xymnovel Chapter 96 It wasn't me who ruined you, it was Gerald who ruined you.
Chapter 96 It wasn't me who ruined you, it was Gerald who ruined you.
In early December of 1182 in the Julian calendar, the winter storms in the Mediterranean subsided, and the port of Jaffa was shrouded in a thin twilight.
It was winter, an unsuitable time for warfare, and Saladin's soldiers were also suffering from injuries and illnesses, so the war between the Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Ayyubids came to a temporary halt.
The Roman Empire also secured a brief peace with the Sultan of Rum, based on the victory at the port of Antalya and the capture of the eldest son of the Sultan of Rum.
According to the previous agreement between the two countries, now is the perfect time to hold the wedding.
Lyon arrived at Jaffa port ahead of the main force, standing on the dock watching the fleet that was about to escort Princess Isabella to Constantinople for her wedding, as they made their final resupply.
The salty sea breeze carried a chill, and he tightened his cloak. Accompanied by Jacob and Zahir, he walked toward the castle standing atop the sea cliff, the residence of Guy and Princess Sibylla in Jaffa.
Princess Sibyl was already waiting on the porch, a deep worry etched on her brow.
"Ever since his injury at the tournament, his temper has become increasingly unpredictable," she whispered to Lyon, her voice pleading. "Your Highness, please... for my sake, give him some face."
I don't know why, after Bohemond's banquet in Jerusalem, Princess Sibylla suddenly became like this... How should I put it, Leon still prefers her old, unruly self.
Lyon nodded and smiled, "Princess, you jest. I am merely visiting Sir Guy on behalf of the King. What I have to say to Sir Guy is exactly what the King would say, and I certainly will not offend him."
Sibylla nodded awkwardly, and was about to leave when he turned back and asked, "By the way, Your Highness, when will Princess Isabella's carriage arrive in Jaffa? I need to make preparations for her arrival."
"About half a day, I'll stay in Jaffa for one night and then head to Constantinople tomorrow morning."
After Lyon finished speaking, he walked into the porch, through a corridor with a tapestry of the coat of arms of the de Lucignan family, featuring blue and white stripes at the bottom and a red lion with a gold crown, and arrived at a room overlooking the harbor.
Accord and Zahir were waiting at the door, while Lyon stepped into the room alone.
Guy's room was filled with the mingled scents of herbs and blood. He leaned against the soft couch, the bandage on his left leg seeping dark red, his once flamboyant brows now etched with dejection and anxiety. Seeing Lyon enter, he forced a sarcastic smile.
"It seems the sea breeze blew His Highness the Crown Prince to my humble recuperation place." Guy's tone was laced with his usual sarcasm. He waved for his servants to leave. "Did His Highness come here specifically to laugh at me?"
Lyon ignored Guy's sarcasm. He picked up the earthenware pot on the table and poured a glass of deep red wine for Guy and himself, gently placing one of the glasses next to Guy.
"What are you saying, sir? I don't understand." Leon feigned surprise and said casually, "I am here on the orders of the king to visit a Jerusalem knight who shed blood for the kingdom."
Lyon's gaze swept over the bandages on Guy's leg: "What did the doctor say about this leg injury?"
Guy paused for a moment, seemingly surprised that Lyon would ask this first, and his tone softened slightly: "His bone is fractured, and he'll have to stay in bed for a month or two. He should be almost fully recovered by now, but I'm afraid he won't be able to be a knight charging into battle anymore."
"Sir, you shouldn't say such things. You fought for your lord and for God, so naturally you are blessed by God and the Virgin Mary." Lyon raised his glass and took a small sip. "When Saladin's Mamluk cavalry charged, they were like a storm in the desert. Three years ago, at the Battle of Jacob's Fortress, you were one of the hundreds of knights from Jerusalem who charged against the Mamluks, buying time for the kingdom's main force to be mobilized. Although the kingdom's main force ultimately failed to arrive in time to rescue Chatterley Fortress, His Majesty has always remembered your courage."
"Your Majesty actually knew?" Guy was slightly surprised, a hint of pride and regret flashing across his face. "In that battle, we were at a disadvantage and failed to take the heads of many heretics. We were only trying to buy time, but ultimately we failed to achieve our goal of delaying them..."
"Yes, Saladin's army always seems to be one step ahead of us. Their cavalry are as swift as the wind across the desert. Although our fortresses are strong, our long supply lines are like fragile blood vessels, unable to withstand sustained attacks. We are also far outnumbered by Saladin's forces, making it difficult for us to gain the upper hand in open battle."
Lyon remarked, "Sometimes I wonder if we can truly win this war by relying solely on strong walls and passive defense? Perhaps we need more skillful tactics, like what the King and his predecessors have always done—to have both the sharpness of a sword and the wisdom to manage the situation."
"Control? Situation? Wisdom?" Guy pondered Lyon's choice of words thoughtfully, then probed, "Could it be that Your Highness's visit to me is also part of your control? Does Your Highness wish for me to become... a pawn on your chessboard?"
Lyon did not answer directly. He walked to the window and looked with Guy at the forest of masts standing in the harbor.
"A magnificent fleet, isn't it? They will carry the future of the kingdom, sailing towards Constantinople." He paused, turned around, and looked calmly at Guy. "The kingdom has gained an external ally, but an internal ally is equally indispensable."
Guy was slightly moved, but remained indifferent: "I think Your Highness already has enough allies, and doesn't need another Guy of Lucignon."
"What kind of person does the Knights Templar think Grand Master Gerald is?"
"Is Your Highness planning to sow discord first?" Guy sneered. "Gerald and I have known each other for many years, and he is also an old friend of my brother. We are as close as brothers, and our relationship is unbreakable. Your Highness, please be mindful of your actions."
"Is that so?" Leon slowly pulled a scroll from his pocket, spread it out on the table, and laughed. "That's like brothers, that's unbreakable."
Guy casually glanced at the scrolls on the table, then his expression changed drastically: "Isn't this the property map and loan agreements that Gerald treasures, keeping them in his room for all his days? How did they end up in your hands?"
Guy's voice was hoarse with shock. He struggled to sit up straight, his gaze fixed on the slowly unfurling scroll.
The intricately detailed descriptions on it revealed the Knights Templar's vast holdings of real estate and loan contracts in Palestine and along the Syrian coast, properties he knew all too well. But what truly chilled him to the bone were the markings and annotations added in different colors of ink.
"How...how could this be..." Guy's words caught in his throat.
"Sir, why do you think Grand Master Gerald is so generous in supporting you?" Lyon lightly pointed to several small manors and olive groves circled on the map, originally belonging to a few minor nobles of the kingdom. "Look here, and here... This knight from Ashkelon, last year, couldn't repay his debts to the Order, and his mortgaged manor was forcibly seized. The knight himself reportedly died in a hunting accident. And the buyer is registered as a Damascus merchant, but the actual flow of funds..."
His finger traced another copy of the loan agreement, bearing Gerald's personal seal and an encrypted signature, next to which were the words "Agent of Sir Guy de Lucignan".