Chapter 137: On The Road To Acre
“If you want to hire Christians’ soldiers, that bit of food alone isn’t enough. You need to be prepared. They are greedy by nature and never satisfied.”
The speaker was precisely the leader of this delegation that set out from Acre to Ayyarasa Road. When he stood in the hall of Holy Cross Castle, refined and courteous with a smile, he completely looked like a scholar.
Now? You couldn’t say he had changed appearance, but in impression, he was like a different person—cold, dangerous, and cruel. This was the true face a subject should have to earn a place under Sultan Nur al-Din.
“Of course I know it’s impossible.” Bosra’s officer Shams al-Din said. Others might feel fear, but he wouldn’t. After all, they were old friends for many years. He rose from the soft couch, poured a glass of chilled grape juice for the delegation leader Kamal, and another for himself.
This kind of wine… drink was best served in a glass cup that was nearly completely transparent. He drank a big gulp heartily, held it in his hand and twirled it around, appreciating the beautiful glow of the deep red liquid under the candlelight.
“I’ve already prepared a large sum of money. Their master—or rather, their master for this period, I hear the people of Ayyarasa Road call him ‘Little Saint.’ Does that mean he might not be that hard to deal with?”
Kamal sneered, “The original Godfrey was also called a saint by the Christians, but the Saracens he killed were as numerous as the grains of sand I’ve trodden on.”
“So he’s just a swindler.”
“Swindler? No, how could you think that? He lives up to his name. At least from what I’ve seen, we should all thank him. He didn’t let Sultan Nur al-Din’s remains lie in the mud, rotting amid maggots and stench. He cleansed it, wrapped it in white cotton cloth, and groomed the mustache and sideburns. And at that time, he didn’t know his father was in Nur al-Din’s fortress—”
Selecting female slaves from the Sultan’s Harem to send to the Saracens was handled entirely by the First Lady. The ladies of the harem were isolated from the outside. If anyone truly knew that female slave’s true identity, he couldn’t possibly control the victory or defeat at the Sea of Galilee or the Sultan’s life and death.
“But he’s not the kind of person to be swayed by people’s praise and recognition.” Kamal saw through his classmate’s thoughts at a glance. “He doesn’t regard these knights as his property. Rather, they are a gift to be returned intact—you know what he’s been doing during the days we’ve been here?”
“What?”
“Cooking for those Christians’ young lads.” Kamal said, “The money he spends every day is worth a nag horse. After all, there are several hundred young lads here.”
Can you imagine? He walks through the camp, making sure to look after every single one, not just the knights. Even the escorts, armed attendants, and servants receive his care. Anyone in the group who suffers unfair treatment can appeal to him. And after listening to all the witnesses’ words and observing all the evidence, he has never made an unjust judgment.
You also know the Christians’ three Knights have never been very harmonious. When they set out from Ayyarasa Road, there were still frequent quarrels, verbal or physical. But by the time they reached Nalessa, such voices had disappeared.
He is like a diligent sheepdog, guarding the ninety lambs that Baldwin IV entrusted to him perfectly safe. If nothing unexpected happens, I think he plans to bring these people back to Ayyarasa Road one by one without loss. His king values him greatly, and he repays with the same loyalty. What can you offer to make him change his mind?
But don’t even mention gold. Don’t say he’s a Christian. If any of us achieved this level, he wouldn’t easily abandon his previous hard-earned gains for some external possessions.”
“But I really need a strong force to exterminate the bandits between Damascus and Bosra.” Shams al-Din said bitterly. “You know, when Sultan Nur al-Din passed through here originally, I appealed to him, asking him to dispatch a force to secure the trade route and Bosra’s safety.”
But he refused. At that time, he was single-minded, only wanting to capture Ayyarasa Road.” Shams al-Din sat up—though Sultan Nur al-Din had refused him, he still showed due respect to this monarch worthy of people’s reverence.
After Nur al-Din’s great defeat, he also tried seeking aid from Acre and Mosul. But everyone was waiting for Sultan Nur al-Din’s funeral to end, then to claim they were his heir.
They were already armed and ready, sharpening weapons and feeding horses, but not to drive out the Christians, nor to exterminate bandits, but to contend for the power and territory left by Nur al-Din. They wouldn’t expend energy and troops on such trivial matters. But for the people of Bosra, it was a disaster overhead. Those bandits had become increasingly rampant. Not long ago, they even infiltrated the city, abducting some women and property.
“You useless thing!”
Kamal scolded mercilessly.
“I am just a mediocrity, not as good as you.” Shams al-Din retorted unwillingly. “But I think my situation now isn’t the worst. I have Bosra. Though Bosra compared to Damascus and Acre is like brass to gold, glass to gemstone.”
Though prosperous, not prosperous enough to be constantly coveted. But you…” He sized up his friend. “Do you really plan to return to Acre? As one of the ministers most valued by Nur al-Din before his death, they will inevitably scheme to fight over you.” He made a face. “I only hope that by then, you won’t be like the infant in that Solomon case, torn apart by three mothers who all dote on you.”
“Shut up. May Allah hear your words and cast you into Hell— is there anyone who curses a friend like this?”
Kamal interrupted him, but speaking of Nur al-Din’s three sons, he himself felt hope was slim.
He rolled his eyes at Shams al-Din but still gave him a method: “You can’t persuade Bethlehem’s Caesar, but you can persuade those knights. If they think they can easily exterminate those bandits—they will accept this work.”
“If they insist,” he thought, “Caesar probably won’t refuse their request either.”
“Will this really work?” Shams al-Din asked full of doubt. “Won’t he feel these knights are provoking him, or get angry because his authority isn’t respected? You’re not taking revenge on me, are you? They might whip me.”
“Think whatever you want.” Kamal said, “But I must remind you, we’re only staying in Bosra for one night, then heading to Damascus.”
