Chapter 74: The Execution
A fair trial?
The knights exchanged glances. For committing such a grave cri, what could the "fairest" trial possibly be? Hanging that left the corpse intact? Or being stripped of their noble rank and demoted to slaves?
Several of Count Philip’s core confidants, envisioning their likely fate, turned deathly pale, their bodies trembling, large beads of sweat trickling down their temples. They didn’t know whether the Crown Prince had actually co to harm or not.
For them, it didn’t matter.
Because regardless of whether little Baldwin was dead or alive, they had committed dereliction of duty and possibly participated in the murder of the Crown Prince; this was already enough to send them to the gallows.
Count Philip, on the other hand, being a vassal of the German Emperor, could at most be stripped of his official rank and expelled from Jerusalem, as long as little Baldwin was alive.
Lothar picked up the list and slowly began to speak: "Rodel of Aachen, please step forward. Tonight, you were supposed to lead n to patrol the Midsumr Corridor, but you left only one sergeant there..."
"Mimir of Florence, tonight you were supposed to be on duty at Godfrey Tower..."
"Charlot of Artois..."
He announced their cris one by one, then said, "Step forward voluntarily. If you still possess even a shred of knightly honor, don’t make my soldiers drag you out from the crowd. That would strip you of your dignity. I assure you, my Axe Guards are opponents you cannot possibly contend with on foot."
Six knights whose nas were called looked ashen-faced, as if bereaved of their parents. So tried to argue. So pleaded desperately, recounting their past ritorious deeds. Others looked around, hoping their colleagues would speak up for them. But no one intended to resist.
Lothar showed no rcy, waving his hand. "Take them away. If you have anything to say, save it for the Inspector in prison."
Count Philip walked with a look of utter despair, his weapons confiscated, his hands weighed down by heavy shackles.
As he passed Lothar, he pleaded in a low voice, "Grand Master, I am willing to swear on the Holy Cross that I did not participate in treason against the Crown Prince. If you still consider yourself an honorable and upright knight, please clear my na. I guarantee I will never cause you trouble again in the future."
Lothar shook his head. "Oaths are sacred, but the oaths of those who do not hold oaths sacred are worthless."
Lothar pointed to the cross emblem on Count Philip’s chest. "Your oath upon joining the Royal Knights included a vow to obey justice and embrace virtue. Yet, your narrow-mindedness, disregarding the perilous situation of the Holy Land and plunging the Royal Knights into a crisis of division, has already violated this."
Count Philip opened his mouth, sowhat defiant. "Who would willingly cede their power and position to another? Baron Lothar, if it were you, what would you do?"
Lothar ignored him, waved his hand, and signaled Ryan to escort the man away. It was unlikely Count Philip was connected to the assassination plot, but among those who had instigated him against Lothar, there was definitely soone from the assassins’ side.
The remaining knights in attendance, watching their companions being taken away, felt a sense of sorrow for their own kind, and thus remained silent.
No one even took the initiative to salute Lothar. Many were filled with fear towards this newly arrived Grand Master. The mont he arrived, he had toppled the beloved Count Philip. Such thods were too terrifying, making them unwilling to obey, yet absolutely daring not to resist.
Lothar scanned the unfamiliar faces. "Gentlen, have you all forgotten how to salute your Grand Master?"
Only then did the knights and their squires one after another salute Lothar.
Lothar could see the terror on their faces. He said sternly, "Tonight, many among you were also not at your posts, and not during your scheduled leave. For this incident, I am willing to grant you forgiveness, but only this once."
Cold sweat imdiately broke out on so of their backs. "Th-thank you for your forgiveness."
Lothar nodded slightly, then left without looking back, leaving behind a flurry of hushed whispers.
The heavily armored Axe Guards escorted the criminals onto prison carts, then mounted the travel horses Lothar had assigned them, and the group galloped towards the royal palace. Using the mounted infantry thod greatly reduced the strain of their march.
After locking all the prisoners in jail and ordering them to be strictly guarded, Lothar went straight to the royal palace. Led by the King’s personal manservant, Lothar entered the private chamber. Incense still burned within. But he keenly slled the faint, pervasive scent of decay in the air. It seed that every ti Lothar saw Baldwin IV, his condition had worsened.
"Your Majesty, I have imprisoned all those derelict in their duty."
In the candlelight, Baldwin IV’s expression remained very calm, as if he were not at all enraged by the near-assassination of the Crown Prince. "How do you intend to deal with them?"
Lothar said calmly, "Apart from Count Philip, who will rely be stripped of his official rank and expelled from the Royal Knights, all others will be sentenced to hanging."
This was the cruelty of political struggle. Now that Lothar had the opportunity, he would not forgive his opponent and give Count Philip a chance to make a coback. This incident served to both rectify military discipline and purge another faction within the Knightly Order, greatly accelerating his control over the Royal Knights.
Baldwin IV nodded noncommittally, then asked, "Who do you think is the mastermind?"
"That would depend on who benefits most from His Highness the Crown Prince’s death."
Baldwin IV looked puzzled. "Are you suggesting Count Raymond?"
Count Raymond was the Regent. If both the King and the Crown Prince were to die consecutively, as the most powerful and prestigious man in the Holy Land, he would have the greatest chance of succeeding to the throne.
"I know him; he would not do such a thing. Compared to an empty royal title, he is already the King of Northern Jerusalem. He wouldn’t go to such unnecessary lengths."
Lothar nodded. "I also do not believe it is Count Raymond, nor even any Crusader noble."
"Saladin wouldn’t do such a thing either. I have a truce with him. He is a generous and rciful monarch, no less than the most upright Western knight." Baldwin IV’s tone was gentle. "Actually, I already have so suspicions."
Lothar asked tentatively, "England?"
Baldwin IV nodded, but said aloud, "No, it’s the Zoroastrians. It can only be the Zoroastrians. Perhaps people know Saladin wouldn’t do this, but his nephew, Sa’d al-Din, the Governor of Syria, is a ruthless character who would stop at nothing. He once sent n to massacre the garrison of Kaukab’s fort, who had slandered Saladin."
At this, they looked at each other and smiled.
This was politics.
Even if they both knew it couldn’t possibly have been done by people from the Ayyubid Kingdom, who had a deep-seated hatred for the Old Man of the Mountain, they still had to present a united story.
As for why England was ntioned, it was because if the Crown Prince were killed, Baldwin IV’s successor would very likely be designated by Richard the Lionheart, King of England. And Richard the Lionheart would likely arrive in the East with the English Crusade within a year.
According to established rules, the King of Jerusalem would be the commander of the Crusade, but this king Richard would clearly be unwilling to be subordinate to another’s command.
As for who exactly in the House of Plantagenet was responsible, and whether Richard the Lionheart himself was the instigator, that remained unknown.
***
The next morning, in Jerusalem’s Bishop’s Square, Hans held high the royal standard bestowed by His Majesty the King. He had been appointed by Lothar as the Standard-bearer of the Royal Knights—an honorary position, not an act of nepotism on Lothar’s part.
From the second floor of a small fortress, property belonging to the Royal Knights, wooden planks were pushed out one by one. Sergeants and servants, stripped of their surcoats and outerwear, were shoved forward. They stood on the trembling wooden planks, their bodies shaking involuntarily.
With the tolling of a bell, the Inspector stood to the side and began to loudly proclaim their sins to the onlookers.
Among them were the six knights Lothar had arrested the previous night, as well as their squires, and so servants who had accepted bribes to provide convenience for the assassins.
"Heavenly Father above, please forgive my sins..." So nervously whispered confessions and prayers. So, their legs trembling, incessantly begged and lanted that it was rely an unintentional mistake. So bade farewell to their wives and children, who stood weeping in the crowd. Others loudly appealed for help to Count Philip, who stood among the crowd, already stripped of his office and released.
Death reveals a hundred forms, too nurous to list them all.
As Ryan and others pulled white bags over their heads, they then withdrew the wooden planks. The criminals, now hanging from the ropes, so kicked their legs frantically, but most had their necks snapped in an instant, hanging limply in mid-air like lifeless, rotten sacks.
A chill ran down the backs of the onlooking knights and sergeants. They secretly glanced at Lothar, who stood on a distant high platform, watching this scene coldly, their hearts filled with terror.
This cruel, cold-blooded monster was so vastly different from the once-rciful Baron Godfrey.
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