CHAPTER 57 - 57: LETTERS ACROSS THE SEA

Date: April 30th, 1179 – Jerusalem

The high windows of the royal audience chamber filtered the light through colored glass, casting gentle hues of crimson and blue onto the polished stone floor. It was warm for an April morning, but the room remained quiet and still, broken only by the scratch of quills and the rustle of parchment.

King Baldwin IV sat at a long table beneath a carved wooden crucifix, his silver mask reflecting the flicker of candlelight. Arrayed before him were scrolls, letters, and maps marked with red wax and pins—an evolving vision of war and diplomacy carefully taking form.

He leaned forward slightly as Ernoul, his scribe, dipped his quill and continued taking dictation. Two other men stood nearby: Reginald of Sidon, whose silvering hair and calculating mind made him invaluable in foreign affairs, and Balian of Ibelin, tall and stalwart in his quiet counsel.

"We must act before they answer," Baldwin said, his voice rasping but firm. "The momentum is ours, and it must never be allowed to stall."

"Rome is still deliberating," Balian said. "We've heard nothing yet from the curia. And even if they agree, assembling armies from across Europe will take months, perhaps more."

"Exactly," Baldwin said. "Which is why we must prepare the field before they march. If we wait for them to act, we lose initiative. If we shape the path ahead, they will follow it."

He turned toward Ernoul. "Begin a new letter. This one for His Majesty William II of Sicily."

Ernoul dipped his quill again, eyes attentive. Baldwin's masked face turned back to the map, focusing on the Mediterranean coastline.

"Write this:

To His Royal Majesty, William, by the Grace of God King of Sicily, Duke of Apulia and Prince of Capua,From Baldwin, by that same Grace, King of Jerusalem, Duke of Palestine, Shield of Christendom and Defender of the Holy Sepulchre,

May peace and divine favor rest upon your throne and your realm. I write to you not only as a fellow king and brother in Christ, but as one who stands at the gates of war and seeks your wisdom and strength in what lies ahead.

Our scouts report that the Saracen Sultan bleeds, his grip on Syria loosening, his emirs murmuring dissent. By God's will and with firm resolve, we intend not only to defend Jerusalem, but to carry the Cross to the enemy's heart. For this, the sea will matter as much as the sword.

I write to propose the outline of a most vital alliance—one that shall remain known only to you, myself, and those you deem worthy of its charge.

We ask permission that, should the need arise, armies of the Cross might gather in or depart from your ports—particularly Messina or Palermo—and that your realm might serve as a staging ground for those who cannot sail directly to Acre or Tyre.

Moreover, should our enemies muster against us from Egypt—as they surely will—we ask that your most formidable navy, which has long ruled the central sea, harass and raid the Egyptian coast. Burn their ports. Disrupt their convoys. Force them to divide their strength.

This need not be declared as part of a crusade—merely a defense of Christian commerce, or protection of your merchants. The Saracens are proud and foolish; they will see treachery everywhere and respond accordingly.

In exchange for such aid, I offer mutual recognition of lands and rights, and that no toll shall be levied against ships of your crown in our harbors, now or henceforth. Your realm shall have equal voice at the council table when the spoils of war are divided.

I write in utmost confidence. Let this remain between our courts until such time as the Cross marches. For only then shall our banners fly together in open cause.

May the Lord guide your wisdom and strengthen our cause."

Ernoul finished writing and looked up. "Shall I prepare a ciphered version as well?"

"Yes," Baldwin said. "One for open eyes, and another for his closest ministers. Deliver them both by trusted courier. Not a word of this reaches Acre or Tripoli."

Reginald of Sidon nodded in approval. "It is bold. And clever. William rules the seas between Italy and Africa. If his ships strike Egypt while we move on Syria, Saladin will be forced to divide or retreat."

"And his soldiers will have no safe ports," Balian added.

Baldwin stood slowly, leaning on the table for support. His legs trembled, but he masked it behind motion. "Let Saladin find no rest," he murmured. "Let him see fire on his coast and spears on his border. If he falls, let it be from a hundred cuts."

That Afternoon – The Council Chamber

The same advisors gathered again as plans continued. The war council had grown in frequency and precision. Wooden markers stood on a detailed map of the Levant, now cluttered with colored tabs denoting roads, rivers, watch posts, and fortresses—many new since the winter.

"The supply lines to Safed are more stable as well," said a young captain. "And the new grain stores in Nazareth are nearly filled."

"Good," Baldwin said. "We will need them soon."

"Shall we begin assembling the army already?" asked Balian. "Once Rome approves the call, it will take time for the Crusaders to arrive. But our own host can be ready sooner."

"No," Baldwin said. "Not yet. We train. We build. We watch. And we whisper in ears that no one sees. The fire must rise from within before we strike from without."

He looked to Reginald. "Begin writing to the heads of the merchant houses. If they wish to profit from the war, they must prepare ships and wagons. Spare no coin now, for what follows will enrich them a hundredfold."

That evening, Baldwin returned to his chambers. His strength waned as the day dimmed, but his mind remained clear. The maps remained lit on the table before him. Sicily. Rome. Syria. Egypt. Like pieces on a divine chessboard.

The king stood silently for some time, listening to the wind outside, thinking not of battles past—but of wars to come.