Chapter 31: Arriving in the Holy Land
Today was a rare spell of good weather. The sky was clear for miles, the wind gentle, and the waves calm. After the death of that harsh and stingy Jewish merchant, the captain and sailors no longer needed to feign busyness. They exposed their damp, sticky skin and lounged leisurely on deck, sunbathing. All sorts of laundered clothes hung from the mast. Passengers also chatted in twos and threes on deck; no one wanted to stay cooped up in the stuffy cabins any longer.
For the past two days, the atmosphere on board had been very awkward. Several passengers had simply disembarked at Crete, planning to transfer to other ships to reach the Holy Land, just to escape the awkward situation.
On the night of the Sirens, Lothar had witnessed many unsightly scenes—passengers and sailors, men and women alike, embracing in a tangled mass… And in Catholic doctrine, both adultery and homosexuality were sins.
"Once we reach the Holy Land, all sins will be erased," Father Beckett had told the people. That night, under the influence of the Sirens' song, he himself had tumbled with a male sailor in a cabin for a long time.
Jesus certainly wouldn't think that people's sins were entirely erased just by arriving in the Holy Land, but the priest still said so. Just as Jesus wouldn't consider killing infidels sinless, but rather a path to Heaven, yet His Holiness the Pope had said so.
Sailors had a particularly clear-eyed view of these things. Having spent years journeying on the seas, their faith wasn't particularly devout. When tsunamis, pirates, or storms struck, they might even pray to the pagan sea god Poseidon. And on a narrow ship, almost isolated from the world, homosexual encounters, while not commonplace, were certainly not unimaginable.
The Sirens' corpses were said to yield a precious perfume with aphrodisiac qualities, comparable to ambergris, but Lothar abandoned the idea of cutting up their bodies to extract it. He couldn't yet bring himself to butcher humanoid creatures as if they were pigs or sheep. Even if he could, the idea of using it selling aphrodisiac didn't seem compelling to him.
***
Two full days had passed since they sailed from Crete. They had passed Cyprus Island in the interim but hadn't lingered, merely replenishing their freshwater before departing. It was once a core territory of the Eastern Empire but had opportunistically declared independence after the coronation of the Eastern Empire's Empress Regent and possessed a respectable naval force.
After Cyprus, they were very close to the Holy Land. From time to time, they could vaguely see the distant, dusky yellow coastline. Ship traffic here had also become much denser: merchant ships laden with spices and silks from the East; passenger ships carrying scattered crusaders; and pirate galleys, equipped with numerous large oars and ballistae mounted on their prows, darting about like the wind. Shattered planks and barrels from plundered and destroyed merchant ships, as well as the wreckage of pirate ships sunk by navies, could often be seen floating on the sea.
"Look quickly!" The sailors suddenly became excited. Someone cheered, "It's our ships!"
On the distant horizon, a massive fleet gradually appeared before them: smaller frigates, enormous capital ships, galleys... Their huge black sails were emblazoned with white cross insignia. Sails billowed in the wind, providing powerful propulsion, driving those great ships across the sea.
"That's... the fleet of the Knights Hospitaller!"
Lothar immediately ordered, "Hoist the Crusader flag! Don't let our Christian brothers misunderstand our identity!"
Father Beckett said with shared pride, "The Knights Hospitaller possess a formidable naval force in the Holy Land. They frequently patrol the seas, protecting trade routes and the safety of maritime pilgrims." This was the power of the Knightly Orders today. Not kingdoms, yet surpassing kingdoms.
Lothar gave him a sidelong glance, which made Beckett feel a little sheepish. These past few days, Father Beckett had noticeably quieted down. His "indiscretion" had caused him to lose considerable face on the ship, and fearing Lothar might spread the word, he had become anxious and insecure.
When the cog arrived at the port outside Jaffa, it was precisely noon, when the light was at its harshest. The land here was severely weathered, with deserts everywhere. A few badly eroded tower-like structures could vaguely be seen, standing tall on the vast, empty desert.
Fringilla's lazy voice sounded, "Milord, the sun is so strong, it's scorching me to death."
Lothar felt helpless. "Stop pretending. You only overexerted your spiritual power once; you were fine after sleeping for two days. How could a dignified royal vampire like you be so fragile?"
"It's precisely because I'm a vampire that I'm afraid of the sun!"
Banu remained quietly by Lothar's side, like his shadow. She usually tried to minimize her presence, but at critical moments, she always brought a sense of reassurance.
"Hans, raise my swallowtail banner!" Lothar commanded. "From this day forward, we will likely be dealing with many nobles. You will temporarily serve as herald."
Hans looked troubled. "My apologies, Milord. Though I am honored to accept this position, my knowledge of heraldry is limited. I fear I may not be competent."
Lothar shook his head. "Competent or not, we must have one. Besides, your knowledge of heraldry already surpasses that of most knights."
Ryan, instructing his subjects, called out loudly, "All of you, stand up straight! Remember what Sergeant Moder and I taught you these past few days. Don't disgrace Milord!"
"Yes!" The men among these subjects were now all armed with spears and shields. Though unarmored, they all wore uniform surcoats and looked quite presentable. Of course, they were currently just for show, serving only as an honor guard. Their combat effectiveness was only slightly better than that of conscripted peasant soldiers. Theoretical knowledge could never compare to actual training.
Lothar took a deep breath of the dry wind blowing from the inland. 'Finally, we're here!'
"This is the Holy Land. Countless people come here seeking redemption... and wealth. Knights from the West, impoverished and destitute, can also transform themselves here into lords of a city." Lothar stood on the quay. Stepping onto solid ground for the first time in days made his footing unconsciously unsteady; it was Banu who promptly steadied him.
"Prepare to depart. Jerusalem is not far from here. The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner we can rest."
He handed the cog over to its captain, but all the merchant's wealth on board was requisitioned by him as "sacred funding" for the defense of the Holy Land.
Not long after they set out, Lothar saw a party disembarking from the quay. They carried a banner with a yellow field and a red cross, and most wore surcoats of dark red and white. They were well-equipped, clearly professional soldiers and knights.
The leading knight, holding his horse, asked directly, "That familiar lion rampant emblem, are you of the Habsburg family?"
"And who might you be?" Lothar frowned. The Habsburgs were not a particularly illustrious family, their influence largely confined to Swabia and Bavaria. He truly hadn't expected to be recognized so soon after disembarking.
"I am Knight Kevin McKidd, in service to Baron Godfrey of Ibelin. This is my young master whom I serve, Lord Balian, the sole heir to Baron Ibelin."
Lothar shifted his gaze to the young man in a dark red surcoat behind the knight. So this was the main person, though he seemed to have little presence.
"I am Lothar of Aargau, second son of Count Werner of the Habsburg family, and also a landless knight." Lothar nodded in greeting. "It is an honor to meet you, Sir Balian of Ibelin, and Knight Kevin."
"Knight Lothar, your father and my master are very good friends. They once served His Majesty the King together in the Royal Knights of Jerusalem. I personally witnessed their profound friendship as they fought side by side." Knight Kevin looked at Lothar's surcoat, a hint of reminiscence in his eyes. "It was exactly this style of robe. Truly nostalgic."
The Royal Knights of Jerusalem was clearly not a military religious order like the Templars or Hospitallers, but rather an honorary title similar to the Order of the Golden Fleece in later Burgundy, representing a chivalric rank and honor.
"I just don't understand why he chose not to stay in the Holy Land, but instead returned to a poor, remote place like Switzerland to become a country count."
"To be honest, I don't understand what he was thinking either—I always thought he returned to Swabia because he couldn't make it in the Holy Land," Lothar shrugged. He had heard of the man; Baron Godfrey of Ibelin was one of the few comrades-in-arms in the Holy Land whom Count Werner had occasionally mentioned.
The Ibelin family was no simple affair. Though only a barony, its prestige was still incomparable to that of Count Werner of Aargau. Firstly, Ibelin was very close to Jaffa, a prosperous trading city with an endless stream of merchant caravans; the taxes alone constituted a huge income. Furthermore, the Kingdom of Jerusalem was limited in scale; there were only a dozen or so named barons in total. And Baron Ibelin was clearly a leading figure among them, a confidant of King Baldwin, a staunch royalist, possessing more than just the fief of Ibelin under his name.
On the way here, Lothar had been mulling over how to connect with them, never expecting to coincidentally meet the heir and a vassal here.
Knight Kevin inquired, "Knight Lothar, are you heading to the Holy City?"
"Indeed. Now that I've arrived in the Holy Land, how can I restrain my urgent desire to immediately hasten to the Holy City to venerate the Holy Sepulchre and the Basilica of the Agony on the Mount of Olives?"
"Ha, indeed so. If you don't mind, let us travel together. His Lordship the Baron is currently waiting in Jaffa. I believe he would be very pleased to meet both his own son and the son of his old friend at the same time."
"That would be excellent." Lothar, all smiles, engaged him in conversation. "Balian, are you Gallic?"
Balian nodded slightly. "Yes, that's correct, Knight Lothar."
"Balian, you seem a bit reserved?"
"Indeed... I am not a noble. I mean, I was once just a blacksmith, so I am not skilled in dealing with people like you."
"I understand." Lothar nodded. "But if I may be frank, you have no need to be reserved. This era is rife with nobles as vile as scoundrels. As long as you possess a noble soul, even a blacksmith can proudly look down upon kings and princes."
Balian's situation, to put it bluntly, was that of a legitimized illegitimate son, not uncommon in this era. It was often seen in families without heirs, though of course, due to weaker claims, their inheritance was sometimes forcibly seized by powerful noble relatives. The Middle Ages emphasized legal principles, but ultimately, it still came down to strength.
***
PS: Much of the content in the movie 'Kingdom of Heaven' has been artistically altered or even fabricated. For example, Balian was not an illegitimate son but the third son of the family, nor was he as young as depicted in the movie.