Caesar to hang around his neck.
Caesar was originally handsome and upright, after this attire, he was no worse than Baldwin, so much so that when castle steward Cram saw him, he thought he was some lord’s son.
Then he felt a bit relieved—as castle steward, he was responsible for recruiting and managing all servants, Amalric I directly bringing Caesar to Baldwin made him very uneasy, given that the servants he had previously sought on the king’s orders had not been approved by the prince, he could not help worrying this would be a bad omen.
But now it seemed, if the king’s requirement was modeled on this child, whoever blamed him for not carefully selecting servants for the prince would be nitpicking.
Cram was acting on the king’s orders, to take Caesar to familiarize himself with this castle. Previously Amalric I had briefly described the general layout of Holy Cross Castle to Caesar, but the specifics he had to explore and feel himself.
Caesar’s impression was, rather than calling it a huge castle, it was more like a miniature city.
Later generations always imagine castles, especially ones like Holy Cross Castle that served both political and military functions, as how solemn, silent, and dignified, in fact, there were fishermen fishing in the moat, the wide area between outer city wall and inner city wall was the merchants’ domain, further in, the dusty square bustled with people, noisy, horses and mules idly snorting, occasionally stepping aside to relieve themselves.
In the open-air ironware workshop sparks flew, black slag stones stood like signs by the pillars, several weapons and chainmail laid on the long table, finished products also samples for viewing, the blacksmith and his apprentices bargained with knights or escorts while vigorously working.
And in a tent on the other side, two leather merchants were idly playing chess, letting several attendant boys circle around ornately decorated saddles—they did not even have their own horses, of course not their expected customers.
A Templar Knight in a white robe embroidered with a red cross and a Knights Hospitaller in a black robe embroidered with a white cross stood like two bulls, not far from them, arguing over ownership of a fine Gaulish horse, finally deciding to go to a small open space in the shadow of the city wall, to decide with sword who was the master of this fine horse.
The two knights’ duel drew a large crowd, Cram watched with relish to the end, then satisfiedly released the guards who had long been eager, holding clubs, they gave a good beating to those servants who appeared here for whatever reason, to punish their laziness and negligence, the beaten servants half-genuinely wailed as they ran back to their workplaces—water room, kitchen, stables, slaughterhouse, and textile workshop, complaining amid companions’ mockery and spittle as they worked.
The tower’s basement had pools, but these were for emergency use when enemies breached the castle and holding the tower, the drinking and washing water for hundreds in the castle and livestock still fell to the water room, it reminded Caesar of later factory buildings, vast and tall, somewhat chilly due to the large stone brick reservoir.
Water from the Jordan River was diverted separately to the moat and dark aqueducts, the aqueduct water entered the pool after more than three purifications, the people here seemed more orderly than elsewhere, after all this could be considered a military stronghold.
Next to the water room were three large bread ovens with roaring fires, the fires here were rarely extinguished—they had to supply enough bread for hundreds or thousands, the adjacent kitchen was as spacious and high as the water room, dimly lit, air thick with heavy seawater smell—salty and fishy.
In the center of the house was a heavy wooden table large enough for a knight to gallop a horse on, opposite the stoves was a water channel, over a hundred large and small copper pots hung on the wall, baskets held large ladles, shovels, various cutting tools and weighing utensils.
Everyone here was busy processing the prey from yesterday’s hunting, to prevent rotting in the hot weather, whether fowl or beast, all to be skinned and defeathered, salted or smoked, to store longer.
