The Leper King
Chapter One: Jerusalem
"I...am Jerusalem."
Baldwin IV, The Leper King of Jerusalem
"Do you see her, Arella? The...Holy City...and there she is...right before us in all her glory!" Arella's father, Jordan, asked between several gasps of air as the portly man paused for breath, thinning brunette hair plastered to pale skin slick with a film of sweat, eyes rimmed red.
"Yes, I see her. Are you well, Father? Perhaps you should rest?" Arella suggested, her soft voice laden with worry as she lightly touched the man's thick arm. The woman winced upon feeling the unnatural heat that was produced from his touch, the man's shirt saturated with sweat.
"Rest?...No, no, my dear...I, I am fine. The caravans-"
"The caravans can wait, Father. Jerusalem is not going anywhere, either. Please, Father. Just rest for a moment." Arella ushered gently, the man looking down toward the parched ground before looking back up at his daughter, his brown eyes squinting upon her.
"Yes, I suppose you are...right. But just for a little while." Jordan replied, letting the fair woman gently lead him a few steps from the dirt road, their pack mule following them as its ears twitched.
"Are you well, Father?" Arella asked, Jordan grunting as he slowly lowered himself down to the ground to sit, his stomach bulging out slightly.
"Oh, Arella...do not worry about me, dear." Jordan replied, smiling despite the heat and his present fever.
"Do not worry? But Father, your health is the reason why we have come to Jerusalem." Arella stated, pulling out a small doeskin canteen as she unscrewed the top, taking a small sip as the warm water slipped past her cracked lips.
"God heals all ailments, Arella. You will not have to worry about me." Jordan reasoned, waving the canteen away as the blonde haired woman offered, yet the woman refused to retract her arm.
"You should drink more, dear. I will be fine." Jordan spoke, the woman frowning as she shook her head.
"This is for you. Father, you need it more than I. You need it to fend off the fever." Arella spoke, the man shaking his head.
"No, Arella. You need to be taken care of first." The man spoke, his gaze turning to several of the pilgrims they were traveling with as their companions walked passed, their footprints being left in the dried earth.
Jordan's mouth gaped slightly as the man then turned his gaze to the sky, the Arabic heat merciless as the deep blue of the cloudless sky reflected on his gaze. Even though the wind was silent, a lone vulture slowly circled the area in a large loop as it glided on the draft, its lone shadow casting on the far ground.
Sighing, Arella looked upon her father with a sudden wave of sadness, the woman kneeling down next to Jordan as she gently turned his gaze to look at her.
"Father..." Arella called, tears beginning to rim her eyes as the man looked upon her with recognition, as if suddenly noticing her.
"Arella? Why do you weep? Why does my little girl weep so?" Jordan asked, Arella shaking her head before looking at the man, her lips pierced together, as if thinking upon what to say.
"You...do not have to take care of me anymore, Father. Your daughter is all grown. Do not worry for me, for it is my turn to take care of you, as you have taken care of me my whole live. Now please, allow me to take care of you. Drink." Arella urged firmly, yet gently as Jordan looked upon her with guilt, his strained breathing in a rhythmic pattern.
"It is true. My beautiful butterfly is...now strong enough to fly. I am sorry...for all this trouble." Jordan apologized, Arella kissing his clammy brow as the canteen left her small hands.
"With love there is no trouble." Arella spoke, relieved as she saw the man take large gulps of water, the clear liquid flowing down his chin and onto his shirt. Jordan gasped, the flow stopping as he tried to shake the last drop out of the canteen, and upon finding none handed it back to Arella.
"I am sorry, dear." Jordan apologized.
"Do not worry. We can restock in Jerusalem. Are you well enough to walk?" Arella asked, screwing the cap back onto the canteen.
"Aye. I believe I am." Jordan replied, nodding as he struggled to get on his own feet, but found himself struggling for breath.
"Father! Oh, Father, calm down! Do not strain yourself!" Arella cried in worry, moving towards her father as the man began to hack a dry cough.
"Father! Father, are you alright?" Arella asked, her brow heavily creasing in worry as Jordan's coughing fit slowly subsided, the man breathless as he breathed in large gulps of air.
"It...feels as if the air...burns." Jordan commented, Arella kneeling by his side as she grabbed his much larger hand.
"Come! We must make haste to Jerusalem!" Arella cried, groaning as she struggled to pull the much larger man to his feet, Jordan getting on his own feet with some difficulty.
"Yes, I...fear I am getting worse." Jordan voiced, his steps heavy and dragging as he wheezed, Arella pulling the mule by its reins to follow.
The pair walked along with several of their fellow pilgrims, Arella looking off to the side to see a young Muslim man turn his gaze from her, as if embarrassed. Raising a slightly eyebrow, Arella guessed that the strange behavior was because she was not wearing a turban.
Approaching the city, Arella's eyes widened and her heartbeat quickened upon seeing the magnificent city towering over her with its strong walls and soldiers, whom allowed them entrance into the city. Looking around, Arella couldn't help but be amazed by the complexity of the city's irrigational system, several small and beautiful fountains lining the streets, providing water as several potted plants her carefully cared for. The chapel of the great church in the distance seemed to tower over the dwellings, perhaps only dwarfed by the castle in the heart of the city.
"Do you see her, Arella? Do you see Jerusalem's beauty?" Jordan asked, a smile on his face as Arella nodded.
"I do. She is beautiful." Arella stated, noticing that a number of the pilgrims never passed the gate, and instead were praying on the outside of the defensive walls. During their pilgrimage, Arella was stunned to see such strange animals that the Arabic people used as companions. They were called camels. Strange, long necked, two toed, humped creatures that could go on without water for days. She had tried to pet one on her travel to Jerusalem, and was startled when the creature spat in her face. Though the camels were alien, and seemed friendly, she learned to tread carefully with them. Others, however, chose to ride horses. Arella and Jordan chose a simple mule to carry their supplies. The mule carried everything they had.
The streets bustled with all forms of life as the occupants moved to and fro, many traveling with a basket of fresh fruit from the market district. The mule's ear twitched as saliva slowly dribbled down its chin, chewing on a cud.
"Father, why do you not go to the doctor? I shall tend to the mule, and afterwards I shall go the church and pray for you. I will not take long." Arella suggested before adding, "Or would you like me to accompany you?"
"Oh, Heavens, no! I am fine, dear. I can make it on my own." Jordan spoke, Arella's lips piercing together in a thin line, hesitant.
"Very well...if you are sure. Farewell, Father." Arella beckoned, kissing his warm cheek as the man returned the sign of affection. Arella looked at the man before smiling sadly.
"Yes, well...be safe. I will see my butterfly when I get back, yes?" Jordan asked, smiling sullenly, eyes tired.
"Butterflies always return home, Father." Arella whispered, her blue eyes beginning to sparkle as the man chuckled weakly, coughs beginning to erupt from his lungs. It took a few seconds for the coughs to subside, and Jordan saw the look of worry on the young woman's face.
"Do not look at me with such worry. You are becoming your mother."
"Mother was a good woman."
"That she was. Can you...pray for her when you go to the chapel, Arella?" Jordan asked, Arella nodding her head as she smiled.
"You shall be there to pray for her too."
"Yes, thank you. Take care, dear." Jordan called, smiling as he turned and moved slowly down the street, wiping the sweat from his brow and coughing occasionally.
"God, please watch over Father." Arella whispered, looking at the mule, its large brown eyes staring at her as its snout nuzzled her.
"No, no, Kafka. You cannot eat my hair." Arella called, the mule snorting as the human pulled away.
"Come, my friend. Let us get you to the stables." Arella mumbled, heading in the general direction. Upon finding the stables, Arella was shocked to find most of the stalls empty save for a camel inside one. Needless to say, the young woman chose the stall farthest from the camel.
Arella led Kafka into its stall, being careful to hide several of the family's most precious items as she closed the stall shut, filling a small bucket of water for the mule.
Hearing the sound of soft footsteps approaching, Arella raised her head, a brow raising in curiosity upon seeing the same young man from earlier.
"Greetings. I am Akeem." The young man greeted, almost timidly as he approached. Arella awaited for the man to continue, but upon hearing only silence opened her mouth to speak.
"Greetings. I am Arella." Arella introduced, the young man smiling shyly as he nodded.
"I...saw you with a sick man earlier today. I was going to ask if you needed any assistance with your mule, but I became fearful, and did not ask." Akeem admitted, Arella's mouth agape slightly in shock. Akeem flinched, and seem to shrink into himself.
"I am sorry if I offended you."
"N..no. No, do not be. I just...was not expecting that kindness from a stranger." Arella spoke, Akeem smiling gently at the woman.
"Whatever illness your friend has, I pray that Allah shall heal his sickness."
"That is very generous of you." Arella replied, smiling.
"Please, I am curious, but may I ask what religion you are?" Akeem asked, Arella pausing to answer as she briefly looked around, hesitant.
"I am...Messianic." Arella replied softly, as if ashamed.
"I understand. You wish to respect your old ways by keeping them, but adopt your Christian God as your Savior." Akeem stated, Arella nodding her head.
"You...don't seem like...the others." Arella replied slowly, fearful of the man taking offense only to have him clear his throat.
"I fear I must apologize to you and your people on my brothers' behalf. I understand that the Jewish have been prosecuted by both Christians and my people. Not all of us want bloodshed, and it should not take place in the Holy City. This is where we come for peace, and I would like it to remain that way." Akeem spoke, a light flush suddenly breaking over his tan skin.
"You are a wise man. Many men could learn from you." Arella commented, smiling gently.
"Oh, thank you, but I learn my teachings from Saladin."
"Saladin? I fear I do not know who that is." Arella replied, feeling stupid and embarrassed.
"Ak! You do not know who Saladin is? Salahhudin is a kind and generous king, and wants nothing but peace. But peace cannot be claimed while Jerusalem is under Christian rule."
"Saladin wants Jerusalem? But would not that start a war?"
"Saladin and your Christian King do not want war. Both want to settle this in a peaceful way, but when blood must be shed, they shall bleed." Akeem spoke, Arella shifted with unease and sudden anxiety.
"May I ask why you have come to Jerusalem?" Arella asked, wishing to change the subject, to which Akeem was swift to respond.
"I have come to pay homage to Allah. What is it that you have come to seek?"
"My father is ill, and we hope that with the grace of God he shall recover."
"I see. I pray for the health of you and your father."
"And I you. Will you go to the wall to pray?" Arella asked, the man shaking his head.
"No, no. I have already paid my homage. Are you going to the church?" Akeem asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.
"Yes, I am. I am going to pray for my father and mother."
"May I come along? I have not seen the church yet, but I have heard stories of its beauty that have brought men to tears." Akeem asked hesitantly, the woman pausing for a bit, debating.
"I suppose you could. At least I will not get lost alone." Arella replied, giggling gently as the man chuckled a bit awkwardly.
"Let us go to the church!" Arella cried, the pair walking to their destination that could be seen towering above the other buildings.
The church was dimly lit, several candles glowing softly with their flame as incense filled the church, a large golden cross at the altar, and behind that cross was a much larger one with Jesus nailed to the cross. It was as if it was built into the very stone.
"It is beautiful." Arella whispered, looking at the tapestries that lined the walls , several bouquets of flowers lined at the altar and floor at the base of the cross.
Akeem looked upon the cross in wonder, looking around as Arella kneeled at the altar and bowed her head in a deep prayer. Slowly beginning to walk through the aisles, Akeem paused as he saw a small cross on the ground. Bending over, the man picked the Christian symbol up, realizing it was a necklace upon closer study, and that the cross was encrusted by a number of small gems.
Smiling softly, Akeem gently set the cross on a small table nearby, as if afraid of breaking it. The young man remained silent, observing the beauty of the Christian church as he heard the Bishop's footfalls echo throughout the hall.
"Oh, quiet, darling. People are here." Akeem's head turned to a woman speaking, his eyes going wide upon seeing the Princess of Jerusalem, Sibylla, with a small boy by her side. Upon noticing their presence, the Bishop greeted the pair with respect.
"My lady! Welcome, welcome! How may I be of service?" The Bishop asked, the small, blonde haired boy looking at the Bishop with curiosity.
"My son, Baldwin, would like to pray to God." Sibylla spoke, the woman dressed in the finest silk as she wrapped a protective arm around the small boy.
"So the boy has a confession?" The man asked, Sibylla's eyes narrowing dangerously.
"A prayer is different than a confession." Sibylla growled, her voice supplying hidden venom as the Bishop cleared his throat.
"O-of course, my lady. My apologies. The King is not accompanying you?"
"I am." The Bishop turned his head to see a rather tall man emerge from the closing church doors as they slammed shut, dressed in all white with embroidered gold and tightly bandaged arms with a silver mask which exposed only a pair of blue eyes. The man's stride, while slow, was confident, and prideful.
"Greetings, my lord. It is rather rare that you come to this church." The Bishop stated, The Leper watching as his sister moved towards the altar with his nephew, Baldwin spotting a young woman in deep prayer, and an Islamic man standing off to the side.
"Do you have a confession, my lord?" The Bishop asked, the silver mask under white silk turning towards the man, Baldwin feeling slight annoyance creep into his chest.
"I have come to support my nephew, not to confess to you." Baldwin stated, voice soft yet firm as the Bishop readied himself to speak, but was rendered silent by the man's gaze.
"I...shall take my leave, my lord." The Bishop muttered swiftly, bowing before retreating.
Sibylla led her son towards the altar on the opposite side of Arella, Sibylla kneeling down as she placed her interlaced fingers on the altar.
"Here, like this, darling." Sibylla spoke, gently fixing her son's hands properly, the woman ignoring the soft sobs of the woman next to them.
"Mother, why is the woman crying?" Arella's breathing stopped, and her flushed face reddened even more. Was she crying? She didn't even notice. The whole time she was focusing on asking God to watch out for her father and heal his sickness, and asking God that he would watch over her mother.
Arella turned her head towards the boy, the small boy smiling at her with a beautiful smile. Arella smiled as several blonde strands fell in front of her face, wet tears staining her cheeks as more threatened to fall.
"You have a beautiful son." Arella whispered, Sibylla turning towards her and producing a small smile.
"I thank you. Now, come, darling. Focus." Sibylla ushered, Arella sniffing as she slowly got to her feet and rubbed her eyes.
Turning around and walking swiftly, Arella released a silent gasp upon coming to a sudden stop to avoid a collision. Arella almost lost her balance only to stumble slightly, her eyes seeing nothing but pure white. Or what looked like the chest of someone. Looking up, Arella's eyes shown with fear as she saw not a face, but a silver mask. It wasn't what she was expecting.
"O-o-oh! I am sorry, I-I did not see you." Arella stammered, like a hapless fish as she briskly wiped her eyes and the drying tears on her face. The much taller man stared at her, studying her, and Arella could swear that she could hear the faint, slightly raspy breathing from under the mask.
"No, I did not see you. I apologize." The man spoke, briefly pointing to the mask to prove his point, Arella dumbfounded on what to say.
"I pray whatever sorrows you have are fleeting, and not lasting." Baldwin spoke, Arella releasing a shaky breath.
"I...thank you. You are very kind." Arella spoke, releasing a slight smile as she moved to the side.
"Farewell." Arella spoke, Baldwin simply nodding as the woman met up with Akeem, whom was waiting for her.
"Akeem, you did not have to wait for me." Arella spoke, the pair making their way out onto the street.
"Arella, you are very fortunate! Did you not know whom you were speaking to?" Akeem asked, Arella feeling a knot form in her stomach.
"No. Whom?"
"The woman you were praying with was Sibylla, the Princess of Jerusalem and her son!" Akeem spoke, Arella feeling her blood freeze in fear and disbelief.
"What!? B...But-"
"And do you know who that man was? The one in the mask?" Akeem asked, Arella paling, her eyes widening in fear.
"W-Who?" Arella asked, her voice shaking.
"The King of Jerusalem." Akeem stated, Arella completely and utterly freezing, the word 'king' echoing over and over in her head.
'It could not be, could it? No, of course not! But, if it was...'
"Oh, Lord, I made myself look like an idiot!" Arella cried, suddenly feeling faint with embarrassment as she swayed and wobbled on her feet, Akeem gently grabbing the woman to sit her down on a step.
Hello! First and foremost I do not own any of the historical characters. I only own Arella, Jordan, and Akeem. I apologize if I didn't get Sibylla or Baldwin's character down, but I tried. I thought it would be truly tragic for Baldwin to have a woman, only for him to die so early. At this moment, however, I'm more focused on the character development of Arella, Akeem, and Jordan. Poor Jordan. Also, a Messianic is basicly a Jewish person that has accepted Jesus as they're savior...so they're technically Christrian. Yeah. Well, I hope you all enjoyed! Please review and give me your input!