The Unlucky Count Étienne (Part One)

"It's snowing."

Amalric I said coldly—just as the saying went, angels were always alone, while demons always came in droves; bad news was forever hot on the heels of bad news.

At the same hour three days earlier, the King of Jerusalem had already retired. What had happened before had left him exhausted and heavy-hearted, with no interest whatsoever in chess, reading, or music. Just as he was about to fall asleep, a servant came to report that Prince Baldwin was waiting outside the main tower.

Had it been anyone else, they might truly have been turned away at the door. But Baldwin—if there was anyone in the castle who understood better than Baldwin the immense responsibilities and crushing pressure borne by his king, his father, it was perhaps only Amalric I himself. And he was such a gentle child; unless something grave had happened, he would never disturb the lord of the Holy Land at this hour.

Amalric I rose at once and had candles brought. Baldwin soon appeared before the king with Cesar and Damara, bringing very bad news—Amalric I immediately summoned a servant and ordered him to fetch Duke Bohemond of Antioch, Count Raymond of Tripoli, and their sons.

While he waited, Amalric I happened to glance at the image of a saint hanging on the wall—Saint George, the patron saint of himself, Bohemond, and Raymond. The valiant knight wore armor and rode a pure white horse, holding aloft a gleaming silver sword as he fought the red dragon that symbolized Satan to the death. Behind rolling clouds, angels cast down golden light upon the saint... This was God's gift, granting him inexhaustible wisdom and strength...

He did not know whether this was God's trial or the devil's prank. Antioch, Tripoli, Jerusalem—they were kings, dukes, and counts revered by all; they were Christ's knights, protectors of pilgrims and the Holy Land. Yet why were they all so unfortunate when it came to heirs?

His son Baldwin was almost without flaw, yet he had contracted leprosy not long ago. Raymond's son David had an upright nature—one might even call him stubborn. As a knight, that might not be a failing, but as the future lord of a county, it would be the very weakness his enemies would be happiest to exploit. And Bohemond's son Abigail... Amalric I could not even be bothered to speak of him.

And matters seemed able to grow even worse. He, Raymond, and Bohemond each had only this one heir...

Soon, Raymond and David arrived, along with Bohemond and Abigail. David looked utterly bewildered and somewhat sleepy; clearly, he knew nothing about this affair. Raymond did not know whether to blame or be grateful for his dullness. Bohemond's expression, and Abigail's split lip, explained everything.

Bohemond was about to step forward and plead guilty, but Amalric I merely waved a hand. Now was not the time for rebukes and punishment. Cesar brought over a clothes chest. Such chests were usually kept beside a bed, their flat tops used as footrests or to hold things. Now, it was used to spread out a map.

"What did you tell that guide?" Amalric I asked.

Abigail had still shrunk back somewhat when he saw Baldwin. He had never dared approach the prince, fearing that Baldwin's leprosy might pass to him with a single breath or a lift of the hand. His father Bohemond had no such patience. He immediately slapped him, then seized him by the hair and dragged him before the chest.

Under ordinary circumstances, someone might have tried to mediate. But the trouble Abigail had caused this time was truly too great.

Because of this muddled marriage arrangement, Princess Sibylla's reputation might suffer somewhat. But as Amalric I had originally planned to choose her a husband from among the most devout and valiant knights, such a blemish was of no consequence. As for Amalric I and Louis VII, their rashness might also invite mockery, but it was hardly serious, and might even make them seem more approachable. Besides, if Amalric I had not had only Baldwin as his son, Princess Sibylla's marriage would not have counted as such an important matter at all.

But Abigail had bribed Count Étienne's guide, intending to lure Louis VII's subject, the Holy Land's envoy, a Christian, into heathen territory, where he might be wounded, die, or be imprisoned... That was the scandal that could truly be called earth-shattering!

This was not something one Christian ought to do to another Christian; it was not even something a Christian ought to do to a heathen. Even the devil would not gnaw on his own kind. Not to mention that Count Étienne was the guest of the King of Jerusalem, the Duke of Antioch, and the Count of Tripoli. He had been invited into the castle and received bread and salt in the hall. When he departed, everyone had come to see him off.

If Count Étienne had truly been captured by a heathen lord, they might still have been able to ransom him back. But if he had been injured, lost his way, or died in battle...

Amalric I closed his eyes. What this shook was far more than Jerusalem alone—it shook the very foundations of the Crusaders! If a shepherd found the blood of a lamb on a dog's jaws, would he not grow suspicious? When that time came, not only Louis VII but even the Church would come demanding answers. Perhaps he really would have to surrender Jerusalem to quell the people's doubts.

By the time Abigail had been questioned by his father and hauled up to the main tower, he was already frightened out of his wits and utterly distraught. Once Amalric I fixed him with those steel-blue eyes, he poured out everything in one breath.

Damara had long since been escorted back to her room by Amalric I's servant. Cesar leaned against Baldwin's side. When Abigail said that this matter had indeed been his doing alone and had not the slightest connection to Princess Sibylla, Baldwin let out a soft breath and relaxed his taut shoulders. No matter from what position—as a younger brother or as a future king—he did not wish for Sibylla to be involved.

"...So I told him to take Count Étienne into Mleh's territory..."

Mleh was an unfamiliar name to Cesar, but not to Amalric I and the other two lords. Amalric I immediately ordered the servants to take David and Abigail away. Bohemond insisted that Abigail be thrown into prison, but Amalric I refused. It would be best if this could be resolved without too many people learning of it. If Abigail were locked in prison, what crime would they give when someone asked?

Naturally, Baldwin and Cesar could not remain in the room either. Before they withdrew, Bohemond placed one hand on the map, but suddenly turned his head with a strange smile on his face. "Ah, right," he said, dropping his gaze onto Cesar. "I see this devout and clever good child." In a light tone, he rapidly asked, "Was it him? What did he hear? What did he see? Or did an angel descend into his dreams and tell him this secret that should have been known to no one—so he hurried here in such a rush... Was it him?"

Baldwin stepped forward and shielded Cesar with his body.

"Enough," Raymond interrupted Bohemond's barbed mockery in a deep voice. "Even if no one saw and no one heard, the mouths of those servants would be pried open by women and wine. You might as well say this was God's will, allowing us to mend the fold after the sheep had strayed, rather than forcing us to face a disastrous, near-irredeemable situation after the matter exploded completely."

Amalric I nodded to Baldwin. Baldwin immediately took Cesar by the hand and ran out. He regretted it a little. He should not have let Cesar stay there any longer; it would have been best to send him away with Damara.

Cesar, however, did not mind. Some might say that needlessly drawing a duke's hostility was like playing with fire. But ever since he had seen what had happened to Witt and those servants, the pilgrims before the Holy Sepulchre, and the dwarf at the banquet... he should have understood that in this place, in this era, those in high positions had no need to follow any doctrine, law, or morality. When they wanted to dispose of someone beneath them, they needed no reason at all.

And Abigail's hatred for him had existed for a long time. Unless he left the castle, ceased being Baldwin's servant and friend, and never again came near Princess Sibylla... But if that were so, simply because he, a lowly servant, had once stood beside the princess and spoken with her, Abigail would have a thousand reasons to kill him.

"Who is Mleh?"

"He is a prince of Armenia." Cilician Armenia was an independent principality founded by Armenian refugees fleeing the Seljuk invasion. "This Prince Mleh once lived in Jerusalem for several years and even became a member of the Knights Templar. But unfortunately, not long afterward, he succumbed to the devil's temptation, betrayed the order, and defected to Toghrul II, Sultan of the Seljuks. He received a post and a small piece of territory from Toghrul II.

"That territory happened to lie along the pilgrims' only route. So a former Christian, a knight whose cloak bore a cross, fell into becoming a thief and took up the business of robbery and plunder."

Baldwin entered his room. Though it was already deep into the night, he had no desire for sleep. Like Amalric I, Raymond, and Bohemond, he took a map from a locked cabinet, spread it over the bed, and studied it face-to-face with Cesar.

The First Crusade had been in 1096, and the Second Crusade in 1147. Those two vast expeditions had opened four clear roads for pilgrims. "When Count Étienne came, he followed the route Louis VII took during the Second Crusade. He departed from Paris to Lyon, from Lyon to Metz, crossed the Holy Roman Empire, Hungary, and Bulgaria, and arrived at Constantinople. From Constantinople, he rode along the coast or sailed across the Mediterranean Sea—here, he was already very close to Seljuk territory." Baldwin pointed at a specially marked red line.

"If he sailed, he would pass Rhodes and Cyprus, though he would also have to beware Saracen pirates. Still, in terms of safety, it was always better than crossing the Seljuk Sultan's territory. You attended lessons with me before," Baldwin said. "You should know—"

The Seljuk Empire was a great empire established by Turkic peoples in Central and Western Asia. It followed Islam and had once flourished brilliantly. But after Malik-Shah, its last great ruler, died in 1092, it fractured into more than a dozen smaller dynasties. Toghrul II was the Sultan of one of the larger dynasties... Though judging from Mleh's conduct alone, one could tell that he was nothing more than an incompetent fool.

"My father put Count Étienne aboard a ship at Jaffa." At this, Baldwin sighed. Because of what had happened earlier, quite a few young knights had challenged Count Étienne. Count Étienne clearly had no intention of bleeding for a princess he neither knew nor was likely to meet again. He could be said to have "fled" Jerusalem with great speed, unwilling to linger even one more day. If he had boarded a ship at Acre, perhaps they could still have caught him.

On average, a person could walk six farsakhs to ten farsakhs in a day, or ride eight farsakhs to twelve farsakhs. But a single-masted ship might travel as much as thirty farsakhs to fifty farsakhs a day. If Count Étienne had gone directly to Smyrna or Salonica, that would have been one thing. Those two cities lay deep within Byzantium, some distance from the Seljuks. But since there was a bribed guide with him, the man might tamper with matters, persuade the count to disembark early, and then find a way to lead him to Mleh or some other Seljuk.

"Abigail gave him one hundred gold coins as a deposit," Baldwin said hoarsely. "If he succeeded, he could return and collect another four hundred gold coins from Abigail."

That's equal to 3.33... of me, Cesar thought.

"What will His Majesty do?"

"There is no other way. We can only search. If we find Count Étienne and catch that guide before he realizes anything, then so be it. If he has already sensed that something is wrong, we may have to enter negotiations. But in my view, Count Étienne is not a greedy man. If that is the case, it will not be too difficult to handle. The worst outcome... you understand. Someone will have to step forward and bear the responsibility."

Cesar fell silent. After being here for so many days, he had roughly come to understand the relationship between Jerusalem, Antioch, and Tripoli. They could be seen as one large family. The rulers of the three nations treated one another like brothers, but Antioch and Tripoli were both vassals of Jerusalem. Amalric I played the role of an elder brother: he accepted Bohemond and Raymond's fealty, while also having to bear the troubles and guilt they brought him.

Baldwin and Cesar thought all they could do was wait. But the sun and moon turned three times, and Count Étienne and his entourage appeared at none of the ports. Whether on the broad roads commonly traveled by pilgrims or the narrow paths known only to bandits, from Ascalon and Jaffa to Caesarea, Acre, Tyre, Sidon, Beirut, Tripoli, and Antioch, they could not find even the faintest trace...

As the father of the one who had started it all, Bohemond had spent several days and nights running about outside. Raymond too looked haggard and distracted. Amalric I buried himself in heavy state affairs while constantly watching for messages from every quarter—until now, he had still been unable to write to Louis VII and tell him that his envoy might already have become a Seljuk prisoner.

Whenever knights rushed out through the castle gates in succession, Baldwin stood behind the window watching them. Cesar knew that Baldwin desperately wanted to be one of them, for his father Amalric I and for his sister Sibylla.

"Can I go?" he suddenly asked. "I'll go." In your place.