kingdom of nations

Chapter 126 First Battle (7)

When later generations talk about this war, there are almost ten thousand different opinions—they analyze the war from various channels, angles, and personal perspectives, using every means and doing their utmost to find the smallest piece of evidence to prove their arguments.

But one thing is certain and universally acknowledged: before this surprise attack hidden in the endless night, everything done by both Yalasaru's side and Nurdin's side was predictable and systematic.

Some might laugh at the powerful figures of the Crusades at the time, Count Raymond of Tripoli and Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch, for their greed and short-sightedness. But based on their experience, although the Alassane route was empty at that time, the situation had stabilized. What was worrying was that the Camino de Santiago had become unsafe again.

They did not believe that an old and feeble Sultan Nur ad-Din, who was fighting another governor of Syria just a few months ago, would suddenly gather a large army to march south and attack Arrasa Road.

Some might ask, didn't Amalric I also change the course of the war with his own death? No, it's completely different.

If Amalric I were nearly sixty, he would never have dared to leave Arrassa, as that would have been irresponsible to himself and the Crusaders. He left Arrassa in his early forties, in the prime of his life. Had it not been for Shavar, known for his cunning and selfishness, who had used his own life and the entire city of Folstadt to plot against him, his second expedition would have ended in a perfect conclusion.

As for Nur ad-Din's side, we can certainly understand his resentment. He was only Zengi's second son. Although Zengi divided everything equally between his two sons, it was clear that he was lacking compared to his brother, who was a mediocre and incompetent man.

It should be noted that the person he most admired was the Prophet Muhammad, but Syria alone was far from enough for him to catch up with him.

The decades of wars, struggles, and infighting made him realize more and more clearly that the only way to firmly unite the Saracens, a group of scattered forces, was through faith, just as the Prophet Muhammad had done.

If he were to pick up the authority that the prophet had dropped and set off again toward his goal, how would he persuade the people?
holy city.

Arazarus was once a city of the Canaanites, Isaacs, Romans, and Saracens. It was also the sacred site where their prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven, but it was taken by outsiders, and successive sultans and caliphs sought to reclaim it.

If Nur ad-Din can accomplish this at the very end of his life, he will be able to kneel at the feet of the Prophet Muhammad and report this remarkable achievement to him when he ascends to heaven. His descendants will also become the inheritors of the Prophet's rights and ideals, just like Abu Bakr, Umar ibn Khatab, Uthman ibn Afan, and Ali ibn Abi Talib (the Four Caliphs).

That is why, upon discovering that he was terminally ill, the elder immediately and firmly concealed this secret. He did not, like an ordinary person, try to prolong his life through rest, treatment, or prayer...

Instead, he made a choice immediately—he would die on Arrassa Road.

Those foolish crusaders were indeed as he suspected, though more out of contempt for him, even though he had once been a distinguished warrior and was now old.

They thought he didn't have the courage, but Nurdin proved with his actions that he did, and with great courage at that.

At that time, Arrasa Road was practically a ghost town, as the main Crusader force had almost entirely marched north. Although some knights and soldiers remained, this force was certainly no match for the tens of thousands of troops brought by Nur ad-Din. But at that time, no one expected that the young Baldwin IV would leave the Holy City and happen to encounter the Sultan outside Macab Castle.

In this matter, one can only say that the goddess of fate seems to enjoy turning the threads of the spindle at such crucial moments, causing this river full of possibilities to flow in another direction.

Sultan Nur ad-Din's massive army marched forward like a raging flood, sweeping away everything in its path. They may have spotted the Christian knights, but they paid them no heed. Just as Nur ad-Din's light cavalry had once spotted a Templar Knight emerging from Macab Castle, mistaking him for an ordinary guard.

If Nur ad-hoc had paid even a little attention, he would have noticed the sudden increase in knights, horses, and servants at Macab Castle, and with a little deduction, he could have guessed that Baldwin IV was in the castle. If so, the entire story we know today would have to be rewritten.

But he didn't.

When night fell, their army had to rest by the lush Sea of ​​Galilee (Lake Tiberias), where the narrow terrain forced them into a long, narrow strip.

This "belt" was clearly divided according to the composition and status of the people involved, and Philip, the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, who had fought against the Saracens for many years and was very experienced, could recognize the location of the Sultan's camp at a glance.

After Baldwin IV and Cesare tore open the gap, he immediately commanded other knights and squires to rush into the gap and widen it, in order to separate the Sultan’s camp from the other camps.

Meanwhile, knights and squires temporarily recruited from other castles and cities, along with armed attendants, were responsible for dispersing the approximately 12,000 Nubian slave soldiers in the rear. They consisted of 4,000 cavalry and about 8,000 infantry, and in terms of numbers, they had an overwhelming advantage.

It was the dead of night, and these Nubians, lacking organization and guidance, were unable to see in the darkness and were filled with fear and confusion by the firelight, screams, and chaotic figures. They had come for money and had no faith, law, or anything else to restrain them, so they chose to flee without hesitation.

In fact, if they were willing to stand up, calm down, and take a closer look, they would find that there were only about a thousand people among them who were galloping on horseback, howling loudly, constantly throwing torches, shooting crossbow bolts, and wielding swords. Apart from knights and squires, some of them were residents of nearby cities.

Although they did not live on Arazari, they understood the principle of mutual dependence. If the Saracens conquered Arazari, they would at least be expelled. Nur ad-Din had little leniency towards these infidels, and even if he did, the emirs would not allow him to do so—otherwise, where would they go to slaughter and plunder?

What Baldwin IV asked them to do was neither difficult nor even dangerous. They only needed to create a spectacle, making these dark-skinned infidel bastards think a large army had suddenly arrived. Sure enough, apart from a few unlucky souls who were accidentally wounded or fell off their horses, the casualties were not many.

These Nubians would even throw away their only weapons and abandon their horses, fleeing for their lives. Some even lost their bearings in the darkness and plunged into the Sea of ​​Galilee (Lake Tiberias). If they couldn't swim, they would quickly drown; even if they could, they might lose their way in such a panic—it was nighttime, and if they kept swimming, they would end up on the bottom instead of the surface, and would eventually drown.

The most troublesome were, of course, the Emirs and Fatahs. Unlike the Nubians, they had faith and loyalty. But then a strange thing happened: several men dressed in Saracen robes and turbans rode into the camp on horseback, shouting loudly, "The Sultan is dead!"

"The Sultan is dead!"

"The Sultan is dead...!"

At this point, the dangers of the Saracen dynasties being ruled solely by the caliph or sultan became apparent.

In the Crusades, even if a king like Amalric I died, the expeditionary army could immediately elect a new commander through meetings and consultations. But the Saracens could not.

While the Sultan was alive, everyone here could be considered his slave, and they would all become slaves of the Sultan's son in the future. What slave would dare to take command of the army when the Sultan died, unless he was certain that he would become the second Sultan? Otherwise, he would either be wiped out by the Sultan's army on his territory or walk alone into the Sultan's palace and kneel down to be obediently hanged by his chief eunuch.

Even Saladin, who was poised to become the second Sultan, had not dared to appear before Nur ad-Din to this day. This threw the Saracen, Kurdish, and Turkic tribal leaders into chaos. Some were eager to rush to the Sultan's camp to find out what was going on; others wanted to retreat and return to Damascus or Apol as soon as possible. Even if some clever individuals guessed that the enemy was deliberately spreading rumors to undermine morale, how could they possibly persuade the others amidst this confusion?

Taking advantage of this opening, Baldwin IV's elite troops caught up with Nur ad-Din's forces. Nur ad-Din had a personal guard of two thousand men, the strongest shield and sharpest spearhead in this battle. But as in every battlefield before them, no enemy could stand against or entangle Baldwin IV and Cesare.

They came toward Nur ad-Din.

"Who are they?" Nurdin asked, and the chief eunuch beside him vaguely guessed the identities of the two men. The Spear and Shield of Arrassa—this reputation had already spread throughout the battlefields. A wise man like Nurdin immediately thought of it—he had heard that the young Baldwin IV was on a tour, and at that time, he thought that he would be the second Earl of Edessa (when Zangi attacked Edessa, the lord of Edessa happened to be away).

The Sultan gave a regretful smile. “Makab,” he murmured. They had met in Macabu, but the young Baldwin IV had seen him then, while he hadn’t noticed Baldwin IV. He hadn’t expected that this remarkably young monarch would not flee or return to Arrassa to prepare for a desperate defense, but instead choose such a rash decision.

What's even more astonishing is that he actually succeeded, but so what? Perhaps it was destiny. Their battlefield wasn't on Yalasa Road, but here. Nurdin's eyes shone brightly, his blood boiling. He felt as if everything before him was shrouded in a layer of crimson sand—there were still two thousand people here, while how many could the enemy hastily gather? Three hundred? Or five hundred?

Victory was still standing beside him. "Allah..." he wanted to pray, but he couldn't hear his own voice. He looked at his hands in surprise as the long sword fell from them. He saw his chief eunuch rushing toward him in a panic, his mouth wide open, as if shouting something.

The Sultan's memory ended there, and he fell off his horse.

At this point, the outcome of the battle was decided.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sultan fell to the ground, surprising everyone except for a Saracen who was quietly disappearing into the crowd—he wore a triumphant smile of revenge, yet tears streamed down his face.

What happened next is unnecessary to recount. The Saracens lost all will to fight and fled in all directions. The Christian knights chased them all the way to Damascus before finally stopping – they were really few in number. This undeniable victory left even Cesar somewhat dazed, let alone Baldwin.

He would wake Cesar every now and then—they had originally lived in separate rooms, but Baldwin always wanted to confirm and talk to Cesar, and Cesar, annoyed by this, would pull out his wheelchair from under his bed and temporarily live with him, just as they had when they were still a prince and his servant.

“God,” Baldwin said, sitting on the bed with disheveled hair, “did we win?”

"Yes."

“We’re not in a Saracen prison, but in…” He looked up and around…

“In Bethlehem, we will return to Alaska Road tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Baldwin said, “then we have won. We have defeated Sultan Nur ad-Din and his soldiers.”

"That's right, there are tens of thousands of them."

“Nurdin…”

"He is still alive, but he doesn't have much time left."

"..."

"Go to sleep, Baldwin, they're even planning to give you a triumphal procession."

"what?"

"It's like they'll paint your face red, make you stand on a two-wheeled carriage, and then find a dark-skinned Nubian slave to stand next to you and say, 'You're just a mortal after all...'"

The room was quiet for a while.

You're laughing at me.

"Yes."

------

There was no triumphal procession, of course, but as they entered Arrasa Road, the roar of the welcoming crowd nearly lifted Baldwin and Cesar into the air—even the lowest beggar knew what their victory meant: that no one in the city would lose their life because of the Saracens!

Nurdin was placed in a closed carriage. Baldwin had no intention of humiliating the old man, but he died on his first night on Arrasa Road.

His body was carefully preserved, and news of his death was quickly relayed back to Apol. Regardless of his three sons' intentions, they wanted to retrieve their father's and the Sultan's remains from the Christians as soon as possible, hold a ceremony, and bury them. Thus, the negotiating team was assembled almost that very night, along with some "gifts."

The black-haired girl remained relatively calm as the eunuch dragged her out of the room—unlike her companions, the former First Lady gazed at them: "You once danced and played music before the Sultan. If he hadn't been preoccupied with other matters at the time, you would have been his concubines long ago..."

Upon hearing this, the blonde and brown-haired girls were already terrified and their bodies went limp. Two of them even started crying. Although the Saracens did not have the custom of burying people alive with the dead, no wife would like her husband's concubines. Now the First Lady was the only mistress of the harem, and no one would say anything no matter how she treated them.

“But the master wouldn’t want me to do this…and I don’t want to see you again, so,” the First Lady stood up, “you should follow the messenger to Arazari and serve the Christian king.”

(End of this chapter)