The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 129 The Victory Celebration in Beirut

Gilbert de Iral stood before the Templar seats, his figure as upright as a pine tree.

The old knights beside him had just been released, washed away their prisoner's humiliation, and put on clean white robes, but their brows still showed a mixture of weariness, shame, and relief.

"Your Highness Lyon!"

Gilbert clenched his left fist and pressed it to his chest, bowing deeply towards the head of the table. His voice trembled with emotion: "You personally reclaimed the lives and freedom of one hundred and thirty-seven knights. The Knights Templar now owe you an indebted debt. May Almighty God forever protect and guide your path!"

"May God forever protect Your Highness!"

The knights behind him rose in unison and bowed respectfully with their hands on their chests.

Lyon, seated at the head of the table, raised his glass amidst a multitude of gazes, each with its own distinct meaning.

He was still small in stature, sitting on a tall, carved wooden chair, his feet not even fully touching the ground, but his back was straight, and his blue eyes calmly met everyone's gaze.

Tsk tsk tsk, these people in the Middle Ages, they get all excited when religion is mentioned, he almost feels embarrassed not to actively participate.

"I listen and appreciate your devotion to God, your zeal for the kingdom, and your high regard for me, but this victory belongs to everyone who fought." His tone was full of respect. "Lord Gilbert, knights, you are the kingdom's strongest shield and sharpest sword. Your return is the kingdom's greatest blessing. I have only done my duty as crown prince."

After a brief silence, Lyon's words were followed by even more enthusiastic approval and cheers.

Just as the atmosphere reached its climax, a shared celebration of faith and victory, Jacob, sitting to the right of Lyon, suddenly put down the wine glass he had been silently toying with.

"I can't take it anymore, I'm about to burst!" Accord suddenly leaned close to Leon's ear and whispered urgently, "In this situation, it would be a shame not to have some fun!"

He straightened his priest's black robe and stood up in full view of everyone, his posture upright, like a solemn statue.

Accord cleared his throat, and the usual cynicism on his face miraculously vanished, replaced by a deep and serene piety.

He clasped his hands together in front of his chest, as if holding up an invisible sacred object, closed his eyes, and began to chant in clear and soothing Latin:

"God, we praise you; we acknowledge you as Lord."

Before the words were even finished, the hall fell completely silent; it was as if everyone held their breath.

The lords unconsciously made the sign of the cross on their chests and silently recited the familiar passages.

"The whole earth honors you as the eternal Father."

"All angels, all gods, and all powers praise you..."

His voice gradually rose in pitch:

"By defeating the sting of death, you have opened the gates of heaven for believers."

"You sit at the right hand of the Father, bathed in the glory of the Father."

"We believe that you will come again to judge the world."

Finally, Accord opened his eyes, his voice rising higher and higher, the tone melodious and varied, like he was singing:

"We praise you day and night, and we will sing your holy name from generation to generation, forever and ever."

"Lord, protect us from sin today."

"Lord, have mercy on us, have mercy on us."

"Lord, may your mercy come upon us, for we trust in you."

"Lord, I place my hope in you; may I never be put to shame!"

As the last syllable fell, the lingering sound seemed to still echo between the stone walls.

The hall fell into absolute silence, with only the crackling of the fire breaking out in the fireplace.

Immediately, Reinald was the first to shout in response, "Amen!"

"Amen!"

"Amen!"

Echoes of agreement rang out from all directions, and everyone's face radiated a sacred glow that transcended worldly victory.

Accord slowly sat down, feeling completely relaxed, and then secretly winked at Leon beside him.

Leon shook his head helplessly, but still gave his uncle a thumbs up.

Fine wine flowed, the aroma of roasted meat filled the air, and the atmosphere reached its peak after the chanting of hymns in the elegant pavilion, before plunging into a boisterous and boisterous atmosphere filled with the intoxication of wine.

The conversation circled back and forth, inevitably leading to that awkward name—Gerald.

Roger put down his glass, sighed deeply, and lamented, "Grand Commander Gerald...sigh..."

Although Roger and Gerald didn't have a particularly deep friendship, they were both Grand Masters of the Church's military order, so he couldn't help but feel a sense of shared sorrow.

The bustling hall quieted down a bit. Everyone knew that redeeming a Grand Master from Saladin would come at a hefty price.

"Race them! We must renounce them! How can the Grand Master of the Knights Templar fall into the hands of heretics!" Reinald shouted immediately, already dead drunk and utterly unrestrained. "Anyway, I know your Templar Order has plenty of money!"

His finger trembled as he pointed at Guy: "Oh...oh! Guy...Guy knows better than I do! Don't you think so...Guy..."

Guy, looking utterly embarrassed, desperately tried to signal with his eyes, then hissed in a low voice, "Reinald, you fucking shut up!"

Gilbert didn't seem to mind. He stood up, his face solemn, and slowly said, "The religious order has been spending a lot of money in recent years. It's not easy to maintain operations in both the East and the West. Fortresses everywhere urgently need repair, and replenishing troops is extremely expensive... In addition, many brothers have been called by the Lord in this battle, and their families will be provided for after their deaths..."

He paused, then lowered his voice even further: "To be honest, the Order is currently unable to independently bear the ransom befitting the Grand Master."

Lyon thought to himself: Of course! Gerald has embezzled most of the Order's dinar funds and they're currently lying dormant in Venice's "National Loanhouse," which is basically a bank. It would be strange if the Knights had any money to pay the ransom.

"If we don't have money, we'll raise it! If we can't raise enough, we'll borrow it!" Reinald was still drunk and slurring his words. "Are we just going to let the Grand Master of the Knights Templar stay in the heretic dungeon forever? Wouldn't that make us a laughingstock in the East!"

Seeing the somewhat awkward atmosphere, Earl Raymond spoke up at the opportune moment: "The kingdom has recently spent a great deal of money on building city walls and recruiting and upgrading soldiers in response to Saladin's offensive, and the national treasury is indeed not full. It is both reasonable and customary to be cautious about paying excessive ransoms for the prisoners."

A low murmur arose in the hall, then fell silent as the lords tentatively glanced at Jocelyn, the kingdom's treasurer.

Sensing the lords' gazes, Jocelyn paused slightly in his cutting of the steak.

As the finance minister, he knew all too well the kingdom's true financial situation.

His Highness Lyon's fiscal reforms have gradually spread from Acre, Tyre, and Jerusalem to the entire Galilee region and the County of Tripoli. Recent tax revenues have been extremely encouraging, in addition to the large sum of unexplained wealth His Highness inexplicably brought back from Venice...

If His Highness hadn't inexplicably spent several thousand dinars to support fully armored crossbowmen and mercenaries, the national treasury would have been overflowing with wealth long ago!

Therefore, it is not impossible to handle an emergency ransom, even if the amount is large; at least a portion can be covered.