kingdom of nations

Chapter 15: Longinus's Windfall

Although Longinus was deeply impressed by the boy brought by Father Thomas of Gerard himself, this profound impression did not affect his life. He was still worried about his future. While enduring the orders of the priests, he kept wandering the streets and inns looking for opportunities to make a fortune. It was not that he ignored Cesar, but because no matter how handsome and smart Cesar was, he was just a child. He might get some money from Cesar, but he could not pin his hopes on such a little guy who could almost be his son.

But the stories about Cesar inevitably came to his ears. After all, Cesar's appearance was so eye-catching that some pilgrims even thought they saw an angel. He was also so diligent - on the first day, people saw him when it was dark and Venus had not yet risen, and they did not find it strange. He came again on the second day, and the same on the third day. On the fifth and sixth days, the news that a beautiful, pious and respectable young man had made a vow to clean the Church of the Holy Sepulchre by himself spread like wildfire. Not only did people come to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre on pilgrimage, but they also came to see this child.

Unfortunately, by then Cesar had finished his work on the stairs and in the square, and moved into the basilica where the Holy Cross once stood. So Longinus took on more commissions from the church, which was to bring the nobles who came to pilgrimage to watch Cesar's work. Most of these people were ladies, and it was from them that Longinus learned that the boy was not from the Gerard family, but a servant with a strange life experience. When he heard that the person he served was Baldwin, the son of King Alasar, Longinus' heart throbbed slightly, and then quickly calmed down.

As long as you are in Alaska Road, no one will be unaware that their prince is a leper.

Cesar was not the son of a count or a duke; he was just a slave before being taken back to the castle by the king.

At noon that day, Longinus was looking for an opportunity in an inn opened by a monastery. All kinds of people gathered here. Nobles and knights always occupied the best seats, surrounded by their servants and retainers. Wanderers like Longinus who had lost their surnames could only stay in dark corners. However, Longinus never cared about these false names. As the seventh son in a large family, his status was no better than that of an illegitimate child. In addition, when he was born, his eldest brother's son was almost old enough to be a retainer. The things and attention he could get were even less. He had long been accustomed to being treated indifferently.

The pickled herrings on the plate still had a faint fishy smell as usual, which was because they were not far from the sea. The beer in the leather cup was turbid, mixed with the smell of asphalt used for sealing. Longinus was not so much enjoying the food with emotion as using reason to maintain his life. He listened casually to the chatter and lofty talks, and did not have much hope for it - he tried it before, but was either ridiculed in vain or met a liar - until he heard the name "Cesar" and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

He picked up the leather cup and walked over.

"I heard it," he said to a man dressed as a servant. "You are talking about the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, right? What happened? Tell me."

The servant exchanged a subtle glance with the others gathered around the table. "We were talking about the bet. Didn't you know?" he said with a smile, "Someone is betting on the child's wish. My goodness, the stakes are quite high. After all, many noble ladies are willing to bet on that beautiful angel."

"I don't know," Longinus said. "What do they want to do?"

"Someone swore, I think, probably those noble ladies' knights, that the boy was just making a random vow, or maybe just bluffing. Such a difficult task could be accomplished by a devout knight or a devout monk, but a child? He'd only be impressed for a few days before abandoning his work to sleep or play."

A man beside the servant clicked his tongue and said, "I don't think it's possible either. It's said that there are dozens of monks doing this job every day. I was also fortunate enough to accompany the Lord to venerate the Holy Sepulchre and the holy relics. Just walking there, wow, it takes a whole day."

When he said this, everyone around him showed some envy.

"Then it is impossible for him to accomplish it," said another. "It seems that those poor ladies will lose a lot of money. How much did they invest?"

The servant swallowed hard. "You won't believe it—one hundred and fifty gold coins, maybe even more."

The surroundings suddenly fell into deathly silence. Even Longinus felt something stuck in his throat. The gold coins the servants were talking about were the Roman gold coins commonly used in Alaska. Some scholars have calculated that in Arabia or in Frankish, the average income per person (excluding serfs) was only one gold coin, a set of fine chain mail cost ten gold coins, a strong packhorse cost five gold coins, and the rent of a small house was two gold coins a year. The gold coins here may not be in the literal sense. After all, people at that time regarded gold coins more as fixed property. The ladies' bets were more likely to be jewelry, sacred objects or silk, but their value was constant.

"Do they hope that he can fulfill his wish?" Someone asked after a long while.

"Women are always very impulsive and credulous," said the servant.

Everyone fell into deeper silence, and Longinus couldn't help but calculate what he could buy with the 150 gold coins. He found bitterly that with only one tenth of it, he could dress himself up and look brand new, seeking more opportunities with an appearance that matched his status. Like now, he was wearing smelly cowhide, tattered boots and hat, and a long sword that was well cared for but still scarred in battle. Not to mention the nobles, even the merchants were unwilling to hire someone like him.

"But what does this have to do with us?" said a guy who might be a groom, and then turned and walked away.

When only the servant and Longinus were left at the small table, the servant wanted to leave, but Longinus stopped him: "What do you want me to do?"

"What? Sir Knight, we dare not order people like you around." The servant waved his hand with a smile.

"Who doesn't know that I am Longinus of the Holy Sepulchre?" Longinus said, "Go ahead. Why go around in circles like this?"

"I still say the same thing, but my Lord Knight, don't you want to have a go?"

"what?"

"Will you bet?" asked the servant.

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When Longinus returned to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, a deed was hidden in his leather armor. This was inevitable; unless he sold himself into slavery, his entire fortune would not have amounted to more than a single gold coin. This deed stated that he had borrowed three gold coins from an Isaac merchant, using his honor and his status as a free man, to participate in the gambling game. If he won, he would receive ten gold coins or something of equivalent value, in addition to returning the merchant's three coins and two coins' interest.

The servant assured him that his master didn't care about money and that it didn't matter if he gave him all the winnings. He just wanted to teach the arrogant boy a lesson. For the boy, failing to fulfill his vow wasn't a big deal; he would just be laughed at or lightly spanked. But for Longinus, it would not only allow him to escape his current financial difficulties but also give him the chance to connect with a nobleman.

The choice seemed easy. Was he blaspheming God? No, asceticism inevitably came with its own trials and tribulations. Was he then going to kill an innocent person? No, he didn't even need to harm the child; simply take him away and hide him for a while. Would such an act incur the wrath and hatred of those above him? No, even if Baldwin were still a healthy heir, a squire who had made a vow and failed to fulfill it, disappointing them, was not worth punishing a knight.

Longinus did not need to look for it. He walked through the three sacred temples every day. The child was pious and trustworthy enough, and he did things meticulously. He could guess which stone brick the pair of exquisite deerskin boots were stepping on at this moment.

Cesar had finished cleaning the Basilica of the Holy Cross and wiped the cedar door. The monks guarding the place gave him a gentle look. They had seen all kinds of pilgrims, from the poorest to the richest. You can't say that poor people are not pious, nor can you say that rich people are not firm. But Cesar was too young, and he didn't have his own thoughts and will at all. He made such a wish, which really made people worry that he would not be able to fulfill his vows.

But he did what he promised, which made them feel good about him.

Cesar walked through the cedar door and sighed softly. Even with Baldwin's indulgence, it would be tiring to complete such a task alone. The problem was that he had to do it because in addition to Heraclius's requirements, he also had to make up for a very critical shortcoming.

He was not David, nor Abigail, nor Baldwin. In Alaska, he was a complete outsider and knew nothing about this place - a vassal of Amalric I, the child of ministers and knights. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre was the place they were most familiar with besides the castle, but to Cesar, it was just a strange huge building.

If it were any other place, Cesar could slowly get familiar with it in the future, but the imminent "selection ceremony" probably wouldn't give him much leeway. He had to get familiar with it as soon as possible. Of course, you could also say, what about Baldwin?
Baldwin is the master and Cesar is the servant. The servant serves the master, but there is no master to take care of the servant.

As always, Cesar quickly circled the area, carefully examining the walls, niches, columns, and curtains, and finally the great altar and the sacred stone in front of it, which seemed to be stained with blood. Red in stone, even large patches of red, was not uncommon—fossilized red algae, iron, and minerals could all form red in various shapes and sizes, although the red on the sacred stone did look like the mark left by an adult man.

"This is the second most sacred." A voice suddenly sounded behind him.

"Second Holy?"

"Well, the Holy Sepulchre is the holiest of all," said a monk, "but you have already venerated it."

"Who are you? I have never seen you."

"Isn't it strange that you haven't seen me? There are hundreds of monks here," the monk said amiably. "But I'll tell you my name. Brother Thomas sent me here, my child, to take you to the sacristy. He has something to tell you."

"Did he say what happened?"

"No, but he doesn't seem in a hurry," the monk said. "Perhaps he hopes you can help him wipe and clean some of the sacred vessels. They are very sacred objects." He puffed out his chest proudly. "Although it may be vain, I have to say that unless you see those glorious and glorious sacred vessels, you will not be able to understand the power and authority of God."

Longinus could not hear what they were saying, but he could see the child nodding frequently, as if in agreement. After a while, he carried the bucket and the mop and went to the sacristy with the monk. He followed quietly behind them. Perhaps in order to catch the attention of his prey, the monk did not notice that someone was following them and kept counting the treasures in the sacristy - such as the ivory-armed Jesus statue, the ebony cross inlaid with pearls, the gold cup with two handles... and so on and so forth.

Then they turned the corner and entered the corridor connecting to the Holy Sepulchre. Longinus saw the boy, who had always humbly lagged behind, silently swinging the wooden pole that had suddenly turned from a tool into a weapon, and hitting the monk's neck with all his strength - just once, the crisp and clear sound of "pop" made Longinus feel a sharp pain in his neck.

The defenseless monk fell to the ground like a leather bag full of wine without even a groan.

The boy looked up and saw Longinus.

"I thought you would need my help," Longinus said. "It seems I was overthinking it. You are keeping your guard up, which is good."

"I heard about those bets," Cesar said.

"One hundred and fifty gold coins?"

"Two hundred and fifty," Cesar said. "That's enough to make some people go to hell willingly."

"But this is a monk," said Longinus. "You are so pious, how could you not believe in God's servants?" But the other party had not yet bared his fangs.

"If I am wrong," said Cesar, "then God must have put me to the test."

If it were not for this place and this moment, Longinus would have burst out laughing, but he held himself back: "Then won't you ask me why I am here?" This moment was usually when he was making money, and there should be one or two pilgrims around him who were short of money.

"One thing I've never understood," Cesar said, "is how adults get pleasure from scaring children."

The corners of Longinus' lips curved. "Don't you feel guilty saying this, sir? You're the one who 'for no reason' defeated a strong monk." He glanced at the fool. "Well, someone did try to bribe and instigate me to stop you."

"What's your decision?"

Longinus drew his sword.

(End of this chapter)