Chapter 152: Breakthrough
“Where are the people you brought?”
Faced with this question, Kamal, who was always called the Old Fox by his political enemies, couldn’t help but be stunned for a moment. Indeed, in Acre, only a few people could be sharper than him, but not necessarily more decisive. The events after Sultan Nur al-Din’s coffin was first carried out of the South Gate of Apollonia Castle had already given him an ominous premonition.
Something like this extremely solemn and grand event—actually not difficult to handle—they had scholars and scripture, and Nur al-Din had made arrangements for himself even before his death.
Even so, they still made a mess of it—to know that at such times, no matter how unruly a Vizier or Emir was, they would hold their breath, bow their heads and obey. This was not only respect for the monarch and the deceased, but also to avoid being questioned and attacked by the masses.
And the incident that occurred during the first funeral procession—Kamal did not see much human interference in it, but even if it was not a conspiracy, as one of the heirs, they should have thought that given Sultan Nur al-Din’s prestige among the people, in the present influenced inevitably by past traditions as well as the Isaacites and Christians, such a thing was possible.
Not only were they completely unprepared before, but when the signs first appeared, they were still as dull as pigs, at a loss, even only caring about their own safety. If on the battlefield, he had no doubt they would abandon their father’s coffin, abandon the people and army, and flee.
The funeral the next day disappointed him even more. The one who stepped forward to correct the mistake was actually the Grand Vizier and the Grand Scholar, not any of the three princes. If one said they were still young and lacked experience, what about the King of Ayyarasa Road? What about the Young Knight who came with him? They had just defeated tens of thousands of Sultan Nur al-Din’s troops not long ago.
Could these two useless wastes really lead the Saracens against the Crusaders in the future?
When Amalric I died during the expedition, Kamal had even rejoiced over it. He thought this was another powerful proof that the Saracens had received Allah’s protection—after all, Nur al-Din was already old. While Amalric I was in his prime, his death not only led to the failure of the Crusaders’ second expedition to Egypt, but also foreshadowed the decline of Ayyarasa Road and other Christian countries.
After all, his heir, a young man just barely of age, had contracted leprosy. Even if he received the Prophet’s revelation and Allah’s blessing, his condition had not gone away. How many more years could he live? Or could he really lead the army to fight the Saracens? This undoubtedly gave the Saracens after Nur al-Din’s death a chance to breathe.
He didn’t want to say it this way, but he had to. He had even thought that among Nur al-Din’s three sons, there was no need for another Sultan like the Light of Faith（ Nur al-Din）; as long as it was a ruler who maintained the status quo, keeping the current situation would do. He was only in his fifties now and could quietly wait for the new Sultan to grow up and then assist him.
Unfortunately, those two princes were indeed quite useless outwardly, but inwardly they were as cunning and ruthless as jackals. Their methods were very crude, simply dividing people into usable and unusable categories, and disposing of the unusable ones.
If you questioned them, they might even say righteously that their father Nur al-Din did the same. But they didn’t think that Sultan Nur al-Din was a monarch publicly recognized as brave and wise. As long as he was alive, even after a great defeat at the Sea of Galilee, no Emir or Vizier would dare to defy his will.
Look at that pair of Kurdish uncle and nephew. Ilghazi and Saladin were also high in power and illustrious in military achievements in Syria—Ilghazi was the Governor of Damascus. Even with such authority and merits, after Ilghazi became the Grand Vizier of Caliph Atid of the Fatimid Dynasty, he still did not dare to appear before Nur al-Din.
They knew very well that if Nur al-Din saw them, he would order his soldiers to capture them and execute them with extreme punishment, and not a single soldier in their army would raise a weapon against the Sultan for them.
What those two princes saw was only the seemingly brilliant but illusory glory floating on the water’s surface. They were dazzled by it, yearning for it, yet unaware of the turbulent whirlpools and profound meanings hidden beneath the surface. Ironically, because they were sons of Nur al-Din, whether out of genuine support or wanting to use them as puppets, there were still not a few people supporting them.
Kamal knew that if he was willing to lower his head, choose one of these two idiots, kneel to them, kiss the hem of their robes, he could not only preserve his life and family, but also possibly rise further, perhaps even become the Grand Vizier. But just thinking about having to clean up the messes for the “Sultan” on the throne countless times in the future made him feel nauseous.
His decision was right.
If he had chosen the Eldest Prince or the Second Prince, he would now have to violate his conscience to deal with those former colleagues. They might not be friends, even enemies, but in any case, those who would be seen as thorns in the side by the two princes could only be the most upright ministers and generals.
Some among them were not originally in Acre（ serving as governors and officials in other cities）, but had returned here only to take the final step of loyalty. They probably didn’t expect that just for refusing the princes’ recruitment, they would now face vicious persecution—or they might have thought they would be dismissed or exiled, but not that they would lose their lives.
But obviously, someone around the princes was instigating it, perhaps those vultures waiting to feast on their flesh.
And Kamal being able to gather these people so completely was also because they had already been imprisoned in the prison of Apollonia Castle. Even so, several overly staunch ministers had already been killed by the guards in conflicts or had resolutely chosen to follow Nur al-Din to the underworld.
And Kamal didn’t even have time to mourn them—he first sent his family out of Acre, then used all his means to rescue these people from the prison. Fortunately, at this time, the followers of the Eldest Prince and Second Prince were still fighting each other in important places like the King’s Hall, Throne Hall, and the palaces of the Second Lady and Third Lady, temporarily ignoring them.
The castle was already in chaos, with people in panic. At this time, gold became the most persuasive thing—after all, at this moment, the outcome between the two princes was undecided, and no one knew who would become Sultan. If Kamal talked to those guards about promotion or favors, they would only sneer, but gold was different. Gold could buy many things, especially when many people were not optimistic about the future.
——————
While the Christian knights excitedly rushed into the adjacent palace to collect gold and jewels, Kamal brought those survivors in. Caesar glanced hastily and found that they were almost all men, some young, some old. Some ministers had completely white hair and beards, but their spirits seemed good.
The biggest problem was those who had been tortured. Caesar saw some obvious mutilations—he knew that among the Saracens there were also people with extraordinary abilities, called scholars. Among the Saracens, treatment and combat were not strictly separated; one person could be a doctor or a warrior: “Are there any ‘scholars’ among you?”
“Yes,” Kamal said. Without these people, he wouldn’t have been able to bring out those who had been tortured. Damaged limbs couldn’t be restored, but at least the bleeding had been stopped, and they could move on their own.
“Once we start galloping, we might not stop again.” Caesar reminded Kamal. Kamal nodded silently. Obtaining forgiveness and aid from these Christian knights was already an unexpected joy.
Before stepping through this door, he had thought it would take a lot of time, using his glib tongue to persuade this young knight. In any case, the latter should have come full of joy to meet his father and mother, only to face such bad news.
What Kamal brought him were the remains of two relatives, not a favor, but compensation. He was not a fool and had no thought of bargaining with it; he only hoped this could slightly soften the blow of this despairing news—and he held this hopeful thought because along the way, he had observed that Caesar had always been very rational and calm.
Even if he flew into a rage over his parents’ deaths, Kamal was prepared to extinguish his hatred with his own blood, only begging him to quickly remember his promise to the Christian King Baldwin IV—as important as the deceased were, more important were he himself and those knights.
He had never expected that Caesar would make a decision so quickly and accurately.
Caesar had now cast all complicated thoughts behind him, whether the death of Count Joscelin III of Edessa and his wife, or the Saracens’ plea for help, or the arrogance of Sultan Nur al-Din’s sons.
Although he had not experienced it, he had seen it countless times in history books—this kind of explosive, instantly white-hot power struggle could shake a city or even a nation at any time. And they were heathens, enemies, unlikely to receive protection from any side, and might even become targets of all. What they needed to do now was to leave here as quickly as possible; other things could be dealt with slowly later.
He had to thank Kamal. If Kamal had brought only that sad news, he would have had only two choices. The first was to risk total annihilation searching the palace complex, nine times the size of Ayyarasa Road, for two bodies without exact locations or obvious features; the second was to abandon everything and leave immediately.
If so, upon returning to Ayyarasa Road, he would face accusations from countless people, even those knights who escaped unscathed would resent him, because he regarded them as cowards, preferring to endure such humiliation to bring them out of Acre.
Now Kamal had solved this biggest problem for him. The only choice they had, which they must make, was to leave immediately.
This place was about to become a mill of flesh and blood.
Caesar agreed with Kamal’s thinking. He did not believe Nur al-Din’s two sons could control their Emirs and Fatah. Their soldiers could not be constrained by public opinion and law like soldiers a thousand years later, even with strict discipline. When they saw women, gold and silver, and silk, would they still remember?
Once plundering, rape, and killing began, the evil thoughts in people’s hearts would be amplified without limit. At that time, let alone the sons of the Sultan—even if Sultan Nur al-Din returned to the world and stood before them, they might swing a sword at him.
Just as everything was nearly prepared, the knights had also returned. Kamal looked over and saw they had truly followed Caesar’s orders, taking only valuable jewels and gold coins, none bringing a woman. Instead, a few bold female slaves followed behind them, appealing to the knights to take them away.
But how iron-hearted these knights were. Facing their entreaties, they even drew their swords. They did not immediately fall in pools of blood only because the knights were preparing to depart and did not want extra trouble.
“If I were you, I’d hide as soon as possible.” Kamal said, but only this hasty sentence.
He had brought about forty people, including himself making forty-one. It was not hard for the Christian knights to take them; half the escorts or knights could carry one more on their horses.
Though this meant transferring some of their spoils to other knights or packhorses.
The Saracens were somewhat nervous. Even if they were not Fatah before, they had dealt with more than one Fatah. Of course they knew Christian knights valued their personal assets as much as Saracen soldiers. Moreover, their sacrifice was not to rescue Christians, but a group of former enemies. To their surprise, not a single knight protested or refused; their absolute obedience made the subsequent actions as smooth and swift as flowing clouds and waters.
When Kamal was pulled onto the horse by Caesar, less than an hour had passed. He even felt somewhat dazed.
The young knight in front of him bowed his head. Caesar prayed softly, and then people saw silver melting or stars pouring down, a brilliant river threading through them, cloaking every Christian knight in chainmail like dragon scales.
The Sultan’s trusted minister turned to look around and found many doing as he was. Yes, without exception, in this serene courtyard, a miracle was happening. They had never seen such a magnificent sight. How Allah favored this beautiful young man—this was a glory even Sultan Nur al-Din had not had.
