kingdom of nations

Chapter 157 Reunion

When the black flag with a white eagle first appeared in the empty wasteland near Damascus, no one paid attention, no one believed it, and people were full of doubt and speculation.

They could never have imagined that in the next twenty years, the owner of this banner would traverse almost the entire Arabian Peninsula. Neither the Seljuk Turks, nor the descendants of the Zengid dynasty, nor the fearsome Assassins, nor the warlike Crusaders, nor even the remnants of the Fatimid dynasty could shake his throne.

People who came after him would feel reverence whenever they saw this banner, and even his enemies were no exception—not only because the banner's owner was a devout believer, a wise king, and a valiant warrior, but also because he was a benevolent sage who forgave far more lives than he killed.

Some would even say that without Saladin, there would have been no Holy King.

Although this claim drew criticism from many, they had to admit that it was King Amalric I of Arrassal who first found the gem in the sand, but it was Sultan Saladin who had it carved, set it in the crown, and presented it to the world.

Of course, at that time, people, including Saladin himself, had no idea what great miracles the Christian knight they were watching would perform.

They simply stood on a hill not far from the battlefield, looking down over the sandy land that would once again be plunged into fierce fighting.

Saladin remained silent, but several of his closer generals began to whisper amongst themselves in surprise. His nephew even couldn't help but ask, "Did he fail to recognize your banner?"

It was indeed a brand new flag. He looked up at it. Even in Egypt, Saladin had never unfurled it until they arrived in Damascus. Saladin then looked at it and saw that the white eagle with its wings spread proudly on the black flag was different from the ones that had been used on heraldry and flags before.

It faces both enemies and friends with its wings spread wide, wingtips pointing to the sky, and talons striking the ground. Those familiar with eagles and falcons can easily tell that this is the final moment before the bird of prey seizes its prey.

Saladin gently stroked the silver ring on his hand.

His ring also featured a similar eagle. If the child had pressed his silver ring onto a piece of paper to trace its shape, he would certainly have recognized the flag's origin at a glance. Would he have? With the child's meticulousness and caution, he would have, though he would have carefully kept the ring and burned the paper with the design, but he would never have forgotten it easily.

Saladin's generals had their reasons for raising such questions. In their view, the army was exhausted, thirsty, and had already fought against a group of Oghuz Turks, one of the most troublesome under Sultan Nur ad-Din's command. They had also witnessed how the Crusader knights generously threw precious silks under their horses' hooves to trample them, using greed to hinder the enemy's movements, and hanging broken bronze mirrors on their bodies to use sunlight to turn the enemy's advantage into a disadvantage—all truly admirable and ingenious ideas.

But their decision not to engage in direct combat also suggests that they may be at their limit. Their leader had to ensure that the knights' strength was preserved to the greatest extent possible, and he did just that. However, the enemy was not limited to these knights—another group of over a thousand Turks had come to hunt them down.

They now have only three or four hundred men left, and they are at a disadvantage in every aspect. Now that reinforcements have arrived, shouldn't they turn around and run towards them for protection?

Even if they did this, they might become Saladin's prisoners, but it would be better than losing their lives to these barbaric Turks.

But to their surprise, the group did not approach them, dismount, or kneel to beg for mercy. Instead, they raised their flags again, and their young leader drew his longsword and held it in the air. The sunlight focused on the bright tip of the sword, as if a new sun had risen.

The knights showed no sign of cowardice or fear; they followed him without hesitation and charged into the dark enemy ranks.

"Are they crazy?" the Saracen general questioned. "They don't need to do this at all!"

Being taken prisoner by each other in the war between the Saracens and the Crusaders cannot be considered a humiliation.

Some Crusader generals even took pride in having spent time in Saracen prisons. A king, duke, or earl could spend many years in a pagan prison. For example, Josephine II, Earl of Edessa, his son Josephine III, Bohemond, Grand Duke of Antioch, and his stepfather Reynard were all Saracen prisoners. Reynard never returned to Antioch.

Amalric I had previously executed twelve Templar Knights in a fit of rage. Don't assume that those knights who joined the order and became "warriors of God" were truly devout enough to be unafraid of death—perhaps most of them were, but some would shamelessly grovel before their enemies, begging for a chance to survive.

Especially now that joining the Knights Templar has become a lucrative business.

Leaving aside the young man's long future, he had only recently regained his identity and status. Even though the County of Edessa no longer existed, he was still King Arazarus's cousin. With this relationship, he could at least become a powerful minister in the future, and he already had his own fiefdom—Bethlehem, which, though small, was wealthy.

If that's the case, why should he pay such a heavy price for a moment of humiliation?

“If he really did that…” a voice answered him, but it wasn’t Saladin. It was the weary-looking Kamal who answered, but he didn’t continue, leaving the general bewildered.

They were discovered by Saladin's army earlier than Cesar and his men. At first, they were terrified and desperate, thinking that they had been discovered by another army from Apol. The other side was also puzzled. Judging from their clothes, age, and appearance, they did not seem to be farmers or shepherds. Why were they gathered behind a sand dune, waiting blankly—as if waiting for some outcome?

Fortunately, one of the team members recognized Kamal. He called out Kamal's name and learned the identities of the others from the minister.

He immediately turned back and informed Saladin. Saladin's visit at this time was partly due to Kamal and several ministers he had long admired.

He also learned about Apol's current situation from Kamal, which made him hesitate.

"How many troops have you brought?" Kamal asked. "Three thousand," Saladin replied, a number that was delicately balanced between self-preservation and expansion.

But after listening to Kamal's advice, Saladin ultimately decided to temporarily abandon the idea of ​​marching on Damascus and even Apollo.

Syria is about to descend into chaos, with everyone restless and eager to act. If he still had any money and troops at his disposal, the First Lady and Sultan Noordin's youngest son, Saleh, would not be able to hold Apollo; they might soon be driven out of the castle.

But this does not mean that the next person to sit on the Sultan's throne will be able to rest easy. He will face scrutiny, hatred, and constant attacks from all sides, with everyone wanting to reach out, tear him down, and repeat his fate.

“But Saladin, you are different from them. Your uncle and you already have Egypt, although…”

“Shirku is dead,” Saladin replied calmly. “Perhaps you don’t know, but just before I set out, my uncle Shirku had already passed away from a sudden illness and ascended to heaven to meet Allah. I am now the Grand Vizier of the Fatimid Caliph Atid.”

“Perhaps I should offer my congratulations.” After a brief moment of surprise, Kamal said quickly, though it sounded rather disrespectful, he was still unable to shake off his status as a subject of Sultan Nur ad-Din.

From Sultan Nur ad-Din's perspective, Saladin was an outright traitor.

However, Saladin wasn't one to fuss over such trivial matters, especially since he admitted that his and his uncle's actions did indeed constitute betrayal. He didn't want to deny this, and Kamal's analysis of the situation had convinced him. Although he was now Caliph Atid's Grand Vizier, if he remained in Syria and participated in this chaotic conflict, it was hard to say whether Atid and the remnants of the Fatimid dynasty around him might develop some unpleasant ambitions.

In that case, leaving Syria behind and using the Sultan's throne as bait to let these hungry hyenas fight each other, thus weakening their strength, might not be a bad option.

They originally intended to return directly to Damascus, but Kamal had not forgotten Cesare. Although he did not know where Cesare and the Turks were fighting, it should not be far from where they had been found, and Saladin's cavalry quickly located them as well.

Saladin merely smiled at his reply. Indeed, if the young man had led his men to surrender to him, he might have pardoned them and allowed them to return to Arrasa, whether for Sultan Nur ad-Din or for his own sake, but he would undoubtedly have been disappointed.

No matter how noble the reasons the other party gave—whether for the peace of his parents in their final moments or for the safety of his subordinates—these reasons could not persuade Saladin.

Perhaps it was precisely because he rarely held such high expectations for someone, especially a Christian, that he hoped César could forever remain as pure, steadfast, and flawless as when they first met. Although he knew this was a demanding expectation, he firmly believed he would reciprocate accordingly.

Compared to Christians, the Saracen court was never short of people of other ethnicities. Even if they insisted on their faith, they could still become officials or generals, and the Sultan would even allow them to have their own priests and churches within the city. In this respect, the Saracen Sultan and Caliph were much more tolerant than Christian kings.

The general who asked the question understood Kamal's meaning, and he couldn't help but take a deep breath.

Since he had come to Saladin's side, it meant that he had gained Saladin's favor—and the meaning of Kamal's words first made him jealous, then his heart pounded wildly—thinking of the price that Christian knight had to pay for this favor, he shuddered. This was not asking a question of a person at all, he muttered to himself, while his companions gasped in surprise.

They expected to see a group of trapped warriors, wounded or even killed in a moment of impulsiveness. But they only saw a bolt of lightning—a lightning bolt that seemed to race across a dark sea, or pierce through a dense jungle, its sharp blade sweeping through the Turkic ranks. Wherever it went, the heads and limbs of the Turks leaped like fish, or fell like fruit.

Leading this bolt of lightning was the young man Saladin had chosen, and miraculously, none of the knights who followed him fell behind. Although the distance was too great to see their faces clearly, Saladin and the others seemed to have seen their clenched teeth, wide eyes, and tense muscles. Even just watching from the sidelines, many warriors clenched their fists tightly, almost as if they wanted to stand up straight from their horses and leap into the battlefield swallowed by the vortex of death.

The scene that the Turkic soldiers had not witnessed before was repeated once again. Their usual tactics were completely ineffective at this moment. Their horses could not outrun the Christian knights blessed by Cesar. Having lost their speed advantage, the Turks, who were only wearing lamellar or leather armor, could not withstand the knights' onslaught. They cried out and fell down unwillingly.

Even though they tried their best to organize a counterattack, the leading Christian knight was so vigilant and perceptive that as soon as they gathered together, he would immediately fall down with his snow-white Arabie horse, scattering and crushing them.

This wasn't a large or significant battle, yet it left onlookers breathless with tension. How had they managed it? The same question lingered in everyone's minds. A small group, outnumbered, outgunned, and outsupplied, had turned the tables and devoured a large pursuing force. And clearly, in the later stages of the battle, these Turks had completely lost their will to fight. They wanted to escape, but were helplessly drawn in and slaughtered time and again.

The battle lasted for more than an hour. When the battle finally came to an end, everyone realized that their bodies were so stiff that they could hardly move, their hands and feet were starting to go numb, and they could finally exhale the breath that had been pressing on their chests.

Saladin couldn't help but feel a sense of relief after the tension, and his smile deepened. Amidst the wrecked battlefield, Cesar looked up and recognized the white eagle on the black flag, unlike any eagle he had ever seen. He guessed that the newcomer was Saladin. After all, with Sultan Nur ad-Din dead and all the powerful figures vying for power, how could a man as ambitious and far-sighted as Saladin remain idle in Cairo, Egypt?

Even if it were just to understand the situation after Nur ad-Din's death, he would inevitably come in person. Moreover, Kamal asked them to take these ministers out of Apol without specifying where they were going. This might be a precaution, but César felt it was more likely because he had made an agreement with someone. And who else could it be?

If Kamal could truly tolerate fools, he wouldn't have escaped Apollo in such a sorry state.

Saladin galloped down the hills and reined in his horse just a few hundred feet from the battlefield. Cesare waved to Giovanni, refusing to follow him, and rode off alone to Saladin.

Saladin saw the young knight bow slightly to him from his horse. He reached out his hand, but the other man suddenly leaned forward and fell off his horse.

(End of this chapter)