Just as Arn had hoped, Roger des Moulins seized the opportunity to have a serious discussion with Arn as they ate the lamb and vegetables and drank the wine. At the same time, they looked as though they were having the most innocent conversation, as befitted a banquet table.
Roger des Moulins pointed to the royal seats beneath Saladin’s captured flags at the long table and said bluntly that there sat the men, and especially the women, who bore the blame for the downfall of the Holy Land. As a sign that he was right, just then the patriarch Heraclius staggered up from his seat. With his wine glass sloshing, he babbled cheerfully as he moved to the king’s empty seat and plopped down there unabashed, right next to his former lover Agnes de Courtenay.
The two high brothers exchanged a knowing glance of distaste. After that Arn immediately took up Roger des Moulins’ ideas about a rapprochement between them. For his part, he thought that the two spiritual orders of knights would be forced to assume increasing responsibility for the Holy Land, since things were in such disarray at the royal court. This meant they would have to see to putting aside everything that was less important, including any minor disputes between the orders.
Roger des Moulins agreed to this at once. He went even further by proposing that they should call a meeting of the highest brothers of the Hospitallers and Templars. When they agreed on this decisive step, Arn put to him a furtive question about Arnoldo de Torroja’s untimely death in Verona.
Roger des Moulins seemed surprised by the sudden shift in topic; at first he hesitated to speak and gave Arn a long, searching look. Then he said straight out that he and Arnoldo had been in agreement about most things concerning the future of the Holy Land, which they had discussed during that journey, including putting aside old disputes. But Heraclius had continually interrupted them with the most childish comments, claiming that anyone who hesitated to annihilate all the Saracens was a coward. And even worse, the ungodly whoremonger had actually had the nerve to say that Roger des Moulins and Arnoldo de Torroja were both standing in the way of God’s will. And he hoped that they as traitors and blasphemers might soon depart this world.
Since Arnoldo de Torroja did indeed leave this world shortly thereafter, and in a manner that hardly indicated God’s will, Roger des Moulins from then on had been very circumspect about what he ate and drank in the presence of the arch-sinner Heraclius. He had his own suspicions. So he now asked Arn whether he knew anything that might cast some light on these suspicions.
A vow of silence had been imposed on Arn directly from the Holy Father, but he found a way to reply without actually answering.
“My lips are sealed,” he said.
Roger des Moulins nodded and had no more questions.
The next day all the guests were gathered again in the same knights’ hall, some quite red-eyed and foul-smelling after the long night of drinking. They were there to hear King Baldwin IV’s last wishes.
They all rose in the hall when the king was carried in inside a small covered litter that seemed big enough only for a child. The king had by now lost both arms and legs and was completely blind.
The litter with the king was placed on the huge throne that had been carried into the hall before him, and next to him was placed the royal crown.
The king began to speak in a faint voice, presumably mostly to show that he could still talk and had use of all his faculties. But soon one of the court scribes stepped forward to read aloud what the king wanted to say and what he had already composed in writing and affixed with the royal seal.
“The successor to the throne will henceforth be the king’s sister Sibylla’s son Baldwin,” began the scribe.
“As he is only seven years old at present, Count Raymond of Tripoli is hereby appointed as regent for the Holy Land, until the boy comes of age in his tenth year. As modest thanks for Count Raymond’s services as regent, the city of Beirut will be incorporated into his County of Tripoli.
“The boy, Prince Regent Baldwin, will be raised and cared for until the day of his coming of age by the king’s uncle, Joscelyn de Courtenay. If the crown prince should die before he reaches the age of ten, a new successor will be appointed jointly by the Holy Father in Rome, the Emperor of the Holy German-Roman Empire, the King of France, and the King of England.
“In such a case, until such date as a new successor should be appointed by these four, Raymond of Tripoli would continue to act as regent in the Holy Land.
“In particular it is decreed that Guy de Lusignan under no circumstances should ever become either regent or successor to the throne.”
The king now demanded of all that they step forward and before God swear an oath to comply with this last royal decree.
Everyone in the hall took this oath with a light heart and without any sign of displeasure. Count Raymond himself swore this oath, as did his good friend Prince Bohemund of Antioch; Roger des Moulins swore on behalf of all the Hospitallers, while Arn de Gothia swore on behalf of all the Templars.
Some of the others, such as the patriarch Heraclius, the king’s mother Agnes de Courtenay, her lover Amalrik de Lusignan, and the king’s uncle Joscelyn de Courtenay, made less of a show about taking the oath. But at last all had sworn before God to obey King Baldwin IV’s last wishes. For the last time the small litter with the king’s stunted body and the flickering flame of his life was carried out of their sight. As most people in the hall surmised with a good deal of dejection and tears, they would not encounter their brave little king again until his funeral in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.
The guests now made their way out of the Templars’ great hall amidst a swelling murmur of voices. All of a sudden Raymond strode over to Arn and, to the amazement of everyone around, pressed his hand heartily and requested hospitality for the night for himself and also for others whom he intended to summon. Arn immediately agreed to his request and said that all Count Raymond’s friends would be received as his own.
Thus it was that two quite different groups gathered that evening in Jerusalem to discuss far into the night the situation that had now arisen. The mood was gloomy in the king’s palace. Agnes de Courtenay at first had been so incensed that she could hardly speak, and the patriarch Heraclius paced the rooms, bellowing like an enraged bull though claiming divine despair.
The mood was considerably more optimistic in the rooms belonging to Jerusalem’s Master. Count Raymond had summoned the Hospitallers’ Grand Master Roger des Moulins, Prince Bohemund of Antioch, and the d’Ibelin brothers. Without Count Raymond having to ask, Arn saw to it that a good quantity of wine was brought in for the new allies, now united by their oath to the king.
They were all agreed that this was a turning point. Here was a golden opportunity to save the Holy Land and to limit the power of Agnes de Courtenay, as well as the perpetrator of unmentionable sins, Heraclius, and their notorious criminal friend, Reynald de Châtillon. They all now sat in the royal palace gnashing their teeth along with Agnes de Courtenay’s brother, the incompetent military commander Joscelyn.
According to Count Raymond, much could be accomplished at once. First, he had to negotiate a new truce with Saladin, giving as justification the paltry winter rains, which would lead to poor harvests for both believers and unbelievers alike. And this time the plunderer Reynald de Châtillon could only acquiesce.
Looking ahead a bit, the king would undoubtedly soon be dead. But his sickly nephew and successor to the throne might not live long either, since he was clearly suffering from the aftereffects of the sinful life at court. Children who were born into such illnesses seldom lived to the age of ten, if they even survived their own birth.