Chapter 102: The Funeral and the Wedding (Part II) (14,000 collections bonus)

Among the noblewomen present, some, like Damara, were immediately radiant with joy; others wore expressions of displeasure—simply because they, too, had a brother or a lover they hoped might occupy Cesar's current position. Still others were stealing glances at Princess Sibylla. Indeed, Sibylla was over a decade older than the little Princess Isabella; she was now like a flower in full bloom on a tree, her ovary plump, waiting only to bear fruit...

But who could help it when her husband was Abigail of Antioch? To tell a dark joke, let alone Baldwin and the other vassals and generals of the Holy Land, even Princess Sibylla herself did not think much of Abigail. Previously, it was precisely because she had so underestimated this young man, causing him to commit an act that nearly became irreversible, that Bohemond had flown into a rage and had Abigail escorted back to Antioch—"carried in iron shackles like a criminal," as one knight put it.

Many had witnessed this scene with their own eyes. It could be said that if Bohemond had a second son, he would have simply killed Abigail. If Abigail had used such a conspiracy against the Saracens, or for the sake of national or personal grievances and interests, people would only call him insidious and cunning, just like his father Bohemond, and would not say much more—but for the sake of a woman...

Do not be fooled by the knights proclaiming their love for their mistresses, even willing to die for them; everyone understood this was merely a pretext to boast of their martial prowess. If there were no noblewomen, they would just as readily fight to the death over whose goat's fleece was shinier... A fellow who had truly and brazenly violated the laws of hospitality for the sake of beauty, and nearly caused two kings to fall out, would only be met with their sneers.

The only person who felt happy about this marriage was likely Abigail himself.

If it were possible, Princess Sibylla would certainly have wanted to send Abigail to Baldwin's side; Abigail had originally been Baldwin's page, after all. But looking at Baldwin's attitude, from now on, or rather, for a very long time to come, no one would be able to compare to Cesar—and as for whether Princess Sibylla's son or Princess Isabella's son would eventually inherit the throne, Baldwin's opinion would inevitably carry great weight.

No, perhaps by that time, the Knight of Bethlehem might also possess a crucial vote.

Princess Sibylla knew her unease also stemmed from another terrifying past event, which was—she had once suggested to Baldwin that she would find a way to orchestrate an accident, to create an irreparable and intolerable flaw for Cesar, so that he would not lose his original heart due to people's praise and become arrogant, or even dare to ride roughshod over his master...

Although Baldwin had rejected her proposal, ever since then, whenever Princess Sibylla saw Cesar, she would suspect whether Baldwin had told him about that matter. She would tell herself it couldn't be, that Baldwin loved her dearly, while simultaneously worrying that Baldwin might have simply let it slip, or that someone else had eavesdropped on their conversation and told Cesar.

Although Cesar's attitude toward her remained consistent, he did not know about this matter. Baldwin indeed loved his sister Sibylla very much; even toward his best friend, he remained tight-lipped. He worried that they would develop resentment because of this misunderstanding, which would in turn create an unbridgeable rift.

But we already know what kind of person Sibylla was; such a person would only view others as being just like herself.

Her resentment and fear climbed as Cesar's importance increased step by step. He became Baldwin's servant, then his page, then a student of Patriarch Heraclius, and later entered into a mutual contract with Baldwin.

Although Cesar's enemies still cursed him as an Isaacite slave, they could not deny that his future was bright and flat, visible to the end at a single glance. Baldwin had now received God's blessing; even if he were still to die before the age of thirty, he would have nearly fifteen years of reign. And during these fifteen years, he would inevitably bestow power, wealth, and honor upon the person he trusted most, having him stand by his side to receive the obeisance of the people.

Who else could that person be?

It certainly wouldn't be the likes of David, Abigail, and others who had immediately abandoned him without looking back the moment they learned he was ill.

Princess Sibylla also knew that after Baldwin received the blessing, the King had asked him if he needed new pages, but Baldwin had rejected them all; he only needed Cesar.

Heaven knows how many people hoped Cesar would make some mistake, anger Baldwin the King, and then fall from the highest peak into the mud—but unfortunately, they were all disappointed in the end. Some had even begun to admit, albeit unwillingly, that perhaps Cesar's birth was indeed not low.

They simply could not imagine that the son of a craftsman or a farmer could achieve so many things they themselves could not.

Not to mention Cesar's good reputation among the knights, the clergy and monks of Al-Asar, and the pilgrims; they liked him, which was even more frightening than their reverence for him.

But for Princess Sibylla, the better Cesar was, the worse she felt. She expended great effort to keep herself from saying anything vicious.

But as soon as Baldwin and Cesar took their leave, she stood up as well, bade a cold farewell to her stepmother—without even looking at her own birth mother—and returned to her room.

After returning to her room, Sibylla immediately called for a maid, "Abigail will arrive at the Holy Cross Fortress today. You send two servants to meet him and tell him to come to my room immediately." The maid looked hesitant; this behavior could hardly be called decent, but Princess Sibylla just waved her hand impatiently. She did not want to meet Abigail so urgently either.

But she could imagine how overjoyed and smug that idiot Abigail would be upon hearing he could marry her. And at such a critical and solemn moment, if he showed any trace of it, or even said some bastard words like "That's great," Baldwin would absolutely not spare him.

It must be said that Princess Sibylla's understanding of Abigail was truly profound, but unfortunately, the servants she sent were unable to intercept him. He had gotten into a fight with several knights before the drawbridge and was dragged before Baldwin.

Baldwin pressed his temples; his father often did this. At the time, he had been somewhat puzzled by the meaning, but now he too felt that sensation—irritation, disgust, and even more, anger.

He recognized these two knights; after all, they had just walked out from before him, carrying his rewards.

It was Cesar who had suggested giving some rewards to those knights who had mourned for the King.

Baldwin had been drowsy and sluggish at that time, preoccupied only with weeping and sorrow, and had no time to attend to external matters. But Cesar had seen clearly how those knights had ridden in, thrown down those precious items before the King's coffin, and slashed their own faces and arms in mourning.

So when the army turned back to Ghashalafa, Cesar reminded Baldwin not to forget these respectable men.

Hearing his words, Baldwin could not help but feel a pang of annoyance. As we said before, most of the knights who came to participate in the expedition did so to gain some honor and wealth, perhaps even land. Now the land was certainly gone, and they could not return empty-handed. After all, they were originally the neglected second sons or youngest sons of their families, like Longinus.

Their families were unable to provide further support and help to a second son, so they could only go out and fight, wander, and find a way out for themselves.

And for them, the Crusade was undoubtedly a grand gamble. If they won, their descendants would still be knights, would not fall from their existing class, and might even rise a level higher to become the King's generals or ministers.

But if they returned home empty-handed, for the sake of a livelihood, they could only lower their heads and beg their elder brothers or their brothers' sons for a position as a steward.

But do not think that becoming a steward means you can be worry-free, unless they have no descendants. If they have descendants, then when the elder brother's son has several sons of his own, they will continue to fall downward, becoming craftsmen in a village, and even a craftsman might not be able to last long.

If their descendants fail to find a suitable opportunity, following the lord to war or becoming monks, they might become the most ordinary tenant farmers.

Do you think tenant farmers are the lowest class? No, they might be plundered, they might be bought and sold, and perhaps after a few generations, they will turn from the descendants of a lord into nameless serfs.

Such things might not be many, but they have indeed happened.

It is also possible that in their own generation, they might be driven to become bandits because they have nowhere else to turn, and finally be stripped of their knighthood and hanged from a tree branch. This might even be considered a good way out; at least they don't have to watch their descendants suffer.

But when these knights held a simple heart to mourn for the King, they threw their most precious things onto the ground without hesitation, burying them in the dust, without considering at all what they would do after they returned?

They might gain the appreciation of local lords for this act, and some might be moved by their loyalty and write them a letter of recommendation, but in the end, they had lost an important asset for Amalric I.

Cesar did not know how people did things at this time.

But since Heraclius had once said: if a master accepts a gift from a guest, he should return something even more precious to the guest, then Baldwin should not ignore those loyal and pious knights and let them return empty-handed.

Baldwin immediately realized his oversight. At Ghashalafa, he gathered the knights who had mourned for his father. He patiently asked them what treasures they had each offered while mourning the King, and then repaid them double according to the value of those treasures.

For those knights who were injured, he would also provide an additional gift of money so they could find a cleric for treatment.

In this way, they received over five hundred knights in Ghashalafa alone, plus more than two hundred who followed to Al-Asar and others who heard the unfortunate news later and rushed to offer their condolences; the number eventually increased to over two thousand.

Raymond did not quite approve at first. Of course, such behavior was worthy of praise and befitted the demeanor a king should have.

But the problem was that this expense was truly staggering. Although there were the spoils and gifts from Fustat and Bilbeis (those of the Saracens), the treasury of Al-Asar was not empty, but this money was enough to build an army.

Baldwin's inquiry completely exceeded the expectations of these knights. They certainly knew Baldwin; after all, he was a youth like King David, and he had a page like Saint John by his side, but he was still a fourteen-year-old child after all.

What they did not expect was that not only did he not indulge too wantonly in his own sorrow and anger, but he could also remember them in the midst of extreme grief.

The knights could certainly understand Baldwin's good intentions. They had this experience, had seen a saint depart with their own eyes, and could now receive this money. Then, when they returned to their hometowns, they would naturally not be troubled by their past predicaments.

Immediately, some knights knelt down and swore that although they owed loyalty to another master, after they fulfilled their obligations to that master, no matter when Baldwin summoned them, they would immediately don their chainmail, take up their spears, and ride day and night without a moment's hesitation.

And these two knights were the ones who had sworn to Baldwin. Baldwin was effectively their second master. While they were waiting for the drawbridge to open, they heard someone nearby spouting nonsense, insulting the departed King and Prince Baldwin, so they immediately got into a fight with him and dragged him before Baldwin.

"Call Bohemond," Baldwin said.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 103 =====