Chapter 148: Chapter 148: The Voyage to Palermo
February 21st, 1181
The salty air of Acre filled Balian’s lungs as he stood on the bustling dock, the morning sun casting long shadows over the tightly packed ships moored at the harbor. His cloak billowed slightly in the sea breeze, and beside him stood Brother Gerard, poring over a thick sheaf of notes and letters secured in a leather satchel. The city thrummed with activity—merchants calling out prices, sailors hauling cargo, and soldiers sharpening blades nearby—but Balian’s mind was focused on the mission ahead.
"Ready, Brother Gerard?" Balian asked, glancing down the wooden planks that led to the vessel.
Gerard looked up, eyes sharp beneath his cowl, the weight of the journey clear on his face. "As ready as I will ever be. These documents," he tapped the satchel, "contain everything the King will need to convince William II that this union can be safe and beneficial. Medical reports, testimonies from healed patients, the outlines of our hygiene protocols... all carefully compiled."
The ship before them was a sleek galley flying the banner of Jerusalem—its crimson cross vivid against the white sails. It was part of the royal fleet, tasked with carrying envoys and supplies across the Mediterranean. Balian knew the fleet’s protection would be essential for the passage to Palermo, a voyage still fraught with danger from storms and pirates alike.
"We should be grateful for the fleet’s escort," Balian said, stepping aboard. "The seas grow unpredictable this year, and it’s wise to travel under the kingdom’s banner."
Gerard nodded, following closely. "Security is paramount. We cannot afford failure or delay."
Once aboard, the two men found a quiet corner of the main deck, where the steady rhythm of waves against the hull provided a backdrop to their conversation.
"Do you think William will receive the proposal well?" Balian asked, eyes scanning the horizon. "We both know the matter is delicate. A marriage to Baldwin—who still bears the mark of leprosy—may raise eyebrows, even alarms."
Gerard sighed. "The King of Sicily is a pragmatic man, but also a young one, and cautious. He will want assurances that this alliance will not bring weakness or scandal to his house. That’s why the medical research is critical. I believe if he understands the true nature of the illness, and the precautions Baldwin is willing to take, he may be convinced."
Balian folded his arms, gaze steady. "Baldwin is no fool. He’s not blind to the risks. But I believe, above all, he is lonely. He carries a kingdom on his shoulders and a sickness in his flesh. He needs a queen—not only to bear an heir, but to stand by him, to ease his burdens and to be a symbol of hope to the people."
Gerard’s expression softened. "That is true. Even a king must have someone to share his burden. A queen could bring stability, counsel, and strength. The alliance with Sicily could secure military aid and economic ties, which our kingdom desperately needs."
Balian nodded thoughtfully. "Still, some will say Baldwin is risking too much. That he should focus solely on governance and the sword, not marriage. But I trust his judgment. He has fought long and hard for this realm, and I believe this decision reflects a broader vision for its future."
Gerard placed a hand on the wooden railing, looking out at the sparkling sea. "Our mission carries great weight. I pray the winds favor us and that William is as open as we hope."
Below decks, the ship’s crew bustled with preparation for the voyage ahead. Barrels of fresh water, sacks of grain, and crates of salted meat were secured carefully. The scent of brine mixed with woodsmoke, and oil filled the hold. Balian found his thoughts drifting to the city of Palermo—the glittering jewel of Sicily—and the court where a young king ruled with both ambition and caution.
"I’ve heard William is fond of grand strategy and swift justice," Balian mused aloud. "If we can appeal to his sense of reason and ambition, perhaps he’ll see the benefits of an alliance as more than just marital."
Gerard smiled faintly. "And we must remind him that Baldwin’s reforms, the stabilizing of the kingdom’s administration, and the military strength now bolstered by Syria’s lands, make Jerusalem a partner worthy of investment."
Balian allowed himself a moment to imagine the scene—standing before the Sicilian court, delivering the King’s letter and Gerard’s carefully prepared documents, navigating the complex etiquette and politics of a foreign throne.
The sun climbed higher, casting a golden sheen over the waves as the galley unfurled its sails. The crew’s shouts mingled with the flapping canvas, and soon the ship was moving steadily away from the harbor.
Balian leaned on the railing, watching Acre fade into the distance. His thoughts returned to Baldwin, the king he served so loyally. The weight of the realm pressed on him too, but now it was coupled with hope—a hope that this marriage might bring peace, security, and perhaps a future where the king’s legacy would endure.
"Whatever happens," Balian said quietly to Gerard, "we must see this mission through with honor and discretion. For Baldwin’s sake—and for Jerusalem’s."
Gerard nodded in agreement. "We carry more than a message; we carry the future of a kingdom."