kingdom of nations

Chapter 281 Three Requests (Part 1)

The Saracens rushed toward the light desperately to stop him, but Baldwin's spear of St. George cleared the way for Cesar with a single blow—sometimes a shield isn't just for defense, and a spear isn't always for attack.

At this moment, their roles were reversed, but their cooperation remained seamless and perfectly in sync. In the midst of the stalemate, a huge gap suddenly appeared, and the Crusaders, of course, would not let this opportunity pass. In the end, the knights following Baldwin and Cesar practically stepped over the corpses of the Saracens.

The stairs led down into the city. Before they even set foot on the ground, they could see the simple fortifications standing at the other end of the street. Although simple, they were enough to hold them off for a while, especially since the archers and crossbowmen there were already ready to fire.

David just laughed. Although they had expended some effort to push the siege tower, with the saint's blessing, they could still continue fighting.

He even grabbed a Saracen who was still groaning and threw him at the archers, instantly knocking the two archers to their knees.

The other knights followed suit. They might not have been able to throw these men into the fortifications, but the screams of the wounded filled the Saracens with fear and anger. They had already nocked their arrows, but the arrows were of no use to the protection these Christian knights possessed. Some began to pray in despair, believing that the Damascus had somehow angered God, and that God had sent these infidels to punish them.

The morale of the Crusaders was greatly boosted; they even chanted the names of Baldwin and Cesar, eagerly anticipating a decisive and exhilarating attack led by them.

But just then, a fast horse galloped through the ruined streets. Who would rush into the battlefield at this time? Baldwin looked at the confused expressions on the Saracens' faces and knew that they were also clueless about this, but Cesar beside him whispered, "It's the governor of Damascus, Lazis."

Although Lazis was almost starving, he did leave a deep impression on Cesar, who recognized him at a glance. But why was he dressed in a white robe and a matching turban, leaving the fortified castle to come here?

"For peace!" Lazis shouted, though his voice was barely audible due to the torment he had endured for days.

A Saracen scholar hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward to help him up and poured healing power into his body so that he could speak his last words loudly and smoothly. But if he heard correctly—was the governor there to surrender?

Although they could still fight the Christians, everyone could see that the fall of Damascus was inevitable, and no one could change this fate unless God came.

But how could these Christians be willing to give up so easily? Damascus did not surrender without a fight like Cubsra; instead, they lost many brave knights and respectable soldiers. They would never let it go.

Moreover, Damascus's most important asset is not its people, but its location, fortresses, and walls—with these things, Damascus remains Damascus, the only difference being whether it is ruled by Christians or Saracens.

For businessmen, can they really refuse to stay, move around, and do business in this city because of this?

No, unless a Christian king issues a decree forbidding people of different faiths from entering the city, they would be arrested and executed, but that was impossible—the young King Arazarus was known for his kindness and benevolence.

Lazis slowly exhaled, looking at the two Christian knights standing at the front of the line. The one in gilded armor was none other than Baldwin, King of Arrassa, and the one beside him was undoubtedly the Knight of Bethlehem, Earl of Edessa, and Cesar, Lord of Cyprus.

When he was sent as an envoy to Apollo, he still retained some of the naivety of a young man, but now he looked completely like a warrior. Lazis had wondered whether this loyal knight could get the same response from his king, and now it seemed so.

Although one of their armors was gilded and the other silver-plated, they were completely identical in style and craftsmanship, and the lion heads on their breastplates were also the same size. The only difference was that Baldwin's breastplate looked straight ahead, while Cesar's looked to the side.

Each craftsman has a different style, and you can tell at a glance that these two suits of armor were made by the same person.

"The battle is not over yet. It is not the right time for you to come and pray for peace."

Baldwin spoke gently, though his breathing was a little rapid. After all, in the previous battle, they had fought against almost a hundred men, and even with the generous blessings of God and saints, they were still exhausted.

Baldwin didn't particularly like this Saracen. He knew Lazis, who, after becoming governor of Damascus, was merely a dissolute libertine. Cesare first met him in the bedroom of the infamous "Glamour Lady" Lyra, where he lay in the arms of a "Glamour Lady" and subjected Cesare to the most humiliating treatment.

Although Cesar didn't say it, someone still managed to spread the conversation, and it was eventually brought to Baldwin's ears by the merchant. The king even felt a pang of regret. If this man had only known how to cower and hide or run away, he could have captured him, humiliated him at will, and then beheaded him. But now... he might still be able to do so, but Cesar would definitely stop him.

Baldwin raised his hand and pointed to the sky. They had launched their attack at dawn, but now the sun was high in the sky and even showed faint signs of tilting westward. The shouts coming from all directions indicated that the Crusaders' victory was within reach.

"In that case, why should I negotiate with you, Governor of Damascus?"

“For Damascus,” Lazis said. “You might remember Shavar.”

Baldwin's face changed instantly. In that shameful scheme, he lost his king and his father, and Amalric I's failure was a regret for everyone, and a disgrace to the Flanders family.

Lazis, however, continued as if he hadn't seen it: "Why can't I do what Shavar did? Damascus has even more oil reserves than Fustat—and long before you arrived, I had already sent trusted men to bury oil-filled jars throughout the city. Once they are ignited and explode, even if you have already left Damascus, this place will become a brightest torch."

Fustat burned for three days and three nights; how long will it burn in Damascus? Perhaps even longer.

Everything you need will turn to charred ashes: gold, silk, castles, courtyards, temples... Even if you can conquer this place and rebuild, how much money will it take, slaves and armies?

No Saracen would stand by and watch you drive a single nail into this place.

"Oh, you doubt me, thinking I lack the courage? But why wouldn't I? Shawar's original reputation—no, he had no reputation at all. He was infamous; almost no one believed him except Caliph al-Atid. He was despised and scorned, and he knew it all too well. But after he took your King Amalric I with a great fire, people believed he ascended to heaven to stand alongside the Prophet. So, do you think I would fear such an outcome? Although my previous reputation may not have been very good either…"

They all thought he was wasting the medical books and knowledge left to him by his ancestors, but he had become the governor of Damascus, and he had to do what a governor was supposed to do. "I know you may not believe it, or perhaps you do, but your generals won't..."

Lazis suddenly gave a strange smile. "Listen."

Then people heard a faint tremor coming from the direction of Caesar's Gate, and they looked in that direction. Sure enough, they saw flames and smoke shooting into the sky. "Who is in charge there? Is it the Knights Templar, the Grand Duke of Antioch, or the Count of Tripoli, or perhaps one of your trusted ministers? It doesn't matter, they have already seen it, so they know that what I said was true."

You can now send a messenger to tell them that they can have either a whole Damascus or a handful of black ash; it's their choice.

The entire battlefield seemed to come to a subtle standstill, but out of inertia, groans of pain, the clash of swords, and the crackling of fire burning wood and stone could still be heard from some places. Saracens and Christians stared at each other with hatred, yet they had no choice but to obey the orders of the governor or the king. They gripped their swords tightly and slowly retreated until they maintained a distance that could be kept or changed at any moment.

Some daring soldiers took the opportunity to drag away their comrades who were still able to groan or whose bodies had already fallen silent; this was the case for both Crusaders and Saracens.

Unlike Emirs, Sultans, and Caliphs, Christian armies were never ruled by a single person. Even the kings of Arazari had to listen to the opinions of their vassals, generals, and allies.

Neither Count Raymond of Tripoli, nor Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch, nor Patriarch Heraclius, Grand Master of the Knights Templar and the Order of the Good, raised any objections. (He arrived in the third week after the siege.)

They came here for Damascus, and of course they couldn't just stand by and watch the city turn into charred rubble. Although being forced to accept the Saracens' extortion made them extremely unhappy, it was still better than welcoming a second Foster. To be honest, although they often cursed Shavar as a devil who was good at playing tricks and a rat that deserved to go to hell, his tricks did indeed give many Crusader generals nightmares.

As night fell, Lazis was taken to the Crusader tent. The Crusader generals and ministers looked him over with curiosity, their eyes filled with contempt and disdain. Lazis was originally just a lazy playboy who did nothing but live a life of leisure. He had no trace of the qualities of a warrior or a ruler, and he was not even as good as Shamsid of Busra.

People watched him, chuckling and whispering. He went directly to the King of Arrasar, showing neither fear nor obsequiousness, which earned him respect.

"You can state your request now."

Lazis didn't rush to speak. By the flickering firelight, he took in the faces of the knights and lords in the tent. Compared to the unknown Lazis, everyone present was renowned. He also saw Cesar, who was sitting next to Baldwin. Their seats were very close, almost close enough to whisper to each other. Lazis' heart pounded, but his face remained expressionless.

“I have three,” he hesitated for a moment, then said humbly, as these people requested, “three requests.”

"Please tell me."

“Damascus can be handed over to you intact.”

But my first request is that you guarantee the safety of the 65,000 inhabitants of Damascus, who can offer their money, livestock, land and houses, or pay for their ransom.

But I request that your soldiers refrain from humiliating and slaughtering them.

Will they leave? Or will they stay in Damascus?

"Most of them will remain in Damascus, Your Majesty. They are almost all merchants, artisans, and farmers. They will continue to run the city for you and will pay you taxes as before."

Are they willing to convert?

This question made Baldwin subconsciously look at Heraclius, who was sitting to his left. The patriarch, dressed in white robes and wearing a tall crown, simply waved his finger to indicate that he had not intentionally called someone out to ask the question. Although their teacher was the patriarch of Arazarus, he was, in fact, a worldly man who coveted profit and power, just like Amalric I before him, rather than a monk.

While converting pagans would indeed be an honor, he was already the Patriarch of Arazari. What use would it be to him? Would the Pope in Rome be so moved that he would relinquish his position to him? Of course not. Therefore, he would not do such a futile effort.

But that priest was indeed from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and might be connected to the Gerald family. The Gerald family was also a problem, Baldwin thought to himself, but did not show it. "They can convert if they want, or they will have to pay us three times the poll tax if they don't."

Fifty years ago, it was indeed common for the Crusaders to kill all the infidels and force the survivors to convert when they first set foot on this unfamiliar land.

But now—regardless of how many heretics there are on Arrassa Road, any Crusader nation or city is filled with people of all kinds of faiths. Their previous cruelty was merely to gain a foothold there, but now that they have their own territory, there is no need to be so harsh on heretics and incite riots as a result.

"We are willing to pay taxes."

"Then I can also promise you that your temple may be demolished, your priests may be executed, imprisoned, or exiled. Those who wish to follow them can leave with them as long as they pay the ransom, but those who remain must abide by my laws."

"You may do as you please."

(End of this chapter)