Act XI: The Promised Land (Part Two)
two
Before Yakov could even enter the Knights' branch, Sancho was already waiting for him at the door.
“I told you to find a few more men who can wield swords,” the Spanish knight slumped against a gatepost, his fingers fidgeting with his short, curly hair. “But you’ve been shouting about bringing a thousand Tartars…”
“They are all skilled riders and archers, well-trained, far superior to poor knights,” Yakov waved his hand, signaling a servant in a cotton robe outside to bring in several heavy chests. Behind the counter, a row of monks of varying heights and builds craned their necks, following their clumsy steps—Yakov opened each chest one by one under their watchful eyes—inside, countless gold coins gleamed temptingly. They were hard and cold, yet the sight of them nearly made everyone present drool.
“Forty thousand Byzantines, all newly minted Hyperion. No trimming, and the purity is sufficient.” Yakov crossed his arms and leaned against the pillar. “Exchange them all for promissory notes, and weigh them.”
Sancho frowned. "...Is this your Lord Jubius?"
Yakov nodded.
"Are these all?"
“That’s less than half,” Yakov said, pursing his lips in displeasure. “The other half was paid in advance to the Emperor for the Cuman mercenaries.”
"Where are you going to get it? Acre, Gaza, or Jerusalem?" Sancho rubbed the wrinkles between his temples, looking exasperated. "Where are you going to get so much money all at once!"
“Let the lord go to the villages and towns under the command of the knightly order and exchange them for taxes; there’s precedent for this.” A monk raised a handheld reading mirror, examining the account book in his hand. “Forty thousand gold coins, if spread over several years, can be exchanged for a tithe of taxes from the towns and villages under the knightly order. The longer the spread, the higher the interest rate, as long as the lord is willing…”
This Christian monk spoke like a Jewish merchant. Koyakov didn't care—he was used to the shrewd atmosphere within the Order. "No problem," he nodded again, saying only briefly.
Sancho nudged him on the shoulder. "How dare you make decisions for others? That's 40,000 Byzantines!" he muttered angrily. "Besides, your Lord Eubous needs to be present to process this. What are you doing here?"
“Anyway, you and I are going with him, and we are both knights of the Order.” Yakov pushed him away. “Just give me the promissory note, agreement, and all the paperwork. It’ll save you the trouble.”
His Spanish comrade wanted to retort, but couldn't come up with anything to hit the nail on the head. He just sighed, his round cheeks puffed up with anger, nestled in his curly beard. "...I heard the emperor wants you to provide your own ships to transport those mercenaries and horses," he asked tentatively. "Won't that cost another sum of money?"
"That's not a lot."
"And supplies on board? Food, fresh water, and weapons?"
“It’s a drop in the ocean compared to the emperor’s pay.” Yakov turned his head. “Are you envious?”
His comrade's eyes widened, and he cleared his throat several times in anger at these words. The simple Templar Knight puffed out his chest, the red cross on his breast displayed prominently before Yakov's eyes. "I had one when I was in Toledo, what do I have to envy?" Sancho looked away, rolling his eyes at the carvings on the roof beams. But he immediately leaned back and muttered, "Don't forget, it's all thanks to me that you started this spice business."
Yakov glanced at his guilty look and smiled knowingly.
“When we get to Akka, I’ll have Yubi send you a camel.” He patted Sancho on the back. “It’s not part of the donation to the Knights, it’s just for you.”
Sancho snorted with dissatisfaction, expressing his disdain—but the corners of his mouth were already turned up.
Blood Slave didn't order his servants to follow him. He returned to his villa in the Golden Horn, clutching a draft promissory note agreement, to have Schumer review it. Tomorrow was the day of departure. He rode his horse along the cobblestone streets of Constantinople, thinking that this might be the last time he gazed upon the magnificent pinkish-purple sunset, and a surge of emotion and ambition welled up within him. He thought, the sunsets in Egypt might not be more beautiful, but no matter how dilapidated and shabby, how impoverished and desolate, it would be their first place in the world that belonged solely to them, a brand new beginning—Yakov's heart pounded whenever he thought of this, his blood rushing through his body, leaving him refreshed and intoxicated, as if he had drunk strong liquor.
His horse stopped at the corner, glancing at the gate. As the fleet's departure date approached, the nobles who had lost money gradually accepted reality and stopped coming to collect their debts. But some greedy gamblers, addicted to gambling, suffered the consequences—Diophantus Philactus, the blond youth about the same age as Yupi, still stood guard at the gate. The man, once as radiant and handsome as the sun god, visibly decayed, no longer adorned with lavish clothes and jewels. Arrogance and haughtiness faded from his noble bearing, leaving only a pitiful, foolish beggar.
“Just return whatever you have…” As soon as he saw Yakov’s horse, he repeated the words he’d said countless times over the past few days, and approached. “My sister’s wedding is in jeopardy…”
“Our money also went to the Cumans and the Emperor.” Yakov was delighted to see the man in such a sorry state. He sat astride his horse, picking his ear as he entered. “Why didn’t you think of this when you invested? Why didn’t you leave yourself some room for maneuver?”
"You could mortgage this house to me!"
"This house does not belong to Lord Jubius; it is the property of Kanakakis."
"You still have so much real estate, and a port!"
“That’s not ours either.” Yakov told his servant to close the door. “Are you going to steal from the emperor’s relatives?”
"...You shameless, homosexual bastard!" Theophilus's furious shouts finally rang out behind Yakov. "You still have the sign of the cross on your body, yet you do such filthy things! Damn it, give me back my money! I'll tell everyone... I'll ruin your reputation!"
The Greeks did this no less than the sultans and caliphs, and you ignored it when you wanted to marry your sister to them? Yakov thought of the notary Siserohan's greasy face and that dirty picture book; these words went in and out of his ears. Just then, two peacocks ran into the wisteria garden, pecking at his feet.
"This thing didn't sell?" He casually called over a slave. "Give it to that kid by the door and tell him to get lost."
Two large, clumsy-looking birds chirped in the slave's arms before being tossed to the astonished blond youth. Yakov felt a wicked satisfaction, as if he'd finally vented his frustration. He strode away without looking back, his steps moving from the corridor to the drawing room—Yubi had already dismissed all the non-blood slaves and, following Schumeer's advice, had sold off the excessively valuable decorations in the room. The remaining necessities had been packed into boxes, making the floors and walls much tidier. Yakov took the candle from Naya and entered the dark, empty study.
On the wall where the icons and tapestries had been removed, now hung an enormous map of Egypt. Cities and ports were scattered across it like tempting, dazzling diamonds. Yubi looked back at him from the winding Nile, his cheeks flushed red in the candlelight, his expression one of embarrassed awkwardness—clearly he had overheard all the explicit remarks at the door.
“We actually still have money to pay him back…” Yubi awkwardly gripped the hem of her clothes.
“If you dare to return it to him, everyone will come knocking on your door demanding payment.” Yakov showed no embarrassment whatsoever; he calmly took out the agreement from his pocket and handed it to Nuk. “The matter concerning the Knights is settled.”
The boy ran skillfully to Schumacher's side and read it to him carefully—"Taxes from four villages over four years... If I were there, I could negotiate a better deal." Schumacher just clicked his tongue, "But the terms are already quite good, and the interest is sufficient."
“I have some news from the Great Library.” Yubi held up an exquisite gold cup and brought it close to them. “William Longsword is dead, but Princess Sibylla is pregnant with his child.”
“Dysentery can only last two months, that’s about it.” Yakov sat down in a chair, staring at the coast of the eastern Mediterranean on the map. “Now I only hope that the leper king will keep his promise and provide supplies to the army once they reach the Holy Land. You still have ten thousand gold coins in cash. But to feed an army of thousands, the money will be gone in the blink of an eye. The emperor can afford it, but we can’t.”
“He will definitely keep his word!” Yubi sat down opposite him. “I heard that the last expedition failed in the same way. Who wouldn’t learn from that experience?”
Yakov shifted his gaze from Egypt to Yubi's face, his eyes darting around. "How did you fail last time?" he asked nervously.
“Last time…King Amalric also promised to supply the Roman army.” Yubi’s cup stopped at his lips. “But his men didn’t calculate it properly, leaving the Roman army starving and eating palm leaves during the siege.”
Upon hearing this, Yakov lowered his head in distress and pinched his brow. "...We won't have a single penny left." After thinking for a long time, he could only sigh with this one sentence.
“Don’t worry so much.” Schumeer got up from behind his desk, walked along the wall to Yakov, and patted him on the shoulder. “People should learn from their mistakes, especially kings and emperors. The first time you make this mistake, the chances of it happening again are much smaller.”
“I dare not count on anyone,” Yakov sighed.
Schumeer offered him a few more words of comfort, discussing war and wealth, fiefdoms and taxes. Yubi sat in his chair, sipping blood from his cup while observing their serious expressions. The young vampire looked them over, then suddenly let out a gleeful chuckle, a wicked red drip from his lips.
"Look at you two!" He put down his cup, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, and said, "It's as if our study is a council chamber, as if you are a general and a prime minister, and as if I am the emperor!"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
