The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 27 Royal Permission

Jocelyn turned around stiffly, feeling a headache coming on.

The nephew's light, airy voice came from behind again: "Remember to tell Guy that if he doesn't want to run into an Assassin every step he takes, he'd better release the Assassins in the Knights' prison right away!"

The heavy double doors closed slowly behind Jocelyn with a muffled thud.

Inside the door, the "king" on the throne almost immediately raised his hand and removed the heavy silver mask from his face, revealing Lyon's youthful face, which was filled with exhaustion and excitement. He let out a long sigh, his breath carrying the confidence of relief and the joy of success.

Behind the wall behind the throne, another king, wearing a mask and a silver-white silk robe, staggered out with the help of Jacob. He looked at Lyon through the eye holes of his mask, his eyes filled with incredulous surprise and undisguised admiration. His voice was weak and hoarse, yet contained a smile: "Ah, Uncle's expression just now was exactly the same as mine..."

Lyon quickly rose from his throne, bowed respectfully, and, along with Jacob on either side, helped the real king slowly back to his seat.

"I never expected that His Majesty would agree to my outlandish plan," Leon said, his voice tinged with lingering fear. "Perhaps this is even more... unbelievable than you asking me to become your shadow."

Baldwin waved his hand weakly and laughed, "It's just a trial run in my uncle's city of Akka. Anyway, he's probably not exactly clean with his hands over the years, taking advantage of his position. Even if it fails, it'll be a small punishment."

He paused, leaned forward slightly, turned his mask toward Lyon, and his tone became serious: "However... if the experiment in Acre is truly successful and yields good results, how do you plan to implement it here in Jerusalem? You must know that Acre and the Holy City are not even in the same league, in terms of scale or the extent of their intertwined power..."

"Your Majesty is indeed remarkably optimistic. Jerusalem, as I just mentioned, has naturally been granted a 'Royal License' to a certain workshop or merchant." Lyon's emotions were ignited by this topic, and his speech quickened. "A license can provide them with exclusive business privileges and tax breaks, completely differentiating them from ordinary merchants without licenses, thereby increasing the value of a 'Royal License.' Then, 'Advanced Licenses' and 'Basic Licenses' can be gradually introduced, lower than a 'Royal License,' allowing the earlier licenses to drive the later ones, and the wealthy to help the less wealthy, creating a vibrant and thriving market environment..."

Baldwin listened quietly, and only after Leon finished speaking did he speak calmly, asking the most practical question: "It sounds wonderful. But... to whom do you intend to grant this first and most important permission? This vast Jerusalem is a melting pot of all sorts of people; who can be trusted, and who is willing to take the risk of being the first to cooperate with your unprecedented plan?"

"Uh..." Leon's high spirits deflated instantly, like a punctured balloon. He scratched his head, speechless for a moment. It seemed he truly couldn't find a partner who was both trustworthy and of sufficient standing.

Just then, an invisible force suddenly pushed open the tightly closed high window on one side of the council chamber, and a gust of wind rushed in, causing the candlelight to flicker violently.

A white figure, like a light, falling leaf, silently twirled and landed without stirring up a speck of dust. Altaïr stood still, his gaze calmly sweeping over the three people in the hall from beneath his hood, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Nothing, you can continue your conversation." It was as if he were merely passing by on a stroll.

Seeing the white-robed figure suddenly burst in, Baldwin remained unmoved and coldly said, "Assassins? Failed to assassinate Guy, now they've come to kill me?"

"We will settle accounts with Guy, of course. But the Templars surrounding him are not just for show; we need to consider this carefully." Altaïr's tone was calm, but his gaze turned to Lyon. "I have come here today to report to my master a conspiracy that may be related to Saladin."

Lyon slapped his forehead in anguish, almost groaning, "Didn't I say... next time you give a report, could you choose a secluded spot, or at least... use the door?"

"Master? Saladin?" Baldwin turned sharply to Lyon, his mask unable to conceal the shock and surprise in his voice, his eyes becoming incredibly complex.

The Accord, standing to the side, shifted his gaze back and forth between Lyon and Altaïr, his mouth slightly open and his brows furrowed, desperately searching his memory. "Damn it, did I black out one time and miss some life-altering event?"

Altaïr's expression turned serious. He stepped forward and looked at Baldwin again: "This is a special case because what I'm about to report... requires His Majesty's knowledge, and your support."

"We've discovered a force attempting to undermine and annex the Assassins from within. Our strongholds in Egypt have completely fallen, and several masters have died...at the hands of another master." His voice deepened, tinged with suppressed rage. "And this traitor moved through Egypt almost unchecked. Even more strangely, Saladin's Sultan's Guard turned a blind eye to this even while Count Raymond was on his mission to Cairo!"

He paused, letting the startling information settle in the silence. "I suspect that Saladin was behind it all, winning over and bribing a group of Assassin masters with the aim of taking over all of the Assassins' strongholds in Egypt and even the Levant. This would kill two birds with one stone: both make the Assassins his vanguard and cannon fodder in his expedition against the Zengid dynasty, and in the future... also serve as internal agents to disrupt Jerusalem."

"I have set out to reorganize the Assassin network in Jerusalem to ensure it is not used by Saladin to turn against the kingdom. But at the same time, I also need to seek refuge with the royal family, at least... to ensure that we are not preoccupied with dealing with external conspiracies while also dealing with Sir Guy's purges."

Baldwin remained silent, processing this series of astonishing news. After a moment, he spoke with apology and helplessness: "I'm afraid... I cannot offer you the substantial military asylum you desire. It has always been Guy and his Templar friends who have been determined to uproot you. I have no reason to openly stop them."

"No, Your Majesty, you can." Altaïr raised his head, a sly and confident smile appearing in the shadow of his hood. "For example, like the 'Royal Certificate' that you were just discussing so enthusiastically."

"We operate several sizable caravans in Jerusalem, and throughout the Levant. From Jerusalem to Damascus, from Damascus to Asia Minor, and then..." He smiled meaningfully, "our caravans can travel all the way east to the legendary Seres and bring back the unique... exquisite porcelain from there."

Lyon's eyes gradually brightened as he listened to Altaïr's words. He turned to Baldwin, his tone becoming firm: "No, Your Majesty, there is more to it than this." His gaze slowly shifted to Jacob, who had been in a state of shock from beginning to end and whose mouth had been agape, and a meaningful, even slightly malicious, smile appeared on his face.

"Our priest, in the current situation, doesn't he seem too idle and conspicuous?" Leon said slowly. "Why not consider... letting him serve God and the Kingdom in a different way? For example, by joining the Knights Templar?"

He looked at Accord, deliberately using a relaxed tone to recall his uncle's long-forgotten past: "After all, when you were young, you seriously trained in swordsmanship for several years with Rolo, the captain of the Varangian Guard. You haven't completely lost your foundation, have you?"