TO BE A KING
Summary: King Baldwin IV c.1161-1185 is the son of Amalric I of Jerusalem. He is also known as Baldwin the Leper. He came to throne at the tender age of thirteen in 1174 and his reign ended with his death in 1185. His life was short but remarkable and he achieved much during his reign and spent most of it in constant fight until a truce in 1180 that unfortunately lasted only two short years. He showed signs of leprosy at the age of nine but nothing came of it until 1183 when it suddenly spread.
I found his story to be touching and this is my take on the doomed but moral King.
Know man that he was and empathize with the King he became behind the mask. This is the legacy that he leaves; those he loved, those he loathed and above all, those who shaped his destiny as the King of Jerusalem. "Remember me as I was…"
Disclaimer for the whole story: All the movie characters/characterization of historical figures/events you recognize do not belong to me. This story is a mixture of history, the movie and my own imagination. None of it should be taken as fact.
---
PLUNDERERSKing Baldwin IV, the son and successor of Amalric I of Jerusalem rode proudly with his comrades, Tiberias, Hospitaler, Guy de Lusignan, Reynald de Chatillon, Godfrey of Ibelin. They were his friends, his knights, his Crusaders.
The Knights were in high spirits for their King rode side by side with them but it soon came to an abrupt end when they reached a small village that lay on the border of a stretch of land newly acquired by Guy de Lusignan. Commotion stirred like a tornado throwing peace into a violent rage.
"Thieves. Plunderers on the weak and unprotected. " Tiberias observed with open disgust. His war-trained horse grunted roughly pulling tight on the reigns. With a practiced tug he stilled the beast and looked to the young King.
Expression hardened, Baldwin watched from their distance atop the valley entrance. He could see children running, the old hiding and precious few fighting. A man hindered by a braced leg fought bravely, a woman held a torch defending her home and a girl swinging a long field tool like a spear. She swung again and hit a man down before throwing her makeshift weapon and diving to the floor-
Down below, Alexis darted for the dropped sword but soon realized that she could barely lift the weapon let alone use it to ward off harm. She dropped the heavy hilt back into the mud and scrambled to the house. Inside, she flew into the kitchen tripping on overturned furniture as she went but she got what she wanted and her hand closed on the worn handle of a meat knife. Its familiar shape was smaller, sharper and much more useful than the heavy sword and the field hoe she had welded earlier.
Exiting immediately Alexia dove straight into the chaotic resistance before her courage could fail her. She threw her self against a heavily bearded man who was clawing at a girl barely past the age of twelve. Taken by surprise he lost his footing and rolled over into a waste ditch whilst the girl got up and fled.
Alexia barely spared the escaping girl a glance and whipped her small blade around clearly intending to use it. "Leave us be!" She shouted brandishing her diminutive weapon in a white knuckled grip. "You call yourselves men! Neanderthals!"
"Wench!" The fallen brute roared. His thick fingers tightened into a solid fist as he climbed out of the ditch. The young maiden swallowed hard. The sight of her disgusting adversary was enough to send bolts of fear to the very pits of her stomach and she whispered a heartfelt prayer that her end may be quick.
They were outnumbered and out-skilled but Alexia would not give up, not yet. The longer she fought the longer the others had to escape, if this be her life's only purpose then she shall serve it. With a war cry of her own she launched at the grisly opponent knife first with nothing but desperation to give her strength-
Above the valley both men and horses moved restlessly. "The problem will resolve itself. We have just claimed the land, it is inevitable that there will be unrest among its people." Guy de Lusignan dismissed. With a careless shrug he pulled his right reign and pressed his calves into the side of his horse ready to turn around.
Reynald nodded with agreement although he loathed to leave a bloodshed without tasting a single scream or savoring a single drop of blood. "We have no time to be Saints, there is a war that calls to us." He said with unsettling glee to their forthcoming battle. Their presence at the battlefront was called for and they were but three days travel to the destination. What was this village but a trickle compared to a river?
Virtuous by nature the King could not agree nor accept either of his Knights' casual willingness to ignore what they had seen, he held is hand up to stop Guy leaving. "This is more than unrest. I cannot have this barbaric act to happen on my land." He said with meaning. This land may belong to Guy but this Kingdom was under his command. Guy would be a fool to miss the intended undertone.
The King detected a slight twitch in the eyes of his Templar Knight but after a heart beat the older man lowered his head. "As you wish, My Lord." He replied submissively but Baldwin knew that such a man complied with no one, not even his King.
"What is it that we fight for if not to protect the weak? The people here are defenseless." Baldwin added addressing everyone though his gaze often fell back onto Guy who by now sat carefully neutral. "Those men have no Honor but we do!" He spurred his horse and charged downward with his sword drawn. Even without hearing the pounding of hooves and united cry of his Crusaders he knew that they would follow him without a second thought. These Knights followed loyalty and their loyalty rode the same horse as the King…but of course there are always exceptions…
Alexia slammed her foot onto the brute's shin but instead falling back he seized her in a bone-crushing grip-
"Whore of a dog!" he swore and a thick-fleshed hand slammed into the side of her face sending her reeling. Disorientated, Alexia found herself hung up by the arm like a rag doll choking on her own blood from her cut mouth-
-Instinctively curling she braced herself for a second blow-
-All of a sudden, the attack stopped and everyone turned at the thunderous sound of charging horses. In confusion Alexia thought that this was surely her end.
"Run!" She spluttered, spitting out blood as she did. What she wanted to do was scream at the remaining villagers to leave.
"CRUSADERS!" The barbarian shouted with fear that rivaled hers and he began to run lugging her with him. Backwards he peddled fearful of taking his eyes off the approaching warriors but wanting to get away. A rider rode swift and menacingly closer until he whipped past the back peddling man and raised his arm and sword. The horse galloped past them at a thundering speed that stole Alexia's breath away.
The brute's body simply crumpled and his dead weight dragged her with him. On top of the dirt she lay unable to understand what she was seeing. His dirty face locked in an open mouth shock along with his coppery hair lay a good few feet away from the body that held her prison. The ground was rapidly getting wet; the parched soil drinking up the fountain of blood that gushed from his opened arteries. Likewise her ragged dress began to soak red before she came to her senses to scream.
Screams erupted around her, joining her in a cacophony of fear as the slaughter began.
Baldwin turned his horse evenly around flexing his sword arm ready to lope the head off the next savage. It angered him to see such heinous attacks on villagers, innocents. His men arrived within seconds and he watched as Godfrey calmly swung his sword and beheaded a savage in the manner that he had just done and to his surprise it shocked him. In God's eyes they were all equal, what right did he and his men bring death to another even if it was in the name of justice? Mercilessly murdering murderers made them no different.
Screams were rising and a particularly piercing one cut through it all reminding him that their presence had made no difference to the violence he'd witnessed at the top of the hill. "I want them alive!" he bellowed over the chaos. "Catch and bind them!" he ordered. His men obeyed wordlessly with only Reynald displaying disapproval before reluctantly following orders. The savages took their now reserved attempts to capture as a weakness and the braver few dared to attack back.
However, the upper hand lay with the Crusaders; they were men of War, whether by choice or not because they lived in the Age of War, they breathed it, drank it and bleed their lives for it. The ferocity that commanded the Crusaders made the savages seemed all but petty. Easily driven into wild packs the ragged savages pleaded for their lives one by one.
Accustomed to men crying and begging for their lives Baldwin left Godfrey in charge while he guided his horse among the ruined village. Heaviness weighed on his heart. To protect his People his Kingdom was awash with blood. It seemed that in his past month of travels all he saw was blood, it stained the soil, the people, his hands and even his soul. With disgust he peeled off his gloves and dropped them to the ground. The coppery smell continued to cling to his heavy mail and it stung his nostrils as a stench like no other.
His horse grunted alerting him to the presence of people. What met his eyes sent a chill down his spine. Swaying like a wraith wrapped in the devil's cloak an apparition appeared not fifteen feet from him. He blinked hard and for a second he saw an angel though not one that he would welcome for it was covered in the fluid of life that he abhorred so.
Catching sight of him she stood abruptly, her hands spread out wide as if to protect the small huddle of children behind her.
Human. He thought with some relief. A girl and nothing more. With a nudge his horse brought him forward until he came to a stop in front of the group.
On his mount he towered over the girl but she held her ground. Her expression despite her swollen face startled him somewhat. As a boy he used to go on hunting expeditions with his Father, wolf hunting was the high sport of the time. Once he'd come across a vicious wolf, a mother defending her cubs. It was not so much as her stance that struck familiarity, for how could a wolf resemble a human? It was the same air of fierce protective defiance that he recognized.
Wanting to show that he meant no harm he dismounted though it seemed he still towered over her for he stood more than a head taller. The angle of her chin changed but a little and her misgivings towards him altered none at all.
"I mean no harm." He offered although he could see that his words did nothing to lessen the fear in their eyes. He removed his headgear and let it drop to the ground. The heavy metal fell with a thud and the group collectively jumped.
"My apol-"
"Run!" she shouted before he could finish his apology and with scared squeals the small group disbanded.
"Hey! I said I mean no harm!" Baldwin called after them and automatically caught the girl by the arm. She let out a high-pitched yelp and tried to pull away. "Listen to me!" He had half mind to just let her go but she was pulling too hard and if he released her she would fall. Her blood soaked clothes squelched uncomfortably under his grip.
"Let me go!" She screamed-
-And he did-
With another small shriek she fell to the floor as he'd predicted. Baldwin took two strides and he was pulling her to her feet.
"Now, if you've finished with your screaming fit I would like you to listen."
Alexia blinked, her eyes wide and pupils dilated with fear. He, another brute or whatever he was, was talking to her in firm hushed undertones. Her wrist was once more imprisoned and any attempt of loosening his iron grip was swatted away.
"Go away. Please…just leave us be." She half sobbed. If possible, his strikingly green eyes darkened at her plea and her heart sank at what was recognizably anger.
"What do you take me for?" He demanded as if highly insulted. "Surely you do not believe that I am one of those barbarians?" Alexia looked away her answer as clear as a winter crisp morn.
Baldwin sat back on his heels. These people could not tell friend from foe but then how could he blame them. The enemy took life as did they, what was it that made them different?
Alexia couldn't help but cower as far from him as her imprisoned arm allowed. Even with her face hidden behind a curtain of her hair she could feel his piercing stare probe her for an answer. Slowly, she became away of his fingers relaxing and when she tentatively pulled her hand back, he did not stop her.
Baldwin watched still crouched while the girl shuffled on the floor to put some distance between them. "You are letting me go?" she asked uncertainly in way that almost made it a statement. He nodded. "Why?" Alexia automatically bit her lip and scolded herself mentally. How stupid for a prisoner to question given freedom!
The man seemed to be following the same trail of thoughts because he let out a throaty chuckle. "Why not?" He returned adding to her confusion.
"Are you a Lord?"
Baldwin did not answer immediately because Hospitaler and Guy came striding towards them, their armor announcing their arrival loudly. "In a manner, yes." He replied.
"Insolent slave!" Guy boomed startling the girl. "How dare you speak to-"
"That will be enough." The King cut firmly. "There is no need to cause any further unnecessary alarm."
"Don't be so harsh, Guy. The poor girl is scared out of her wits." Hospitaler soothed although her attention remain fixed upon the most threatening out of the trio. "And who wouldn't be when confronted with a face that only a Mother could love." He added under his breath for Baldwin and the girl to overhear. He finished it with a conspiratorial wink that elicited a smile from the King and bewilderment from the girl.
In truth, Guy de Lusignan was not an ugly man but then neither was he fair. Like the other Knights he was tall and broad shouldered enough to command a stern presence. His face was neither remarkable nor handsome; but a forceful nature, fortune and a preceded reputation ensured that he never spent too many nights alone when surrounded in the creature comforts of civilization.
The King, on the other hand possessed a face that appealed to most. Graceful yet strong were his facial appearance, with a straight nose that divulged his nature and a mouth that yielded easily to smiles and laughter. But perhaps his most winning feature was his eyes; blessed by a shade of deep forest green they could darken just as easily as they could lighten. Not only a beauty to behold, they were the greatest tool a man could ever have; eyes that spoke without words. Though the King was less adept at wielding them as his sister, Sibyilla who, by the age of thirteen had already mastered the art of using them to bend every will to her own.
Had Baldwin not born into Royalty he might have been a poet, a writer or a traveler across the seas with many tales to tell for he had an active mind with plenty of curiosity at hand. Unfortunately in life, few had the luxury of making their own choices. Even as a child he was different from others because he was a Prince and heir to the throne. Wild daydreams were interrupted by sword training; imaginary games dashed by politics and even dreams for a normal life were destroyed by war.
Still, the young King understood that his path was set at birth although how he was to walk it was entirely his own to decide. Baldwin chose to walk it for his people.
"Do not be afraid. I promise that for as long as I stand no harm shall ever come to your village or this land ever again." It was a valiant promise and together with his regal appearance it swayed many hearts and stirred faith but in Alexia the effect was lost. He could see that she was not convinced but then neither did he care to convince her. Words would only ever take a man so far; actions always took him further.
"Excuse me, My Lord." She bowed her head courteously acknowledging his importance over hers. "But I must find the children, they are lost lambs without their shepherd." He nodded to give her permission to leave but she was already well on her way.
"An ungrateful peasant girl." Guy noted with distaste.
"I think she has character!" Hospitaler said with mirth.
Alexia hurried off uneasily. Soon, with the remainder of the peoples from the sad village gathered they shared thought and exchanged grateful prayers that they were still alive. That done, all that there was left to do was wait. Alexia expected these men, the Crusaders to leave as soon as possible. The rich did not like to spend time in villages as ravaged as this. To her dismay they stayed and by nightfall half a dozen horse pulled carriages arrived. It appeared that they intended to stay but for how long and for what purpose she could not guess…
---
A/N: I'm thinking about changing the rating for this fanfic, undecided for now. I'm a bit iffy about this chapter because it kinda of dives right in but we'll see how this turns out. x