Chapter 157: Reunion
A black flag with a white eagle. When this banner first appeared in the open wasteland near Damascus, no one paid it any mind, nor did anyone believe in it; people were filled with doubt and speculation.
They would never have imagined that in the following twenty years, the owner of this banner would traverse almost the entire Arabian Peninsula. Neither the vast territories of the Seljuk Turks, nor the descendants of the Zengid dynasty, nor the dreaded Assassins, nor the battle-hardened Crusaders, nor even the remnants of the Fatimid Dynasty could shake his throne.
Later generations, upon seeing this banner, could not help but feel respect, even his enemies included. This was not only because the owner of this banner was a devout believer, a wise monarch, and a valiant warrior, but also because he was a benevolent sage, sparing far more lives than he took.
Some would even say that without Saladin, there would be no Holy King afterward.
Although this statement caused much murmuring, they also had to admit that it was King Amalric I of Ayyarasa Road who first unearthed that gemstone from the sand, but it was Sultan Saladin who sculpted it, set it in a crown, and presented it to the world.
Of course, at this time, no one, including Saladin himself, knew what a great miracle the Christian knight they were watching would achieve.
They simply stood on a hill not far from the battlefield, looking down upon the sandy plain that was about to fall into fierce combat once more.
Saladin remained silent, while several of his more intimate generals began to whisper to each other strangely. His nephew even couldn’t help but ask, “Did he fail to recognize your banner?”
It was indeed a new banner. He looked up, and even in Egypt, Saladin had never unfurled it. It was only when they arrived in Damascus that Saladin looked at it. If one observed closely, one could see that on the black banner, the white eagle, with its wings spread wide, was different from any that people had used on coats of arms and banners before.
It faced enemies and friends head-on, its wings spread very wide, wingtips pointing to the sky, and its talons striking the ground. Those familiar with falcons could easily tell that this was the final moment when the raptor was about to seize its prey.
Saladin gently stroked the silver ring on his hand.
His ring bore the image of a similar eagle. If that child had pressed his silver ring onto paper to make an imprint, he would surely have recognized the origin of this banner at a glance. Would he? Given that child’s meticulousness and caution, he would. Although he would subsequently carefully put away the ring and burn the paper with the imprint, he would never easily forget.
There was a reason for the generals around Saladin to ask such a question. In their opinion, this group was exhausted and parched, having already clashed with some of Sultan Nur al-Din’s most troublesome Oghuz Turks. They had also seen those Crusader knights unsparingly trample precious silk under their horses’ hooves, using greed to hinder the enemy’s actions, and hanging shattered copper mirrors on themselves, using sunlight to turn the enemy’s advantage into a disadvantage. These were indeed commendable and marvelous ideas.
But their doing this, instead of engaging in direct combat, also indicated from another perspective that they might be at their last gasp. Their leader had to ensure the knights’ stamina was preserved to the greatest extent, and he had indeed succeeded. However, the enemies were not just these; another group of pursuing Turks numbered over a thousand.
They were now only three to four hundred strong, at a disadvantage in every aspect. And now, reinforcements they could rely on had arrived. Should they not turn around and rush towards them, begging for protection?
Even if they did so, they might become Saladin’s captives, but it would be better than losing their lives under the blades of these barbarous Turks.
But to their surprise, not only did this group not approach them and dismount to beg for mercy, but they raised their banner again. Their young leader drew his long sword and raised it to the sky, the sunlight focusing on the bright tip of the sword, as if a new sun had risen.
Those knights also showed no signs of vulgarity or cowardice. They followed him without hesitation, without wavering, charging into the dense enemy ranks.
“Are they mad?” the Saracen general from before questioned. “They don’t have to do this at all!”
In the wars between Saracens and Crusaders, becoming each other’s prisoners was not considered a humiliation.
Some Crusader generals even took pride in having been imprisoned by the Saracens. A king, duke, or count might spend many years in infidel prisons, like Jocelyn II, Count of Edessa, his son Jocelin III, Duke of Antioch Bohemond, and his stepfather Reynald, all of whom were prisoners of the Saracens. Reynald had not yet returned to Antioch.
Earlier, Amalric I had also angrily executed twelve Templar Knights. Do not think that knights who joined the order and became “soldiers of God” were truly so pious that they did not fear the threat of death. Perhaps most of them were, but some would shamelessly grovel before their enemies, begging only for a sliver of life.
Especially now that joining the Knights Templar had become a lucrative business.
Putting aside the young man’s long future for now, he had recently regained his status and position. Even though the County of Edessa no longer existed, he was the cousin of the King of Ayyarasa Road. By virtue of this relationship, he could at least become a minister with real power in the future, and he already had his own fief – Bethlehem. Although Bethlehem was small, it was prosperous.
Given this, why should he pay such a heavy price for temporary humiliation?
“If he really did that…” a voice replied. But it was not Saladin. It was Kamal, who looked weary, who answered him, but he did not continue, leaving the general utterly bewildered.
They were discovered by Saladin’s army earlier than Caesar and the others. At first, they were both terrified and desperate, thinking they had been discovered by another army from Acre. The other party was also surprised. Looking at their attire, age, and appearance, they did not look like farmers or shepherds, so why were they gathered behind a sand dune, waiting blankly – as if awaiting some outcome.
Fortunately, within this small group, there was someone who had seen Kamal. He called out Kamal’s name and learned the identities of the others from the minister.
He immediately turned back to inform Saladin. Saladin’s arrival at this time was partly for Kamal and several ministers he had long favored.
From Kamal, he also learned the current situation in Acre, which made him hesitate.
“How many troops did you bring?” Kamal asked.
“Three thousand,” Saladin replied. This number was very delicate, positioned between self-preservation and advancement.
But after hearing Kamal’s advice, Saladin ultimately decided to temporarily abandon the idea of advancing to Damascus and even Acre.
Syria would soon descend into chaos, with everyone restless. As long as he had some money and troops, the First Lady and Sultan Nur al-Din’s youngest son, Salih, would not be able to hold Acre. They would likely be driven out of the castle soon.
But this did not mean that the next person to ascend the throne of the Sultan would rest easy. He would face scrutiny from all sides, hatred, and continuous attacks. Everyone would want to reach out and pull him down, repeating his fate.
“But Saladin, you are different from them. You and your uncle already have Egypt, although…”
“Ilghazi is dead,” Saladin replied calmly. “Perhaps you don’t know yet, but just before I left, my uncle Ilghazi ascended to heaven due to a sudden illness to meet Allah. I am now the Grand Vizier of Caliph Atid of the Fatimid Dynasty.”
“Perhaps I should offer my congratulations.” After a moment of stunned silence, Kamal said quickly. Although the remark was rather impolite, he was temporarily unable to shed his identity as a subject of Sultan Nur al-Din.
And from Sultan Nur al-Din’s perspective, Saladin was an unrepentant traitor.
However, Saladin was not one to quibble over such minor matters. Moreover, he admitted that his and his uncle’s actions indeed constituted betrayal. He did not wish to deny this, and Kamal’s analysis of the situation had convinced him. Although he was already the Grand Vizier of Caliph Atid, if he remained in Syria and participated in this melee, it was hard to say whether Atid and the remnants of the Fatimid Dynasty around him might harbor some unwelcome ambitions.
Given this, leaving Syria, using the Sultan’s throne as bait, and letting these hungry hyenas fight amongst themselves to deplete their strength might also be a good option.
They originally intended to return directly to Damascus, but Kamal had not forgotten Caesar. Although he did not know where Caesar’s battle with the Turks was, it should not be far from where they were discovered. Saladin’s cavalry soon found them.
To his reply, Saladin merely smiled. Indeed, if that young man had truly led his men to surrender to him, although he might have forgiven them and allowed them to return to Ayyarasa Road, whether for Sultan Nur al-Din or for himself, he would undoubtedly have been disappointed.
Regardless of the noble reason, whether for the peace of his parents or for the safety of his subordinates, these reasons could not convince Saladin.
Perhaps it was precisely because he rarely held such high expectations for someone, let alone a Christian, that he wished Caesar could forever remain as pure, steadfast, and flawless as when they first met. Although he knew this was also a demanding request, he was convinced he would give corresponding rewards.
Compared to Christians, the Saracen courts were never lacking in foreign figures. Even if they still had to adhere to their own faith, they could still become officials or generals. The Sultan would even allow them to have their own priests and churches within the city. In this regard, the Sultans and Caliphs of the Saracens were far more tolerant than the kings of the Christians.
The general who had asked the question understood Kamal’s meaning and couldn’t help but take a deep breath.
The fact that he could come to Saladin’s side indicated that he had gained Saladin’s favor. Kamal’s words initially made him jealous, and then his heart pounded wildly. Thinking of the price that Christian knight would have to pay for this favor, he shuddered. This was not asking for a person at all, he murmured to himself, and his companion gasped in a low voice.
They expected to see a group of cornered warriors, wounded or even dead from a moment of pride. But they only saw lightning. This lightning seemed to gallop across the dark sea surface, or pierce through the dense jungle. Its sharp blade slashed through the Turkish ranks, and where it went, Turkish heads and limbs flew like schools of fish, or fell like ripe fruit.
Leading this lightning was the young man favored by Saladin, and the knights who followed him had miraculously not fallen behind. Although the distance was too great to see their faces clearly, Saladin and the others seemed to have seen their clenched jaws, wide-open eyes, and tense muscles. Even just watching from the sidelines, many warriors tightly clenched their fists, almost rising upright from their horses to leap into the battlefield swallowed by that vortex of death.
The scene that the Turkish soldiers had not seen before repeated itself. Their usual tactics were completely ineffective at this moment. Their horses could not outrun the Christian knights blessed by Caesar. Losing their speed advantage, the Turks in leather or mail armor could not withstand the knights’ assault. They wailed and fell in defeat.
Even though they tried their best to organize a counterattack, the leading Christian knight was so vigilant and perceptive that as soon as they gathered, he would immediately descend with his snow-white Arabian horse, scattering them and trampling them.
This was not a large or important battle, yet it made the onlookers so tense they could barely breathe. How did they do it? This question arose in everyone’s minds: a small group, at a disadvantage in numbers, strength, and provisions, had instead devoured a large pursuing force. It was even evident that in the later stages of the battle, these Turks had completely lost their will to fight and wanted to flee, yet were uncontrollably drawn in and annihilated again and again.
The entire battle lasted for over an hour. When the battle finally concluded, everyone found their bodies so stiff they could barely move, their limbs numb, and the breath held tightly in their chests could finally be exhaled.
Saladin also felt a sense of relaxation after the tension. His smile deepened, and on the chaotic battlefield, Caesar looked up. He indeed recognized the white eagle on the black flag, unlike any eagle emblem he had ever seen. He also guessed that the visitor was Saladin. After all, with Sultan Nur al-Din dead, and the powers vying for position and waiting for the right moment, how could someone like Saladin, ambitious and far-sighted, simply wait idly in Cairo, Egypt?
Even to understand the situation after Nur al-Din’s death, he would surely have to come in person. Moreover, Kamal had asked them to bring these ministers out of Acre but had not specified where they were going. This might be out of caution, but Caesar felt it was more likely because he had made an arrangement with someone, and who else could it be but him?
If Kamal could truly tolerate fools, he would not have fled Acre in such a sorry state.
Saladin spurred his horse down the hill, reining it in a few hundred paces from the battlefield. Caesar waved off Geoffrey’s escort and rode alone towards Saladin.
Saladin saw the young knight bow slightly on his horse to salute him. He extended his hand, only to see the other person suddenly lean forward and fall from his horse.
