xymnovel Chapter 169 Before Departure
Chapter 169 Before Departure
Chapter 169 Before Departure
Henry felt a chill run down his spine and bowed his head respectfully: "Your Majesty, please speak."
"Lyon—my brother," Baldwin said meaningfully. "He seems to possess extraordinary wisdom bestowed by God, but he is still just a child. He can see the distant future, but he may not see the thorns beneath his feet."
He paused, a violent cough interrupting his words.
He caught his breath and continued, "The war in the Roman Empire, who knows how long it will last. Saladin's wrath, who knows when it will strike like thunder. And my body—"
He let out a barely audible sigh: "I wonder how long we can hold out. Within the kingdom, it appears stable, but the undercurrents never cease. Who knows if Lyon will be able to control Reinald's unruly nature? Guy seems submissive now, but who knows if he will harbor ambitions again? And Raymond, the most cunning of them all, will he be as loyal to Lyon as he is to me? Once I die, and Lyon is far away in a foreign land—"
He raised his head, his gaze piercing, locking onto Henry: "I want you to swear to me, in the name of your father and foster father, with the honor of the sword in your hand: whatever happens in Greece, whatever terrible news you hear from the Holy Land, your primary mission is to protect Lyon. If—if the kingdom changes, if the throne needs its rightful heir, you must bring him back at all costs. Bring him back to Jerusalem, to sit in his rightful place. Can you do it?"
Henry was stunned.
No, he just came to take on a job and incidentally "coerced" Lyon into taking him to Mainz. How did he end up with the important task of entrusting his son to someone?
"Wait, Your Majesty," Henry hurriedly waved his hand, "I'm just a mercenary, I—how could I?"
"A mercenary? Who said you were a mercenary?" Baldwin leaned forward, staring at Henry. "Have you forgotten? From the moment you agreed to Lyon's request in Jaffa, you became Henry of Jerusalem."
""
"this----"
Henry felt the weight on his shoulders suddenly increase a hundredfold.
Looking at the king before him, who was tormented by illness, he was instantly filled with emotion.
He knelt on one knee and vowed: "In the name of my deceased father, Martin of Scarlitz, in the name of Robert di Visconti who raised me, and with the blade of my sword, I swear to my King Baldwin de Anjou: as long as I have breath, the life and journey of His Highness Lyon will be my supreme mission."
Baldwin stared at him intently for a long time, as if trying to examine every corner of his soul.
Finally, the king seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and his tense shoulders and back relaxed slightly.
He took out a small, exquisite box from his pocket, opened it, and inside was a small, antique-style gold signet ring.
"Keep this safe." He handed the box to Henry. "Inside is a small piece of wood, said to be from the True Cross. It has been with me for many years. In Jerusalem, in the eyes of certain key figures, it represents my will more than the royal seal. If—if that day ever comes, and you return with Lyon, and the situation is perilous, show it to them. Some people will recognize it, will understand my meaning."
Henry accepted it with both hands.
"I will protect this with my life until it has fulfilled its purpose." Henry tucked the box inside his shirt, keeping it close to his skin.
"Alright," Baldwin's voice returned to calm, tinged with a weary relief, "you may step down. Remember your oath, and remember my warning to the cavalry. Go, assist my brother, and fight his first battle in a foreign land."
Henry bowed deeply again, then turned and left the room.
Outside the door, Lyon was pacing anxiously.
Upon seeing Henry emerge, he immediately went to him and asked in a low voice, "How was it? What did the King—say to you?"
Henry shrugged casually. "It's nothing, Your Highness. His Majesty was just particularly interested in the details of Legnano and kept asking me questions for a long time. He probably wanted to see if I, as an infantry commander, really knew anything about warfare."
Finally he said—
He mimicked Baldwin's weary yet authoritative tone, "It seems the rumors were true; you are qualified to escort my brother to Greece." And just like that, I passed!
Lyon was skeptical, but seeing Henry's composed expression, he didn't press further and simply said, "That's good. The personnel and supplies are all ready; we'll depart for Jaffa immediately."
The sun blazes down on Jaffa port.
1100 soldiers assembled in the dock area, forming a colorful array of weapons.
At this moment, everyone's attention was involuntarily drawn to the several new warships docked in the harbor, especially the largest round ship among them.
It retains the wide, stout hull and towering forecourt and sterncastle of the round ship, but the sides have been clearly reinforced and have been given a row of neat square openings with heavy metal covers.
In the center of the deck stood several complex projectiles, constructed with huge torsion ropes and sturdy wooden arms, with sealed terracotta jars neatly stacked beside them.
The ship's wood appears to have undergone special treatment, giving it a dark color, while the prow is carved with a gleaming, winged raven about to take flight.
Zahir's skin was darker than before, but he was radiant and ran excitedly to Lyon and Henry as if welcoming a newborn.
"Your Highness! Oh, Sir Henry! Behold, this is our sea fortress! Completed exactly according to your blueprints, it has undergone seventeen sea trials and is flawless!"
He pointed to the square openings on the side: "Behind each opening is a Greek fire-spraying device! Fuel is supplied from the sealed main tank inside the hull via concealed copper pipes and pumps. Just open the cover, and it's ready to fire! The range is fifteen to twenty paces, enough to cover any enemy ship attempting to board!"
He then pointed to the projectiles on the deck: "As for this device, it can launch clay pots filled with Greek fire a hundred paces or even further! The pots contain impact fuses that ignite upon impact!"
Henry stared intently, and as a seasoned mercenary, he instantly grasped the ship's tactical revolutionary significance.
He murmured, "I feel sorry for the Venetians, the Genoese, and all the pirates and pagan navies—after so many years as a mercenary, traversing the Mediterranean, I have never seen anything so—so unreasonable."
The soldiers were also discussing it amongst themselves.
The crossbowmen gestured excitedly, exclaiming, "Look at the height of that bow and stern! It's practically a natural crossbow tower! Now, with Greek fire protecting the sides, who would dare come close? We can just aim and fire with peace of mind!"
The Danish warriors brandished their axes, roaring, "Great! From now on, in naval battles, we'll burn them first, then jump in and loot! Who dares to board us?!"
The Bohemian soldiers, their faces contorted with embarrassment, watched the waves make them dizzy, muttering, "No matter how powerful the ship is—it's still just rocking on the sea—God help me, don't make me throw up my bile—"
Lyon surveyed the scene with satisfaction.
He turned to Zahir: "How are the fleet's preparations?"
"Everything is ready, Your Highness!" Zahir reported. "The name you chose is truly magnificent—the Jackdaw!" Haha, the Jackdaw will serve as our flagship. The other four round ships of the same class, each carrying one hundred crossbowmen and necessary sailors, will primarily be responsible for long-range attacks. The other nine are the Venetian fast galleys I smuggled from Daniel last time. After being reinforced, they will be responsible for carrying the remaining infantry and most of the supplies, serving both mobility and transport. A total of fifteen ships, fully loaded with supplies, are enough for us to reach Constantinople and sustain operations for a period of time.
"Very well," Lyon took a deep breath of the salty sea air, his gaze sweeping over his soldiers and fleet before finally settling on the distant north, "board! Destination: Constantinople!"