kingdom of nations

Chapter 264 Saladin's Troubles (Part 2)
Saladin thought he would not have to face that disappointing face for a long time.

After all, Turansha was dragged out of the Sultan's tent by two Mamluks in full view of everyone, but he really underestimated his brother's shamelessness.

On the evening of the third day, Turanshah sent a servant saying that he had fallen ill and hoped to obtain a doctor from the Sultan.

The doctors and scholars around Saladin were of the best, and there was an ample supply of both herbs and revelations from the prophets. As his sultan and brother, Saladin was also obliged to visit his tent.

Upon arriving, they discovered that Turansha hadn't lied. He was running a fever, and when he saw Saladin, he opened one eye and groaned, "God is punishing me, brother... Ouch! My head hurts, my fingers hurt, my toes hurt, my whole body aches, it's terribly uncomfortable..."

Saladin simply stood by his bedside, arms crossed, watching him expressionlessly.

He had also had a fever, and knowing that someone who could speak such a long passage fluently must not be seriously ill, he asked the scholars around him to treat Turansha and gave him some medicine.

After carefully examining Turansha's condition again, the scholar said, "Fever is not a physical injury and cannot be cured immediately, but I guarantee that he will be able to recover his original spirit in just one more night."

Saladin felt that even without the scholar's treatment, judging from Turansha's current condition, he would be better by tomorrow morning. He was about to turn and leave when Turansha gently tugged at his sleeve. He looked puzzled but remained silent.

"Please pray for me, and I will pray for you too."

This was to be expected. Saladin remained silent—he ordered the others to leave the room, spread out a small blanket on the floor, stepped forward, and easily dragged Turansha up from behind by placing his hands under Turansha's armpits.

Turansha weighed at least half a horse, but in Saladin's hands, he was like a rag doll that could be dragged around at will—at least that's how Turansha felt.

As Saladin placed him on the small blanket, he felt his brother's body leaning heavily towards him: "I have something to tell you," he whispered hastily in Saladin's ear, "Don't let anyone know."

Saladin remained silent, seemingly ignoring the words, but he did pat Turansha's shoulder firmly, putting Turansha at ease.

In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious and Merciful…

Turansha watched as Saladin knelt on the blanket. He stammered, wanting to say it was just an excuse, but remembering the beating he had received earlier, he immediately abandoned his thoughts and began to pray honestly.

The prayer consisted of only about ten lines, but Turansha was burning with anxiety.

He dared not leave Saladin in his tent for long. He didn't even dare to go to Saladin himself, saying, "Saladin, I'm going to expose a conspiracy to you..."

After praying, he spoke urgently, not even having time to get up from the blanket.

"Tell me about it?"

"Yes, there are people who want to oppose it—no, more than that, they want to start a rebellion."

"Who?"

"The remnants of the Fatimid dynasty, instead of being grateful for your tolerance and generosity, planned to end your life in this war and then blame it on the Christians or the Assassins."

How did you know?
“That night they sent a servant to invite me to their banquet. At the banquet, they told me about it.”

"They must think the bait they're throwing out will be irresistible, that's why they're telling you this so brazenly," Saladin sneered.

"Indeed, Sultan. They despise me, thinking I am either greedy or cowardly enough to expose this to you."

He considered it carefully. "They promised me that once you die, as your brother, I will not only get Damascus, but also all of Egypt."

“Indeed,” Saladin said calmly. “My sons are all minors, and Egypt needs a monarch who can wield a sword on horseback and govern the country on foot. It is impossible to wait for them to grow up slowly. In this respect, I am no different from Arazarus.” In an era of frequent wars, neither Christians nor Saracens could tolerate a young child sitting on the throne.

Who are they?

Turansha named those people, but he immediately added, "They said there were many of them, more than I could imagine. They advised me not to inform on you, because it would be pointless even if I did. They said..." At this point, a look of fear flashed across Turansha's face.
"They said you couldn't possibly abandon or dispose of a third of the entire army."

"one third……"

“Saladin, tell me, are they just making empty threats, or…”

“If you have to say something, they’re not wrong.” Saladin gave Turansha a chilling smile. He had been building a force that belonged only to him, the Mamluk army.

The problem is that, due to insufficient time and funds, he can only muster an army of two thousand men, who, while loyal to him, ultimately lack combat experience.

Even though these young men had grown up quickly by attacking forces that did not submit to him, it was impossible for him to leave Egypt with only two thousand men.

Therefore, the main force in this army consisted of the former nobles of the Fatimid dynasty. Even though they knelt at Saladin's feet and kissed his robe to show their loyalty, they now seemed no different from the wavering "Fatahs".

They could not accept Saladin's rule over Egypt, apart from loyalty to his former master—if they had any other reason—because Saladin's laws and policies had seriously jeopardized their interests.

Saladin was not Atid; he would not allow his men to continue to exploit the people after receiving his generous rewards and compensation.

He knew very well that the Mamluks he had bought were the ones who truly belonged to him, and the people of Egypt were the foundation of his power. He enacted numerous laws to limit officials' encroachment on land and plunder of the people, treating Christians and Isaacs equally, and forbidding others from extorting or blackmailing him with fabricated charges.

He also established standard weights and measures in the market, requiring both buyers and sellers to come to his scales for impartiality.

Before this expedition, he was still planning a method to unify the tax system, but he had not yet reached a final result—implementation would have to wait several years. Even so, those with a keen sense of smell still sensed that something was wrong and scrambled to climb out, exposing themselves to the light of day.

Saladin remained silent for a long time, while Turansha felt a chill run down his spine. He glanced at Saladin out of the corner of his eye and asked, "Will you punish them?"

“I will,” Saladin replied, but not now. He glanced outside the tent and stood up, knowing it was best not to stay in Turansha’s tent for too long to avoid being spied on by those with ulterior motives.

No matter how unworthy Turansha was, he was still his brother.

"Didn't you ever feel a flutter in your heart? Even for a moment?" Saladin asked.

“I am stupid, but not stupid enough to not see myself clearly,” Turansha said frankly. “Saladin, you are the leader of this pack of wolves. When the alpha wolf leads the pack, even the mediocre ones can take the opportunity to eat the fat and bloody flesh. But if one of them overestimates himself and climbs to the position of leader, what awaits him?”
It might not even have to wait for its first failed hunt; the other wolves in the pack would likely bare their teeth and force it out of the pack. Its ultimate fate would be either to be eaten by other wild animals or to die of hunger in the mountains.

Saladin shook his head subtly, perhaps that's why the prophet warned them not to underestimate anyone's relationships: "You are lucky, Turanshah."

"what?"

Saladin gave him no answer. He left Turanshah's tent and returned to his own quarters, which were higher than everyone else's. From above, one could see the endless army, half of which indeed belonged to the old forces.

The only forces that could put Saladin at ease were the Kurdish cavalry left to him by his uncle and the Mamluk army he had created himself. It could be said that he couldn't even fully trust the Turkmen. He was leading such a force to accomplish such a difficult task. But would it be a difficult task? Not necessarily. In many situations, even enemies can be used.

No matter where he comes from.

(End of this chapter)