I Became The King Of Crusaders [EN]: Chapter 158

< 158. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (3) >

The death of Baldwin IV and the ascension of his nephew, Baldwin V, created a ripple of uncertainty.

Despite the sudden turmoil surrounding the throne, life in the Kingdom of Jerusalem continued.

“Did you hear the news? There’s going to be a council held in Jerusalem soon.”

“I heard that envoys from Constantinople are coming too. It’s going to be packed with people.”

Envoys are expected not only from Rome, Constantinople, and Germany, but also from distant Abyssinia [modern-day Ethiopia]!

This news quickly spread throughout the kingdom.

Dozens of ships traveled back and forth to the port, and merchants prepared the necessary supplies for the envoys.

Pilgrims from Europe passed through Jerusalem and Bethlehem, offering prayers as they had for centuries.

“I’ve seen the same paintings in Acre, Tyre, and Tripoli!”

“So, one person drew all these paintings?”

People stared at the paintings of Baldwin IV displayed in front of the church. Dozens, even hundreds, of identical paintings were enough to attract attention.

They commemorated the Leper King in their own ways.

However, the peaceful atmosphere did not last. Before the council even began, disputes erupted.

Fists flew in taverns, and a man was caught trying to set fire to a settlement established by Eastern Roman (Byzantine) immigrants.

Orthodox Christians, who had lived in the Levant since the Roman Empire, clashed with Roman Catholic Christians who came from Europe.

The conflict, simmering for hundreds of years, was reignited.

“We Romans have lived in Jerusalem from the beginning! Do you know how many Orthodox Christians the Latin Crusaders killed when they conquered Jerusalem?”

“The problem was that the Roman Church added the Filioque clause [a theological dispute about the Holy Spirit’s origin] in the first place! The Holy Spirit only proceeds from the Father…”

“You bastard, you’re a Bogomil [a dualistic religious sect]! You heretics who follow Manichaeism [an ancient religion with Zoroastrian and Christian influences]!”

“I, I am a Christian!”

“Christian, my ass!”

The uproar over doctrine and history grew as the date of the council approached.

What is the will of God?

Everyone had a different answer to that question.

* * *

Jerusalem Royal Palace

“It was a problem that was bound to explode someday, Baldwin,” Theodora said with a sigh.

“There are quite a few immigrants who have moved from Constantinople recently. A society where Roman Catholicism is the mainstream must be unfamiliar to them.”

“We can’t just stand by and watch.”

I said as I began to walk. Theodora and I were taking a stroll in the garden together.

The pond in the center of the garden came into view.

Golden, silver-white, tan, and more.

The carp in the pond displayed a variety of colors.

‘Even the carp get along so well, but the Christians are fighting to the death.’

The Roman Church and the Church of Constantinople had been at odds since the Great Schism of 1054 [the split between the Eastern and Western Christian churches].

The council reignited that old feud.

“There must be people behind the scenes instigating the conflict,” Theodora said, stopping.

“Both the Roman Church and Constantinople must have agents in the streets.”

“Agents in the streets, that means… Ah, I see what you mean.”

I realized what Theodora meant. This council was a power struggle over who would take the lead.

Neither Rome nor Constantinople would yield. Both sides were clearly using people to stir up public opinion.

“It’s fortunate that there is little interaction with Abyssinia (Ethiopia). If they had joined in…”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It would have been a complete mess.

I scratched my head.

Dealing with envoys from each church was manageable. But calming the people fighting over religious issues was not easy.

Especially when (Italian) Rome and (Eastern) Rome were pulling strings behind the scenes.

‘Saladin might try to exploit this situation as I did in Egypt.’

Sunni and Shia.

Latin Church and the Church of Constantinople.

If a massacre broke out among the believers…

It would be impossible to repair the damage.

Then Theodora said, “I’ll visit the settlements with the other nobles. They won’t dare to fight in front of me.”

“Then they might think that the royal family is favoring Greek, or Eastern Roman immigrants.”

I shook my head. Theodora was also from the Eastern Roman imperial family.

If the conflict worsened, she could be targeted.

“Then you’ll have no choice but to issue a royal decree yourself, punishing those who fight, regardless of which church they belong to…”

Theodora frowned and stopped talking.

“But the fighting won’t stop. If it could be solved with a simple decree, the church wouldn’t have separated in the first place.”

“…”

We stopped in front of the pond.

When I threw a piece of bread, the carp swarmed around.

I stared blankly at the scene.

Theodora and I couldn’t travel around the kingdom ourselves.

It would take too long, and it didn’t seem like it would be effective.

‘The only possible way is to issue a royal decree to prevent conflict, as Theodora said.’

The conflict between the two churches was too deeply rooted to be resolved by such a superficial measure. I continued to ponder.

I’m not the only ruler who has faced this challenge.

National identity, as we understand it today, didn’t clearly exist in this era.

People identified themselves with the region where they lived, their lineage, and the religion they practiced.

What is needed to unite them?

‘Do I have to become a medieval Goebbels [referencing Joseph Goebbels, Nazi propaganda minister]?’

Then a thought flashed through my mind. An idea so obvious that it made me chuckle.

“They won’t continue fighting when faced with an external enemy.”

“Are you suggesting Saladin as an external enemy?” Theodora asked.

“But he’s intelligent. He knows that attacking us during the council would be disadvantageous for him.”

“You’re right. But we don’t have to wait for Saladin to attack.”

I stroked my chin. It didn’t have to be a full-scale war, but a decisive action was needed.

A decisive and powerful blow to divert everyone’s attention.

Where can we achieve the maximum impact with the minimum force?

“Mecca.”

I said, looking at Theodora.

Mecca.

A holy city of immense importance to Muslims, even more so than Jerusalem, and the location of the Kaaba [Islam’s holiest shrine].

“We have to strike Mecca.”

Theodora frowned at my words.

“But isn’t Mecca a holy city for Muslims? It’s like Jerusalem to them. If the Muslims rise up…”

“That’s what would happen if we occupied Mecca. I don’t intend to do that. At least not yet.”

I said with a smile.

[Attack on the enemy’s holy land!]

There couldn’t be a more potent piece of propaganda than this.

“Then it’s practically a suicide mission. Who are you going to entrust it to?” Theodora asked, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re not planning to go yourself, are you?”

“I’d like to, but I have too much to manage here. I can’t abandon the council.”

We passed the pond and went back into the palace.

There was one person who was perfectly suited for this.

A person who could be used for such a reckless mission.

I turned to look at Theodora.

“You need a madman to pull off a mad plan.”

Reynald of Kerak.

The untamed Crusader.

If we play our cards right, we can kill two birds with one stone.

* * *

The next morning

Jerusalem Royal Palace

“Damn it!”

Reynald slammed down his glass, panting.

“Did you bring this for me to drink?! I told you to bring the elixir!”

“I, I’m sorry, Lord,” the servant stammered.

Reynald clicked his tongue as he watched the servant scurry away. He glanced around the room.

Baldwin had not yet arrived. The new king of Jerusalem.

Reynald tried to scoff, but stopped himself.

Baldwin possessed a strange power.

A gaze that seemed to penetrate everything.

From Eilat to Europe and the Battle of Hattin, Baldwin’s achievements were well-known throughout Jerusalem.

Reynald muttered curses under his breath. With the downfall of Guy and his allies, Reynald’s influence was at an all-time low.

‘And Baldwin ascended the throne without my assistance.’

The new king of Jerusalem owed him nothing. Just as he was about to drink the elixir that the servant had brought, the door swung open.

Reynald looked at the man entering the room. A pure white cloak and a crown adorned with sparkling jewels.

It was Baldwin.

“Lord Reynald, you arrived sooner than I expected.”

“I was already in Jerusalem when you sent the letter.”

Reynald barely suppressed the churning in his stomach. He stood up and bowed as respectfully as possible.

“If it weren’t for Saladin’s threat, I would have been able to attend His Majesty’s coronation.”

“I can’t fault a lord for protecting his land, can I? I understand.”

Baldwin sat on the throne with his characteristic smile. A smile that suggested he knew everything.

Reynald forced a smile and sat on the chair. His eyes met the king’s, and silence filled the room.

“I fought alongside the late King Baldwin IV on many occasions. I even defeated Saladin’s army at Montgisard,” Reynald said.

“If Your Majesty permits it, I will now fight for His Majesty Baldwin V.”

“Of course, there’s no reason to refuse that. But there are a few things I need to clarify first.”

At his words, Reynald bit his lip tightly.

“The battle that took place at the Horns of Hattin,” Baldwin said, looking directly at him.

“At that time, your knights fought alongside Count Guy. How do you explain that?”

“Those men have nothing to do with me. They left Kerak without my consent. I never aided Guy.”

Reynald said, wiping away his cold sweat.

“…I see.”

Silence returned. Baldwin stood up and said, “Then there’s no obstacle to swearing allegiance to me, unless you refuse to acknowledge me as king.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Reynald rose from his chair and approached Baldwin. After a moment of hesitation, he knelt down.

He clasped his hands together and waited for Baldwin to take them.

“Your Majesty, I will be a loyal vassal to the King.”

After that, Reynald stood up and embraced Baldwin. He concealed his seething anger behind his smile.

Now he had to bide his time and wait for the storm to pass.

Once he returned to Kerak, no matter who ruled in Jerusalem, they couldn’t interfere with him.

“I believe you will be a valuable vassal, just as you were to the late king.”

Baldwin looked at him with a knowing smile.

“I’ve been contemplating this for some time, and now I’ve made my decision,” he said.

“Lord Reynald of Kerak, I have a mission to entrust to you, a loyal one. A mission more noble and sacred than any Crusader lord has ever undertaken.”

“A mission? What do you mean?” Reynald frowned involuntarily.

“I’m considering launching an attack on Mecca before the council convenes. And there’s no one more suited for that mission than you.”

Baldwin patted his arm and said, “The kingdom and the entire Levant will sing your praises. Perhaps even the Saracens will tremble at your name.”

“I, I…”

Reynald looked at Baldwin, struggling to find the right words. His hands trembled.

“I have Kerak. In this situation, how can a lord…”

“You don’t need to worry about Kerak. The royal family will manage it directly to ensure no problems arise. So swear here,” Baldwin said with a smile.

“Swear that you will conquer Mecca, no matter the cost. That you will strike at the Saracens.”

He added, “Isn’t that what you’ve always desired?”