kingdom of nations

Chapter 364 Sweet Dreams (Part 2)

At the farewell banquet that evening, they were to send Philip II back to the Franks and to celebrate Baldwin and Cesare's triumphant return in advance. Richard wanted to go with them to Arrassa, but he really couldn't bear to leave Hama and Apol, who were right in front of him.

“If only I had two,” he said boastfully, “then there would be a Richard on Arrassa Road, and another Richard in Hama or Apollo, and our honors would be doubled, and our merits would be multiplied.”

He spoke casually, but one could glimpse a hint of ambition in his words, and Philip II's expression was not good.

If there really are two Richards, then the only ones to worry about are not just the Turks and Saracens here, but also Philip II…

Fortunately, Richard will stay here for at least a year or even longer, during which time he can still do some things.

Philip II drank his secret thoughts along with the wine in his glass, and looked at the room with a smile.

At that moment, the cooks brought in a young bull that had been carefully roasted. The bull's horns and tail had been intentionally preserved, making it look more like the body of a devil. This reminded Philip II of the phrase "charred corpse," and he felt a wave of nausea, but managed to maintain a smile.

What's even more bizarre is that he saw Richard jump onto the table first, brandishing a dagger, ready to share the meat with them—he knew it was just another one of that bastard's wild ideas, thankfully he'd be leaving soon.

Before leaving, Philip II left fifty knights and three hundred soldiers as a gift to the King of Arrassa—a considerable sum for him.

This is when the benefits of Cesare's previous tireless requests for the monarchs to abide by military laws become apparent.

In the past, these knights almost always followed their lords and led their squires and armed servants to fight independently. They would usually come and go in a flurry of activity—it was not easy to get them to get along with others.

The knights here are almost all second or youngest sons who are not valued in various places. Some of them are also hired soldiers who have no land and are not in a hurry to return home. Instead, they are willing to work for a generous lord and fight for him in order to earn more money.

The advantage was that they didn't have a lord to whom they needed to pledge allegiance, and the disadvantage was that they became more chaotic—but that was in the past.

Cesar could simply assign a knight as their leader and reorganize them into a new squad.

The laws previously implemented in the Allied Forces need not be reiterated. Knights and soldiers know where to collect their supplies, who to ask for repairs if their tents are torn, who to ask for reforging if their swords are broken, and where to collect their daily food.

Everything was so orderly that even Philip II couldn't help but feel envious.

"I also want to have an army like that."

“It will cost a lot of money,” Baldwin kindly reminded him. Philip II pouted, but he still warmly embraced Baldwin, not even avoiding the intimidating silver mask.

He kissed the silver mask twice with a clicking sound. “We will surely meet again someday,” he said, “so let’s not have a long farewell here.”

This is, of course, a blessing.

After all, based on people's understanding of leprosy patients, Baldwin was gradually heading towards his tomb, while Philip II was truly like the rising sun, a monarch with a bright future.

After Philip II left, Richard and Frederick I also offered some assistance. Roughly speaking, their original army, along with the Knights Templar and the Knights of the Order of the Templars, and the forces under Baldwin and Cesar, had reached eight hundred knights and five thousand soldiers, which was a force to be reckoned with.

However, it is difficult for such a large army to move without being discovered. Moreover, they need merchants to continue transporting water, food and other supplies, so it is impossible to hide their marching tracks.

"Is it possible for us to return to Arrasa by boat via Tripoli or Latakia (the port city of Antioch)?"

Baldwin asked, "That is indeed a method. They might not have had so many ships before. But ever since Portia, daughter of the Venetian Dandolo family, became the mistress of Cyprus, the Venetian fleet has frequently sailed the Mediterranean, and their merchants have no interest in serving the Cypriot lords; in fact, they would much rather."

The problem is that Saladin's navy is also patrolling near Jaffa, watching with predatory eyes.

Saladin did not remain idle during this long period. In addition to his Mamluks, he also managed to subdue the Saracen pirates in the Mediterranean region, integrating them into a well-trained army.

When attacking Darum and Gashalafa, he did not expect it to be so easy—he had already sent his fleet to prepare for a two-pronged attack on the important port city by land and sea, and the fall of Gashalafa was so fast and easy that even Saladin did not expect it; his fleet was almost completely intact.

The Crusaders' naval power has always been very weak, or rather, they simply lacked experience and resources in naval warfare. Their so-called warships could at most transport Crusader knights from one place to another.

The Venetian fleet might be useful.

But this is on the premise that Portia's grandfather, Dandolo, became the Doge of Venice, and that Venice had become his personal fiefdom.

Otherwise, the Venetians probably wouldn't have committed themselves fully to this war.

After all, everyone could see that even if they defeated the Saracens at sea and forced Saladin to retreat to Cairo, Egypt, they could not have caused any fatal damage to this behemoth. Saladin would not cede land or cities, much less give up the port. What good would that do for the Venetians?

"Then we will follow the original route—from Homs to Damascus, from Damascus to the Valley of Hull, and then across the Valley of Hull, across the Jordan River from that bridge, all the way south from Nalazar back to the road to Arazar."

Cesar lowered his head and carefully examined the map in his hand, trying to find a route that was both fast and safe.

Speed ​​is essential.

Saladin's army had already reached the gates of Arazarus a few weeks ago, but facing this ancient and magnificent city, it was impossible for it to fall as quickly as it had fallen to Gasharapa.

Saladin had also prepared for a long siege; he had even built military camps and fortresses and blocked the route from Arrassa to seek help.

Fortunately, long before Baldwin and Cesar's army set off, the city of Arrasar had already stockpiled a large amount of food, water and supplies in preparation for a possible siege.

"...Now these measures are working," Count Bellian wrote in his letter. "The residents of the city may have expected this, and the pilgrims are not so panicked—perhaps because Patriarch Heraclius, despite his old age and poor health, held several Masses in succession and led the priests in a procession day and night, sprinkling holy water on everyone, absolving them of their sins, and ensuring that they could all ascend to heaven."

Furthermore, following César's instructions, he invited representatives of the residents and pilgrims to visit their grain reserves, letting them know that even with tens of thousands of people in the city, the stored grain could still last for about six months, and they did not need to worry about the city falling into famine, nor did they need to worry about water.

The city of Yalasar had a water reservoir, and an underground tunnel, well, and aqueduct system that brought water from the Gehun Spring into the city.

Everything in the city was in perfect order…

He continued, “I heard about what happened during the siege of Nicosia in Arazari, so I experimentally organized all the residents and pilgrims in the city. Although some people found it strange—it was already good enough that these people didn’t fall into riots or despair in normal times, how could they be organized to do something?”

He was only trying it out. Unexpectedly, when people heard that he was imitating the Cypriot system, they immediately complied. He summoned all these people, arranged for them to stay in fixed places, and provided them with food at fixed times. In return, they were required to carry defensive supplies such as weapons, stones, or kerosene for the garrison.

When necessary, they might be asked to join the garrison. Some were timid by nature and refused the last offer of employment, but that didn't matter. There were many more adult men, and even women, willing to join the ranks of those defending the city.

They believed that even if they died while defending the city, they would be able to enter the gates of heaven before everyone else and sit shoulder to shoulder with the saints.

Patriarch Heraclius made an even more peculiar suggestion: he promised those people that even if they died in battle, their names would be copied down by the priests and then engraved on the base at the saint's feet.

From now on, everyone who comes to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, or other churches to pay homage to the holy sites will kneel down and worship their names here.

This approach would certainly provoke opposition from some clergy, especially the Roman Catholic Church—wasn't this treating ordinary people as saints? But Heraclius's attitude was very firm: if these Saracens were to invade Arazari, these statues of saints would not be spared. What was the big deal about carving a few names now?
If they're dissatisfied, then they should guard the road to Arrasa themselves!

Saladin's first and second probing attacks were both repelled, and the people of the city, far from being discouraged or fearful, were instead eager to try their luck again. This was perhaps a once-in-a-century event, and who knew if it would ever happen again.

However, he then changed the subject, saying, "Saladin's will was also very firm. Every three days he would send a messenger to inquire and put forward his conditions."

If we are willing to give up Arazarus to Him, He will allow all Christians to leave the city with their possessions, without even asking for their ransom. Christians who wish to stay will also be able to keep their churches and classrooms.

In this respect, he was even more generous than Christians; he would not slaughter the innocent, and even soldiers could be forgiven.

To be honest, such conditions are indeed tempting. If it weren't for the fact that the Holy City now has their spear and shield..." Berion wrote at the end of the letter, "Perhaps you will blame me for being cowardly, but I must admit that when I climbed the city walls and looked down at the Saracens outside the city, the dense, tide-like enemies were indeed like a noose around my neck, and with each passing day that noose tightened a little more."

Saladin's army was almost comparable to their allied forces, with nearly five thousand Mamluks alone and ten thousand warriors. The armies of the other Emirs or Farahs were also guaranteed to have only one leader. His army was like a stone giant formed from countless grains of sand, and each attack was like a punch slamming into the walls of Arazari, causing the entire city to shake.

Although Berrian can still hold on, we still hope they can return soon.

He also mentioned Tripoli and Cyprus, both of which are doing their best to support them with food, cloth, weapons, and soldiers. Although it is only a drop in the bucket, it is still better than the Byzantines and Antioch, which have remained completely inactive.

So far, all they had received from Antioch was a troop of Turkic mercenaries sent by Princess Hibil. Even so, these mercenaries were kept on the outskirts by Berian—he would not and dared not allow them to remain in the inner city.

Jaffa and Montgiza were also besieged by the Saracens at the same time. Montgiza had fallen, but Jaffa was still in the hands of the Crusaders.

Saladin's navy did pose a threat to Jaffa this time, throwing stones and Greek fire into the city from the sea, causing some casualties, but the Countess of Jaffa was leading the city's army in a desperate stalemate with them.

“I also have a piece of intelligence that Lyra sent me,” Cesar said. Baldwin took it and saw a little bird with its tail curled up at the end of the note. “It’s your white falcon,” he said.

The white falcon he was referring to was the white-haired Assassin assassin, but she had converted and was now serving Cesar.

But only Baldwin knew that neither faith nor anything else could bind that free woman. To say she had converted was merely to appease the priests. Not to mention, if the priests knew that she was also blessed, they would be horrified and expel her immediately.

Leila brought intelligence about Saladin's army.

Leila was a woman, and women, whether Christian or Saracen, were rarely valued, especially those of low social status. Leila was always adept at exploiting this weakness, as seen in her stabbing of the delusional officer in Damascus.

In the military camp, Lyra had even more identities at her disposal: a washerwoman, a knight's wife, a prostitute, or a merchant's daughter. Her identities were ever-changing, and she was able to glean more and more information from people.

She was very clever, and Cesar had taught her how to construct a three-dimensional image from scattered, chaotic, and seemingly unrelated pieces of information.

"Is this number credible?" If all soldiers and laborers are included, Saladin may have brought an army of forty to fifty thousand men.

"It's basically credible."

They had never faced so many enemies before, and the army they brought back was no match for them. Baldwin burned the note on a candle and then stared solemnly into the darkness outside the tent.

"We will fight side by side once again."

"Yes."

"This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last, right?"

Cesar looked back intently; Baldwin could take off his mask when he was with him.

Now, apart from a few pockmarks and discoloration, there is no trace of leprosy on his face. His reclusive lifestyle is precisely to conceal the fact that he is recovering—although he could attribute it all to the favor of St. George, whether it is a gift from God or the protection of mortals, his good health is certainly a thorn in the side for many.

Cesar silently calculated in his mind, how much longer? A year, two years, or even less? He wasn't sure, after all, battles were coming one after another, and he couldn't just ask Baldwin to hide in the castle and not go anywhere—the fierce fighting, irregular meals, and restless sleep and rest would all affect the development of the illness.

He sighed softly. God knows, as a doctor, he was certainly happy to see his patients gradually recovering and eventually regaining their health, but that meant they would face even more battles afterward.

Amalric I's target was Egypt, while their target was Syria. After conquering Damascus, Homs, and Hama, they moved on to Apol—which was closely linked to Edessa. Once he recaptured Edessa, he would inevitably reorganize the Crusader forces and advance eastward towards the Mosul region, as well as the Seljuk Turks, who were always at odds with the Christian kingdom and caught in the middle.

"Of course, we will always be together, on the battlefield and in the court. I will be your most trusted brother and subject, Baldwin. This friendship will last until we go to our graves."

“You shall be buried with me,” Baldwin said immediately.

“No, I want to be buried with my wife,” Cesar replied immediately—causing Baldwin to pause, glaring at his brother and friend with displeasure.
“We may be buried together in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, but I will certainly lie with Portia.”

"You, you should lie down with your wife."

In fact, given Baldwin's age, he should have been married long ago, and people would have been looking forward to him having a son. But now... his condition is apparently worsening, and people don't even dare to mention his marriage. Princess Joan, who has come from afar, is also believed to be taken back to England by Richard.

But if he could recover within a year or two, or even before the expedition ended—Cesar had examined Baldwin's body and determined that he was healthy and intact, and that the leprosy had been contained before it reached that location.

"You mean Joan? Do you like her?"

Baldwin laughed. Only Cesar would say that. When people talk about a noblewoman, her beauty is just icing on the cake. No one would really think that the Trojan War was for Helen.

In fact, this was originally a conflict that broke out over economics and territory.

The so-called Helen was just an excuse.

“Joanne is indeed a good match.” In any case, the King of Arrassa has no need for marriage alliances. Antioch, Edessa, and Tripoli are all his vassals, and the surrounding minor lords depend on him for survival.

He couldn't possibly marry a Sultan's daughter or form a marriage alliance with a Caliph's daughter.

As for Byzantium... he had no intention of marrying any of Manuel I's nieces or grandnieces...

It was a beautiful story for the nobles of the Holy Land to marry noble ladies from the Franks or England. Although Joan's performance was not entirely satisfactory, her nobility lay in her bloodline and the crown on her head. Baldwin had long seen the coldness and warmth of human relationships and would not take a little girl's willfulness to heart. In addition, their ages were also very suitable.

Without a doubt, once Baldwin got married, people would expect Joan to immediately give birth to an heir.

Although in the eyes of later generations, Joan was only nineteen years old and still a young girl, in the eyes of people at this time, she was already of a good age to be a mother. Baldwin quickly did the math in his mind—if he married Joan, and Joan immediately became pregnant and had a child—even if it was a son, he would still be nearly ten years younger than Lorenz of Cyprus.

Although the age difference between the man and woman was not a significant factor in such political marriages, he knew César's character and knew he certainly wanted his children to be happy, in whatever way was possible.

But he quickly cheered up again. Why did he have to keep staring at Lorenz?

After the expedition, he could certainly send Cesar back to Cyprus. No, no, no, let Cesar stay in Fort Sainte-Croix and bring Portia over; they really should have a son.

For a moment, he was unsure whether to have a son or a daughter first. A daughter would allow her to marry César's son, while a son would allow César's son to participate in the selection ceremony with him and become brothers without blood ties.

Oh no, they were originally related by blood, so they would be even closer, even closer, even closer brothers, or perhaps Cesar could have another daughter... Wait, Cesar also needs a son. For a moment, these thoughts tangled in his mind, eventually becoming a complete mess that he couldn't untangle. And his worries about Arrasal disappeared silently in this entanglement.

With a smile on his face and his hands clasped to his chest, he drifted off to sleep peacefully. This was perhaps the most peaceful and comfortable sleep he had ever had since being diagnosed with leprosy. In his dreams, they had children, who grew up to become husband and wife, brothers, and their descendants ran and screamed joyfully in the square of Castel Sainte-Croix.

His repeated campaigns with César laid an unimaginably vast foundation for God, with churches standing tall and bells ringing. As he looked back in the afterglow of the setting sun, he saw that César's temples were also streaked with white...

They were both old. He reached out his hand to Cesar, only to find him staring blankly at him, tears suddenly streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, Baldwin," he sobbed, "I'm sorry..."

Baldwin was about to ask a question when he suddenly lost his footing and woke up.

When I woke up, the candle was still burning, and outside the half-open tent door, it was still pitch black.

Cesar put down his book and turned to look at him: "What's wrong?"

Baldwin stared at him for a long time: "Nothing."

I had a good dream.

(End of this chapter)