The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 140 Baldwin's Illness

Chapter 140 Baldwin's Illness (Part 3)

Seeing Lyon's awkward and solemn expression, Baldwin slowly asked, "Now, tell me your first command. Not a perfect plan, not a divinely granted prediction, but your command during the sandstorm..."

A decision that had to be made immediately amidst the noise, as soldiers began to panic.

Sweat beaded on Lyon's forehead. He found his mind completely blank.

"I have no idea."

"But you must know," Baldwin's voice suddenly turned stern, "because one day, when your brilliant plans no longer work, when Saladin learns to guard against your intuition, when the enemy doesn't play by your expected rules, you will have to stand on the real battlefield, facing real swords with real flesh and blood. And then, every breath you hesitate will be paid for with the lives of your soldiers."

Lyon felt cold sweat soaking his back.

Baldwin was right. All his victories were built on his foresight of history and unconventional methods. But history has been altered, and the future is uncertain. What will he do when the unknown battles arrive?

"I'm sorry—brother," Leon whispered. "I—was blinded by victory."

A long silence fell over the room, with only Baldwin's labored breathing echoing in the air.

"Come closer, Lyon."

Lyon moved forward until he could clearly see every trace of illness on Baldwin's face.

“Listen,” Baldwin said, his hand groping for Leon’s shoulder and gently pressing it. “I’ll teach you. While I’m still lucid, while I still have time.”

"The Battle of Montgisza, I've mentioned it to you before. I won not because of some so-called talent, nor intuition, but because of calculation," Baldwin said. "I calculated the thickness of their formation, the angle of the sun, and the limits of their horses' stamina. They had come from Cairo on a long march, and although they outnumbered us, their horses were exhausted. Meanwhile, we had avoided battle at Ashkelon, allowing our horses and riders to conserve their energy. I launched my charge in the afternoon, when they were at their most fatigued and slowest to react."

"The Kingdom of Jerusalem was always besieged. Every campaign we launched required consideration of water sources, supply lines, and retreat routes. Saladin knew this, so he never sought a decisive battle, but instead constantly harassed us, keeping us on the run," Baldwin said. "I'm glad you realized this from the beginning, thus cooperating with Robert and the Sicilian grain merchants, and even—creating plows that improved farming efficiency."

"But that's not enough. Every attack and defense you make must be based on adequate supplies. You must maintain a good balance between strategy, tactics, and supplies."

"Knights fight for honor, mercenaries fight for money, and peasant conscripts fight for survival," Baldwin said. "Commanders must know how to motivate each type of person, but more importantly, they must know their limits."

"Knights can fight to the last man in a siege, but only if you don't make them feel like they're being wasted on worthless sacrifices. Mercenaries will fight to the appointed time, but if you ask them to go beyond that, you must pay them extra, preferably in advance. Conscripts are the most complex; they are fearful and prone to rout, but if you can convince them that they are defending their homeland, they can unleash amazing resilience."

"On the battlefield, fear is contagious. One person fleeing can inspire ten, and ten can inspire a hundred. But courage is also contagious. The heroic charge of one knight can inspire the entire front. Therefore, commanders must be present where they are most needed—not in the safest place, but at the critical point where morale may collapse."

Baldwin's explanation was frequently interrupted by intense pain.

"Remember, Lyon," Baldwin said after a final, long pause, "war is ultimately about endurance. Whoever can think longer in pain, whoever can remain calm longer in chaos, whoever can hold on longer in despair, will win. I have—learned how to think in pain, and one day you will have to learn it too."

He tried to smile, but his contorted facial muscles only produced a horrifying grotesque expression.

"Now, tell me about the victory celebration banquet, every single detail."

Lyon began to recount everything that had happened in Beirut, such as Raymond's command of the naval battle, how Jacob shocked the entire audience with a hymn, the power struggles within the Knights Templar, and the performances of the various lords.

He carefully omitted a lot of his own scenes, but Baldwin still astutely grasped the key points.

"You had Joslin lie about an empty treasury to delay Gerald's ransom. Clever," Baldwin commented. "But if Saladin executes Gerald because of this, the Templars will demand retaliation, potentially leading to a full-scale war. Have you calculated that risk?"

Lyon scratched his head: "But Saladin is not supposed to execute prisoners of value. He will demand a higher ransom, and that will take time to negotiate."

"You know Saladin very well," Baldwin said thoughtfully. "Too much, for someone who has never even met him."

Lyon lowered his head awkwardly, choosing to remain silent.

Baldwin didn't press further, but simply nodded, as if he had confirmed something in his heart.

"Your uncle has become the acting Grand Master—that's an interesting situation. The Komnen bloodline now leads the most powerful military order in the Latin Kingdom." Baldwin let out a barely audible chuckle. "What would Father think if he were alive?"

He turned toward Lyon, his almost blind eyes seemingly trying to make out Lyon's face.

"Be prepared, Lyon. Soon, all the responsibility will fall on your shoulders. The nobles support you now because of your success and my authority. When I—when I am no longer on the throne, their loyalty will be tested."

Baldwin suddenly gripped Leon's wrist tightly with astonishing force.

"Promise me two things. First, never take chances, never be arrogant, and never think you can control others."

Second, don't rely on assassins. Assassins are venomous snakes, and even the most loyal one is still a venomous snake. Don't use a snake's venom as your weapon; you must forge your own weapon so it won't turn against you.

"I promise, brother."

Baldwin released his grip and collapsed onto the bed, as if his last bit of strength had been exhausted.

"Let's go now. Let the doctors in. I—I need treatment."

Lyon stood up and looked down at Baldwin.

In the dim light, Baldwin no longer resembled a king, or even a complete human being.

He was merely a body consumed by disease, sustaining his life and throne through sheer willpower.

But it was this will that instilled in Lyon an unprecedented sense of awe.

Goodbye, brother.

Goodbye, Lyon. See you tomorrow.