Chapter 25: Unlucky Count Etienne (Part 3)

"It's snowing."

Geoffrey Foucher said. This white-haired Templar knight reached out and touched the branches, ground, and stones with experience, "But even so, we still have to go on the road. Otherwise, we won't be able to reach Azaz at night. In this weather, staying outside at night is fatal. Even if God blesses us and we are not killed by darkness and cold, the humidity will make our legs become wooden sticks."

He stood up with his knees, spat on the ground, and made a cross on his chest, "Let the devil and the pagans go to hell, let's go!"

Following his words, the few people who accepted the Grand Master's order also walked out of the "beehive house."

This simple conical adobe house, even if the diameter of the base was only three royal feet (French unit of measurement—one royal foot is about two meters), the height was about two royal feet. The main materials of the walls and ground were mud, sawdust, and dead branches and leaves. Except for the small door that knights had to bow to enter, there was only a small skylight opened at the highest place—it was called a skylight, but in fact, it was a small hole.

Cesar walked out of the house last. He tried not to look at the corpses piled up like firewood behind the house... These corpses belonged to the owners of this beehive house. Judging from their gender and age, they should be the father and two sons, as well as their wives—perhaps because there were three men in this family, they could build such an adobe house—this was their precious asset and also the source of disaster...

The first people Cesar and his party met were the youngest son and his mother. They were standing in front of a pine tree knocked down by lightning, using stone flakes to scrape the bark on it to eat. The bark here was not the outermost layer that was rough and hard, but the white bast layer. Using sharp stones or small knives to scrape a thin layer off, the fresh bast tasted crisp and tender, and also carried a bit of sweetness.

As for how Cesar knew, of course it was Baldwin. Since he had such a satisfying little partner and was willing to walk out of the room, he couldn't wait to share all his happiness with him.

And when seeing that pair of mother and son, Cesar showed a smile—the pleasure of sharing the bast with Baldwin was still lingering in his heart, but immediately he heard Geoffrey let out a loud roar: "Pagans who do not believe in Christ!" And at the same time, two soldiers in the team, and one of Geoffrey's attendants, also shouted: "Enemies of the son of the Virgin Mary!"

They rode their horses and rushed toward the two poor people, but didn't immediately drop axes and sticks on them. Was it mercy? No, they deliberately let them go. Later Geoffrey said that the mother and son were dressed neatly—although those things were hard to be understood as clothes, they at least were not naked, and they were wearing bark shoes on their feet, which indicated that they must have a nest.

And they had been running from Tripoli, exhausted, and had to spend the night in such a wilderness. It wouldn't work without a place to live.

This pair of mother and son might not have encountered such things before, or lost the ability to think like wild beasts being chased, and sure enough, they ran toward their "nest" as the Templar knights expected. A man ran out of the house. It was the woman's husband, the child's father. When he saw such a scene, he knew it was not good, and immediately knelt down, his arms spread, clenched in front of his chest, making a prayer posture.

Geoffrey chopped him down with an axe. A young man and his wife ran out of the house again. The young man held a stone knife tightly in his hand and let out a sad cry, but he was alone, so how could he pose a threat to these knights with rich combat experience?

The whole thing happened in a few breaths. By the time Cesar caught up with them, the original owners of this house had already fallen into a pool of blood. He was shocked to the point of being unable to hold himself, until Geoffrey's attendant rudely woke him up and asked him to clean up the corpses with him. In such cold weather, the blood soon congealed, and the corpses also became stiff in the blink of an eye. They moved them behind the house. After they left, the hungry beasts in the forest would follow the smell of blood and run over, eating them clean.

By the time Cesar entered the house, they had already lit the stove—it was a pit dug in the ground. The soldiers found an earthenware pot, which might be the most valuable thing in this family besides the house, placed it on the fire, held snow to melt, and boiled the grain, beans, and pickled meat they carried with them.

The wheat porridge was soon cooked. Because Templar knights were equivalent to monks in armor, they couldn't talk while eating, so someone had to be responsible for reciting the Bible. This matter soon fell to Cesar, who was the most literate and had the best voice among them, but was the least experienced. After they finished eating, it was Cesar's turn. He tried to forget what had just happened, but helplessly every mouthful of wheat porridge carried a rich bloody smell.

The soldiers exchanged meaningful glances, "Still a child," Geoffrey watched him finish eating before asking: "Are you pitying those pagans?"

Cesar was silent for a while: "No... my lord, I was just thinking about how you identified them."

Regardless of which god they believed in, the dress of the commoners here was about the same, a long robe, barefoot, or wearing bark shoes and wooden shoes. The belt was either a rope that was about to rot, or twisted leather scraps. In winter, they wrapped themselves as tightly as possible with everything they could wrap on their bodies.

Geoffrey laughed. He stroked his chin. Templar knights had to shave their beards regularly, and there would be brothers called "robe officials" to supervise them, but his beard grew exceptionally fast. He had only been away from Yafa for a few days, and a large piece of hard thorns had already poked out: "I would like to tell you that it was the saint I felt the presence of, Ilad, who used his robe sleeves to polish my eyes, calling me to see the scorpions hidden in the bees, the poisonous snakes in the bushes at a glance, but..."

He looked at Cesar.

People would have an illusion, feeling that all the military power of Yafa should belong to the King and his vassals. In fact, it was not the case. The root of every Crusader knight lay in "fighting for Christ," not for the King or the lord. They were "under the protection and supervision of the Holy See, consistently, forever."

And because the Knights Templar once stood firmly on the side of Innocent II in a papal election, they received more honors and privileges than other knight orders, such as being able to elect their own Grand Master, being able to build private chapels, not only without paying tithes but also being able to collect tithes, being able to grant others holy orders, and anyone who harassed them would be excommunicated... and so on.

As a King, of course, it was very difficult to tolerate such a force, or even several forces, in his territory that were not subject to restraint. Amalric I was friendly with the Hospitaller Knights, but his relationship with the Knights Templar was not very good—a few years ago, Amalric I had a dispute with the Knights Templar over a piece of land located in Transjordan. Transjordan was an important territory on the edge of Egypt. Amalric I was competing with Nur ad-Din for it, and of course hoped to bring this piece of land under Yafa, but was refused by the Knights Templar.

Amalric I had to settle for the second best, requiring the Templar knights to hold one of the positions at all costs, but he didn't expect that a few days later, this position was taken away by the Saracens. Amalric I was furious, ignored the persuasion, and firmly executed twelve Templar knights who should be responsible for this failure...

With such a thing, although the Knights Templar were still willing to support Amalric I, the relationship between them could not be called harmonious—so when Heraclius brought this child—everyone knew he was once a slave, just because he won the favor of the King's son and became the Prince's attendant... Geoffrey was not very willing, just barely accepted this new member.

But like many people, Geoffrey only spent a short time with this child before he liked him, so when Cesar asked this question, he didn't give him a slap or pull out a whip to hit him like he did to the attendants in the knight order. He first gave an answer known to people, and then, facing those green eyes, said gently.

"The real truth is that our reporter died. This is the first household we encountered. We don't know if there are any more behind, if there are, how long we have to walk, if the snow will be bigger, if we will encounter wolf packs, bears, or Seljuks.

We need to rest and recuperate, sleep well, eat well—and these few people... I can tell you that they didn't put a cross in the house, and didn't recite the name of Jesus Christ when they saw us—but these are all trivial matters. Their biggest sin is appearing here.

Don't say we can negotiate with them, can request to stay for a night. It's too small here, it can only accommodate us or them—if they were really Christians, then they would definitely abandon the house and walk outside for the sake of us, the helping hands extended by God. Then what awaits them is either being frozen to death or bitten by wild beasts. It's better to be buried under a holy blow, and instead, they can go to heaven faster... Of course, if they are not..." He didn't continue, and there was no need to continue.

What could Cesar say? Unless he stood up now and went outside to be frozen to death, he had to accept this bloody favor, but this—was wrong, he said in his heart.

Early the next morning, that is, when Geoffrey reached out to touch those branches, mud, and stones to perceive the temperature and humidity, lead-gray clouds fell with sparse snowflakes again. Geoffrey had traveled between the Holy Land and the European continent many times (this was also why he was sent here), and was very familiar with this annoying weather.

Clouds hanging low, strong winds whistling, and heavy snow rolling were indeed frightening, but it was this kind of weather, a light snow, a sunny day, a cloudy day, and another light snow, that was more fatal. The snow fell, and it would be exceptionally cold when it melted. If the next day was still freezing, then these melted snow water would soon freeze and become ice that was not hard but very slippery—their reporter was because he was too anxious and kicked the horse. The horse was in pain and raised its hooves to run, and as a result, stepped on broken ice and fell, which made him break his neck at once.

People who haven't stayed in this era will never know how important a reporter is.

In this world today, humans are far from being the opponent of nature. In villages and cities, between cities and cities, the main positions are still wilderness, deserts, cliffs, rivers, swamps, wild beasts, and birds. It is not uncommon for a person, or a team, to walk for several days or months without seeing a human trace. This is why, whether going to the market, working, or on a pilgrimage, people must be in groups and must have a reporter.

A reporter, to be precise, should be a guide. They are real craftsmen. Not only must they have a good memory, but they must also be bold, brave, and loyal enough (so that they won't bring enemies to the village or castle). They must know where to go, how to go, the speed and rhythm of walking, what tools are needed, what clothes to wear, where to look, where to rest and drink water.

Such skills and tricks, fathers only pass to their eldest sons, and eldest sons pass to their eldest sons. Even the second son cannot touch it at all... If it is unfortunately broken, it is truly a big event that can attract the attention of stewards or even lords.

When they left Tripoli, they had such a messenger, responsible for taking them to Azaz. As a result, they were so unlucky. The messenger broke his neck and threw them in a strange place. If it weren't for Geoffrey often walking this route, they wouldn't even know where Azaz was... let alone other villages and settlements.

——————

"What are you looking at? Are you looking at the snow?"

Baldwin turned around. Heraclius was standing behind him. The cleric with a clear face looked at the Prince and asked in a low voice: "Are you thinking about Cesar?"

"Yes..." Baldwin said: "I even regret it a bit, teacher. The snow hasn't stopped, and they have gone so far." If he had made his request at the beginning, Cesar might only need to search Yafa or Caesarea, at most he would go to Acre, but by the third day, the manpower of the knight order had spread throughout Yafa, toward Tripoli and Antioch. They could only put Cesar in the direction of Tarsus, and the team was only left with the knights of the Knights Templar—if possible, Baldwin of course hoped that Cesar could follow the ranks of the Holy Sepulcher Knights.

"You have to believe him," Heraclius said: "He is doing things for you."

At the same time, he couldn't help but sigh in his heart. It was no wonder that Amalric I would develop wariness toward such a young child. They originally guessed that he would be a count's son. Now it seems that even a Prince in the court might not have such vision, courage, and boldness as Cesar.

Simply put, Weite at that time was still a knight's son. As soon as he was sent to the Prince's side, he couldn't wait to give up on himself. Those small mouse-like eyes could only see a few silver coins, a few roast meats, a few barrels of beer, and a few beautiful women. He never thought that if he could get the favor of the Prince and the King, his future prospects would be so great!

What about Cesar? Let Heraclius say, no one could be in a worse situation than him. But it was such a child without even a surname who could walk to a place and make people in that place like him—if it were someone else, they would immediately be complacent and floating. But he was still steady and clear-headed.

He even knew very well where his biggest weakness was and immediately set about making up for it.

He returned from Golgotha, and even Heraclius was thinking, this is enough. Perhaps Prince Baldwin also felt this way. He happily held Cesar's arm, regarded him as another brother, and brought him to everyone—indeed, with this asceticism and good deeds, he already had the qualifications to be the Prince's attendant. But if Amalric I unfortunately died, and Prince Baldwin became the King of Yafa as the former promised?

King of Yafa, Guardian of the Holy Sepulcher, Leader of the Crusaders, and a Prince who is in danger, are simply two concepts. The difference between them is enough to make people forget the fear of leprosy.

By then, counts, princes, and princes would come one after another. Where would there be a position for an attendant!

So Cesar must go. He had no reliance, and his only capital was the relationship between him and Baldwin.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 26 =====

(End of chapter)