Chapter 132: The Mission

According to customary law and canon law, a birth certificate for a newborn should be in duplicate. The child's parents hold one copy, while the most credible church and monastery in the area keep the other. Once there is a need to declare bloodline and surname in matters of inheritance or other needs, these two documents will be brought out as the most powerful evidence.

But when Joscelin IV, that is, Cesar, and his sister were born, the situation at the time was truly strange and special. They were born in the enemy's castle, and those who delivered them, baptized them, and signed the birth certificate were all a group of prisoners. At this time, to insist that they find a church or monastery to keep a second birth certificate was to make things difficult for them.

Moreover, along with the birth certificate, wealth worth 200,000 gold coins was also taken out. Just having such a "proof" was enough to convince people.

But it must be said that this question was indeed tricky and vicious. The other party hit the weakest link in the whole matter—that is, these two children did indeed exist, but almost everyone who could prove that the two young people standing here now were those two children had died.

Even if they hadn't died, for example, Joscelin III and his wife—but these two children were sent away when they were three or four years old. Now they were adults. Without blood type and DNA testing, how could Joscelin III determine the identity of these two children? The certificate did not say that these two children had birthmarks or moles.

Although green eyes as clean and bright as Cesar's were indeed rare, one could not say there was no second pair in this world.

What if that pair of loyal servants did not complete the work entrusted by their master? They might not have been negligent or lazy, but the death of children was something seen everywhere in this period. From kings to farmers, everyone had the experience of watching their children gradually lose their breath—they might worry about being punished after their grief, or they might have other thoughts—no one knew if Joscelin III could leave the Saracen castle, and whether he and the Armenian princess would have more children.

They might adopt or buy two children to impersonate Joscelin III's true bloodline. After all, in Aleppo, the number of "goods" from slave merchants even exceeded that of cattle and horses. Natiya had common light brown eyes, and Cesar's green eyes were rare, but if one was willing to promise a large sum of money, it was not impossible to get them.

Baldwin IV glanced coldly at the official who raised the objection. He was a clerk under Raymond and was deeply trusted by this lord. But his statement would undoubtedly be remembered by the King, or rather, what Baldwin remembered was his master, Raymond—how could an ordinary official easily speak up about such a thing?

"I remember Joscelin II..." Bohemond whispered—of course, the people present could not have known Joscelin III, since he had been a captive of the Saracens since he was five! And with the complete fall of Edessa (Joscelin II also died as a captive in a Seljuk castle in '59), no one cared about Joscelin III anymore.

But Joscelin II was a typical knight with a rugged face and a sturdy build, and his wife, the Armenian princess, could not be called beautiful either. Their son should have been just a mediocre person, and if that Armenian princess who was Joscelin III's wife had been beautiful enough, Nur ad-Din would not have sent her out of his harem and let her enter into a marriage contract with a prisoner.

And their pair of children...

If Natiya could still be called beautiful and lovely, Cesar's appearance had already transcended most people's imagination of beauty. As he grew older, he was no longer as androgynous as he was in his childhood, becoming more and more like a drawn blade. Even before getting close, he made people feel a chilling cold—yet they couldn't help but want to get closer, even if they would be cut.

Although he was polite to people, there was always an indescribable, seemingly innate coldness, which made his inhuman feeling exceptionally vivid.

Could a child like this really be the child of Joscelin III and an Armenian woman?

Faced with this question that was difficult to defend, Natiya showed no panic or anger.

"Please cut this certificate open," she said, "The evidence is inside."

Such important certificates often used precious vellum. This leather was stripped from calves that had not yet seen the light of day and could be polished very thin and tough, making it difficult to tear.

So when Natiya said this, Patriarch Heraclius's first reaction was to reach out and pinch the vellum, finding that it was indeed thicker than ordinary vellum. But at that time, he only thought it was because the document had been preserved for too long or had accumulated too much dust in the long darkness.

Now looking at it this way, he discovered the problem—the growth texture and fiber direction of the front and back of the birth certificate were inconsistent. He walked a few steps, held it up, and looked at it against the scorching sun, indeed seeing a faint trace surrounding the vellum.

Could there be other things sealed inside?

But this thickness even deceived everyone here. If Natiya hadn't reminded them: "But this way, this certificate will be destroyed." The other certificate was in the hands of the Archbishop of Edessa. However, he had already lost his life in the Saracen prison. He only said that he had kept the certificate properly, but he had not told anyone the specific location.

Now this had become an unsolvable secret. Unless one day the Crusaders could capture Aleppo, at which point they could tear the entire prison into stone bricks to search.

But they only had this one document in their hands that could prove Natiya and Cesar's identity—Patriarch Heraclius thought for a while and decided to do this himself. As a cleric, he had walked for decades, and among the few things clerics were best at was how to make paper.

The paper here, of course, would not be the kind of paper made from plant fibers, but parchment and vellum. Every cleric had done the arduous work of stripping sheepskin, scraping off the fat, stretching it tight, drying it, and then brushing it with chalk and constantly polishing it to make it thin, light, and smooth.

The Patriarch asked his disciple to bring a small knife that had been made exceptionally sharp. The blade of the knife was a thin piece of obsidian. The service life of this kind of blade was very short; it either broke or shattered. But at this time, the craftsmanship of iron tools had not reached the standard created by nature. At least, it was difficult for a black iron knife to separate the two pieces of vellum that were glued together with almost no gap.

Under the gaze of the people, Heraclius took some time to peel off the two sheets of vellum. He was very patient and cautious. This identity certificate directly affected a large sum of money and the inheritance of the fief and title. Although the territory was now equivalent to nothing, if Cesar truly became Joscelin IV, then in the future, he could use this certificate to seek help from his monarch and colleagues, whether it was funds, men, or supplies.

After all, the Crusaders were a minority group in this land, and the countries they established had to work together and watch over each other to stand here under the repeated attacks of the infidels like surging waves.

After opening it, people saw that a very small pair of handprints and footprints were printed on the back of the vellum that wrote the identity certificate.

"What is this?"

"These are my and Cesar's hand and footprints," Natiya said nostalgically, "When we were born, my father used the most indelible dye, mixed with ointment, and let us leave our hand and footprints on this."

"I don't understand what use this has?"

"The Archbishop of Edessa once had an extremely accidental discovery. He felt that this discovery was very interesting and could prove God's omnipotence and omniscience. Because of this, he did a lot of research on it, involving hundreds of people, including merchants and craftsmen, and more were ordinary commoners or servants."

"In his research," Natiya said, "he found that the patterns on everyone's palms and soles were different. Whether they were nobles or beggars. After discovering this, he found many people to test, which lasted for several years—these patterns existed from the time they were born, became deep after growing up, and became shallow after getting old, but they would only grow proportionally and would not change their shape, width, and number of lines."

"Just after confirming this, he hadn't had time to preach everywhere—he believed this was a miracle God bestowed upon humanity, and also so that angels and saints could better distinguish mortal bodies—the city of Edessa was breached. He was captured and imprisoned in the Saracen castle. Before our father, Joscelin III, thought of sending us out, he had a premonition and urged our father to let us each press our hand and footprints on our own birth certificates."

She looked at Cesar: "Brother, find a blank piece of parchment and press your hand and footprints. I will do the same, and then let them compare. They will find that they are exactly the same."

The two hand and foot prints on the back of the birth certificate were indeed very clear. The patterns on them were also like being engraved on them, each one distinct. I don't know what they used, but until today, the color on them was only a bit dull, but not blurred or distorted.

The parchment was brought over quickly. Cesar and Natia wiped their hands and feet clean, and the maids, as if playing a game, covered their palms and soles with bright red rouge, then gently pressed them onto the parchment, leaving behind their current handprints and footprints.

Before it dried, people couldn't wait to compare them. For them, even if it had nothing to do with the inheritance of a territory, this discovery was quite amazing. And after comparison, it was indeed as Natiya said, the two sets of prints, regardless of size, were exactly the same, whether in shape, distance, or where they broke. At this point, Natiya and Cesar's identity needed no more words; they were indeed the pair of children of Count Joscelin III of Edessa.

Moreover, not long after, news came from Aleppo—the envoy had been forced to participate in this inheritance case. Originally, he could have stood by and watched coldly. Count Joscelin III of Edessa belonged to Nur ad-Din, and no matter who he would be handed over to in the future, it would not be a Christian.

Things obtained through war must, of course, be reclaimed through war. But Cesar's good deeds indeed touched the softest part of his cold heart. He immediately sent a messenger back to Aleppo, and news soon came from Aleppo—given that Cesar had served their father, Sultan Nur ad-Din, they were also willing to pardon his father, so that their father and son could be reunited.

This made the subsequent negotiations even softer and faster. Aleppo first proposed to release Count Joscelin III and his wife—no ransom needed. And the King of Jerusalem immediately returned the favor. The Saracens could take back the remains of Sultan Nur ad-Din, also without ransom, and would not be disturbed in any way on the way back.

This matter could be said to be happy for everyone. Even the Saracens had to sigh that perhaps this was fate. This made them feel much more composed about Sultan Nur ad-Din's great defeat and death by the Sea of Galilee. Perhaps, as that Christian knight said, he had only fulfilled his duties on earth, and it was time to return to heaven.

————

"I have something I want you to do," Heraclius said: "Although it is dangerous and not so aboveboard, the timing is too good, and the reason is sufficient enough..."

Cesar lowered his head and thought for a while: "Do you want me to go to Aleppo?"

Heraclius smiled approvingly: "Yes, Sultan Nur ad-Din is dead, and he has three sons, one of whom is an adult while the other two are not. But I have no doubt that they will immediately claim that they are Nur ad-Din's heirs—no," he shook his head with both regret and sighing: "More than that, I heard that Saladin of Egypt, as well as the Viceroy of Damascus, the Sultan of Mosul, that is, his nephew, a puppet, are all fighting for the authority of this 'Light of Faith'... What do you think will happen afterward?"

"Civil war."

"The Saracen civil war has always been a good opportunity for us, but how we should act, the judgment of these people is very important—who is the most cowardly, who is the most impulsive, who is the most ambitious, who is the most mercenary? Child, these situations are impossible to know without seeing them with your own eyes. But compared to the Castle of the Holy Cross, there will only be more conspiracies in the Saracen court—not to mention, they only have masters and slaves... even as an envoy, it is difficult to ensure that one can retreat unscathed."

"You mean..."

"This good deed might just be your whim, out of pity for an old man, but it unexpectedly bore fruitful results. In any case, Nur ad-Din's 'heirs' cannot harm someone who once performed the 'cleansing ritual' for Nur ad-Din on their behalf. They might even come to thank you personally—as long as you are in Syria, at that time, you can quietly observe them from the side... I believe you can see more things than others."

"I am very willing, teacher. But..." He and Heraclius said in unison: "Baldwin!"

(End of Chapter) ===== CHAPTER 133 =====