Act X: The True Knight (Part 4)

Four

A hot bath made him drowsy. Yakov changed into a light, clean robe, let out a long, deep yawn, and tears welled in his eyes. "You haven't slept since this morning," Yubi said affectionately, snuggling against his arm and trying to climb onto his shoulder. "Want to sleep for a while?"

“No need. We have important business to discuss.” Yakov pressed his cold forehead and pushed him down. “Sit properly and don’t lean on people. What kind of behavior is that?”

Yubi was displeased by his words. He glanced at Schumeer sitting opposite him, and in a huff, grabbed an embroidered cushion and stuffed it into his arms.

“First of all, I still didn’t see any knights named Zashchtnikov at the headquarters of the Knights of the Holy Land. They were all Franks.” Yakov leaned back in his recliner. “But I did manage to look through the Knights’ register and found some. However, they were all registered in the northern branch, in Poland and the territory of the Holy Roman Empire.”

“Not surprising.” Schumeer lowered his head in thought. “The Slavs are closer to that.”

"Have you seen your sister's blood slave?" Yubi asked, her eyes darting around. "Or... your mother's, or your brother's? Someone with a mark on their chest?"

“I can’t know. I didn’t have the chance to strip everyone naked.” Yakov picked up his glass and took a sip of water to clear his head. “…Is there any wine?”

"Aren't Templars forbidden from drinking alcohol?" Schumeer chuckled.

“He only comes back once in a while, what’s wrong with wanting a drink!” Yubi called out to Naya, “Bring the best bottle of Grenache!”

Naya nodded silently, and the slave beside her immediately disappeared behind the candlelight—Yakov watched the people coldly. Yubi's household now had many more slaves than before, and he disliked these unfamiliar faces wandering around—fortunately, the one carrying the wine bottle this time was someone he knew.

“You haven’t grown much taller than last year.” Yakov took the bottle from Nuk’s arms and looked him up and down. “You’re almost an adult, aren’t you?”

"Thanks to you for letting me stay, sir." The Egyptian boy who used to tend the fire in the basement bowed his head, his face full of smiles.

"You don't have to boil hot water from the hot springs all the time anymore?" Yakov asked.

“I’m now in charge of the equipment storeroom here.” Nuk smiled and took the bottle back from Yakov’s hand, his manners impeccable. “I’ll take over, sir.”

Yakov felt a pang of sadness, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. Nuk set down a smooth, exquisite gold cup, its rim inlaid with pearls. Yakov watched as he skillfully pried open the cork with an iron hook, and before the liquid was even poured into the cup, an expensive, rich aroma wafted out.

"How much did this wine cost?" Yakov asked, frowning again. "Don't waste it."

“It would be a waste to give you this,” Yubi winked at him. “It was a gift from Sancho; you can’t buy it anywhere else.”

Yakov vaguely recalled his Spanish comrade mentioning the Garnacha vineyard, and decided to assume Yubi hadn't lied. When had they become acquainted? Yakov wondered to himself. The crimson wine in the golden glass shimmered, reflecting light like blood, like rubies, like Yubi's eyes—Yakov picked up the glass. He couldn't quite grasp the rich fruit aromas and delicate sweetness; he only wanted to find the alcohol he craved. "Don't rush! Why did you drink it all in one gulp!" Yubi grumbled beside him, "This wine is meant to be savored!"

“No wonder he said it was a waste.” Schumeer shook his head as well. “If you want to get drunk, why use such fine wine?”

Yakov set down his empty glass, gazing at the mirror-like inner surface. The alcohol made his blood rush, his body warm, and he felt much better. "...I have a decision to tell you," he said firmly.

"Starting next year, I will no longer travel back and forth as a merchant."

"Really?" Yubi flung the cushion away from her arms.

"What?" Schumer jumped up from his chair.

“Let me finish.” Yakov pushed Yubi away from his neck for the second time, then got up and pulled the blind Schumacher back to his seat. “I will tell you the reasons for my decision.”

“That’s not a funny joke at all.” Schumeer’s mouth moved rapidly beneath his mustache. “What will happen to our business if you don’t run trade routes?”

“Your business clearly doesn’t need the spices I brought back to make money,” Yakov retorted bluntly. “Aren’t you planning to buy up all the spices in the city and play that goose-selling game?”

“What you say isn’t wrong, but you won’t stop going to the Holy Land just because of this!” Schumer snorted angrily. “The more spices you bring back, the more bargaining chips we have!”

"...Could it be that you're refusing to go because you're angry about this?" Yubi looked at him worriedly. "I...I feel it's better if you stay by my side..."

“No.” Yakov gestured for Nuk, who was sitting at the table, to refill his glass with the fine wine. “I had already made up my mind before I even came back this time.”

Yubi and Schumacher both fell silent, waiting for his explanation.

“The Holy Land has been quite turbulent lately.” Yakov frowned as he examined the bright red wine. “Ever since that leprosy child became king, there has been constant turmoil in the city. It’s one thing for the rabble and Christians to quarrel, but the lords in the kingdom are also arguing over succession. A child, and seriously ill, can’t care about any of this. All he can think about is trying his best to prolong the peace treaty with the Saracens.”

“I know him. You mean Baldwin, the son of King Amalric.” Yubi frowned, just like Yakov. “You’re out of touch with the sea. Did you know that his sister Sibylla recently married William Longsword of Montferrath? Their descendants will be the next king, thus securing the succession and the defense of the Holy Land.”

Yakov stopped drinking, his glass hovering over his lips. He squinted, scrutinizing Yubi, observing the reliability in his master's expression as he recounted the news, the tattoo on his chest gleaming with pride. "Where did you learn all this?" he asked, glancing sideways. "You remember all these noblemen's names."

“Of course I have my own channels…” Yubi snorted and crossed her arms. “If you don’t remember these things, you can’t attend the salon party.”

“If you’re worried about the Holy Land being unstable, which is why you’re not going to trade, then this matter is settled, isn’t it?” Schumeer spread his hands across from him.

“I have something to teach you.” Yakov once again lavishly downed the full glass of wine in one gulp. “Nobles are certainly well-informed, but they are always blinded by appearances, assuming that things like marriage alliances can resolve disputes.” He then pushed the empty glass to Nuk. “That knight has been living in the Holy Land for over two years, and his marriage to the king’s sister is a done deal, yet no one seems to think the matter of succession is settled. How many more years can lepers live? How old will their children be then? Expecting a mere child to defeat Saladin is a pipe dream.”

"War is imminent. I'm certain of it."

Yubi and Schumacher fell silent again. After a long while, the vampire finally spoke. "Is Saladin really that powerful?" he asked, half curious and half fearful. "Have you seen him?"

Yakov chuckled. "Where have I seen him? I've only ever followed the Knights of the Order in killing some tax-evading scoundrels."

"You killed them!" Yubi exclaimed, her mouth agape. "You did something so dangerous!"

“Of course.” Yakov pointed to the cross-shaped cloak that had been taken off to the side. “I am a Templar Knight, and they are ‘heretics’.”

“Yet you do business with pagans and sail here with them.” Schumacher suddenly laughed. “Look at this house, Christians, Jews and bastards sleeping under one roof! That’s a miracle.”

“These kinds of houses are everywhere in the Holy Land,” Yakov said dismissively, raising his glass. “People coexist while killing each other.”

“So, you think that’s too dangerous, and the spice business with [redacted] can’t last long…” Yubi pursed her lips in thought. “Coming back here is quite good. If something happened to you so far away, and I wasn’t there…”

Schumacher's laughter stopped abruptly.

A strange, unsettling heaviness enveloped the hall. His head was spinning from the alcohol, his hands and feet burning; he simply poured the fine liquor down his throat to numb his thoughts. "I'm not a merchant, nor did I say I wanted to stay in Constantinople doing nothing," he said, his voice low and hoarse, yet he smiled with self-satisfaction.

"War, that's what I'm good at. It's time for us to exchange gold for armies, and then armies for territory."

"This requires a long period of preparation. When the time is right, the one who is fully prepared will prevail."

The room was unusually quiet, with wisps of smoke from the incense burning on the hot coals drifting in and swirling around the three of them. Yakov got up and picked up a small velvet box from the table next to Yubi—it contained the benzoin he had given to Yubi.

“I’ll stay here next spring,” Yakov said. “I’ll be in charge of hiring and commanding the troops, and Shumel will be in charge of supplies and pay. And you, Yubi, you’ll be in charge of the reasons for our deployment, and make sure no one steals our spoils. Do you understand?”

“Then I need to know where we’re going to fight.” Yubi frowned at him. “Where would that be our territory?”

“If you keep thinking about picking a good place to prepare, you’ll never finish.” Yakov opened the box and took out a crystal-clear, salt-like block of resin. A luxurious, pungent fragrance wafted onto his face. “Saladin is in Egypt. If war breaks out and the Christians win… perhaps you could find a bustling city on the banks of the Nile or the Mediterranean. Of course, that would be the best-case scenario.”

"Then I can see the pyramids and the Sphinx?" Yubi's eyes lit up. "I want to live closer to Rome! No, Alexandria would be even better..."

“Don’t be so optimistic right now!” Yakov scolded him, but the idyllic fantasy made him smile. “Maybe you’ll only be assigned to a vast desert, your people will be crammed into scattered oases to raise camels, and the wells in the city will dry up during the dry season.”

“There are endless gold mines in the Egyptian desert!” Schumacher said anxiously, wrapping his arms around his chest. “It doesn’t mean the desert is a bad place.”

The golden hues of the East made the air around the table feel warm and inviting. Yakov rose, opened the incense burner, and poked at the glowing embers with tweezers. "Put your ring on and try the benzoin. Saracens love it," he said with a smug, self-satisfied grin.

“…Yakov, I don’t want to try right now.” Yubi’s voice suddenly became softer. “Give it to Nuk and put it in the warehouse.”

“You just said you’d wait for Schumeer to come so we could enjoy it together, and he’s sitting right here.” Yakov picked up a resin grain from his palm with tweezers. “Aren’t you curious about what the Saracens like to taste like?”

"Then I won't wear that ring; you can just admire it..."

The blood slave put down the spices, slowly turning around, his previously smiling face now tinged with terrifying anger and confusion. His blue eyes swept over every slave and lady in the hall, down to the silent Schumer, and finally settled on Yubi. "Ever since I returned, I've felt you're hiding something from me," Yakov said, dropping the velvet box, the expensive resin shattering on the ground. "What is it?"

“Don’t be so angry with him, Yakov.” Schumer’s voice held a helpless smile. “Lord Jubius always has his own plans.”

Ignoring the flattering words, Yakov strode heavily to Yubi, his hands gripping the thin shoulders tightly. He felt a tightness in his chest, struggling to breathe, unsure whether it was the alcohol or the mark at work.

"Where is your ring?" the Blood Slave roared. His shadow enveloped his master.

“…I lent it to my sister.” Yubi looked up at him with her endearing red eyes, trying to sound brave. “My sister is pregnant!”