I Became The King Of Crusaders [EN]: Chapter 154

< 154. King of Jerusalem (4) >

“Sibylla, it’s not too late.”

Guy said.

“You could persuade Baldwin. Think of all I’ve done for you all this time…”

“You’re pathetic to the very end, Guy.”

Sibylla said, her voice laced with disdain.

She crossed her arms and looked at her husband, or rather, her soon-to-be-ex-husband.

He was surrounded by knights of the royal court, looking every bit the prisoner he was.

“No more lords support you. You were finished the day you lost at Hattin,” Sibylla said, referring to the disastrous Battle of Hattin [a major defeat for the Crusader forces].

“With the Roman Church also supporting Baldwin, who in the world would help you now?”

“Sibylla, you could have been queen. If only I had become king…”

“I’m already the king’s sister. And soon, I’ll be the king’s mother. That’s enough for me. That cursed position is more than enough,” Sibylla sighed, a hint of weariness in her voice.

“Just a few years ago, I thought you were a brave knight. I thought you had the determination and conviction to fight for the kingdom.”

“…”

“But you were only brave for your own power. If you hadn’t acted so foolishly, the throne would have been yours. Baldwin would have even helped you, perhaps.”

Sibylla said, her tone laced with disappointment.

“It’s too late now. All you can do for the kingdom is disappear from Jerusalem.”

“It’s a big mistake if you think I’ll step down quietly. I still have friends in Europe. If I just return to them…”

“I don’t think you’ll step down quietly. If you were that smart, you wouldn’t have made this mess in the first place.”

Sibylla gestured to the knights, a silent command.

They took out ropes and approached Guy.

“W-What is this! How dare these guys…!”

A knight struck Guy’s head with the hilt of his sword, silencing his protests. The knights dragged his limp body away.

Sibylla nodded to the leading knight, sealing Guy’s fate.

“History will record that you left to find the kingdom of Prester John,” Sibylla muttered, a cynical twist to the tale. [Prester John was a legendary Christian king believed to rule a kingdom in the East.]

“But no one will truly believe it.”

* * *

Jerusalem Royal Palace

“I don’t need help.”

“But, Your Highness…”

“I don’t need it, so you may leave now.”

“Understood.”

The maids bowed and retreated, leaving me alone. I sighed and entered the bathroom.

The bathtub was filled with steaming warm water, promising respite.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve had such a relaxing bath.’

It was hard to have a proper bath after leaving for Europe. The journey had been grueling.

Except when staying in cities like London, it was all about roughly heated water in a tent, a far cry from luxury.

It was impossible to even dream of it on the ship. The memories of vomit, excrement, and the ever-present smell of seawater were still vivid.

Just imagining it made my body shudder. The constant battle to maintain hygiene had been exhausting.

I took off my clothes and sank into the tub. My head spun slightly as I entered the warm water, a wave of relaxation washing over me.

What will happen from now on?

Duke Guy, who stood in my way, is gone, removed from the board.

The prisoners who were caught up in the mess were somehow rescued, a small victory.

But the real danger still exists, lurking in the shadows.

Saladin.

Like a wolf circling around sheep, he was waiting for an opportunity to strike, patient and calculating.

‘He even received reinforcements from the Sultanate of Rum [a Turkish state in Anatolia] under the guise of volunteers.’

Saladin avoided clashing directly with me, choosing instead to gather his army, consolidate his power. The scale of his forces felt larger than in the original history, an ominous sign.

He probably already knows that the Third Crusade has begun in Europe, a distant rumble of thunder.

If so, Saladin too…

I stopped thinking, cutting off the train of thought before it spiraled into anxiety.

Someone came into the bathroom, breaking the silence.

“I told you I didn’t need help?”

“Doesn’t that include your wife’s help?”

“Theodora.”

Turning my head, I saw Theodora standing there in silk clothes, a playful smile gracing her lips.

“That’s unexpected. You always knew who was coming.”

“Let’s just say I was careless this time,” I said with a smile, trying to mask my surprise.

I felt like the more I used my sixth sense these days, the less reliable it became, a frustrating development.

“I wanted to have a conversation, but you seemed so busy that I came here myself. You’ll be even busier in the future.”

“I’ll be even busier in the future?”

“You don’t mean to say you don’t know?”

Theodora approached the tub and said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I’m talking about your coronation. The entire palace is already preparing for it. I guess Baldwin IV wants to do it while he’s still alive, ensuring a smooth transition.”

“…”

It’s only natural, the logical next step.

Now that Guy has been defeated, I’m the only one who can wear the crown, the only viable candidate.

The eighth king of Jerusalem.

Will I become Baldwin V? We’ll have a joint coronation, a symbolic gesture, and when Baldwin IV dies, I’ll be the only one left as king, bearing the full weight of the crown.

‘King, huh.’

Since falling into this world, I’ve been fighting for the throne of Jerusalem for the past few years, a desperate struggle for survival.

I had to become king to stop Saladin and protect Jerusalem, to safeguard the kingdom from destruction.

‘But it still doesn’t feel real.’

Me, a king ruling a country, wielding power and influence.

‘Do I really have what it takes?’

No, Baldwin IV was right, I had to embrace the role, ready or not.

Ready or not, I had to become king, it was my duty.

That was the path I had chosen, the destiny I had accepted.

Theodora looked at me silently, her gaze penetrating.

“…”

Silence flowed, thick with unspoken words.

“You’re always lost in all sorts of worries, Baldwin. But you can’t keep worrying about everything. Do you remember what I said last time?”

She said, her voice soft but firm.

“I said that all help comes with a price. I want to receive that price now,” Theodora said with a chuckle, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

The sound of fabric falling rustled, breaking the silence.

“Don’t you dare ask for interest later…”

“The king’s duty is not only to protect the kingdom,” she whispered in my ear, her breath warm against my skin.

“Creating an heir is also one of the ruler’s clear duties.”

“…”

I swallowed hard without realizing it, my throat suddenly dry. An ominous premonition flashed through my mind, a sense of foreboding.

‘This is going to be a long night.’

* * *

The next morning

Jerusalem Royal Palace

“I believe you know why I called you two here today,” Balian said, looking at the two men sitting in front of him, his expression serious.

Raymond and Count Joscelin, two of the most influential nobles in the kingdom.

Both of them nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

Count Raymond opened his mouth, breaking the silence.

“It’s time to deal with the aftermath, to clean up the mess. We need to move quickly since that Guy fellow is gone, don’t we?”

“A journey to find Prester John. Do you really think there’s a Christian kingdom beyond the East?” Joscelin asked, skepticism evident in his voice.

Raymond scoffed and replied, dismissing his doubts.

“There are Christians in Abyssinia (Ethiopia), so there’s no reason why there shouldn’t be one in the East. A few years ago, His Holiness the Pope and the Holy Roman Empire also sent expeditions to find Prester John, didn’t they?”

He added, his tone dismissive.

“But Guy won’t be able to go beyond Aleppo. He’s already finished, a footnote in history.”

“I’ve taken care of it,” Balian nodded, confirming Guy’s demise.

“Count Guy disappeared while searching for Prester John. Everything will remain as a baseless story, a convenient fiction.”

“Since he left to find Prester John, it’s not strange even if he doesn’t return. His Highness is very thorough, efficient. He got rid of the troublemaker without getting a drop of blood on his hands.”

“He’s done much more than that,” Joscelin countered, acknowledging Baldwin’s accomplishments.

“The hero who saved Constantinople, the guardian of faith, the savior of the Roman Church, the one who received the revelation of King Arthur,” Count Joscelin said, listing Baldwin’s legendary deeds.

“I wouldn’t have obtained Hama and Homs if His Highness hadn’t been there. I would still be a count without a territory,” he looked at the two men and added, expressing his gratitude.

“The only successor to His Majesty the King is Prince Baldwin. Hasn’t His Majesty already made that decision, solidifying his legacy?”

“Isn’t that why the three of us are gathered here like this?” Raymond shrugged, stating the obvious.

“The three of us have served His Majesty Baldwin IV for the past few decades, dedicating our lives to the kingdom. Now we must prepare for His Highness to inherit the throne without any problems, ensuring a smooth transition of power.”

He looked at Balian, seeking confirmation.

“Isn’t that Renard still in Kerak? That guy will definitely cause trouble, he’s always been a thorn in our side.”

“I agree with the Count,” Balian nodded, acknowledging the threat.

“Renard is a runaway horse, unpredictable and dangerous. He was lucky enough to save his life this time by not participating in the civil war, but…”

He muttered, his voice laced with concern.

“He will definitely cause problems during the succession process, disrupting the stability of the kingdom.”

“Then shouldn’t we do something about it? Are we just going to leave a blood-sucking mosquito alone, to fester and spread disease?”

“His Highness has already proposed a plan related to him. His Majesty also thought positively about it,” Balian tapped the table and said, revealing a secret strategy. He stood up and looked at the two counts, his expression resolute.

“But it’s something that requires your help, your expertise and influence.”

“Something that requires our help,” Count Raymond raised his eyebrows and said, intrigued.

“Then why doesn’t His Highness tell us directly? Why the secrecy?”

“His Highness left the palace today. He said he had someone to meet for a while, a private matter.”

“Someone to meet. Does he have someone more important than three great nobles, the pillars of the kingdom?”

“Perhaps,” Balian said with a smile, a hint of mystery in his voice.

“How would we know His Highness’s thoughts? He’s an enigma, a puzzle we can’t solve.”

* * *

Lazarus Knights Headquarters

“I’ve been waiting for you, Your Highness. This way, please,” said a knight of the Lazarus Order wearing a silver mask, his voice muffled.

The same herbal scent as Baldwin IV’s bedroom permeated the air, a familiar and comforting aroma.

“I’ve cleared the area in advance, ensuring your privacy.”

Knights wearing green cloaks approached, their faces hidden. Members of the Lazarus Order, dedicated to serving the sick and the marginalized.

I nodded to them and looked around, taking in the surroundings.

The Knights Headquarters was endlessly clean and quiet, a sanctuary of peace. A place where knights and soldiers with leprosy fulfill their last duties, finding purpose in service.

The sound of reciting the Bible could be heard faintly, a constant murmur of faith.

Aigue and I were led inside by the commander, deeper into the complex.

Going down to the basement through the stairs, we saw layers of sarcophagi, stretching into the darkness. The underground cemetery was also clean, meticulously maintained, without a single spider, a testament to their dedication.

“Since Your Highness emphasized cleanliness, we are paying more attention to the headquarters and hospital facilities, improving the living conditions for our brothers,” the commander said, his voice filled with gratitude.

“Since then, many patients have improved, finding solace and healing. Many have owed their lives to Your Highness, for your generosity and compassion.”

“I probably owe them more,” we went deeper down, descending further into the earth. The air became cooler, and more sarcophagi greeted us, silent witnesses to the passage of time.

“You can go to the innermost part of this passage, Your Highness. I will wait here.”

The knight, who had finished the guidance, bowed and stepped back, respecting my privacy. Aigue also stopped, hesitant to intrude.

“I’ll be waiting here, Your Highness,” he scratched his head with an awkward smile, feeling out of place.

“Actually, I stopped by separately this morning, to pay my respects.”

“Then I’ll go alone, to have a moment of quiet contemplation.”

I took the elixir bottle and went inside, venturing into the heart of the crypt. After passing a few sarcophagi, I finally saw a familiar name, etched in stone.

‘Knight, Wigg. Sleeps here.’

An endlessly concise phrase, a simple epitaph.

A tombstone suitable for the Knights, devoid of embellishment.

Two elixir bottles were already placed in front of the sarcophagus, offerings of remembrance.

One was placed by Aigue this morning, a gesture of friendship. Who put the other one?

Luark?

I put the bottle next to it, completing the trio.

The clattering sound echoed through the empty passage, amplified by the silence.

I slowly opened my mouth, breaking the stillness.

“We would never have won in Italy without you, your courage and skill were instrumental. We wouldn’t have even made it to England, without your sacrifice.”

Silence flowed, heavy with unspoken emotions.

I turned around and leaned against the sarcophagus, seeking support.

The cold touch of the stone was felt on my back, a stark reminder of mortality. Suddenly, Wigg’s last words came to mind, echoing in my memory.

‘All destinies are determined, but they are not determined. That is the only truth I have realized in my life, a paradox of existence.’

A smile formed without me realizing it, a flicker of amusement.

Determined and yet not determined, a contradiction in terms.

What kind of sophistry is this, a riddle wrapped in an enigma?

But now I felt like I understood it somehow, grasping the underlying meaning.

It was impossible to explain in words, a feeling more than a thought.

Like a rainbow in front of my eyes, I could see it, but it disappeared from my mind when I tried to grasp it, elusive and intangible.

“Even if the Kingdom of Jerusalem falls, your name will remain in history forever, etched in the annals of time,” I said, my voice filled with conviction.

The memory of drinking, laughing, and chatting together in Constantinople flashed through my mind, a bittersweet reminder of camaraderie.

“But I will do my best, to prevent that from happening. That’s the only way I won’t be ashamed of you, the only way to honor your memory,” I said, making a solemn vow.

“Now, not only you but many people believe in me and rely on me, placing their hopes on my shoulders.”

Turning around, I walked out of the passage, leaving the darkness behind. As I inhaled, the cold air filled my lungs, invigorating and refreshing.

It felt like I had finished something I had been waiting for a long time, a closure of sorts.

It was time to raise a new curtain, to begin the next act in this grand drama.