kingdom of nations

Chapter 263 Saladin's Same Troubles (Part 1)
Saladin knelt on a small rug, devoutly worshipping the holiest place for the Saracens—he was reciting scriptures silently, each letter flowing through his tongue and heart like a rolling pearl.

He knew that many Saracens were talking about him in private. He was not very devout, because he had always been very tolerant of Christians and Jews, and the hatred between Christians and Saracens was almost irreconcilable.

Although they worship the same deity, like brothers sharing the same house, their shared bloodline only intensifies their struggles—neither wants to lose this precious legacy, the fire of their spirit, the dwelling place of their bodies, and the home of their souls.

What are you asking of God?

"The minister Kamal, who was with him in prayer, asked in a low voice."

“Unity,” Saladin replied, “the unity of the Saracens.”

Kamal did not respond; he let out a long sigh in his heart.

The earliest prophet used faith to unite those scattered tribes like sand, but the vast empire he founded soon fell apart after his death. What he had seen and hoped to see had become detailed pictures and beautiful words in the scriptures, but no one believed in them anymore. They had lost the benevolence and integrity that the prophet required of them.

Nur ad-Din was undoubtedly the one they placed the most hope in. Unfortunately, he had no successor, and in the last moments of his life, he embarked on a campaign to Jerusalem. Perhaps he had already foreseen this tragic scene, which is why he was willing to gamble everything.

He died in Jerusalem. Though not in the way he had hoped, Kamal and his other followers looked around in bewilderment, unable to find a place to entrust themselves and their families, until Saladin wrote to him.

Kamal initially had no intention of siding with Saladin. Saladin was the most distant of the Sultan Nur ad-Din in terms of bloodline, law, and scripture. Moreover, since he went to Egypt with his uncle to work for the Fatima Caliph al-Atid, he had been subtly breaking away from Nur ad-Din's control.

In the end, whether it was Nur ad-Din's request for him to relinquish power and return to Apol, or his urging of the Saracens in Egypt to convert, he skillfully declined both requests.

Even if Nur ad-Din did harbor malicious intent, and Saladin's choice was arguably correct, from the perspective of Nur ad-Din's ministers, Kamal could only call it a rebellion.

In fact, many of them had already made their decision. Even if Nurdin's youngest son, Saleh, ascended the throne and the First Lady became the Regent Mother, they would not have much objection. Those who were promoted and given important positions by Nurdin were naturally the best in their fields. They believed that even if a monkey were tied to the throne, they could still ensure that he retained Nurdin's territory and power.

But therein lies the rub.

Did Saleh and the First Lady really not know when they were arrested and tortured by the other two princes? They cannot be considered clean simply by looking at who the final victor was.

The First Lady was fully aware of this, yet she still condoned it, simply to minimize the obstruction and restrictions from senior officials during her term in office... This was a blatant demonstration of how short-sighted and malicious she was.

As for Saleh, Nur ad-Din's youngest son, he was nine years old at the time. In an era when boys were considered adults at the age of twelve, the fact that a nine-year-old child was still unable to make any decisions for himself could only indicate two possibilities.

The first possibility is that he understands everything that is happening now and knows what will happen, but he remains indifferent and stands idly by—such a monarch is not trustworthy; he does not love his ministers, and his ministers certainly have the right not to love him.

The second possibility is that he was indeed utterly ignorant and foolish, in which case he wouldn't have been chosen by Kamal and others to be Sultan. Otherwise, while they were locked in a life-or-death struggle with the Sultan's enemies, would they also have to be wary of betrayal by their own allies?

They finally decided to side with Saladin because, after receiving their plea for help, Saladin indeed led three thousand men to Damascus.

At that time, Kamal didn't have much hope, after all, his relationship with Saladin hadn't been harmonious before.

Upon receiving Saladin's invitation, he immediately shelved the letter. Although he did not make sarcastic remarks or take the side of the opponents, he did make his stance clear.

But Saladin did not abandon them.

Upon returning to Cairo, Egypt, they felt even more certain that they had made the right choice. The Fatimid dynasty no longer existed, and the court was mostly composed of former officials of Caliph al-Atid.

These people may be useless, but no one dares to underestimate them. They have been cultivating their influence for a long time and are deeply rooted. Like a towering tree that has fallen, uprooting its deep-rooted roots is a more difficult task than cutting down the trunk.

Conquering a country is much simpler than ruling one.

Saladin needed them, and they needed Saladin; their talents and ambitions were realized in a place thousands of miles away.

They took over the work of those who held positions without performing their duties, and brought in more capable and outstanding officials through letters, camels, and pigeons.

From the information brought by these relatives and friends, they were forced to sadly confirm that the hope that Sultan Nur ad-Din had created was crumbling, as if some force was pulling the Saracens back to that ignorant and dark old time.

Sand was constantly leaking from their clenched fists, and chaos reigned everywhere. Both Emil and Vizier hoped to become the next "Light of Faith."

Unfortunately, none of them were like that.

This situation became even more pronounced further away from the Nile Delta, where the vast territory once owned by Nur ad-Din had been fragmented into scattered villages.

When Saladin decided to accept the governor of Damascus's request for help and led his army north, Kamal hesitated about whether to dissuade him, because in his opinion, managing Egypt well was the most important thing right now.

But he soon realized that Saladin's decision might be right; if the chaos in Syria continued, the Saracens would only face the tragic fate of being defeated one by one by the Crusaders.

But the thought of this brought a bitter taste to Kamal's mouth. To this day, it seems that only Saladin is still able to pick up the prophet's staff that he has discarded on the ground and continue his arduous journey.

Along their journey, the tribal chiefs and city officials they encountered seemed to care only about themselves, or at most their own tribes or cities. They weren't entirely without hope for the future, but if you pressed them about what that future entailed, they would fall into a daze, unable to utter a single word.

The Crusaders were eyeing the land covetously, but that didn't stop these Saracens from still viewing their neighboring tribes as prey—it was commonplace for one tribe to attack another; it wasn't uncommon for an "Emir" to be unfair in distributing spoils, causing discontent among the soldiers, who would then shoot him; and when a "Fateh" died, the tribe would immediately descend into chaos, with warriors inevitably following his son in a fierce battle until a final victor was determined.

When the leaders gathered together, they would quarrel over a knife or a horse... and eventually turn against each other. Saladin mediated countless such disputes, and his workload far exceeded that when he was in Cairo.

If only the Christians were also leaderless. Unfortunately, both he and Saladin had seen the child and the monarch he served.

Kamal sometimes wished he could be more despicable; if he could, he would have far fewer troubles.

"May God hear your prayer," he said sincerely. Saladin faced him, his back to the torches outside the tent. The torchlight cast a bright golden glow around him, but completely shrouded his face in darkness.

Kamal couldn't see his expression clearly, but it probably wasn't a smile.

Saladin seemed to be about to say something when a man suddenly pushed aside the guards outside the tent and walked in. The two young Mamluks looked angry, but could not draw their swords—the man was Saladin's brother, Turanshah.

Saladin turned to the side, letting the firelight illuminate half of his face. "What brings you to my tent at this hour, without prior notice?"

“I am your brother, Saladin,” Turansha muttered. He was a burly man who looked more like a giant bear than the lean and thin Saladin.

However, this robust physique is not admired among the Saracens. After all, the Saracens are a nomadic people, and an overly bulky person is always somewhat sluggish, placing a greater burden on horses and camels, and consuming more food and water, which is detrimental to the survival of others.

Turansha strode into the tent and sat down amidst his brother's disapproving gaze. Even though it was just a short walk from his own tent to Saladin's tent—the two tents were probably only a little over three hundred feet apart—he was still a bit out of breath.

Saladin didn't sit down, but paced back and forth a few times. "Speak quickly if you have something to say."

Turanshah lowered his head, as if pondering for a moment, before raising it again with a smile and a calm tone. In a manner neither Saladin nor Kamal could have imagined, he casually said, "Give me Damascus after you have driven back the Christians."

For a fleeting moment, Kamal couldn't resist the urge to clean his ears.

He then looked at Saladin in astonishment, seemingly unable to believe he had heard such utterly absurd and ridiculous words. And these ridiculous words were spoken by Saladin's half-brother—had he misheard something?
What Turansha meant was that he wanted to follow Saladin to defeat the Christians—and then, although it was a bit of an exaggeration, if he had indeed performed an undeniable feat, Saladin could indeed have left Damascus to his brother.

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Saladin said solemnly, perhaps still hoping his brother would suddenly grin and say he was just joking...

Turansha, however, failed to appreciate his good intentions. He raised his head, stared at Saladin, and said earnestly, “I just went to see my sister, who is also your sister. She is determined to return to Holmes, and you have promised to send an army to escort her back to her husband—have you reached some kind of agreement with the people in Holmes? I know he is a greedy fellow.”

He had also considered getting his hands on Damascus, which made me somewhat worried…

His eyes shifted to the side: "If he asked you to exchange Damascus for his Holmes, would you agree? You would, but I beg you not to. Leave Damascus to me."

He said matter-of-factly, “I am your elder brother, your closest relative. You will eventually return to Cairo. Who will help you defend this new territory then?”

He patted his chest, “Only me, Saladin, only me.”

This was the first time Kamal had seen an expression of disbelief on Saladin's face; the sultan's usual composure and calmness seemed to have vanished.

"Are you running a fever?" Saladin said in a deep voice. "How could you say such a foolish thing?" Seeing that Turansha was still unwilling to refute, Saladin's face suddenly darkened.

Just now, he suddenly remembered something. He had just finished his prayers, and although Turansha's tent was only about 300 feet away from his own, that was far too short a time for him to finish his prayers and then walk to Saladin's tent. It could only be said that...

"You don't go to church."

Turansha's expression immediately changed. He always appeared very devout in front of outsiders, but in reality, he would relax his self-discipline when no one was watching.

He hadn't done it on purpose; he'd simply fallen asleep by accident. As for why his servant hadn't warned him, he certainly wouldn't say it was his order. He was prepared to be scolded by Saladin, but Saladin suddenly knelt down, grabbed his brother's shoulders, looked into his eyes, and then leaned down to sniff his lips.

Although Turansha had rinsed his mouth and changed his clothes, Saladin could still clearly smell the sour stench of wine. He turned pale, stood up, and kicked Turansha to the ground. Before Turansha could retaliate, Saladin drew his curved sword from his waist, pulled out a long sword from it, threw it on the ground, and then brandished the scabbard, viciously whipping his brother.

By neglecting prayer and indulging in alcohol, Turanshah committed two sins that were difficult for him to accept.

Moreover, he was still there, casually demanding that Saladin hand over Damascus to him. Who did he think he was? Ishmael, the common father of the Saracens? Only then would he dare to speak so recklessly.

Kamal had been trying to stop him, but he was a smart man and immediately noticed Turansha's unusual behavior. He hadn't even thought things through before coming to Saladin.

On the contrary, he had missed prayers by sleeping in, and then drank a large jug of wine, getting himself drunk, before finally finding Saladin in his intoxicated state. He probably thought he could use this opportunity to test Saladin's feelings, believing that since Saladin had agreed to his sister's excessive request, the Sultan should be even more generous to him, his elder brother.

So Kamal stopped genuinely trying to stop them and just pretended to cry out, "Ah, stop hitting him, Sultan, stop hitting him, he is after all... your brother... stop hitting him, please stop hitting him..."

But his feet seemed to be nailed to the ground, he didn't move at all, and he didn't even bother to lift his hands.

Saladin glared at Kamal, knowing he was watching him make a fool of himself again. It has to be said that the Ayyubid family is indeed full of talented people.

Don't even think about it.

Saladin's voice came intermittently from above Turanshah's head, "If you want Damascus, exchange it for the merits you've earned."

All I can say is that if Turanshah had the courage to attack Damascus, even if his mission was futile, Saladin might have granted his request and bestowed Damascus upon him.

But looking at him now, how could he still be a warrior worthy of admiration?

Saladin finally took a deep breath: "Get out!"

He said simply, and Kamal raised his hand to the Mamluks outside the door. The Mamluks immediately rushed in and dragged Turansha away from the Sultan.

“All the guards today should be punished,” Saladin said.

(End of this chapter)