Chapter 149: Chapter 149: The Audience in Palermo
Two Weeks Later — March 7, 1181
The voyage across the Mediterranean had been smooth, blessed by favorable winds and guarded by the Kingdom of Jerusalem’s fleet, but the true test awaited them now on Sicilian soil. The vibrant city of Palermo glittered under the late winter sun as Balian of Ibelin and Brother Gerard stepped onto the bustling quay, their boots echoing against the worn stone.
The city was a jewel of the Mediterranean — a confluence of Norman, Byzantine, Arab, and Latin influences. Merchants called out in a dozen tongues, markets overflowed with spices and silks, and towering palaces loomed amidst mosques and churches alike. Yet despite its liveliness, the gravity of their mission pressed down on Balian’s shoulders.
"Remember," Gerard murmured as they made their way through the narrow streets toward the royal palace, "discretion and patience. We carry the hopes of Jerusalem."
Balian nodded, clutching the letter from Baldwin in his satchel, the parchment sealed with wax stamped with the Lion of Jerusalem.
Upon reaching the imposing Norman palace, their request for audience was met with protocol. A steward eyed them with suspicion.
"State your names and titles," he demanded, folding his arms.
Balian stepped forward, bowing slightly. "I am Balian of Ibelin, envoy and lord of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. This is Brother Gerard of the Hospitalers."
The steward’s eyes flicked over their garments and the seal on their satchel. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Wait here."
Minutes later, they were escorted through vaulted corridors and grand halls rich with mosaics and tapestries. Guards flanked their passage until at last they were ushered into a spacious chamber where King William II held court. The young monarch sat atop a gilded throne, his dark hair framing a youthful yet regal face. His eyes, sharp and curious, settled on them with clear interest.
"Envoys from Jerusalem," William said, voice calm but commanding. "State your business."
Balian bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, I bring a letter from King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem. He entrusts me and Brother Gerard with a matter of utmost importance, to be discussed in strictest confidence."
Balian handed the sealed letter to a court official, who presented it to William. The king broke the seal, scanning the parchment quickly. His expression darkened with intrigue.
"Only my closest advisors shall remain," William commanded. Courtiers and nobles shifted uncomfortably as attendants hurried to clear the chamber, leaving a handful of trusted counselors by the king’s side.
William fixed his gaze on Balian. "Speak, then. What weighty matter compels King Baldwin to send envoys such as yourselves?"
Balian cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, King Baldwin has come to a decision after long and careful consideration. Though he bears the burden of a grievous illness, he has resolved to take a wife and endeavor to father an heir for the Kingdom of Jerusalem."
The words hung heavy in the air. Several advisors exchanged shocked glances.
"It is known throughout Christendom that King Baldwin suffers from leprosy," one noble whispered, voice tinged with disbelief. "How can he contemplate marriage?"
Brother Gerard stepped forward, his tone firm and deliberate.
"Your Majesty, if I may," Gerard said, unrolling a series of parchment scrolls on a nearby table. "I have had the honor to serve King Baldwin in the care and treatment of his condition. The understanding of leprosy has evolved significantly in recent years. Contrary to the fearsome reputation it holds, leprosy is not easily transmitted by touch or shared life."
He traced lines on the scrolls showing charts and testimonies. "These documents detail cases of patients in similar stages of illness who have married and fathered children without transmission of the disease to their spouses or offspring."
William’s eyes narrowed as he studied the texts. "How is this possible?"
Gerard replied, "Strict hygiene, medical treatment, and isolation of active lesions prevent contagion. The use of early penicillin a new medicine that was discovered and wound care protocols greatly reduce the risk. King Baldwin’s condition, though severe, is managed with the utmost care. We are confident that, with the right precautions, marriage can be safe."
The king leaned back, absorbing the information. "And what stake has Sicily in this matter?"
Balian answered carefully. "This marriage is not merely a personal matter for King Baldwin. It is a strategic alliance. We propose the betrothal of Your Majesty’s aunt, Constance, to King Baldwin. The union would bind our kingdoms, strengthening our defenses against common foes and expanding trade and mutual support."
He paused, eyes steady on William’s face. "Sicily’s fleet has already proven a boon to Jerusalem’s campaigns. An alliance through marriage would formalize and deepen this relationship."
William’s advisors murmured among themselves, weighing the implications. The room felt taut with the tension of great decisions.
Balian took a deep breath and spoke plainly, "King Baldwin is a warrior and a ruler who carries the weight of his people’s survival. He is a man of vision, seeking not only to secure his throne but to ensure the Kingdom of Jerusalem endures through generations. A queen by his side would bring strength, unity, and hope."
William’s gaze lingered on Balian, then shifted to Brother Gerard and back.
"This proposal... it is bold. It is fraught with uncertainties and risks."
Gerard nodded. "Indeed, Your Majesty. But with careful management, it is a chance to secure the future, not just of Jerusalem, but of Christendom in the East."
The king’s voice softened. "I will consider this matter deeply. For now, your presence here is a great trust placed by King Baldwin, and your counsel will be heard."
Balian inclined his head. "We are honored to serve the interests of both our kingdoms."
As the audience concluded, the weight of the task ahead settled heavily on Balian’s shoulders. The proposal had been made, the first step taken. The future of Jerusalem—and the fragile alliance between distant courts—now depended on the next decisions made in this sunlit palace overlooking the Mediterranean.
Outside, as they walked back through the courtyard, Balian whispered to Gerard, "Whether King William accepts or not, Baldwin has taken a great step. It is not just politics. It is a hope for his legacy. A hope that he will not be alone."
Gerard nodded. "And a hope that the Kingdom of Jerusalem will endure long after the leper king has passed."