xymnovel Chapter 43 Declaration
Chapter 43 Declaration
The atmosphere at the banquet gradually warmed up under the influence of the fine wine. As the nobles toasted each other, the previous barriers seemed to temporarily melt away in the amber liquid.
Baldwin watched this scene, and when the time was right, he gently tapped his wine glass. The crisp sound silenced the noisy hall, and all eyes turned to the King.
"In recent months," the king's voice came through the mask, slightly weary but still clear, "you have all noticed that the tax system in Acre and Jerusalem is different from what it used to be. Merchants are also changing their ways, and these changes may have already affected your fiefdom incomes." His gaze turned to Jocelyn, "Count, please explain this to everyone."
Jocelyn rose, his hands hanging naturally in front of him. "I presume your stewards have already explained the specific details of the new tax system, so I will not repeat them. Whether it's the new or the old system, a good system is one that increases dinar revenue." He paused briefly, allowing this simple truth to settle in everyone's minds. "Previously, the kingdom's annual revenue was usually between 120,000 and 130,000 dinars. However, in the three months since the new tax system was piloted in Acre and Jerusalem, monthly revenue has increased by 30% compared to before."
A series of suppressed gasps filled the room. The nobles exchanged incredulous glances, some instinctively tightening their grip on their wine glasses.
"At the same time," Jocelyn continued, "we are also advancing water conservancy projects and land reclamation. In the past, we have suffered from water shortages and have relied on imports of food from merchants in the Italian city-states and even from the Ayyubid region of Egypt, which has been extremely costly and leaves us vulnerable. We have reached a cooperation agreement with a Lombard merchant and his guild to use the ample dinars brought about by the new tax system for water extraction, agriculture, and the cultivation of cash crops. When the time is right, we will also fortify and upgrade the fortresses along the kingdom's borders."
A brief silence fell over the gathering. The nobles pondered their own calculations: the new system, while desirable, meant disrupting the established power structures within their fiefdoms and having to fund their own recruitment of scribes and accountants. What they found even more unacceptable was entrusting such a crucial matter of state to a foreign merchant. All eyes turned to Guy and Reynald, hoping they would speak up for the traditional nobility.
Guy felt the expectant gazes and knew this was the perfect opportunity to establish his authority. He straightened his back and was about to rise when Reinald's almost cheering roar suddenly rang out:
"Well said! I completely agree!"
Guy froze, and he and the nobles all turned to look in Reinald's direction. The man had already stood up, his hands on the table, as if he were attending a military meeting.
"We should have done this a long time ago!" His eyes burned with fanaticism. "Why should we keep sending money to those damned Saladin and the infidels? The bread our knights eat, the hay our warhorses eat, almost all come from infidel lands. Aren't you ashamed?" He pounded his chest. "If you ask me, we should be self-sufficient! Even dogs wouldn't eat infidel food!"
Having said that, he thumped his chest again with gusto and shouted, "I don't care what you think, I, Reinald, firmly support the King's decision. Once our army is strong and well-equipped, we'll burn Mecca, storm Cairo, overthrow Saladin's throne, and destroy all those images of God and prophets! The knights of Transjordan are willing to be the vanguard!"
The entire room was stunned. Although they had long heard that Reinald was a madman, witnessing his fanaticism so openly still left the nobles speechless for a moment.
Baldwin coughed lightly, gesturing for Reynald to sit down. "While the Duke's words are radical, preparing for war is indeed a matter of utmost urgency." He nodded slightly to Balian. Balian understood, quickly walked out of the hall, and returned with a strangely shaped crossbow—one that no one but Raymond and Roger had ever seen before.
Servants carried out a dummy clad in Saracen armor from the inner chamber—a trophy from the battle against Saladin two years prior. They placed the dummy in the courtyard. Balian stood about 350 paces from the dummy, and under the curious gazes of the crowd, raised his crossbow, aimed, and fired. Before the echo of the bowstring had faded, the bolt had pierced the dummy's iron helmet with pinpoint accuracy.
"This crossbow originally had its own name, but I didn't like it." Baldwin looked at the shocked nobles with satisfaction and said casually, "I gave it a new name—the Finger of God."
Reinald was the first to react. He disregarded etiquette, rushed out of the hall to examine the dummy's wounds closely, then rushed back to snatch the crossbow from Balian's hand and held it high as if it were a sacred relic.
"Finger of God, what a beautiful name!" His voice trembled with excitement. "May all heretics be purified by the Finger of God!"
Baldwin shook his head helplessly and continued, "These new crossbows have already been equipped by the garrisons of Jerusalem and Knightsburg. As you can see, their power is enough to change the course of the battle. If you wish to strengthen your city's defenses and upgrade your military equipment, the royal family can provide craftsmen's guidance, but you will need to bear the costs of procurement and manufacturing yourself."
While the nobles were still processing this series of news, Baldwin slowly rose to his feet. This simple movement left him slightly out of breath, but he forced himself to stand upright.
"There is one last thing I must tell you all." His voice suddenly became extremely heavy, each word seeming to be squeezed from the depths of his chest, "My condition... has deteriorated drastically recently. I'm afraid my days are numbered."
The hall fell silent instantly; even the crackling of the candlelight could be heard clearly.
"For the stability of the kingdom," Baldwin continued, his voice resolute and unwavering, "I hereby declare that my brother Lyon is to be crown prince. If I am called by the Lord, he will inherit the throne of Jerusalem."
These words struck like a thunderbolt. Guy's wine glass clattered onto the silver tray, splashing crimson liquid all over him, yet he seemed oblivious. Gerald's face darkened, his brow furrowed, lost in thought. The other nobles exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes a mixture of shock and confusion. Only Earl Raymond seemed to have anticipated this, calmly sipping his wine.
Reinald burst into a loud laugh: "Good! I'm the first to support him!" He raised his glass, his gruff voice echoing throughout the hall: "The Grand Marshal of the Kingdom of Jerusalem is ready to serve Your Highness!"
This sudden statement silenced the nobles who had initially wanted to oppose it. Reinald's military prowess and madness were well-known, and his unequivocal support made the already complex situation even more delicate.
Lyon stared blankly at everything unfolding before him, then looked up at the masked figure on the throne, whose expression was obscured. Amidst the thoughtful gazes of the nobles filling the hall, he understood that from this moment on, his life would be completely transformed.