Chapter 15: Longinus's Unexpected Wealth

Although the boy brought personally by the monk Thomas of Gerard left a deep impression on Longinus, this depth was not enough to affect his life. He was still worried about his future, while enduring the clerics' calling him here and there, while constantly wandering in the streets and inns looking for opportunities to get ahead. It wasn't that he ignored Cesar, but because Cesar was too beautiful and too intelligent, he was just a child. He might get some money from Cesar, but he couldn't pin his hopes on such a little guy who could almost be his son.

But news about Cesar still inevitably poured into his ears. After all, Cesar's appearance was too eye-catching, and some pilgrims even thought they had seen an angel. He was also so diligent—people saw him on the first day when the sky was dim and the morning star hadn't risen, and didn't feel strange. He came again on the second day, the third day, and so on. By the fifth or sixth day, the news that a beautiful and pious youth had made a vow to clean the Church of the Holy Sepulchre with his own strength spread like wildfire. There were not only pilgrims in front of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, but also people who wanted to see this child.

Unfortunately, by that time, Cesar had already finished his work on the stairs and the plaza and had moved into the hall where the Holy Cross once stood. So Longinus received more commissions from within the church, which was to take the nobles who came on pilgrimage to watch Cesar's work. Among these people, noblewomen were the majority. Longinus also learned from them that the boy was not from the Gerard family, but an attendant with a strange background. When he heard that the person he served was Prince Baldwin, the son of the King of Al-Lazarus, Longinus's heart throbbed slightly and then quickly fell silent.

As long as one was in Al-Lazarus, no one would not know that their Prince was a leper.

Cesar was not the son of a Count or Duke. Before he was brought back to the castle by the King, he was just a slave.

At noon this day, Longinus was again looking for opportunities in an inn opened by a monastery. People of all kinds gathered here. Nobles and knights always occupied the best seats, their servants and squires surrounded them. Wandering people like Longinus who had lost their surnames could only shrink into the dark corners. However, Longinus never cared about these false names. As the seventh son in a large family, his status was no better than a bastard. In addition, when he was born, his eldest brother's son was almost old enough to be a squire. The things and attention he could get were even less. He had long been accustomed to being treated coldly.

The pickled herring on the plate still emitted a faint fishy smell as always. This was because they were not far from the sea. The ale in the leather cup was turbid and mixed with the smell of asphalt used for sealing. Longinus didn't enjoy the food with emotion, but rather maintained his life with reason. He listened to the chatter and high talk carelessly, not holding much hope for it—he had tried, and either he was mocked for nothing or he met a liar—until he heard the name "Cesar" and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

He picked up the leather cup and walked over.

"I heard it," he said to a person dressed as a servant. "You are talking about the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, right? What happened? Tell me about it."

The servant and the few people around the table exchanged a look that was not easy to detect. "We are talking about the bet. Don't you know?" He said with a smile. "Someone is betting on the vow that child made. Good man, the bet is not small. After all, there are many noblewomen who are willing to bet on that beautiful angel."

"I don't know," Longinus said. "What do they want to do?"

"Someone swore, I say, it might be those knights of the noblewomen, saying that the kid was just making a vow casually, or just bluffing. Such difficult work, it is possible for a pious knight or a devout monk to complete it, but a child? He will only be fresh for a few days, and then he will leave the work to sleep or play."

A person beside the servant clicked their tongue in response: "I also think it's quite unlikely. It is said that dozens of cleric masters are doing this work every day. I have also had the fortune of following my lord to pay homage to the Holy Sepulchre and the holy relics; just walking there, good heavens, takes a full day."

He said this, and everyone around revealed a hint of envy.

"So it is indeed impossible for him to complete it." Another person said. "It seems those poor noblewomen are going to lose a sum of money. How much did they bet?"

The servant swallowed his saliva. "You wouldn't think of it—one hundred and fifty gold coins, maybe more."

The surroundings instantly fell into a dead silence, and even Longinus felt something stuck in his throat. The gold coins the servant mentioned were the Roman gold coins commonly used in Al-Lazarus. Some scholars have calculated that in Arabia, or in Frank, the average income per person (excluding serfs) was only one gold coin, a set of fine chainmail was ten gold coins, a strong packhorse was five gold coins, and the rent for a small house was two gold coins a year—the gold coins here might not all be literal. After all, people at this time regarded gold coins more as fixed property, but the noblewomen's bets were more likely to be jewelry, holy relics, or silk, but their value was constant.

"Are they betting that he can... complete the vow he made?" Someone asked after a long time.

"Women are always very impulsive and gullible." The servant said.

So everyone couldn't help but fall into a deeper silence. Longinus also couldn't help but calculate what these one hundred and fifty gold coins could buy. He bitterly discovered that he only needed one-tenth, and he could dress himself up and look for more opportunities with an appearance that matched his status—like now, in stinking cowhide, tattered boots and hat, and a long sword that was carefully maintained but still inevitably scarred in battle, let alone nobles, even merchants wouldn't want to hire someone like him.

"But what does this have to do with us?" A guy who might be a groom said, and then turned and walked away.

When only the servant and Longinus were left at the small table, the servant also wanted to leave, but was stopped by Longinus. "What do you want me to do?"

"What? Master Knight, we wouldn't dare to order someone like you." The servant smiled and waved his hand.

"Who doesn't know that I am Longinus of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre?" Longinus said. "Speak, why go around in circles like this?"

"I'll say it again, but Master Knight, don't you want to join in?"

"What?"

"Are you betting?" The servant said.

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When Longinus returned to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, there was already a contract in his leather armor. This was inevitable. Unless he sold himself as a slave, all his assets combined wouldn't be enough for one gold coin. This contract said that he borrowed three gold coins from an Isaac merchant with his honor and status as a free man to participate in this bet. If he won, besides being able to return the three gold coins and two gold coins of interest to the merchant, he could also get ten gold coins or equivalent items.

The servant also guaranteed that his master didn't care about money, and it wouldn't matter if all the winnings were given to him, but he just wanted to teach that arrogant youth a lesson. And for that child, not completing the vow was not a problem, just being mocked or hit a few times, but for Longinus, he could not only get rid of his current embarrassing situation, but also have a chance to cling to a noble.

It didn't seem difficult to make a choice. Was he blaspheming God? No, trials and tribulations must accompany practice; was he going to kill an innocent person? No, he didn't even need to hurt the child, just take him away and hide him for a while; would he bring the anger and hostility of superiors because of this behavior? No, even if Baldwin was still a healthy heir, an attendant who made a vow but couldn't fulfill it, disappointing them, wasn't worth them punishing a knight.

Longinus didn't need to look for it. He walked through the three holy halls every day, and that child was pious and trustworthy enough, doing things meticulously. He could guess that at this time, those exquisite deerskin boots were stepping on which stone brick.

——————

Cesar had finished the cleaning work of the small hall of the Holy Cross and wiped the cedar gate. The monk guarding here cast a gentle look. They had seen all kinds of pilgrims, from the poorest to the richest. You couldn't say that the poor were not pious, nor could you say that the rich were not firm, but Cesar was too young, completely without self-thought and will, and he had made such a vow, which really made people worry that he couldn't fulfill his oath.

But he had indeed done what he promised, which couldn't help but make them feel good about him.

Cesar crossed the cedar gate and sighed lightly. Although he had Baldwin's indulgence, it was still easy to feel tired to complete such work alone. The problem was that he had to do this, because besides Heraclius's request, he had to make up for a very critical deficiency.

He was not David, nor Abigail, nor Baldwin. In Al-Lazarus, he was a complete outsider. He knew nothing about this place—the vassals of Amalric I, the children of ministers and knights, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was the place they were most familiar with besides the castle, but to Cesar, this was a strange and huge building.

If it were other places, Cesar could slowly get familiar with them in the future, but the imminent "selection ceremony" probably wouldn't give him too much room. He had to get familiar with this place as soon as possible. Of course, you could also say, what about Baldwin?

Baldwin was the master, and Cesar was the attendant. Only the attendant served the master, but there was no master who looked after the attendant.

As always, Cesar quickly circled around, carefully observing the walls, niches, square pillars, and curtains, and finally the high altar and the holy stone in front of the altar that seemed to be soaked in blood. Red in stone, even large areas of red, was not a rare thing—fossilized red algae, iron, and minerals could all form red traces of different shapes and sizes, although the red on the holy stone did look like a trace left by an adult man.

"This is the second most holy." A voice suddenly sounded behind him.

"Second most holy?"

"Hmm, the Holy Sepulchre is the most holy," a monk said. "But you have already worshipped it."

"Who are you? I haven't seen you."

"Is it strange that you haven't seen me? There are hundreds of monks here," the monk said kindly. "But I'll say a name and you'll know. Brother Thomas asked me to come, child. He asked me to take you to the holy relic room. He has something to say to you."

"Did he say what it was?"

"No, but he doesn't look like he's in a hurry," the monk said. "Maybe he hopes you can help him wipe and clean some holy vessels. Those are very holy items," he proudly straightened his chest. "Although it is vain, I have to say, if you don't look at those glorious and honorable holy vessels, you won't be able to grasp God's power and authority."

Longinus couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see the boy who was always humbly one step behind was nodding frequently, as if he was very approving. Before long, he was carrying a small bucket and holding a mop, and went to the holy relic room with the monk. Longinus followed quietly. Perhaps to grab the prey's attention, the monk didn't notice them following behind at all, counting the treasures in the holy relic room one by one—the ivory-armed Jesus statue, the ebony cross inlaid with pearls, the golden double-eared cup... and so on, and so forth.

Then they turned a corner and entered the corridor connecting to the Holy Sepulchre hall. Longinus saw the boy, who had always been humbly one step behind, silently swing the wooden pole that had suddenly turned from a tool into a weapon, and hit the monk's neck with all his strength—just one hit, the crisp and neat sound made Longinus feel a sharp pain in his neck.

The monk, who had no defense, didn't even hum, and fell to the ground like a leather bag full of wine.

The boy raised his head and saw Longinus.

"I thought you would need my help." Longinus said. "It seems I thought too much. You maintain enough vigilance, which is good."

"I heard it," Cesar said. "About those bets."

"One hundred and fifty gold coins?"

"Two hundred and fifty now." Cesar said. "This money is enough to make some people willing to go to hell."

"But this is a monk," Longinus said. "You are so pious, yet you don't believe in God's servant?" The other party hadn't shown his fangs yet.

"If I am wrong," Cesar said, "then it must be God using my hand to test him."

If it weren't for this place and this moment, Longinus would have laughed out loud, but he suppressed it. "Then don't you ask me why I am here?" This moment was usually when he collected money. There should have been one or two pilgrims who were short of money beside him.

"There is one thing I have never understood," Cesar said. "How do adults get pleasure from intimidating children?"

Longinus's lips curled. "Saying this, don't you feel guilty? Sir? You just 'for no reason' knocked down a strong monk." He glanced at that idiot. "Well, someone did try to bribe and instigate me to stop you."

"Your decision?"

Longinus drew his long sword.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 16 =====