kingdom of nations

Chapter 130 Son of Josephine III, Earl of Edessa! (2)

They hadn't seen each other for six or seven years, but as soon as she saw César, she knew he was her brother who had been lost somewhere. He had grown up, but his appearance hadn't changed much, except that he was even more handsome, especially his emerald-like eyes. She remembered that when her brother was four or five years old, if she needed to take him out, her foster mother would wrap a headscarf around his head to cover his face, but he would still attract a lot of attention because of those eyes.

Even after she arrived in the Sultan's harem and saw so many beauties, she had never seen anyone with such stunning eyes. At first, she could hardly believe it. She knew that her brother had been sold into slavery just like her—those despicable slave traders had said that boys as handsome as him were most likely to be castrated and then enter the harem of the Caliph and Sultan.

The thought of encountering her brother in Sultan Nur ad-Din's harem terrified her, but she did not give up the idea of ​​continuing to search for him—even though he was already... He was still her brother, and she was determined to find him.

Even though he was destined never to have another marriage, wife, or children, she could still give birth to an heir for him. But even in her most beautiful dreams, she never imagined that her brother would sit next to the King of Arrassal, be affectionately called brother by him, and share his glory and power.

Her initial hesitation stemmed from the belief that she was dreaming. When she awoke, she was still in that small room where a dozen women lay, waiting to be summoned by the Sultan or never again—until she clung to him tightly, feeling the pain of the cold chainmail and cross pressing against her skin, and realized it was all real.

“I saw my brother here. I thought I would never find him again. I thought he was dead or had fallen into a worse situation, but no, he was standing there.”

She turned and pointed at César. “Look at him. He is not César. He is Josephine IV, who inherited the names of his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father. He is your cousin, Your Majesty, the future Count of Edessa. His father and your mother were born in the same palace.”

She spoke with such conviction and logic that it was hard to believe she was talking nonsense, leaving everyone present speechless and incredulous.

The first to believe it were young knights like David, who had long said that a man like Cesare could not possibly be the son of a farmer or craftsman, much less a mixed-race Turk.

However, some ministers frowned and looked at Cesar with suspicion—Raymond, Bohemond, and some others who shared their views showed contempt. They believed that this could only be a lie, or even a spy sent by the Saracens to sow discord and stir up trouble among them.

But their reactions were never the most important thing—Baldwin IV stood there, taking a few heartbeats to understand what the Saracen slave girl was saying, before he jumped up, really jumped up, his feet at least three feet off the ground.

He shouted with immense excitement, then jumped directly onto Cesar, hugged his neck tightly, and planted two fierce kisses on his cheeks before bursting into laughter.

“God! God!” he cried. “I knew it all along! I knew it all along! Cesar, I liked you so much the moment I saw you, and you were so close to me the moment you saw me, even though I was a leper who could be expelled at any moment! We were so happy together, never before, never since. You were better than all my companions, because you were my brother, my own brother, our blood could flow together!”

“Your Majesty!” Raymond shouted, but Baldwin could hear nothing now.

Finally, Queen Mother Maria rose and gently placed her hand on Baldwin, urging him to return to his seat. She then sent Cesar back as well, while she took the hand of the dark-haired slave girl—no, if she was right, she should be the daughter of an earl, a noblewoman.

Queen Mother had always been fond of César, but her thoughts strangely aligned with those of Raymond and others. She also worried that this was a deliberate conspiracy by the Saracens, or even a trap.

The treatment of a female slave and a noblewoman in the king's court is completely different. Now that the County of Edessa has been destroyed, she can only be kept in the Castle of Sainte-Croix. Given César's gentle attitude towards women and Baldwin IV's trust in her, she is very likely to become a lady-in-waiting to the princess. Many parts of the castle will be open to her, and she will have unimpeded access to communicate with the outside world without any hindrance or surveillance.

“Then, what is the evidence, child?” she asked gently yet sternly. “Evidence cannot be used to determine the ownership of such an important title and territory based solely on your word.” Even if Edessa was already Saracen property, the Earl of Edessa could still seek support from Christian nations—money, men, and supplies—in the name of reclaiming the territory.

"Of course I have some, but they're not with me." This is to be expected. Every female slave sold into the Sultan's harem undergoes a thorough body search and inspection. After entering the palace, they have to do all sorts of hard work, bathe under the supervision of the head maid, and sleep in a room with more than a dozen people. It would be a pipe dream to say that they could hide anything.

Heraclius raised his hand to signal her to be quiet for the moment, then turned to the Saracen envoy who was first stunned and then at a loss for words, "Do you have her birth certificate?"

The envoy nodded. Contrary to what later generations imagined, the girls sold into the Sultan's court, though all abducted, almost all had verifiable origins. They were daughters of artisans, farmers, merchants, or even nobles, and their prices varied. Where did they come from? Did their parents have surnames? These questions also needed to be recorded in detail.

Furthermore, girls from different social classes received different educations, which affected their social standing. Therefore, the slave market wasn't a scene where a slave trader grabbed a girl, stripped her naked, and displayed her to the crowd—that was merely a derivative work by Renaissance painters based on their imagination and people's interests.

On the contrary, like all buying and selling processes, the transaction was extremely serious and formal. The "goods" had production dates, ingredient ratios, and some rather detailed precautions. The two parties in the transaction would often write a long, densely packed description and agreement in the sales contract (the higher the price, the more detailed the content). As for those female slaves of unknown origin and without any skills, unless they were truly unparalleled in appearance and stunningly beautiful, they would only be able to be chosen by the Sultan's chief eunuch. Otherwise, they could only become the lowest-ranking maids or be sold into other noble families.

The messenger glanced at Cesare and also thought that fate was truly wondrous.

But given that the knight had recently tidied and cleaned their Sultan, he didn't mind repaying the favor in a small way. He took out from the chest the documents belonging to the dark-haired slave girl, composed of several parchment sheets, detailing which merchant had bought her from another, and how that merchant had sold her to the Sultan's court—

She remembered everything clearly: how old was she when she was sold? Who were her parents? What was her physical condition? Were her teeth missing? Did she have any obvious scars or moles on her skin? Did she have any siblings?

Raymond snatched it first, and after flipping through it for a while, he frowned. It clearly stated the identities of their parents—if what she said was true, then her father was just an ordinary knight, and her mother was just an Armenian woman; it did not say that she was a noblewoman.

“They are our adoptive parents,” Natia said quietly. “The birth certificates are fake, to avoid Nurdin’s pursuit and search.”

"This matter is becoming increasingly bizarre. You say your father is Josephine III, but with all due respect, he seems to have been taken captive by Zengi at the age of five, along with his mother and the Archbishop of Edessa." Bohemond finally spoke. On this matter, he and Raymond were on the same side—to balance the old and new forces in the court, Amalric I had granted Cesar a fiefdom, Bethlehem, before his death; he was not a landless man to be ridiculed.

Cesar's previous great victory with the king on the coast of Galilee had solidified his unquestionable position as a key minister. If he were allowed to continue developing his power base—he and Baldwin IV had a mutually supportive and complementary relationship, not to mention their definite blood ties, and the Countess of Jaffa would not hesitate to support them with Berion of Ibelin—the balance would be broken, and in a way that was unfavorable to them.

“If you are willing to give me some time,” Nathia said, “the cause and effect will become clear.” This is why she insisted on bringing her complaint to the King of Arazarus in such a public setting.

"But negotiations..."

Baldwin IV interrupted Raymond: "The Earl of Edessa is still alive." Still in Nurdin's castle, if what the girl said is true, then there is no doubt that they must try to redeem the Earl of Edessa... even if it's just for Cesare.

The daughter of the Count of Edessa had calmed down; her initial elation was slowly fading. She knew that every word she was about to utter would be of great importance: "My father, Josephine III, Count of Edessa, was born unfortunate."

This opening remark caused most of the people in the hall to show expressions of displeasure or embarrassment.

The fall of Edessa had many causes, but the neglect and betrayal of its allies must have been one of them—it had always been the weakest link among the four Crusader states, and could even be called an outpost of the four Christian kingdoms, with its territory surrounded on three sides by the terrible Saracens.

According to patriarchal law, customary law, and doctrine, when the County of Edessa was attacked, Antioch, Tripoli, and Arazarus were obligated to send troops to its aid. This was a mortal covenant and also God's law. However, the problem was that Joseph II was a hot-tempered ruler, and after his accession, he had a very strained relationship with Raymond, the ruler of the Principality of Antioch, which was closest to Edessa.

This discord manifests in various ways. They declare themselves each other's protectors, demanding loyalty from the other, and then sabotage each other when facing external threats. While one side is attacking an emir, the other makes peace with that emir, and vice versa.

Such actions, driven solely by personal gain, inevitably lead to disastrous consequences.

In the late autumn of 1144, Joseph II left Edessa as usual and headed to Tupese (a city west of Edessa). A messenger hurriedly found him and told him that Sultan Zengi's army had surrounded Edessa. Joseph II was naturally terrified upon hearing this news. He asked Antioch for help, but Raymond refused.

Raymond made it clear that he had no obligation to help a vassal who refused to acknowledge him, and Josephine II then appealed to Tripoli and Alassane for help. Unfortunately, the Count of Tripoli was embroiled in a war of succession with his illegitimate son. As for Alassane, Fulker I and Queen Melissant did agree, but it took them a long time just to muster their troops, and before they could even set out, news of the Count of Edessa's defeat arrived.

Joseph II was in Tupese during the war and was fortunate enough not to be taken prisoner by Zengi. But everyone in Edessa was either killed or enslaved by the Sultan. This included his wife and son, as well as the Archbishop of Edessa.

That five-year-old boy was Josephine III. Josephine II died in a Seljuk prison in 59 AD, and all he could inherit was an empty crown.

(End of this chapter)