Chapter 100: The Death of the King (8)

The King let out a long sigh, and then he died.

As soon as Baldwin saw the candle fall from Amalric I's hand and extinguish, he knew that he had left him forever. He opened his mouth, wanting to cry, but fainted the next moment. Fortunately, Cesar had always been by his side. Cesar hugged him, holding his shoulders tightly, as if to throw his own courage and strength into his friend, so that he would not suffer too much torture.

The cleric beside him had already rushed out to inform the people outside the tent of this bad news, but there was no need for them to say much. Raymond, Count of Tripoli, and Bohemond, Duke of Antioch, the two important figures in Jerusalem and the most important vassals, immediately prostrated themselves on the ground, kneeling on that familiar yet strange body, and cried loudly.

Their crying was like the bell that could not ring at this time—although they were prepared, Heraclius, who rushed over, still felt dizzy. The cleric beside him hurriedly supported him. He stumbled into the tent, holding a candle, to look at the King's face.

Amalric I's face was very peaceful, or rather, relieved. He had done everything he should do as a Christian, a King, and a father. Next, everything in the world had nothing to do with him, or it could be said that he had handed them over to God, just waiting for God to give guidance and tell the people struggling in this world where they should go.

As a virtuous monk said, when a person leaves the world, he will inevitably feel regret, which is a matter of course, but at the same time, he should maintain calmness and simplicity, just as he was when he was born.

People at this time would often call the deceased a "newly departed," as if he were not dead, but had gone to a new place.

And at this time, Baldwin also woke up with Cesar's help. He was Amalric I's only son, and every subsequent thing needed his presiding and participation. Raymond stood up, took the young man from Cesar's hand, and hugged him into his arms, while Bohemond was a step slower.

Clearly, the latter's sincerity was not as good as the former's. It could be seen from his expression—although he had resentment toward Amalric I's distrust before, when his close friend and monarch left, his grief was unquestionable, and hugging Baldwin was also out of an elder's pity for a junior.

And although Bohemond also had some sincerity, judging from his suspicious eyes, he had regained his reason, worrying that Raymond wanted to fight for power with Baldwin when Prince Baldwin was at his most vulnerable.

Heraclius saw all this in his eyes and only felt exhausted.

If Amalric I had died in Jerusalem, there should be a dedicated "announcer of death" to inform the unfortunate news everywhere in the city, but at this time, only six knights could temporarily act as them. They wore dark blue robes with an image of the Virgin Mary embroidered on the back (these were all prepared in a hurry), held crosses, mounted their horses, and galloped to each camp to announce the death.

This even included the Saracens' location. Shirkuh and Saladin listened and solemnly conveyed their respect for the deceased and their condolences to his descendants and friends, and presented a large box of frankincense.

Frankincense was indeed something used in the funerals of both Saracens and Christians. When they brought this gift back to the King's tent, people had already lit fires and thrown spices into them, just like burning spices during mass and worship. People also believed that these fragrant breaths would lead the soul of the deceased to heaven.

The King's shell left in the world had been moved out of the tent and laid flat on a flat stone. Two knights' wives had followed the announcers here, and they would take on an important task, which was to wash Amalric I's body.

But before that, Baldwin insisted on shaving and cutting the King's hair first. This should also be done by a male relative. Baldwin's hands, although treated, still could not do fine movements. Raymond stepped forward without hesitation, but was politely declined by Baldwin, because according to custom, the status of this male relative should be lower than the deceased.

The Count of Tripoli was a vassal of the King of Jerusalem, but Raymond was Amalric I's cousin.

"Let Cesar do it for me," he said. "He is my brother."

Raymond's cheeks twitched violently. His son David was also in the expeditionary team, but he broke his leg on the first day of the siege. Although it would not leave a disability, he could only be sent back to Gaza. Now he was not here. If he were here, Raymond could still fight for it. At this time, he could not argue with Baldwin and had to take a step back.

Compared to him, Bohemond was much more composed. Not to mention that Abigail was still in Antioch, even if he were here, Bohemond would not let him go to take humiliation. He knew his son too well. He was a coward. It was fine to ask him to kill, but to ask him to touch a dead person's face and do the final trimming and organizing, it would be a miracle if he did not make a mistake!

Cesar stroked Baldwin's spine and stepped forward. Heraclius handed over a sharp small knife: "Is it okay?" he asked in a low voice. If Cesar made a mistake in this matter, he did not know how many people would be happy to watch the joke, and he could not guarantee whether Baldwin would have a grudge because of this.

Cesar nodded. He was not a ten-year-old child after all.

He carefully shaved off the dark blue stubble for Amalric I, trimmed his sideburns, and even cut the hair behind his head, at the roots of his ears, and on his forehead neatly, without any protruding or concave places. He also borrowed linen from the wives and wiped the King's face clean—he did not divert any attention until he finished all this.

Cesar felt that the King deserved this respect. Regardless of the cause, and what happened later, if it were not for Amalric I, he would just be a pile of nameless white bones in the Judean mountains.

Two wives curtsied to Cesar and took over the subsequent work. They first cut the original clothes on the King's body, then wiped him clean from top to bottom, and finally used cotton mixed with balm to block the natural orifices, and changed him into the prepared clothes—Amalric I had already instructed Heraclius before. Although he would not be so hypocritical as to wrap himself in linen like a bitter monk, he did not need to wear three shirts, two long robes...

Just like usual, the King only wore a long inner garment, put on silver-plated chainmail, wore the robe of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre, and people placed his hands crossed on his chest, put a long sword beside him, put on a crown, wore short boots, and placed him in a litter made of cedar wood and repainted with black lacquer.

This litter originally belonged to a noblewoman. She could be said to be honored to offer it: "Being the resting place of such a saint is far better than my ten years of bitter practice." The clerics also thought so and offered to testify for her.

This was also the misfortune among misfortunes. When the King launched the expedition, it was already September, and now it was December. The weather was cold, otherwise people would have been forced to boil him—literally boil him. People at this time did not have any good "preservation methods," so they could only cut him open, add wine, and boil him, leaving only the bones in a box to take away.

According to tradition, people found four pure black horses, fixed the litter between them, and prepared to take the King back to Jerusalem in this way.

But before that, people had to guard the King for one night. This night, besides mourning and grieving, was also to prevent some people from taking risks and stealing part of the King's body.

Some people might be confused, why steal this? Christians at this time did not pay attention to the integrity of the body, otherwise there would not be the previous practice. But Amalric I was the Lord of the Holy Land and died while attacking pagans. His sainthood could almost be said to be incomparably certain. Modern people might feel absurd, but people at this time knew very well to strike first.

Baldwin had been drowsy because of excessive grief and temporarily unable to accept the fact. He leaned beside Cesar, grabbing his arm, not leaving for a moment. Even Heraclius or Raymond could not make him stay away slightly. Cesar shook his head slightly at his teacher, asked for a glass of wine mixed with honey and salt, and forced Baldwin to drink it.

"We are leaving tomorrow," he whispered. "Your father would not want to see you like this."

Baldwin drank the wine and forced himself to swallow a few pieces of cheese and grease.

——————

The Saracens had been paying attention to the movements of the Christians. At dawn the next day, they also saw the deep black litter and the four black horses that were like messengers of the dead: "They are leaving," Shirkuh said.

Saladin just nodded slightly.

Their negotiations with the Christians did not continue, and there was no need for negotiations. The Christians lowered the ransom for Bilbeis to 500,000 gold coins, and Shirkuh could afford this money—not to mention the huge sum of money Shawar left them, and the Christians lowered it so decisively because Baldwin gave up the part belonging to his father.

These 500,000 gold coins would be distributed to all Crusader knights without leaving one.

At the beginning, Shirkuh was not so willing. Although he listened to his nephew's advice, any army, first experiencing a long siege, and then being driven out by a fire after entering the city, losing their armor and weapons, covered in smoke and dust, and their King and commander died—whoever it was, they would want to try whether they could keep them here.

And then he saw the army surrounding the black litter start to move.

The first person to cry was hard to trace. It might be Raymond, or it might be Richard, but the first person people saw holding a dagger to the roots of his hair and cutting off all his half-long brown hair and throwing it on the ground was definitely Prince Baldwin. Baldwin also wanted to draw blood on his arms and face, but was stopped by Cesar—he cut his own face, arms, and chest on behalf of the Prince. The blood flowed down just like the tears Baldwin shed.

Knights stepped forward one by one. They either cut off their hair like the Prince, or cut their skin like Cesar, letting the blood flow, or both. Richard threw a white mink cloak that was priceless under the hooves to be trampled by people. Raymond and Bohemond also threw down their silk robes. If they did not do this, they could not let others know how deep their grief was.

Shirkuh looked at this scene. Although there was such a tradition among the Saracens, there were never so many. He counted one by one and stopped at ninety-something. Saladin helped him count. Saladin's math was much better than his uncle's. "Seven hundred and sixteen," he stopped until the motorcade finally started to move slowly.

Shirkuh took a deep breath. Seven hundred and sixteen. Even excluding those barons who had to express something, or the King's blood relatives, seven hundred knights were willing to abandon those things they usually cherished, which showed that they were also willing to sacrifice their lives for Amalric I—after all, these things were almost all obtained by them regardless of life and death in tournaments or duels.

"This is the Christians' luck," Saladin said.

Indeed, if Shawar had not made a desperate attempt to kill the Christian King, the Christians had suffered such a setback, their morale might have been completely destroyed. But who let Amalric I die.

And he did not die humbly, ridiculously, or contemptibly. Even though he stepped into the Saracens' trap, he still led his vassals and followers out of the fire.

Although he was destined to die, before that, he still completely fulfilled his obligations as a King and commander. He announced his will, fairly distributed all the spoils and remuneration of this battle, completed the negotiations (even if he did not show up), and ensured that those who were still alive could return home safely.

Although his son, the young man who was said to have leprosy but received a blessing, did not seem to get any benefits from this expedition, Amalric I's final actions were already a very rich legacy for him—his father died like a hero whose ambitions were not fulfilled, and as his only successor, no one could question the courage and piety he inherited from his father!

"What a pity," Shirkuh said: "Have you seen that child? Do you think he will be the second Al-Adid, or the second Al-Aziz (a monarch during the heyday of the Fatimid dynasty)?"

"Should be the latter," Saladin said: "After all, there is such a person beside him."

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 101 =====