The Chosen (Part 2)

"Yo-hei!"

Longinus craned his head down and saw a face paler than a crescent moon. He remembered—it was Prince Baldwin. The prince probably had never seen his face before.

He immediately drew back. He had no idea what the tunnel was like, but if the prince suddenly put a crossbow bolt into him, he truly feared the devil who had led him down there would laugh hard enough to shake all of Hell.

"That's Longinus," Cesar said. "My servant. I told him to wait for us here."

As though answering his words, a rope with several knots tied into it was soon dropped down from above. Longinus climbed down it like a great ape. With Cesar's help, he hoisted Baldwin onto his back and climbed out again. A few breaths later, he climbed back down. Cesar did not refuse his kindness and rode out of the shaft on his back.

Baldwin was already wrapped in a blanket, drinking hot mulled wine. Cesar glanced at him. "You came thoroughly prepared."

"So long as you're willing to spend a few silver coins, or even copper coins... no one cares whether they get to sleep through the night." Longinus also brought out a large stack of gooey baked cheese. After the cheese had been baked, honey was poured over the melted layer. It was a simple sweet to make, only somewhat expensive. Like the hot mulled wine, it could replenish a great deal of energy in a short time.

"It was Cesar... who told you to wait here?" Baldwin had finally stopped shaking. He took huge bites of the baked cheese as he asked indistinctly.

Longinus glanced at Cesar. "He told me to keep an eye on the Temple, said that pack of insatiable bastards probably wouldn't let things go so easily."

"How is the Temple?"

Longinus looked at Cesar again. "Tell him," Cesar said.

"The King of Jerusalem was attacked."

Baldwin froze. He looked at him, then turned to Cesar, whose body had gone taut. "Don't worry about me," he said, so calmly that Longinus's scalp prickled. "I can think too, Cesar. When you felt blood through the crack in the door, I knew something major must have happened—something that kept them from coming to tend to us. It may have been only a short time, but that too was calculated by those people."

"I am the king's son. Other than the king, who else would come before me?" Crystal light shimmered in Baldwin's eyes, yet his voice was hard as iron nails driven home. Every word was like an iron hammer striking an enemy. "You were right. They are maggots more cruel than Jephthah, greedier than Judas of Kerioth, more vicious than Jezebel! Devils! Shit!"

"Please don't grieve too deeply," Longinus hurriedly added. "By the time I got there, knights were already running out shouting that the assassin had been put to the sword and the king was unharmed! Everything at the scene was in perfect order too. There was no crying."

He had kept his eyes fixed on the Temple. When flames suddenly rose from the buildings on the Temple's western side and a violent uproar broke out, he immediately became alert.

Perhaps he was not as clever as his young master, but he understood those monks and priests far more deeply. Once they made up their minds to do something, they would inevitably act cleanly and decisively, without the slightest hesitation, leaving not a scrap of retreat for anyone!

It seemed to happen in an instant. Torches came toward the stables. Longinus did not know whether his young master's plan would succeed—what if they had lost consciousness? What if they had failed to break through the water room wall? What if every tunnel exit had been blocked? Most terrifying of all, what if they had gotten stuck halfway through? He could not be sure.

The only thing he could be sure of was that if those knights caught him, he would certainly be regarded as an accomplice of the assassin.

So he hesitated no longer and immediately fled along the little path he had long since marked out.

He ran to the shaft where he had agreed to meet Cesar. He had already bought the little house closest to the shaft. Its master had taken several others to a neighbor's house, leaving only a girl behind to work for him. He had told her to keep the hot mulled wine and baked cheese ready.

Praise Jesus Christ! His wait had not been in vain.

"I wonder whether your father has opened the Temple gates..." Cesar immediately said, "Longinus, hurry to Temple Mount—Baldwin, give him a token..."

He paused. They had only a soaking-wet linen tunic on them, and the one fish-bladder potion they had had was already in their stomachs. But Baldwin immediately took the dagger Longinus handed him and cut off a lock of hair. "Give this to my father."

"Take this and tell the king—no, go find Monk Heraclius. Tell him we are here, then ask him whether the hunter is still guarding the rabbit hole. If not, ask him to make arrangements as quickly as possible." Cesar looked at the sky. Venus had not yet risen, and dawn had not yet come. They still had time.

Longinus nodded, then asked, "Would you like to go to my little house and rest for a while?"

"No," Baldwin said. "We'll stay here."

From the shaft to the Temple Church, so long as one did not take the tunnel carved by the devil, it took only the time needed to recite the Lord's Prayer five times.

Originally, Cesar had wanted Longinus to go directly to Amalric I. But on second thought, the king must be heavily guarded at this moment. Even if he saw Longinus, he would not be willing to dismiss everyone at his word. Better for Longinus to secretly find Heraclius, then have Heraclius persuade the king.

He could only hope Heraclius was not with the king.

Heraclius was indeed not with the king.

The scene had been chaotic for a time. When Amalric I shouted Saint George's name and rushed from the room covered in blood, the attendants on night duty beside him immediately began screaming. The news spread swiftly like ripples on water, and everyone called for their knights and retainers.

Some hid in their rooms. Some ran onto the stairways. Others crashed into the great hall. More hurried toward the king. Worst of all, it was the dead of night. In their haste, some knights had even forgotten to put on their surcoats, while others drew their swords and fought the unfamiliar strangers the moment they saw them...

Heraclius had only just stopped the king's bleeding when he saw this and felt his face go numb. He immediately gave orders in the king's name, summoning every noble, including the Count of Tripoli and the Duke of Antioch, along with the grand masters of the Knights Templar and the Knights Hospitaller, and the chief priest of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre. He gathered dozens of the most loyal, strong, and valiant knights, and had them carry banners and torches through every place, shouting, "The king is unharmed! The assassin has been put to the sword!"

Anyone they discovered who could prove their identity was ordered back to their room. Those who could not were thrown into prison. Those who dared resist were executed on the spot as the assassin's accomplices.

After finishing all this, Heraclius was about to report back to Amalric I when his heart suddenly clenched. Paying no heed to anything else, he raced for the Temple Church and nearly collided headlong with the ash-faced Grand Master of the Knights Templar. The grand master had discovered the six dead Templars outside the church. They had not even been able to make the slightest sound.

The grand master had shouted loudly, but there had been no response from within. Unable to decide whether to open the doors, he had returned to ask the king.

Heraclius felt the world go dark before his eyes. Fortunately, at that moment, an attendant brought Longinus to him.

Longinus hurriedly relayed Cesar's words to Heraclius. "The black rabbit and the white rabbit are both safe and sound. We just do not know whether the hunter is still guarding the old burrow."

"The hunter is greedy and arrogant. Why would he be willing to trouble himself?" Heraclius replied. "He has already gone home and is snoring away on his pillow—it is a good chance. Let us put the rabbits back in their burrow."

He swiftly returned to Amalric I and told him the good news. Amalric I immediately rose, intending to go with him. Before Heraclius could dissuade him, Raymond firmly objected. "Then either you take me with you."

His blood was boiling, yet he failed to notice the abrupt change in Amalric I's expression. "No," the king said coldly. "You stay here."

Raymond froze. He had always been Amalric I's most trusted right-hand man. Never had the king treated him with such disrespect and distrust, as though he were a traitor.

He stood there until Bohemond, Duke of Antioch, strolled over with his arms folded across his chest. "Don't take it too much to heart. After one disgusting thing after another, even a king cannot help acting on emotion once in a while."

Raymond did not particularly like Bohemond, but seeing him come to offer comfort, his expression eased a little. "I'm only worried..."

"Oh, don't worry, don't worry. Of everyone here, you are the one who has the least need to worry," Bohemond said with a smiling face. "If I were you, I would never go before Amalric I to make a nuisance of myself. Haven't you noticed something? He loathes you."

"What?"

Bohemond drew close to Raymond and said softly, "Isn't it obvious? If Amalric I died, and Prince Baldwin died too, who would inherit the throne of Jerusalem? Why, only you—the grandson of Baldwin II, Amalric I's cousin, the man closest to the throne!"

The moment Amalric I saw Baldwin, he did not even care that Baldwin wore no veil. He pulled him tightly into his arms and wept until he could make no sound. At the sight, an indescribable emotion surged through Heraclius's chest. He strode quickly to his student. Without caring to ask about the details of what had happened earlier, he began discussing the things they needed to prepare at once.

The Patriarch of Jerusalem had indeed returned to his residence. It was not far from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Standing before the window, he gazed at that holiest of places and savored the pleasure of having wantonly cursed the king before countless people.

A moment later, he returned to his desk and used a key to open a wooden casket. Inside were three manuscripts he had painstakingly written. The first was for if Prince Baldwin had not died, but had not been chosen. The second was for if Prince Baldwin had died—then it would not matter whether he had been chosen or not. The third was for if both Amalric I and Prince Baldwin had died.

Of course, in every version, he conscientiously and earnestly told the people that this was precisely the thunderous wrath God had sent down.

Yes, he admitted that Amalric I and the other Crusader knights were soldiers of Christ, but they had already received the bountiful rewards God had promised them. Yet they had not been satisfied. Instead, hearts of arrogance and greed had bred within them.

This city should have belonged to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Mortal men had no right to overstep their bounds, yet they had placed crowns upon their own heads...

Now they ought to be afraid, for the facts had proven that no matter how exalted those who dared offend God might be, they would go to Hell. Not only would they go to Hell, hooks would pierce their eyebrows and they would be roasted over the lake of fire until the end of the world, while maggots burrowed through their bodies and devoured their flesh...

He thought for a moment, then pulled out a piece of charcoal. Too lazy to summon a priest to scrape the parchment clean, he added several threatening lines in the blank spaces, so that the faithful would behave themselves even more obediently...

After revising the manuscripts and locking the casket again, the patriarch went back to bed.

And where he could not see, Amalric I carried Baldwin, Longinus carried Cesar, and together with Heraclius, they entered the great hall of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre without a sound.

It was rather amusing. Earlier, in order to strike Amalric I by surprise, the patriarch had made generous promises and bought over a group of priests. They had previously opposed Thomas of the Gerard family, only for Thomas to turn defeat into victory through Cesar's ascetic practice. Their days had not been easy lately.

They had worked for the patriarch in a desperate gamble, but they had likely never expected that after achieving his purpose, the patriarch would cast them aside and leave them to fend for themselves.

Now these priests had exchanged places with Thomas Gerard. When the time came, it would depend on whether Thomas was willing to send them into the desert for ascetic practice or into the army to atone for their sins.

In any case, at this moment, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was once more in Thomas's hands. Naturally, he agreed to Amalric I's request without reservation. "But once you bring them out of the Temple Church, how will you explain it to the world?"

"You may go and see for yourselves," Heraclius said. "The beeswax on the Temple Church's doors is perfectly intact."

"What shall we say when the time comes?"

"Say that servants of the devil or heathens wanted to sabotage the choosing ceremony, so they set a fire outside the church. Merciful God saw it and picked the two children up, placing them in the arms of His only Son, so that they would not be harmed." Heraclius spoke fluently. It was clear he had already thought up the explanation on the way.

Thomas was a little nervous. "The Temple Church is on fire?"

"It will be before morning prayer."

Thomas opened his mouth, but could not say a word.

"I will come to buy an indulgence for a thousand years," Amalric I said.

Thomas was instantly delighted. He clapped his hands and exclaimed, "This is God's will, to turn men back from the path of error."

Beaming, he personally opened the doors of the great hall and watched them settle the two children in place. "They..." He gestured with his eyes. "How are they?"

Heraclius froze. When someone was chosen, a burst of white light would erupt from their body during the trial. In shape, light like thunder was Grace, while light like a river was Bestowal. The longer it lasted and the brighter it shone, the greater the blessing received and the more powerful the saint they had perceived.

But when they had found Baldwin and Cesar, they had already been away from the Temple for some time.

There was no knowing whether they had left after being chosen, or whether... if it was the latter, then their choosing ceremony had failed.

"That no longer matters." Unexpectedly, this time it was Amalric I who spoke. Thomas looked at the king, only to be startled by his dark, sunken eyes.

"How many people know of this now?"

"You, me, Thomas, and..." Heraclius looked at Longinus. "This knight."

Longinus felt as though he were still inside that bone-chilling shaft. "In the Holy City, the only person I have ever sworn myself to is Cesar."

"He is not yet a knight."

"Precisely because he is not a knight, Your Majesty, no one notices me. You know it—they all say I am a slave's slave."

Amalric I gave a short laugh. "Are there any others?" His gaze did not shift. "Anyone at all."

Longinus closed his eyes. "There are... Your Majesty."

What exactly were Grace and Bestowal?

Cesar held Baldwin's hand. After seeing Amalric I, Baldwin could no longer hold on and had fainted. Cesar too was unspeakably exhausted and sluggish. Only after Heraclius gave them an antidote did they recover a little.

Yet simply being able to sit here together was enough to leave both Baldwin and Cesar content.

"Even if we weren't chosen," Baldwin said optimistically, "it doesn't matter. When the time comes, I can become a monk with you. If they refuse to let me stay with you, I'll have Father build a new monastery for us."

"I think that even if you were not chosen, you might not necessarily be abandoned," Cesar said, voicing his judgment. But he did not reveal Amalric I's true intentions. Perhaps Baldwin would one day glimpse the cruel reality, but if that day could come later, then later it should be.

Baldwin turned toward Cesar. In the dim light, those emerald-like eyes looked like obsidian—a point of light was slowly spreading out from the center of that obsidian...

"God..." he said in a trembling voice. "God bless you, Cesar..."

"No." Cesar stared at Baldwin, who was glowing. "It is you."

Note 1: Judas of Kerioth was one of Jesus's twelve disciples, who ultimately betrayed Jesus out of greed. Jephthah was a cruel general who won a battle by sacrificing his own daughter. Jezebel was a queen of Israel who encouraged her husband to carry out cruel persecution and slaughter.