1182, The Kingdom of Jerusalem
Don’t imagine Guy as anything but the silent faithful. TheSecond Crusade took his father and the church forced Sir Roger of Gisborneamong the breathing dead. When it was Guy’s turn to take up the cross after histraumatizing return to his native France, ignorantly marrying Isabella off to asadistic wealthy young man for a pittance to pay for his training, horse, andsword, Guy stood to the back as the bishops proselytized and lectured theFrankish regiment over the good cause. Hang the good cause! Upon reachingJerusalem, dehydrated and demoralized to stand on a wall in the Palatium Regis,he laid eyes on the legendary Leper King who repelled Saladin at 16 and held Montgisard. Now knowing he will never see 30, Baldwin IV sat eloquently in a too soft chair wheezing softly behind his steel mask as his physician struggled to gently unwind the silk bandages from his arm. Sibylla stood behind holding abowl to receive the discarded material, suppressing the tremble in her lowerlip. She thanked God her brother lost all feeling in his extremities, hislesions were suppurating all over the carpets.
Exasperated, sweat stinging his eyes, the doctor whipped roundto Guy de Lusignan and shouted, “I need help! Do you know how many medics you put to the slaughter?!” Sibylla turned her eyes angrily at her husband and thebarons that stood around in their shiny undamaged armor useless and afraid. Thederided and ambitious Lusignan searched the null space between his ears for asolution (or a nearby scapegoat).
“I’ll do it.” Gisborne called down from the battlement.
“What is your name?” Sibylla asked.
Alighting the last step he dropped into a bow before theprincess. “Sir Guy of Gisborne, lady.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m Norman, born in Lyon.”
“And how do you know the treatment of the afflicted?” Thephysician questioned.
“My father was a recipient of God’s Gift in Egypt, my lord. Mysister and I never became ill.” Gisborne answered.
“Let him assist.” Baldwin said stoically, too fatigued to turnhis head. Lusignan signaled the guards to allow Guy through, and got to work.Requesting a bowl of water and soap, he took off his gloves with his teeth, Guyscrubbed his hands, dried them on a linen and gloved up again. He prepared themercury, ginger and lily salve with the doctor, as Sibylla laid out fresh silkstrips her Shia Saracen maid cut. Using wooden tongs, Guy sopped up the last ofthe blood and began to apply the paste.
After all was said and done, Baldwin was in bed wrapped securelyhaving exchanged his mask for a silk veil covering him from where his noseshould have been to his neck, wearing a clean white and sky blue tunic, goldJerusalem cross on the front.
Guy dropped his bloody gloves into the washbowl, “Burn them.” Heinstructed the maid.
“When did you arrive, Gisborne?” Baldwin asked Guy, stopping himfrom exiting the courtyard.
“Two years now, Excellency.”
“We are the same age, then. Bred for war in boyhood, destined todie young for a higher cause.”
“I have seen you lead during famine, Excellency.” Guy stood byBaldwin’s bed. “In what we call civilization, moldy bread is too good for thebeggars. You broke open the granaries the barons get as tribute.”
Baldwin mildly scoffed. “I’m surrounded by traitors with anincompetent for a regent. For all my mother’s power, the court put her away.The matter with Chatillon will destroy all in this land.”
“You are Jerusalem.” Guy affirmed him. “My sword is yours, OLight One.”
“And lighter each day I become.”
END
