kingdom of nations

Chapter 137 On the Road to Apollo (2)

“If you want to hire Christian soldiers, that amount of food alone won’t be enough. You need to be prepared. They are greedy by nature and never satisfied.”

The speaker was the head of the mission that had traveled from Apol to Arazari. When he stood in the hall of the Holy Cross Castle, he was a refined and smiling Trivium, looking every bit the scholar.

Now? You can't say he's changed his appearance, but in terms of perception, he's completely different—cold, dangerous, and cruel. This is the true face of a subject who might gain a place under Sultan Nur ad-Din.

“Of course I know it’s impossible,” said Busra’s commander, Shamsdin. Others might feel fear, but he didn’t. After all, they had been friends for many years. He got up from the couch, poured a glass of chilled grape juice for the head of the delegation, Kamal, and poured one for himself.

This kind of wine... beverage is best served in a nearly completely transparent glass. He took a big gulp, held it in his hand and turned it around, admiring the beautiful glow of the deep red liquid under the candlelight.

“I have prepared a large sum of money. Their master—or rather, their master for this period of time—I have heard that the people of Arrasa Road call him ‘Little Saint.’ Does that mean that he might not be so difficult to deal with?”

Kamal scoffed, “The first Godfrey is also called a saint by Christians, but he killed as many Saracens as I have walked on sand.”

"So, he's just a fraud."

"Liar, no, how could you think that? He truly deserves it, at least from what I've seen. We should all thank him. He didn't let Sultan Nur ad-Din's body lie in the mud, rotting among maggots and stench. He cleaned it, wrapped it in white cotton, and trimmed its beard and sideburns, all without knowing that his father was in Nur ad-Din's fortress—"

The selection of female slaves from the Sultan's harem to be sent to the Saracens was orchestrated by the First Lady. The ladies of the harem were isolated from the outside world, and even if someone knew the true identity of a female slave, they could not possibly control the outcome of the Sea of ​​Galilee or the life or death of the Sultan.

“But he’s not the kind of person who’s swayed by people’s praise and recognition,” Kamal saw right through his classmate’s thoughts. “He never saw these knights as his own property, but rather as a gift to be returned in full—do you know what he’s been doing all this time we’ve been here?”

"doing what?"

“He cooks for those Christian lads,” Kamal said. “He spends the equivalent of a horse’s worth of money every day, considering there are hundreds of young men here.”

Can you imagine? He walked through the camp, ensuring he looked after everyone, not just the knights. Even the squires, armed attendants, and servants were under his care. Anyone who suffered injustice in the ranks could appeal to him. And after listening to all the witnesses and examining all the evidence, he never made an unjust judgment.

As you know, the three Christian knightly orders were never very harmonious. When they set out from the road to Arazars, they often quarreled, either verbally or physically, but by the time they reached Nazareth, the quarrels had ceased.

He was like a diligent sheepdog, guarding the ninety lambs entrusted to him by Baldwin IV with utmost care. If nothing unexpected happens, I think he intends to bring them all back to Arathi Basin. His king loves him, and he reciprocates with the same loyalty. What can you offer to change his mind?
"Please don't mention gold, and don't say he's a Christian. If any of us had reached that level, we wouldn't easily give up our hard-earned gains for some material possessions." "But I do need a strong force to wipe out the bandits between Damascus and Busla," Shamsuddin said with distress. "You know, when Sultan Nur ad-Din passed through here, I appealed to him, asking him to send a force to ensure the safety of the trade route and Busla."

But he refused. At that time, he was determined to conquer Arrasald,” Shams al-Din sat up—though Sultan Nur ad-Din had refused him, he still showed due respect to this worthy monarch.

After Nur ad-Din's crushing defeat, he also attempted to seek aid from Apol and Mosul. However, everyone was waiting for Sultan Nur ad-Din's funeral to conclude before declaring themselves his rightful successor.

They had long been prepared for war, not to expel the Christians, nor to wipe out the bandits, but to reclaim the rights and territory left by Nur ad-Din. They wouldn't waste their energy and military strength on such trivial matters. But for the people of Busra, it was a catastrophe; the bandits had become increasingly rampant, and not long ago they had even infiltrated the city, robbing some women and valuables.

"You're useless!"

Kamal rebuked him mercilessly.

“I’m just a mediocre person, not as good as you,” Shamsdin retorted defiantly. “But I don’t think I’m in the worst situation right now. I have Busla, although Busla is to Damascus and Apollo what brass is to gold, or glass to jewels.”

Although wealthy, we're not wealthy enough to be constantly on everyone's mind. But you…” He looked his friend up and down. “Are you really planning to return to Apol? As one of Nurdin's most trusted ministers before his death, they will undoubtedly try every means to win you over.” He made a face. “I just hope that when the time comes, you won't end up like the baby in the Solomon case, torn apart by three loving mothers.”

"Shut up! May God hear your words and cast you into Hellfire—how can you curse your friend like that?"

Kamal interrupted him, but when it came to the three sons of Nurdin, he himself felt that the hope was slim.

He rolled his eyes at Shamsding, but still gave him a suggestion: "You can't persuade Cesar in Bethlehem, but you can persuade the knights. If they think they can easily wipe out the bandits, they will accept the job."

"If they persist," he thought for a moment, "Cesar probably won't refuse their request."

"Is this really okay?" Shamsding asked doubtfully. "Won't he feel that these knights are provoking him, or that he's angry because his authority is not being respected? You're not retaliating against me, are you? They might whip me."

“Think what you will,” Kamal said, “but I must remind you that we are only staying in Busla for one night before heading to Damascus.”

(End of this chapter)