Let it be said plainly.
Eating in the knights' dining hall is not an enjoyable experience.
No—calling it a "knights' dining hall" may cause confusion.
Eating in the Knights Templar dining hall is not an enjoyable experience at all.
Is the food bad?
Not at all. The food is not the problem.
The problem is that conversation during the meal is strictly forbidden.
It would have been better if it were simply silent.
"Jesus Christ said…"
One knight stood at the center table and read from the Scriptures.
And in a voice loud enough to echo throughout the entire hall.
"I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me shall never hunger."
Nothing else could be heard.
Only the quiet tearing of bread and meat.
I had heard that the knights kept silence while eating…
But I did not expect this much.
Why did I insist on eating with them?
"Curiosity killed the cat."
This was exactly that situation.
I looked along the long wooden table.
All the knights silently ate what lay on their plates.
Candles placed along the table cast a faint light upon them.
At least they were not eating at right angles.
I picked up a piece of bread and shoved it into my mouth.
With cheese on top, it was tolerable—
My throat immediately tightened.
"I've already finished the water."
The cup before me was empty.
I looked around for a jug.
There was one beside Aig, who sat diagonally across from me.
I signaled to Aig.
The rough sign language I had learned before entering the hall.
"Fish" was a swimming motion with the hand.
"Spicy" was sticking one's index finger into the mouth, was it not?
What was water…
I strained my memory.
[Water, please.]
[What?]
[Water.]
Aig tilted his head.
In the end, I gave up on sign language and mimed gulping.
That should be clear enough.
The knight's reading rang out.
"Whoever believes in me shall never thirst."
Lord.
Is it because I am a nonbeliever that I am so thirsty?
At this rate I really will die of thirst.
Aig nodded as if he understood.
He lifted a bottle and handed it to me.
What I received was—
An elixir bottle.
Drink liquor? In broad daylight?
I frantically signaled again.
[Not this. Water.]
[What?]
[Wa—ter.]
When I repeated the drinking gesture, Aig flinched in surprise.
Now he understood?
Aig gestured to the man beside him and received another bottle.
He handed it to me with a bright smile.
Another elixir bottle.
Then why the surprise?
Was he startled because I asked for two?
I stared at Aig, holding the bottles.
Was he doing this on purpose?
I could hardly spit in a smiling face.
In the end, I gave up.
I forced down the hard bread.
At that moment someone set a cup of water before me with a firm sound.
When I turned my head, I saw a familiar face.
The man who had come with Hugh to fetch me in Eilat.
Balian.
He gestured that he would wait outside.
After finishing my meal as quickly as possible, I left the hall at once.
Already arrived?
"Sir Balian. I heard you had departed, but I did not expect you so soon."
"Count Raymond provided a fast vessel. Did you enjoy your meal?"
"I could not tell whether it went down my mouth or my nose."
"They eat that way to reduce the pleasure of food. Even so, the knights fare better than the clergy, as they are permitted meat more often."
Balian smiled faintly.
"In the Rule of Benedict, meat is strictly forbidden."
Forbidden meat.
Then only fish?
It was fortunate indeed that I had not possessed a clergyman.
"Next time, I shall dine with the Guardians of the Holy Sepulchre."
Viking warriors—surely they ate well.
I would like to try mead at least once.
"The Guardians of the Holy Sepulchre. My elder brother speaks ill of a man named Ruaak without cease. I hear he is their commander."
"That is correct. He was the commander of the Varangian Guard in Constantinople."
"To send a former guard commander as overall leader. It seems the Roman Emperor is earnest indeed."
Balian said.
He looked toward the sea.
"That the Empire and the Kingdom should be bound in blood alliance—there could be no finer diplomatic achievement."
He added with a smile,
"You have accomplished something truly remarkable, Prince. When news of the assassination first arrived, His Majesty was greatly concerned…"
"I was the most surprised of all."
I said.
Princess Manni's rampage had been reckless in the extreme.
Had I not intervened, the imperial couple would have lost their lives.
And if that crime had been laid upon our Jerusalem delegation—
I did not wish to imagine it.
"In the end, matters were resolved well. Andronikos and the potential rebels were all removed."
"Potential rebels. Princess Theodora could have been included among them."
Balian said.
"His Majesty has decided to accept the betrothal proposal. The wedding may be held in Jerusalem next year."
"So it has come to that."
I said.
Had Baldwin IV not suffered from leprosy, he would have married her himself.
A leper could hardly father children.
There was even custom discouraging marriage altogether.
So the opportunity had come to me.
A chance to marry an imperial princess of Rome.
Marriage to a beautiful imperial princess.
It sounded like a line from a fantasy novel.
"How is the mood in the Kingdom these days?"
"Reynald remains shut up in Kerak. Guy in Ascalon. Neither has appeared at court in some time."
Balian said with a smile.
"The Kingdom has never been so stable."
"They have no choice but to remain still."
The more my influence grew, the more their presence diminished.
I would have to deal with them eventually.
They were men without foresight.
Perhaps they would provide me an opportunity themselves.
But that was for later.
For now, what mattered was elsewhere.
Saladin.
And Aleppo.
"His Majesty has already begun mustering the army."
Balian nodded, as though reading my thoughts.
"If Saladin moves, we can press Damascus at once."
"Then Aleppo must endure as long as possible. To keep Saladin tied down in the north."
"Indeed. In that sense, you hold the most crucial role, my Prince."
Balian said.
"Count Raymond has pledged full cooperation. Given that you saved him from the raid, it is only natural."
I nodded.
It had been wise to create a debt.
Without my assistance, Tripoli would have suffered greatly.
No one was unaware of that.
"I am making every preparation possible. Constantinople has also promised support."
I said with a smile.
I had several cards with which to pressure Saladin.
The Roman navy was one of them.
Looking at Balian, I added,
"When the time comes, I will cross to Tripoli myself."
At that moment, someone called my name.
It was Aig.
He ran up, breathing hard.
"Your Highness! Fortunately, you are not drunk."
"Drunk?"
Was he speaking of the elixir?
I could not help but laugh.
"I am not drunk, so do not worry. Has something happened?"
"A f-fleet from Constantinople is expected to arrive."
"A fleet from Constantinople?"
I asked.
That alone did not seem alarming.
"Princess Theodora herself is coming here…"
Balian and I looked at each other.
Hm. Now that was something worth being surprised about.
Cyprus
Venetian Branch
"Hmm—hm—hm."
Marco hummed to himself as he walked through the office.
He nodded to the laborers he passed as though greeting them.
Each time, the workers looked at him in surprise.
And they were not the only ones surprised.
"Was Marco always like that?"
"He used to skulk about like a shadow. Now he seems like a different man."
Fellow merchants whispered as they watched him.
"I heard he nearly died here in Cyprus. He seems changed since then."
"Hey, Marco!"
"Oh, it is you! What is it?"
Marco replied with a bright smile.
"I hear you meet Prince Baldwin frequently these days. What have you done here to earn such favor?"
"Yes, share the secret with us."
"It is nothing, my friends. I merely worked hard."
"Feigning modesty. Even in Venice, many praise you. In the past you would have boasted loudly—"
"Of course, in the past perhaps. But is not the most important thing to work for the interests of Venice, my friends?"
Marco said with a smile.
"Let me ask you this. How happy would one be if he knew the destiny appointed to him?"
"Why speak suddenly of destiny?"
"Do you claim you now know your own?"
"Ah, I see. You summoned a witch to divine it. I hear in the northern towns they cast dice or sticks to foretell fortune."
"Is that not forbidden by the Church? You will bring trouble again—"
"Do not worry. I do not believe in such crude superstition."
Marco said.
"I cannot explain in detail, but in any case, I have come to know my destiny. It was a revelation from the heavens above."
He laughed.
"Become my apprentice, and I will secure you each a position. So from now on, you would do well to treat me kindly."
"If you are Doge, then I must be Pope."
At one merchant's remark, the others burst into laughter.
They waited for Marco's reaction.
But Marco merely laughed heartily.
"Who can know the will of the Lord? Perhaps you will indeed become Pope."
"Marco has finally lost his mind."
They shook their heads.
"So he is humble one moment, and the next he speaks of being Doge. His pride pierces the sky."
"In any case, let us return to work. We are certain to work late again."
"It will take ages just to fulfill Prince Baldwin's orders."
The merchants chatted as they returned to their offices one by one.
Only Marco remained.
He stretched contentedly.
"Then let us begin today's work as well."
May, 1182.
A rumor shook the Levant.
"Saladin is mustering an army to pacify the north!"
It did not take long for the rumor to prove true.
The armies of the amirs gathered near Damascus.
Tents and siege engines were arranged beyond the city walls.
The sand raised by their movement made it difficult to see clearly.
Poets and jurists stepped forward to recite verses praising Saladin.
"Glory to the commander of brave warriors! Curse upon the infidels and idolaters!"
Yet not all shared such fervor.
A few murmured in low voices.
"In times like these, Muslims must not attack fellow Muslims!"
"Are not our enemies the Franks in al-Quds?"
But such voices were quickly swallowed by the cheers.
The citizens loved their Sultan, Saladin.
A ruler of mercy and tolerance.
A guardian who had brought order to their once-chaotic lands.
When Saladin marched through the city, that fervor reached its height.
A grand procession advanced through the city center.
At the front rode two knights upon white horses.
At the center was Saladin.
Clad in black silk over chainmail.
A long sword hung at his side.
Pipers and poets sang of his deeds to the beat of drums.
The citizens gazed upon the great procession in awe.
"O Sultan! Bring us a glorious victory!"
Saladin raised his hand in reply.
"I shall bring our northern brethren who reject jihad back into the embrace of Allah!"
"Waahhh!"
The roar of Damascus echoed against the walls.
Once more, a time of upheaval was approaching.