Chapter 10: Receiving Communion by Proxy

Heraclius did not tell the children the exact time and place—to avoid further trouble. To this day, Amalric I had not been able to find any clues regarding the source of the leprosy.

Just as Cesar had speculated, the closest gathering point for lepers to Al-Lazarus, a leper valley, was fifty miles away. Even if there were lepers hiding among the pilgrims, they could not easily approach Baldwin.

Baldwin was only nine years old and not even an attendant or squire. Except for a few rare hunting trips, his range of activities was limited to the inner city of the Castle of the Holy Cross. The people around him were either heirs of lords or sons of ministers, and they showed no signs of illness afterward. Could it be that God was truly dissatisfied with the actions of Godfrey and his descendants in refusing to hand over Al-Lazarus to His representative, and had sent an angel to punish him?

Heraclius and Amalric I were in complete agreement on this point: this was not a natural disaster; it could only be a man-made one.

To avoid a second man-made disaster, Heraclius would certainly not lay out his and the King's schemes in detail to a third person.

"There is one more thing you must do." Heraclius said again. "Tomorrow, when we hold Mass, you must receive Communion on behalf of Baldwin."

"Receive Communion by proxy?" Baldwin said in surprise. "Isn't this a grave sin of sacrilege?"

"Receiving Communion by proxy refers to the presumptuous behavior of those who have not been baptized, have not confessed, and have not received church rules or doctrines. You are not among them, Baldwin." Heraclius said calmly, showing no sign of how many times he and Amalric I had debated and argued with the Patriarch of the Holy Land over this matter in the past few days.

Baldwin breathed rapidly.

"Your father has spoken to you," Heraclius said. "You can trust him."

————————————

"How can he be placed before everyone else?" Abigail, the son of Bohemond, Prince of Antioch, stared fixedly at the black-haired boy standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Princess Sibylla.

"Because he is acting on behalf of Prince Baldwin," Bohemond said lazily in a low voice. "Of course he has this qualification."

"But he should also know his place," Abigail said fiercely. "Such a lowly fellow..." yet he could stand so close to her, the air between them overflowing with her fragrance.

Bohemond merely raised his eyes with contempt. He knew what his son was thinking—

"So, do you want to go?" He moved his lips, the volume similar to those around him, yet with a bit of ambiguity, ensuring only Abigail, who was leaning close to him, could hear. "I can request His Majesty to allow you to serve the Prince. The problem is," he shifted his knees slightly. The chapel of the Castle of the Holy Cross was located high in the main tower, but it still could not avoid being permeated by the coldness of the stone.

"Do you have the guts? To be by the side of a leper at all times? To hold his golden cup, carry his cloak, sleep under his bed, and breathe the air he exhales? Do you dare? If I remember correctly, as soon as you heard that the King's only son, your friend and future master, was a leper, you were so scared that you wept uncontrollably, your knees went weak, and you knelt on the ground, begging me bitterly never to be the Prince's attendant again."

Speaking to this point, the Prince even raised the corners of his lips. "You said you would rather become a cleric, go fight the Saracens, and die, than spend your days with a sinner punished by God."

Hearing his father say this, Abigail's face flushed red instantly. He moved his lips, breathing rapidly, but by the time the clerics finished a chapter, he still hadn't gathered enough courage, and in the end, he could only mumble, "He's just a slave..."

"'For they are My servants, whom I brought out of the land of Egypt; they shall not be sold as slaves.'" Bohemond repeated a passage from scripture (which we can find in *Leviticus*). "When Amalric I bought him from that Isaac slave merchant, he was no longer a slave."

Abigail was speechless. But for this stubborn young man to let go of the unwillingness in his heart was not easy. Bohemond could see at a glance what kind of malice was brewing in his heart, and he couldn't help but sigh in his heart at how he had such a mediocre eldest son.

Sibylla, the eldest daughter of the King of Al-Lazarus, was thirteen years old this year. Her waist was slender, her flower buds were swelling, and her lips, forehead, and cheeks were as bright as the morning sky even without rouge. Some said she was as pure and flawless as the Vestal Virgins of the Palatine Hill, while others said she had the wisdom and talent of the Queen of Sheba from Ma'rib. From the northernmost Galilee to the southernmost Khalil, those who wanted to be her husband were as numerous as the sand in the wilderness.

For such a beauty, even looking at the shadow she left in the dust was a blasphemy. Yet now, there was such a lowly slave who, just because he served as the Prince's attendant, could interact with the Princess like a close friend and receive the golden cup and holy bread from her hands. How could this not make a simple young man jealous?

Bohemond didn't care how Abigail admired the Princess. What he cared about was that his eldest son was so stupid that he couldn't see what he truly should grasp, putting the cart before the horse.

For a great noble like Bohemond, Sibylla's most valuable aspect was her right to inherit the Kingdom of Al-Lazarus.

The Kingdom of Al-Lazarus, the County of Tripoli, the Principality of Antioch, and the County of Edessa, which had perished a few years ago, as well as the Patriarch of the Holy Land, all recognized primogeniture (with male heirs prioritized). If the King had no male heir, his daughter could inherit everything he had and pass it to her husband. That is to say, if a kingdom had no heirs, an outsider could obtain a kingdom through marriage.

When King Godfrey I of Al-Lazarus strongly supported this system, it was because he had three daughters. These three daughters successively entered into marriage contracts with the masters of Antioch, Tripoli, and Edessa, and as Godfrey I had hoped, they briefly became regent queens after their husbands died—except for Edessa. Perhaps it was for this reason that the relationship between the former County of Edessa and the Kingdom of Al-Lazarus was very distant and cold, to the point that when it was attacked by the Saracens and the Amerians, Al-Lazarus, along with the other two allies, ignored previous promises and stood by.

Ironically, Bohemond thought in his heart, Godfrey I probably didn't expect that the inheritance law he set might not always be favorable to Al-Lazarus. After he died without heirs, his brother, the then-Count of Edessa, Baldwin, inherited Al-Lazarus. Unexpectedly, Baldwin's son, Baldwin II, also had no sons, and his kingdom had to be handed over to his son-in-law.

Baldwin II's grandson, Baldwin III, Bohemond, and Raymond of Tripoli were all his attendants, as well as friends and brothers. They spent their entire childhood and youth together in the Castle of the Holy Cross until Bohemond had to return to Antioch to fulfill his duties. But unsurprisingly, he would soon be recalled to Al-Lazarus to become Baldwin III's right-hand man, possessing immense power.

But fate played tricks on people. Baldwin III passed away suddenly, before he even had time to marry. His brother, the Count of Edessa, the later Amalric I, became the new master of Al-Lazarus. Although he also recalled Bohemond, truthfully speaking, the relationship between Bohemond and Amalric I was not close.

To make up for this deficiency, he sent his eldest son Abigail to the side of Amalric I's only son, little Baldwin, early on, hoping that he could be like him and establish a solid friendship with the future King.

To his disappointment, Abigail's relationship with little Baldwin was mediocre, or rather, he transferred all the energy and time he should have invested in the King's son to the King's daughter. However, after little Baldwin was discovered to have contracted leprosy, Bohemond's attitude changed from opposition to ambiguity—everyone knew that lepers didn't live long and couldn't let women have children.

But what annoyed the Prince of Antioch was that between Abigail and Sibylla, it was clearly Sibylla who held the upper hand. Given the lessons left by Godfrey's daughters, Bohemond couldn't help but worry that Abigail would eventually become a puppet manipulated at will by Sibylla.

And one of many.

There were not only Abigail among the young men here who admired the Princess. David of Tripoli, Eudes of the Templars, Roger of the Hospitallers, William of Apoler, Nash of Galilee, Guy of Arabia...

They had all been attendants to the King's son and friends of the brother Sibylla cherished most. Among them, there might be cowards like Abigail, but there were also youths as brave as David—who still requested to return to the Prince's side after learning that little Baldwin had contracted the disease.

Of course, Amalric I did not allow it.

Any one of these people, if they poured out even a little malice, would be enough for this attendant with no foundation or background to suffer. Bohemond thought while rolling his eyes in his heart. His stupid son didn't even think of this, but was impatient, the first to show an ugly and useless face—not thinking that if something happened to this boy, he would be the first scapegoat.

————————

Cesar took the golden cup.

To say he was completely unaware of the burning gazes and surging malice behind him would be a joke. In fact, in the chapel, perhaps apart from Amalric I, no one would have any goodwill toward him—the Crusaders were still fighting the Saracens, and he was cargo from an Isaac slave merchant, with an unknown background, worse than a bastard or a commoner. No one could guarantee he wouldn't be a spy, or a heathen.

If, he meant if, Amalric I had only let him be a lowly servant, these people wouldn't care at all.

But after Baldwin contracted leprosy, Amalric I had to bear two heavy pressures—on himself and on Baldwin. He had to be responsible for his country, fight for his faith, and bear the responsibility for his vassals and subjects... This pressure almost made him a bit crazy, to the point that his temperament became extreme.

The more they wanted Amalric I to strip his only son of his status, position, and power, the more he wanted to raise him to a height others couldn't reach. Even if Baldwin still couldn't leave his room, he would use the way of treating Cesar with extreme favor to tell others that his son was still the most noble heir of Al-Lazarus! Even one of his attendants had the qualification to look a Count's or Duke's son in the eye.

For some timid and cowardly people, this was simply a kind of torture, but for Cesar, this was nothing more than a responsibility equal to power. Unless he was willing to bear the intense inequality formed by bloodline and status in this era and this place, he wouldn't refuse.

The clerics' dissatisfaction accumulated more on the matter of "receiving Communion by proxy." "Such a thing has never happened before!" they shouted, because the wine and unleavened bread in the Mass represented the blood and flesh of Christ, so previously it could only be received by the believers themselves. If a believer was in a state of being unable to move, then a cleric would have to distribute the Eucharist personally, and would not let someone receive it by proxy.

But Baldwin's situation was different. Whether leprosy was God's punishment or God's test could not be determined for the time being. Although it was written in canon law that lepers could not perform sacraments, Amalric I was undoubtedly playing a borderline game.

However, no matter how they complained, Amalric I would not change his mind. Receiving Communion by proxy was just the first step. He would let everyone understand—Baldwin's status and position would not be shaken in the slightest because he was a leper.

Under the gaze of the crowd, Cesar held the golden cup containing wine and the unleavened bread wrapped in fine cotton cloth, and left through the secret passage behind the chapel. The person guarding the secret passage was a strong but gloomy-faced cleric who bowed to Cesar when he saw him and then opened the door.

The secret passage was narrow and permeated with a fishy smell peculiar to stone. Thin rays of light shot in from small holes in the walls, barely illuminating the steps. Cesar walked to the left tower a few minutes later.

Seeing him, Baldwin couldn't help but take a deep breath, and he felt relieved when he saw the Eucharist.

He took the unleavened bread from Cesar's hand, dipped it in the wine, and swallowed it in one gulp.

Originally, Baldwin wanted to ask carefully about the situation at the time and the reactions of the crowd, but before Cesar could put away the golden cup, a servant came—a new servant, because those predecessors who had been hanged were all as meek as lambs. Perhaps they would still mutter some bad words in their hearts, but things like when Witt was there, openly sprinkling salt to ward off evil spirits by the water, doors, and corridors, forcibly demanding rewards, slacking off, and drinking and gambling, did not happen again.

They came to report that Princess Sibylla had come to visit her brother.

By this time, they had already heard a series of sounds like small hammers hitting a xylophone; that was the sound of the Princess and her ladies-in-waiting's wooden or hard cowhide shoe soles hitting the stone steps.

There was also the rustling sound of silk and linen skirts rubbing against each other as they swept past walls and floors, as well as low whispers like nightingales chirping. Without seeing it with his own eyes, one could imagine what a lively and cute group of young girls they were.

"No need to ask your attendant to leave," a crisp and beautiful voice said outside the door. "These lovely ladies are here to see him."

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 11 =====