Chapter 31: Count Etienne's Advice (Part II)

Baldwin and Cesar met, and how joyful they were goes without saying.

It can be said that in the few days Cesar was away, endless annoyance gnawed at Baldwin's heart like a venomous snake, intermittently.

He closed his eyes and saw his little companion lying in a damp mud puddle, his face flushed, sick, feverish, and about to die; in a blink of an eye, he saw him riding a horse, but being pierced through the chest by a sharp spear held by a fierce Turk. He fell from the horse and immediately disappeared into the chaotic hooves; in a trance, the prince saw again that when he was crossing the sea, the ship encountered a great storm and sank. He fell into the sea shouting "God!", and disappeared within a few breaths...

These things were entirely possible to happen to Cesar. He had no familiar people around him and had to go to the territory of the pagans, and had to experience so many hardships on the way—Baldwin was simply in pain day and night—until Cesar left his side, he realized that he had foolishly been tempted by the devil, letting his best friend die for that worthless vanity and competitiveness!

Seeing Cesar, finding him with all four limbs intact, clear-headed, and looking no different from when he left Holy Cross Castle, Baldwin felt that the heavy shackles had left him. He didn't even want to let go of Cesar, and the two walked back to the left tower hand in hand, but this time Baldwin took Cesar to an empty room. The furniture and decorations inside might only be slightly inferior to the prince's room, and a steaming bathtub was prepared.

"Whose room is this?"

"Yours." Baldwin said.

Although as a squire, Cesar should sleep in the same room as him, but during the time Cesar was away, he was always uneasy, unable to care about anything else, and could only walk back and forth in the left tower again and again.

Until he saw that there were several empty rooms in the tower, he remembered that when he was still in the right tower, although David, Abigail, and others were his squires, someone would sleep on the trundle bed under his bed every night, but they all had their own rooms in the tower.

He remembered that his father, Amalric I, had once promised that Cesar would have the same treatment as David and Abigail. Since that was the case, he should also have his own room.

Being able to have his own room was of course a good thing for Cesar. The prince's room was gorgeous and comfortable, but it didn't belong to him. When he occasionally wanted to find a private space, he could only slip out of the door after Baldwin fell asleep and sit on the small platform outside the door to think or read.

"You even prepared bathwater for me?"

"Just like treating every triumphant knight." Baldwin pushed him, watching him take off his clothes under the service of the servant and soak into the bathtub. He didn't find wounds on Cesar's back and chest, but Amalric I also let him read the letter sent by the Templar Jofrua.

The letter only had a rough narrative of the things on this journey, which of course did not lack the spring-and-autumn writing style unique to the Templars, but one could still see the thrill and danger of this journey from it, especially at the end when they actually bumped into Prince Mlai's team directly.

Baldwin didn't quite believe the cleric beside Count Etienne, thinking that he would find a way to let the bishops of Jerusalem come to see Cesar's condition when the time came.

"I'll go back first, Cesar." Baldwin said.

"Don't you want to hear about the things on this journey?" Cesar asked. In this era of monotonous and scarce entertainment, people were full of curiosity about anything that happened outside, which was why wandering theater troupes, pilgrims, and minstrels were very popular wherever they went.

Baldwin was no exception. He even promised that after the selection ceremony, he would take Cesar to the market, where artists playing, singing, and telling stories could often be found in taverns and streets.

"No," Baldwin said, "I'm also very tired and want to sleep. After you finish washing, you sleep too, don't disturb me."

Although he said so, Cesar could feel Baldwin's gentleness. He didn't want to know, nor was he cold to Cesar. He was just worried that after so many things, Cesar was exhausted. If he still had to let Cesar accompany him to talk, that was simply torture.

"Then see you tomorrow," Cesar said: "Tomorrow I will tell you the story of this journey—sleep peacefully, I have already returned."

Baldwin nodded and didn't speak. He was worried that if he spoke, he would shed tears.

——————

Cesar had never slept so soundly. This external assignment was also a severe test for him, but if there was really a God, he would also give a beautiful score for this answer sheet.

When he woke up and was about to go to Baldwin's room, he saw a squire. He recognized him; he was a person beside Amalric I. The squire told him to go to Count Etienne first. It was said that the Count wanted to personally thank the little benefactor who saved him from the fissure.

Count Etienne was now living in the room of Bohemond, Duke of Antioch. This room was of course also a good room. After lifting the tapestry, the bright sunshine illuminated the room as if it were plated with a layer of shiny gold. The Count sat on a throne in the Byzantine style wrapped in a sleeveless robe of gray squirrel fur. The gold collar gifted by Amalric I on his neck shone, and he also wore several rings he hadn't seen before on his fingers—the cleric Anonsia sat on a long box (this kind of box could be used as a seat, storage, and display) on the side.

Cesar bowed to the Count.

Although the Count's excuse was to personally thank his little benefactor, more people thought he was just curious about this squire. After all, in this era, if a high-ranking person was saved by a low-ranking person, he only needed to give a corresponding reward, and there was no need to waste his time and energy. It was even less necessary to condescend to express gratitude in person.

Count Etienne examined Cesar carefully again and had to admit that he had spent several years in the court of Louis II and had seen countless young squires. In terms of appearance alone, almost no one could compare with this child.

"I want to thank you." He said. Only after he left the fissure did he see how deep and narrow the "Devil's Mouth" was. Without the cleric describing the situation at that time, he also knew that after he fell, whether it was his entourage or the Templars, the most likely decision was to give up.

If it weren't for Cesar insisting that they could lower him down and search for the Count's whereabouts in that terrible "Devil's Mouth," these people would at most kneel at the edge of the fissure and pray for him. They would gain nothing and be punished, but he certainly wouldn't have his life, and before losing his life, he would have to experience a living hell in the world.

"I want to thank you," he repeated: "I thought for a long time, child, how should I thank you? I asked some people—you are the squire of Prince Baldwin, then, do you know he is a leper?"

"I know."

"Since when did you know?"

"Before I became his squire."

"I heard you received the favor of Amalric I."

"Yes."

"He saved you from the knife of the Isaac slave merchant. This is a favor, but it is not impossible to pay off." Count Etienne leaned back: "You should know what happened before. It can be said that Amalric I owes me a favor, and I can use this favor to redeem you."

Cesar raised his head in surprise. The Count smiled: "Look, I can go and tell Amalric I to let you go, and you don't have to worry about where you go. Do you remember the Templar Jofrua Fuller? He is not an ordinary knight. He was once a branch commander of the Templar Order and only returned to Jerusalem last year. It is said that he might become the Inspector of the Holy City.

He praised your performance along the way. He said that even the young knights in the Order might not be able to compare with you—those more noble than you are not as humble as you; those more humble than you are not as brave as you; those braver than you are not as calm as you; those calmer than you may not have your piety; and those more pious than you, their wisdom is difficult to compare with yours—that's right, he likes you.

If you were just a farmer's son, he would immediately take you to the Order. But you are the prince's squire, which makes him very difficult."

He had been implicitly peeking at Cesar's expression, thinking he would be overjoyed.

Cesar lowered his head and thought for a while, but after thinking about it, Cesar shook his head. Count Etienne's arrangement for his future was not wrong, because of Abigail's stupid things, Amalric I and even the entire Crusader army were equivalent to being held by Count Etienne.

After the Count did things like snatching the bride of other lords and fighting the King because of it, he could still get the love and trust of Louis VII, and even be willing to let him be the King of Jerusalem (whether the Count himself was willing or not), which showed how smooth and clever the Count was.

Like such a person, first seeing the guide suddenly expose a large sum of money that such a person could not have, and then seeing the knights of Jerusalem rush over for no reason, how could he not guess that someone had set a vicious trap for himself—this person was not an ordinary person, at least not an ordinary squire. An ordinary squire couldn't take out so many gold coins, nor would he move the entire Holy Cross Castle to clean up for him.

When he returned to Holy Cross Castle, he looked at it and found that Abigail, the only son of the Duke of Antioch, was missing, and his heart was even more clear.

And the Templar Order was truly one of the few organizations in the entire Jerusalem, or even the entire Christian Kingdom, that could be indifferent to Amalric I.

And in the Order, there was no contempt for origin, assets, and surnames. After all, Crusader knights were originally "armed clerics." Once they decided to serve God, everything they had in the secular world would be abandoned—a farmer's son and a knight's son were not much different in the Order.

"I think I should thank you for your arrangement for me," but after thinking about it, Cesar shook his head, "But I have already made an oath."

Count Etienne was a little stunned, and then showed a bit of understanding, "Are you doubting me? Or are you afraid of the King of Jerusalem?"

"How could it be? My Lord, Amalric I is the defender of the Holy Land, the guardian of the Holy Sepulchre. Every word he says is the law promulgated on behalf of God, even if he himself cannot help but obey it; and you, I also believe that a good person who came to the Holy Land from thousands of miles away to do hard labor for God, the King, and the people will not speak nonsense."

"Then why don't you want to?"

"Because I have made an oath," Cesar said with a smile: "I swore to Baldwin that I would never leave him, and Baldwin also swore to me that he would never abandon me."

Count Etienne was really stunned. He looked at the cleric in disbelief, straightened his back, and leaned over to capture every subtle change on Cesar's face, confirming that he was not lying: "Then... you followed the Templars, risking wind, snow, beasts, and Turks to find me all the way... and fought the wolf pack fearlessly, and finally went down to the 'Devil's Mouth' without hesitation... all for your master Prince Baldwin?"

Not wanting to take the opportunity to leave him? But sincerely doing things for him?

Count Etienne's brain was in a mess, as if four great feasts and eight small feasts of processions were knocking, shouting, praying, and singing hymns in his head. He returned to the chair and thought back and forth for a long time before asking suspiciously: "But he is a leper..."

"I didn't just know he was a leper now," Cesar said gently: "And I am just a commodity of an Isaac merchant. He respects me and loves me. Of course, I will also respect him and love him. I want to praise your generosity, but I will not leave Prince Baldwin."

"God, please pinch me," he turned to the cleric on the side: "Am I dreaming? Perhaps so. When I open my eyes, I will find that I am still in that 'Devil's Mouth', bleeding and waiting to die..."

The cleric reached out and pinched him as requested!

The Count screamed and bounced off the chair.

"Alright," he glared at the cleric: "I know, I know this is not a dream, what are you doing?" He patted the cleric's hand away: "Isn't one pinch enough?"

He couldn't help but pull the collar on his neck and throw it aside. He was about to suffocate.

"I really find it hard to imagine—" he stared at Cesar and whispered: "Are you really a saint?"

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 32 =====

(End of chapter)