Chapter 16: The Rising of the Morning Star (Part 1)

Just when Cesar thought he had made a mistake, Longinus asked, "Do you have five gold coins?"

"I do, but why?"

"Because with five gold coins, you can hire me." Longinus said, then turned with his sword, facing the enemies who had crawled out of the darkness at some point.

"You see," Cesar said peacefully, "I also wanted to trust God's servant." They were not in the hills of the Judean mountains, nor in the muddy Yafa port, but in the dwelling and resting place of the Lord, assassins could still run rampant.

This time Longinus really laughed out loud. He fearlessly faced those mercenaries who looked surprised. They had similar backgrounds to Longinus: frustrated, no way back, empty purses, and the only thing they could rely on was their own martial arts. They thought Longinus would compete with them for this reward, but didn't expect him to choose another path.

"Walk away, Longinus." The leader said. He had heard of Longinus's name and knew he was an extremely skilled warrior in fighting and combat, and didn't want to cause extra trouble. "We can count you in, as long as you walk away."

"Come on." Longinus said.

"Very noble, and very stupid." The man said while rushing up. He was very confident. There were five of them, three to deal with Longinus, and two to catch the child.

At least four of these five people were too careless, Longinus judged. They might have thought that this business didn't involve human life. Although they wouldn't understand why Longinus suddenly changed his mind, they thought he wouldn't be serious for a slave. This gave Longinus a chance. His long sword first pierced into a person's lower abdomen and then rotated. That unfortunate guy knelt forward while howling, which just blocked his companion's footsteps. Although his companion pushed him away eagerly and angrily, he couldn't stop the dagger Longinus threw.

He covered his throat and fell down.

"I said to be careful of him!" The leader shouted violently.

Wandering knights who couldn't be accepted by the King or the brotherhood often gradually lost their courage and strength in the embrace of strong wine and women. Longinus, however, was never among them. His sword was always sharpened on the bandits who tried to rob the clerics, and so was his will. The disadvantage in numbers not only wouldn't make him shrink, but would make him rise with a more intense and vigorous fighting spirit.

"Catch that child!" The leader shouted again. His martial arts might not be inferior to Longinus, but as soon as he saw the smile on that thin black face, he wanted to dodge subconsciously. He knew this thought was extremely fatal during a fight, but you couldn't expect much courage from someone willing to attack a child. But his eyes just glanced behind Longinus, and his heart sank.

The black-haired, blue-eyed boy didn't stand straight like the noble cubs they were used to, waiting for them to catch him. When Longinus turned around, he had already thrown the small bucket and wooden pole to the ground, and then nimbly climbed up a pillar. When a mercenary wanted to jump up and catch him, he jumped again and threw himself into a flag of the Christian Kingdom of Al-Lazarus—many such flags hung on the rib arches of the church dome, used to request God's protection for these countries and groups.

The dyed wool flag was rough and strong, and it was tied to an iron ring at the top, so it was no problem to carry a nine-year-old boy. The flag was hanging in mid-air, which was a very safe degree from height to distance. But the hunters didn't hesitate at all and took off the small crossbow hanging from their waists. This kind of crossbow arrow was extremely thin and had almost no effect on knights wearing armor, but for a child... as long as this child fell, they could catch this reward.

Their leader entangled Longinus, but at this time, Cesar had already pulled out a whistle and blew it with all his strength.

Among the gifts the attendants and servants gave Cesar, there were several whistles—bone, horn, and metal. He had always carried a copper eagle whistle the length of his palm. This kind of whistle used to summon hawks could make a very penetrating sound, otherwise, it couldn't recall the hunting hawk that might fly thousands of feet away.

The place they were in was the corridor connecting the second and third halls. To avoid pilgrims sneaking in to worship holy relics, this corridor could be seen as a long room. The windows were all in high places, one side had niches, and the other side was an unexposed arch. The sharp and long sound of the eagle whistle was like a sharp arrow piercing Christ's throat, vibrating and echoing rapidly in its chest.

To avoid receiving too much interference, the time Cesar chose was when there were the fewest people in the hall. The pampered nobles of course didn't have to worry about the time, and the diligent clerics were always waiting. Those who could get up after Morning Prayer could be considered diligent, and most of them came late in the afternoon, which was two or three o'clock in the afternoon—there should have been clerics on duty here, and they should have been either bribed or called away. But no matter how far away they were, or how focused they were on the scriptures, as long as their ears weren't broken, they would definitely hear this sound.

The mercenary leader cursed angrily, "Damn beast that deserves to go to hell!" Not caring at all that he was the one who sneaked into the Lord's dwelling on earth and did evil. Longinus guessed that he must have quite a few indulgences.

By the time the clerics arrived, the surviving mercenaries had already fled, leaving only one dead man and one dying man. A cleric hurriedly rushed to the side of the man whose lower abdomen was pierced, held his hand, and wiped oil on his forehead (directly from the lamp stand on the side), while shouting, "Repent!", and the dead man beside him was also treated the same way, so as not to let this holy place be stained by sinful souls.

Longinus silently reached out his hand, shielding Cesar behind him, and the two retreated into the shadows together. The clerics who arrived either intentionally or unintentionally ignored them, until Thomas angrily stepped in with a few monks. However, he only glanced at Cesar slightly and then focused on questioning and getting to the bottom of it—the clerics and monks were divided into three distinct groups, or more, but it could be seen that Thomas was in a state of being evenly matched with another high-level cleric.

Someone intentionally let the mercenaries who wanted to destroy this practice in. Of course, whether it was canon law or customary law, they should be punished. But to say who would suffer losses and who would gain benefits, this was something that outsiders like Cesar and Longinus could see at a glance—Amalric I and Prince Baldwin were Cesar's masters in the secular world, and the Gerard family was Cesar's guarantee before Christ. If Cesar could complete this difficult work, it would be a great thing not only for himself but also for his supporters.

About a quarter of an hour later, Thomas... at least achieved a phased victory. His opponent left angrily with a group of clerics and dead bodies. Only then did he have time to care about the latest investment of the Gerard family. Upon learning that Cesar was not afraid of today's incident, nor did he retreat because of rumors, he clapped his hands happily, praised God and the saints to his heart's content, and promised Cesar that he would not be disturbed by anything in the future, and he would entrust two strong brothers (the title between clerics) to serve Cesar, ensuring that the vow he made could be successfully achieved.

"You should also let the cleric look at the injury on your body." In the corridor that returned to silence, Cesar said, while untying the money bag and hanging it on Longinus's belt: "I'll go back after I finish this."

"Can I send you back?" Longinus asked tentatively.

Cesar smiled: "I'm not even a squire yet," he said. "The situation outside the castle is bad enough, and the situation inside the castle is even worse. I don't want to lie to you, sir. Baldwin and I haven't grown up yet. We don't have extra strength to protect others."

Longinus weighed the money bag, "This statement is not entirely correct," he curled his lips sarcastically: "The lives of people outside are not as precious as you think. The power of gold is much greater than you imagine."

"Then aren't you suffering heavy losses?"

"I'm not that kind of short-sighted idiot," Longinus said: "Although I'm not very smart, I know that anything involving the court, the church, and nobles won't be as simple as what you see." He looked down at Cesar and squeezed the gold in the money bag until it creaked: "Before, I would choose to stay away from right and wrong, but this time it probably won't work. As for why I stood on your side—because I don't believe them. If those people can ignore the gods and don't fear the law and morality, how can I believe they will keep their promises to a knight without a surname?"

"It's a pity that there are too few sensible people like you." Cesar said calmly. "Then, if you are willing to wait for some time, can you do something for me?"

"Please speak."

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This matter didn't cause much of a stir.

No matter Longinus or Cesar, they were calm and didn't have any indignation. The most precious thing about them was probably that they had self-knowledge. A wandering knight, an attendant of a leper... although Amalric I was constantly reiterating that his attitude toward Baldwin would not change, almost everyone was watching and waiting—that was the upcoming selection ceremony.

If Baldwin was chosen, all obstacles (at least most of them) could be solved. If not, his best future would be to become an unknown ascetic monk.

Amalric I handed this matter to Heraclius to investigate. Unfortunately, the final result could only fall on that ridiculous bet. Besides those two mercenaries, there was no one else to hold accountable. First, there was no evidence, and second, they could deny that they had committed a serious crime against the Prince's attendant—they could even say they just wanted to play a joke on Cesar. Finally, this man-made accident indeed didn't cause any irreparable consequences.

As a consolation, Cesar received many rewards, so generous that if he could leave Al-Lazarus, it would be enough for him to seek a small fief in some barren place. Of course, he couldn't.

The only thing worth comforting was that Cesar's pious practice was known to more people because of this evil act. When people talked about him, they no longer said "that lucky slave," but "that pious attendant." As Heraclius had hoped, when people saw a person dressed in gorgeous clothes and with a dignified appearance, they would say "What a noble person!", because Cesar had made such a vow and completed the heavy work, some people thought that Prince Baldwin, who had such an attendant, should not be a sinner punished by God.

On the last day Cesar worked, people who came to visit him could be seen everywhere on the stairs, roads, and streets around the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Among them, there were indeed noble people, but there were more poor people dressed in rags. For the sake of pilgrimage, they might have exhausted their life's savings and the last bit of their energy, but in the end, because they underestimated the greed of the clerics, they were rejected outside the Holy Gate.

Their only hope was to meet a compassionate master or lady, or like now, meet a respectable and virtuous person, treat him as a saint to worship, and use him to open the door to heaven.

The knight accompanying Cesar saw this situation and couldn't help but click his tongue: "Do you want me to call some servants to drive them away?"

"Will they tear me apart and eat me?"

Cesar was not joking, but the knight thought he was. He laughed for a while: "No," he said: "But they are filthy, and they will steal your lace and ribbons."

"If it's just this loss, I can still afford it." Cesar said.

When the morning star rose, Cesar had already seen those poor people who couldn't enter, but those who wandered outside the Holy Gate couldn't even be counted as the poorest. In the rags crowded in the shadows, only the eyes full of longing were still flickering. The hands stretched out were like withered branches in the Judean mountains. They almost didn't make a sound, perhaps because they had no strength, or perhaps because they were worried about being scolded. They didn't dare to approach boldly, until a brave mother held her baby who was still in swaddling clothes with both hands and crawled on her knees to Cesar's side.

"Master, sir," she begged in a dialect that was almost indistinguishable: "Touch him, touch him, let him get better..."

Faster than the sound was a stench that attacked them.

In this era when only the powerful suffering from serious illnesses could bathe every day, the poor, whether out of lack of money or out of the Church's requirements, had only bathed once in their lives—that was the time at the baptism ceremony. Not to mention, their wooden basins and clothes were also a precious heritage worth passing down to their descendants, and they absolutely couldn't be damaged for nothing. Therefore, being covered in stench was also an unavoidable thing.

Cesar looked down. Because of lack of nutrition or illness, even a baby of only a few months old looked as ugly as a monkey. He reached out and touched his forehead.

The mother continued to say a few words. Cesar couldn't understand much. "Wait," he said, signaling the mother to take a date from him: "Give it to your child."

He didn't know if the child was sick, but he knew that at this time, the discomfort of many poor people was because of lack of nutrition. The honey-soaked dates Baldwin gave him were an expensive food, containing a lot of sugar, and sugar meant energy. These commoners, who were as tenacious as wild wheat grass, might be able to live with just such a little comfort.

Cesar could feel the knight beside him was a little nervous. To them, these people were cattle and horses and beasts that were even worse than servants. When they were docile, they were cattle and horses, and when they were violent, they were beasts. They might also secretly blame in their hearts, why create more trouble? But Cesar knew very well that his touch was of no help to illness and hunger—the King still had to give the patient a gold coin during the touching ceremony, so that he could eat or seek medical treatment, let alone a small attendant.

A date only let him be sweet for a while, but it might have saved the child.

The mother squeezed the date tightly in her hand. "You will be blessed, saint," she said firmly: "God will reward you. If I can, if my child can, we will also repay you."

Cesar heard the knight behind him let out a sneer: "That's enough. Madam." He said, continuing to walk forward. The riot the knight was worried about didn't happen. People kept reaching out to Cesar, but as long as Cesar touched their fingertips, they could be satisfied. No one pulled, no one shouted, and no one tried to steal his purse, cross, or other small ornaments.

Longinus followed behind Cesar. He knew that some people mocked him for being a slave's slave, but he didn't care at all. He kept staring at the black-haired boy and the hands stretched out to those pilgrims who were so poor that even bandits wouldn't bother to look at them. Those hands swayed like grass touched by the wind. As long as one or two people were impulsive or had malicious intentions, he would fall into the crowd and sink into those filthy, rotting flesh and rags. He might be injured, or he might be disabled, or he might contract the plague.

But until they stepped into the hill where the Holy Cross once stood, and before the clerics pushed the Holy Gate and isolated the pilgrims outside the hall, those hands didn't withdraw.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 17 =====