Act XIII The Last Supper (Part 10)
ten
As Schumeer had predicted, Yakov found that there were indeed more and more “pilgrims” landing in Jaffa and Acre—most of them were respectable and noble, having learned the bad habit of arrogance and self-control from the Greeks, but also vaguely retaining the aftereffects of destitution and fear.
“The Latins who managed to board the ship and escape here must have been powerful and influential in Constantinople,” Schumacher explained to Yakov when discussing the new tax law. “Look at them, most of them are diplomats, wealthy merchants, and nobles from past marriages. Commoners had to spend their entire fortunes to attach themselves to them in order to get a ticket to save their lives. But the Greeks didn’t think that way. They treated everyone equally based on bloodline, as if it were only Italian leatherworkers and Frankish textile workers robbing them of their livelihoods, rather than counts and governors who had signed tax exemption agreements encroaching on their rights.”
“I thought you only hated the Roman emperor,” Yakov said, looking at him with considerable admiration. “I didn’t expect you to denigrate the Doge of Venice as well.”
Schumer gave an awkward smile, whether out of shyness or something else, was unclear. "Judith and I suffered just as much in Venice." He handed Yakov a thick stack of official documents, a string of wax seals hanging on them swaying precariously. "Let me squeeze every last penny out of them."
Yakov smiled approvingly, then handed the document back to Daoud, instructing him to notify the soldiers to guard the city gates according to the assigned shifts and to screen the "pilgrims" one by one. Just then, Nuk ran up to the two. "Lord Jubius is ready," he said with a grin, his dark face beaming. "He's just waiting for you to set off with him!"
“Go.” Schumeer waved his wide sleeves.
"If there's something you can't solve, send someone to deliver a message." Yakov put on his iron hat and covered his mouth and nose with a headscarf.
“I know,” Schumeer nodded. “Be careful when you see Ambicia.”
The sound of camel bells outside the window urged Yakov to leave. "Then we're going to Jerusalem." He picked up the ruby-inlaid longsword one last time, fastened it to his belt, and entrusted it to you.
Yubi cherished every opportunity to ride a camel. He carefully cast his gaze beyond the parasol, concealing his swaying veil. The golden cross shimmered and rippled in the heat, as magnificent as a mirage.
“It would be good if we could come to Jerusalem more often. We should buy a small house here.” As he dismounted, he held onto Yakov’s iron glove and pointed to the various camel caravans outside the city walls. “It’s not far from Lud, the market is bigger, there are more people, and there are more fun and interesting things to do.”
“Most of those people are like you, here to socialize, not to have fun.” Yakov took the large umbrella and held it over his head. “Or perhaps they’re on a pilgrimage from Constantinople.”
Yubi looked around and saw many flags flying across the dusty land—flags and crests were symbols of nobility. As Schumeer had known, many of them were indeed of Greek design, more ornate and elaborate. He searched for the color of purplish-blue, but to no avail; only a few looked somewhat familiar.
“Let’s go to David’s Tower first.” Yakov shielded his back, preventing him from leaving the umbrella. “Ambikia needs to go to the palace to see the king first, and we’ll have to wait a long time.”
Yubi nodded, about to walk into the gate of David. "Lord Yubius!" he suddenly heard someone call his name in Greek, but couldn't place the voice, so he turned around. Before he could find the source of the voice, Yakov abruptly grabbed his robe and pulled it behind him—the Blood Slaves hadn't done this in far too long, and Yubi felt a long-lost sense of familiarity and amusement. Why did he need Yakov protecting him like this anymore?
"Don't talk to him too much," his knight whispered a warning.
“Don’t worry…” Yubi said casually, but then he understood why Yakov was reacting this way. His gaze swept from behind the cloak with the red cross sewn on it outwards, finding a shiny bald head coming this way through the sand. Upon seeing the man, Yubi suddenly felt a sticky, disgusting sensation on his hands, as if something was stuck to them, and he had to hide them in his sleeves and turn away.
A Greek notary named Sycero Ikonomo ran out of the blazing sun into the shade of the city walls, sweating profusely as he smiled at Jubius's veil and gave a brief greeting to Yakov. "What a coincidence, Lord Jubius," he flattered, clasping his hands together. "I came on a pilgrimage with my family, and to meet you here is truly divine intervention!"
"What a coincidence." Yubi nodded perfunctorily. "How's your work in Constantinople going?"
He had expected this question to leave Cicero speechless with embarrassment. "Things are going well lately. Thanks to your and your elder sister's care, I've earned quite a bit of money." Cicero's smile widened. "I hope that one day I can help you two with even more difficult matters!"
He was a native Greek, Yubi thought, sizing him up. No wonder he hadn't been affected by the riots—or perhaps, like other Greeks, he had long coveted the position vacated by the Latin notary. "May you prosper," Yubi said briefly, walking slowly into the city. "When are you going back to Constantinople, and how long do you plan to stay in the Holy Land?"
“That depends on the situation. As you know, Constantinople is not very peaceful right now…” Cicero followed closely behind him. “My daughter has just gotten married. I shouldn’t let her see bloody battles and have worries about her. This pilgrimage is also a way of taking her on her honeymoon.”
"I see. I'm out of the loop and didn't prepare a gift, so I can only give some gold and silver." Yubi beckoned Nuk over, "May I ask who your son-in-law is? Do I know him?"
Cicero thanked him with a grin and accepted the money bags. They entered the bustling city of Jerusalem, weaving through the crowds. The sounds of camels, horses, donkeys, cattle, and sheep rose and fell, accompanied by the cacophony of music and voices. “She married into a fairly noble family, one you know!” Cicero shouted to Yubi, half boasting and half reminding him, making sure he heard him. “They’re right by the Patriarch’s Pool, just ahead!”
Yubi suddenly heard Yakov click his tongue in utter disgust. He quickly realized it was because the knight was taller and had a wider field of vision than him in the crowd—Yubi stopped abruptly when he saw the figure by Patriarch's Pool, his mouth agape in surprise beneath his veil, a mix of emotions swirling within him.
Cicero's daughter was far less despicable than her father; she was a lovely, gentle Greek girl. She was gracefully and politely curtsying to the lord of Rud, her face veiled. Beside her stood her handsome groom, whose bright blond hair shone so brightly in the sunlight that even a vampire under an umbrella could hardly open his eyes. Upon seeing Yubi and Yakov, he froze, his face a brilliant mixture of humiliation and arrogance.
"...Long time no see, Lord Jubius." The blond groom finally nodded coldly to him, his smile hiding sarcasm. "When you have time, please tell me the whereabouts of my sister."
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