Chapter 17: The Rising of the Morning Star (Part 2)

When the morning light fell on the sand of Golgotha, as if illuminating a piece of gold, Cesar walked out of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

I don't know when, but the small plaza in front of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the long and winding stairs, and the streets and alleys were gathered with countless people. Even if those behind couldn't see Cesar, they could be reminded by the laughter and shouting, and cheer along with them. Everyone was spreading the boy's name, praising his piety and virtue, and some even swore that just now, an angel wrapped in brilliant holy light had landed in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, completely ignoring that it was the time when the sun should rise.

Longinus remembered clearly the day Cesar came to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, as it was only forty-five days ago. At that time, only Thomas of Gerard brought him to the church, handed him over to a wandering knight without a surname, and then didn't care about him anymore—even if he gained profit because of the mercenaries attacking Cesar, he only sent two more monks, which was also because he saw that there might be some value in the boy...

Now he came, standing in the small plaza, smiling, holding prayer beads, with monks holding holy relics behind him, a golden box, and an attendant holding an incense boat. The smell of myrrh and agarwood permeated the entire plaza. The clerics of other sects, although standing elsewhere, also had to reveal smiles to snatch a bit of glory from this practice. And outside these black-robed and white-robed people were the nobles dressed in gorgeous clothes, with countless silk and velvet flowing in the sunlight, emitting a dazzling light.

As soon as their attendants saw Cesar walking out, they held the rings, necklaces, and belts taken off by their masters, as well as the cloaks and outer garments taken off, and swarmed up, layering him with clothes. Cesar was originally a youth with outstanding appearance, and after such dressing, he was even more shining, making people unable to look directly—people couldn't help but praise in unison, this was indeed God's gift, and only then could there be such beautiful scenery in the human world!

"Hold your small bucket and... mop tightly." Longinus tried his best not to let the two monks and the knights in the castle occupy his position, and whispered in Cesar's ear.

Cesar understood his meaning as soon as he heard it. No matter whether the situation today had the push of Heraclius and the Gerard family, a nine-year-old child completing work that one hundred adults needed forty-five days to complete in forty-five nights, this matter would inevitably be regarded as a holy miracle. Even if the fact was not as the clerics proclaimed that it was beyond human power, and not to mention whether the Roman Church recognized it or whether the Patriarch of Al-Lazarus could accept it, the clerics of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre would definitely record this holy miracle completely and speak with certainty.

Then his small bucket and mop would inevitably become two holy relics. Without exaggeration, in an age when the relics of saints could be divided into two, two into three, and three into infinity, they alone could raise offerings and build one or two churches. More likely, there would be pious believers willing to offer a large sum of property to get a small piece of them—as long as they believed that an angel helped Cesar clean the temple together.

After saying this, Longinus was pulled to the back. He took a deep breath, hoping that this child wouldn't be too carried away by success, but he also had to say that if it were him at this age, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to do it. So much praise, so much glory, so much gold!

Cesar only felt his head and neck ache. Although Longinus reminded him not to put down the mop and small bucket, he couldn't feel the touch of the wooden pole and leather belt—there were too many rings on his fingers.

At this time, the crowd dispersed, and the monk Thomas walked over with his head held high, holding a silver tray.

On the silver tray was a pile of fabric that was white to the point of shining. Cesar saw at a glance that it should be a precious wool cloak.

Perhaps some people don't quite understand the process from the offerings of laypeople to the holy relics of the Church. To give a simple example, a good believer would give most of his life's savings, mostly money, but sometimes physical objects, silk, wool, utensils, or wood, sometimes it might be a beautiful piece of marble, a horse, a mule, etc. If there were precious things among the first three, the clerics would put them on the altar and drape them on the statue of the Virgin, and they would naturally become holy relics. No matter who came to claim them, the Church would not return them, unless you were willing to pay several times or dozens of times the price to buy this holy relic.

"This is the wool cloth that once covered the Holy Sepulchre." Thomas said proudly, then he shook it open, draped it on Cesar, and said in a tone so intimate that it made people shudder: "Cesar, my little brother, I have come to celebrate for you. You have completed such a great cause—so pious, so beautiful, child, you are simply given to us by an angel," he reached out his hands enthusiastically: "You are tired, you are weary, hurry up and hand over your small bucket and mop to me. I will be your servant for this day, I will serve you, this is what you deserve."

Although Longinus had given a reminder... Cesar smiled and loosened his fingers. Thomas was obviously relieved.

Longinus's reminder was certainly well-intentioned, but there were too many inside stories he didn't know. The deal between Cesar and Amalric I destined that he couldn't leave Baldwin before Baldwin no longer needed him. So, what was the use of gold, reputation, and people's love and respect for him? Not to mention that these were like a city built on the beach. As long as his protector withdrew the foundation, everything would immediately turn into a shadow.

It was better for him to hand these two things to Thomas, which could be considered a slight return to Dean John who had once cared for him.

The monk Thomas took the small bucket and mop, and instantly glowed, as if the golden light of an angel was truly shining on him. He fulfilled his promise, followed behind Cesar, and wanted to accompany him to the Castle of the Holy Cross. The monks and attendants on the side also hurriedly raised their sticks to open a path for them. After all, there were more people crowding up now. If they didn't drive away these poor people who were emitting a stench, they wouldn't be able to move an inch.

"Wait." Cesar said, and then he turned to that piece of undulating heads, those pieces of matted hair, the dirty faces that couldn't see the features, the withered hands stretched out, the cracked lips that didn't know what they were murmuring, and the only eyes that were shining.

People saw this young saint take a deep breath, turn around again, and say something to the high-level cleric beside him. The cleric looked embarrassed, but finally nodded and agreed.

Cesar turned to those people: "Ladies and gentlemen," he said slowly, as clearly and loudly as possible, so that no one would fail to hear: "What do you need?"

He lowered his head and looked at them: "Is it forgiveness? Or do you hope to get a blessing? Are you hungry and need food? Or are you thirsty and need clean water? Have you fulfilled your wishes and just want to return home? Or do you expect to stay in this holy place forever?"

The crowd clamored. Yes, yes, yes, this was exactly what they were expecting. Parents brought their sick children, old people dragged their weak bodies, some people were penniless because they trusted villains or were too pious, and had nowhere to make a living. Tens of thousands of pilgrims stayed in the Shengcheng like beggars, and people died every day.

"The Church of the Holy Sepulchre will hold a grand Mass," Cesar said: "For all the believers in this city, during the Mass, pious people, you can enter the three halls to worship and touch the holy relics."

Someone screamed, just like throwing a stone into a calm lake. This news spread rapidly like ripples. Cesar waited for a while, confirmed that this news had spread far enough, and continued: "My only request to you is, please follow all the arrangements of the clerics, and please remember that others have the same urgent and painful feelings as you. Before God and His Son, do not do evil and despicable things."

"We have remembered, there will be countless eyes staring at them tightly." The few people kneeling at the very front said. They were all strong men, and their clothes were not as tattered as others. Cesar had been out of the castle for more than a month and knew that these people should all be famous figures in villages and towns, and might even have bloodlines that could be traced back to lords or officials. Their ancestors were people like Longinus, and because of this reason, they were more agile and worldly than the commoners and serfs who could only be trapped in mud nests.

Therefore, when people in the village needed a celebration, a sacrifice, or a large activity similar to this, they would be elected. In a short time, they were the leaders of these farmers or craftsmen.

Pilgrimage was undoubtedly the most important and difficult of these activities. These people bore extraordinary pressure and responsibility. The benefit was that once they could return home, this experience was enough to make them guests of honor for lords and bishops, and maintain a high status in the years to come, and their children could also enjoy the grace brought by the remaining shade.

"And those who are hungry, thirsty, want to return home, or want to stay here forever," Cesar said: "I leave them to you."

"We will do our best." The other party promised.

Cesar shook his head: "I believe in you, but besides Jesus Christ, who can take bread and fish out of a basket endlessly?" He took off a ring. It was gold, inlaid with an opal the size of a small finger, scattering countless colors and light and shadow in the sunlight: "This was given to me by pious good donors, just because I did a little small work for our Lord. Now I transfer it to you, so that you can do more work. I don't want a reward, just please pray for these generous good people for everyone who gets help."

Everyone present revealed a look of surprise.

Cesar didn't continue to talk, but there was no need to waste his breath. Naturally, someone kept passing his words and deeds down. How many people in the Shengcheng of Al-Lazarus needed water, bread, and hope?

The crowd squirmed, slowly making a path in front of him. The black-haired, blue-eyed boy walked a few steps, then took off a piece of jewelry from his body and handed it to the person willing to do things for him. By the time the jewelry was all taken off, he took off the gorgeous fabrics, one by one. By the time he walked to the drawbridge, that expensive gift that could move a Count had been distributed to the poor without leaving a single cent.

The people following him had gone from constant whispering and occasional debate to silence now. Powerful people, rich people, nobles and clerics, and their attendants rarely mixed with the poor. The women were already in tears, and the men were also nodding sincerely. Every pair of hands was either drawing a cross on their chest or holding prayer beads tightly.

The drawbridge had long been lowered, but except for Cesar, others could only stop. A thin white figure stood outside the black gate. Although not everyone had seen Prince Baldwin, as long as they saw the person wearing gloves and a veil tightly, they knew this was the heir of Al-Lazarus who had been punished by God.

Cesar turned around, took the silver tray containing the white wool cloak from the attendant, and walked quickly toward the Prince who was said to be punished by God under the gaze of thousands of eyes.

Baldwin watched his new black-haired attendant walk toward him with light steps, put down the tray, pick up the snow-white holy relic, and drape it on his body without hesitation.

For a moment, Baldwin didn't realize what had happened at all. The soft and smooth fabric poured down from the top of his head like sunlight, covering his whole body—because this holy relic had once covered a tall statue, the youth's body was not enough to support it all, so it hugged him like a burly giant.

He was stunned, and it took a while before he said.

"So warm, Cesar..."

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"This is wool, and it has been exposed to the sun for so long," Cesar said: "Of course it will be very warm."

Baldwin laughed out loud: "Cesar, my friend," he said sincerely: "After becoming a knight, don't be so unromantic again." He took off the cloak and put it in the chest decorated with ivory figurines. This chest was full of his most important things—the prayer beads sent by his sister Sibylla, the Bible, and the sword given to him by his father Amalric I.

Cesar of course knew what Baldwin was talking about, but from the bottom of his heart, the education he received destined that he wouldn't have faith. For a non-believer, the so-called holy relic was just a wool cloak, but its significance to Baldwin, who was in a difficult situation, was very different. Why should

He did not even want Baldwin to harbor too much gratitude or guilt toward him because of this cloak.

(End of chapter)