The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 128 The Victory Celebration in Beirut

The main hall of the Beirut Governor's Palace was brightly lit for the first time since the siege began two weeks ago.

A whole olive wood was burning in the huge stone fireplace, dispelling the damp chill of January on the Mediterranean coast.

The long, horseshoe-shaped oak tables in the hall were covered with crisply starched linen and laden with a generous amount of food, though not luxurious.

A whole roasted lamb, golden brown; a rich broth made with freshly caught fish from the port; mountains of dried figs and nuts; and jugs of wine and ale from the Lebanese mountains that had been urgently shipped from Sidon…

The barrels stood upright against the wall, and servants were using long-handled wooden ladles to continuously pour deep red wine or golden ale into ceramic cups and tin pots on the table.

Lyon sat in the head seat at the head of the table. To his right, his uncle Jacob, unusually dressed in a neat black priest's robe, sat quietly in his seat, contrary to his usual casual demeanor.

Just kidding, almost all the lords of the Kingdom of Jerusalem are gathered here, he wouldn't dare to do anything rash.

Zahir, being a Saracen, was not allowed to sit at the table, so he stood discreetly behind Lyon.

The lords tacitly ignored his existence.

Count Raymond, as the key figure in relieving the siege and the most powerful person in the area, sat to the left of Lyon's seat of honor.

"Gentlemen," he rose, raising his glass, his voice soft, but the lords fell respectfully silent, "first, let us thank God for His blessing, which allows us to breathe freely again in this beautiful city. Second, let us pay tribute to all the soldiers who shed their blood to defend Beirut, whether dead or alive. Finally…"

He turned to Lyon, who was seated in the center of the main seat, and nodded slightly: "Respect to our young prince, it was his strategic planning that led us to victory in this battle."

As soon as he finished speaking, cheers and responses came like a tidal wave.

Reinald was the first to loudly agree, slamming his heavy tin cup on the table with a bang, his spirits high: "Well said! If Your Highness hadn't defeated that scoundrel Adil at sea, we might still be glaring at Saladin outside Beirut right now! This cup is for Your Highness!"

He tilted his head back and gulped down a large glass of ale, the foam wetting his beard, making the new scars on his face even more noticeable in his excitement.

Surrounding him were mostly knights from Transjordan and warlike minor lords from places like Assuf and Toruń. They raised their glasses in a boisterous and straightforward manner.

Lord Humphry of Torun coldly watched his stepfather's almost manic and comical behavior, silently lowered his head and drank in silence, occasionally glancing at Lyon, who sat upright in the main seat, his eyes filled with resentment.

He has been in a cold war with Reinard for more than half a year.

It was all arranged that he and Princess Isabella would marry, but what happened? Why did that old scoundrel of a stepfather agree to the king's proposal to arrange a marriage between the princess and the Roman emperor?!

The Greeks, living in remote and mountainous terrain, had been soundly defeated by the Hungarians, Venetians, and Turks. What value did they have in forming an alliance with them?!

Who is Humphry? The grandson of the former Lord of Torun and Chief of the Stables of the Kingdom, and the stepson of the Duke of Transjordan! What right does that leper king have to look down on him! What right does that old scoundrel of a stepfather have to slap himself in the face and become a laughingstock to the world!

And that crown prince! It's better to believe that the Greeks could restore the borders of Theodosius the Great than to believe that a child that age could have such abilities!

"You're a bit drunk, Reinald." Guy, who was next to Reinald, stood up helplessly, patted Reinald's shoulder, then pressed him down forcefully and said loudly to the crowd, "Gentlemen, I also have a lot to say."

"The Duke and the Earl have spoken our minds," Guy said, his voice not loud, but clear to everyone. "The fact that the soldiers on land were able to retreat unscathed from the Bekaa Valley, and even forced Saladin to temporarily curb his ambitions, is primarily due to God's care and guidance."

He paused slightly, making the sign of the cross with his right hand: "But please allow me, at this moment, as the acting head of the stables of the kingdom, and as a knight who once strayed but has been given a new mission by the grace of the Lord, to say a few more words."

The hall grew even quieter. Many knew of Guy's dramatic rise to power and held their breath in anticipation.

"At that time, I was living in seclusion in Jaffa due to my injury, and I felt extremely lost." Guy looked at Lyon, his tone becoming more serious. "It was His Highness's recommendation and trust that propelled me, an almost forgotten lost knight, to this position, giving me the opportunity to serve my lord and the kingdom."

"The victory at sea was a miracle Your Highness personally orchestrated. And the ability to hold the line in the Bekaa Valley on land was entirely due to the reliance of everyone present… Without Your Highness's trust, there would have been no subsequent trust and cooperation from you all, and the defeat of Saladin in the Bekaa Valley would have been impossible." He raised his glass to Lyon, "May the Lord bless you doubly!"

Guy's speech was met with cheers from the lords, and Lyon raised his specially diluted wine glass and humbly nodded to Guy.

Although Reinald felt slightly uncomfortable that Guy had stolen some of the limelight, he laughed heartily and said, "Guy is right! Your Highness has a keen eye for people!"

Not far away, Balian silently observed Humphry, who could have become his son-in-law, the excited Guy, and Reinard, without making a sound.

After Guy finished speaking, he raised his glass and subtly praised, "Your Highness's great victory will surely bring great joy to the King upon your return to Jerusalem!"

On the other side, Count Reginald de Grinier of Seton sat upright.

Due to a persistent shoulder ailment, his movement to raise the glass was somewhat slow, but his voice was gentle: "Congratulations on Your Highness's great victory! Congratulations on the kingdom's great victory! All the food expenses for the banquet will be covered by me; there will be plenty of fine wine and meat!"

Lord of Acre, acting lord of Tyre, Count of Edessa, and King Jocelyn III, the royal treasurer, sat not far from Lyon.

His professional habit kicked in again. Although he kept reminding himself to enjoy the celebration banquet, his eyes kept wandering over the hall, calculating the cost of the banquet and the subsequent rewards.

Wow, so extravagant! Absolutely too extravagant!

He subconsciously glanced at Lyon in the main seat, secretly marveling at how intelligent this crown prince, who had appeared out of nowhere, was. Perhaps... he could one day truly restore the County of Edessa.

And... why does the Crown Prince look at him in the exact same way the King looks at him?

At that moment, Grand Master Roger suddenly raised his glass and stood up, interrupting Jocelyn's thoughts.

"Tonight, we celebrate not only the victory of a battle, but also another glorious triumph of faith over infidelity! We have dealt a heavy blow to the arrogance of the infidels; glory to God!" Roger proclaimed in celebration, his gaze shifting to the Templars' seats. "The Templar Order has seized the flag and avenged their defeat, fulfilling Grand Master Oddo's dying wish!"

"Therefore, all the primary and all glory must belong to our Father in heaven, to the grace and protection of the Lord Christ!" Roger looked at Lyon and exclaimed approvingly, "It is the Father and Christ who, through Your Highness's hand, have granted us victory! Praise be to the Father! Praise be to Christ!"