The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 28 Grand Master Gerald

Deep within the Al-Aqsa Mosque, the room of the Grand Master of the Knights Templar was bathed in flickering candlelight. Large, thick tallow candles burned on silver-inlaid candlesticks, casting unsettling shadows on the stone walls.

On the wall of the room hung a huge ivory cross and a magnificent longsword inlaid with precious enamel. A string of crystal-clear sapphires hung from the connection between the hilt and the counterweight, swaying slightly with the airflow.

Grand Master Gerald de Redford was lost in thought, his hands resting on the large oak desk in front of him. On the polished Lebanese cedar tabletop were a set of pure gold jugs and chalices used for Mass, as well as a huge, fully unfolded parchment containing intricate maps of the Kingdom of Jerusalem and loan agreements with Venetian merchants.

Across from Gerald, Guy was slumped in his armchair, chugging wine from a bottle. His eyelids were puffy, and his cheeks had an unhealthy flush.

"Hmph," he slammed the wine bottle down, "The king is finding me increasingly displeasing. Back then... back then, he was the one who begged me to marry Sibylla!"

Gerald, without looking up, continued examining the parchment on the table, and said, "I told you long ago, you shouldn't have cooperated with Joslin to embezzle public funds. Your ally is the Knights Templar; in the entire Latin world, who can compare to our wealth?"

Guy shook his head, took another sip of wine, and said, "How can you so casually use your purses? I am the princess's husband, and the future throne is destined to be mine. That weak king only knows how to appease; those dinars in the treasury are just sitting idle anyway. Why not use them to deal with Saladin!"

Gerald finally raised his head, a hint of disappointment flashing across his face: "Guy, Guy, I don't understand why you've added unnecessary details and made so many foolish moves. You just need to cultivate good relations with the nobles, and then you can rightfully inherit the throne after the king's passing..."

Guy abruptly stood up, slamming his hand heavily on the table, making the metalware clang softly. "You don't understand, Gerald!" he said through gritted teeth. "The King and Raymond chose me simply because I'm a noble bachelor. The kingdom's native nobles are outwardly respectful, but inwardly they despise me! Without prestige, without military achievements, even if I become king, what will I have to command my army?"

"Arresting the Assassins was a wise decision, but you're using the dinars from the national treasury to bail out Reinald?" Gerald let out a short, sneer. "Reinald married the Duchess of Transjordan and is living a comfortable life. Does he need your help?"

Just then, three distinct knocks sounded on the door.

Gerald called out towards the door, "What is it?"

A respectful reply came from outside the door: "Grand Master, Lord Jocelyn of Kurtney has sent an urgent message."

Gerald strode to the door, took the letter from the Templar Knight through the crack, and tore open the envelope as he walked back, his eyes quickly scanning the paper.

Guy asked sullenly, "What did Jocelyn say?"

"The letter says..." Gerald frowned, "The King specifically instructed that if you don't want to run into an Assassin every step of the way, you'd better release the Assassins in the prison."

"Ha! The king fears everything, Saladin, and even the Assassins!" Guy said bitterly. "A bunch of cunning thieves, nothing but my defeated foe!" He paused, then muttered under his breath, "It's just that they're strangely fast at collecting corpses."

Gerald glanced at him and continued reading the letter. Gradually, his face darkened, and his jaw clenched involuntarily: "Guy, it seems your path to succession won't be so easy."

"Um?"

Gerald looked up, his face unusually somber: "The children of the late King and Queen Mother have arrived in Jerusalem from Constantinople and are now at the King's palace."

Guy practically sprang from his chair, his face filled with shock, his voice trembling: "When did the late King and Queen Mother have a child?! Unheard of!" He suddenly remembered the child he'd bumped into in the palace after his argument with Raymond. "Could it be him? That little brat who hasn't even grown his first hair yet?"

Gerald rolled his eyes at him and scoffed, "So you saw him all along? You should have told me sooner!" He scrutinized the disheveled, stubble-covered drunkard before him, gritting his teeth in exasperation, "Look at you! You're nothing like the dashing Knight of Poitiers you once were!"

Guy slumped back into his chair, his hand holding the wine bottle trembling uncontrollably.

Gerald stroked the letter in his hand, then suddenly sneered, "You believe everything Jocelyn says? He wasn't even there. Raymond told him about the child."

"Raymond?" Guy frowned, a sliver of clarity appearing in his muddled mind.

"Don't you find this amusing, Guy?" Gerald's lips curled into a subtle smile. "Raymond has always been at odds with us. Why would he deliberately leak information about this child who could potentially usurp your throne to Jocelyn, who is clearly close to us?"

"Could it be..." Guy stared at the wine bottle in his hand, and a startling guess gradually emerged, rekindling the light in his cloudy eyes.

"Indeed, you're finally showing some spirit, Guy." Gerald gently slapped the letter on the table, a meaningful smile on his face. "It seems Count Raymond... like us, isn't exactly welcoming of this prince who's fallen from the sky."

Guy stood up, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "It's rare...a rare moment when I'm so in sync with Raymond!"

“No, Guy, you still underestimate Raymond,” Gerald said seriously. “This is not a gesture of goodwill, nor is it a compromise; this is Raymond seeking cooperation.”

"That prince of unknown origin, judging from his itinerary, returned entirely with Raymond's mission to Cairo. Therefore, Raymond possesses astonishing intelligence; he can both destroy the child's princely status and prove his legitimacy. He could easily become a powerful minister to the future king based on that trip. As for this future king..."

"It could be that so-called prince, or it could be you, my friend."

"So, Guy," Gerald said smugly, looking at his disheveled friend, "let go of those Assassins who can no longer cause trouble, stay quietly at headquarters, and I'll prepare a guest room for you. Remain restrained, maintain your good relationship with Raymond, and wait..."

He paused, his fingers tapping on the letter on the table: "The chips Raymond is about to put on the gambling table!"