Chapter 91: Fustat
Caesar certainly knew that just because of such a short oral message, leaving the Royal Palace privately without anyone knowing to meet a Saracen he had only seen once was a highly irrational act, even bordering on foolishness.
Not to mention the things that noble lady Elena’s group had encountered before—just a few days ago, while they were besieging Fustat, a knight fell to the ground during patrol because his horse was startled, his horse immediately galloped into a valley and vanished in an instant, he anxiously chased after it, servants and escorts followed closely behind, the distance between them was perhaps only a few hundred feet—but when they arrived, the only thing there was the horse constantly whining, covered in blood, and his headless corpse.
But he only hesitated for an instant, he could of course immediately stand up and return to the noisy hall, but he could guarantee that as soon as he turned around, this eunuch and the people behind him would instantly vanish without a trace.
And for this person to deliver the message to him at this time, in this place, how could he possibly be an ordinary person?
He decided to take a risk.
He still remembered the silver ring that Saracen had given him—he had asked Heraclius and Baldwin, they said that Saracens, especially warriors, would not have any ornaments on their bodies, such as earrings, necklaces, bracelets… but they would often wear a silver ring.
Because when their Prophet Muhammad needed to correspond with foreign kings, someone told the Prophet that foreign kings would not read letters without seals, so the Prophet made a gold ring engraved with “Muhammad is the messenger of Allah”.
But what he did not expect was that people followed suit and made gold rings, the Prophet saw them and threw away his gold ring, saying, I will never wear one again, but due to the need for seals in official business, the Prophet had a new silver ring made, still engraved with “Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.”
After his death, Caliph Abu wore this ring, then Caliph Umar wore this ring, and finally Uthman wore this ring. But later he accidentally dropped this ring into a well, and even after people drained the well, it could not be found, so he had to have a new silver ring made and wore it on his hand.
From then on, all Saracen men only wore silver rings on their fingers, they did not wear gold ones, because that disgusted the Prophet, nor did they wear copper or iron ones, because those were materials symbolizing Hell.
These silver rings often served as these Saracens’ seals, just like their most revered Prophet Muhammad, and in their faith, an eagle often represented power and dominion—just like the Eagle’s Nest.
The person qualified to wear this ring could not possibly be just a merchant or craftsman, Caesar had even vaguely guessed who this person was—with respect to this person, he now was merely an insignificant nobody.
If the other party could come to see him alone, what qualification did he have not to go meet him alone? His weight was originally much greater than Caesar’s.
And in Caesar’s heart, a thought was also surging: since he came to the Crusades’ forces, all he heard were irritable complaints, brutal shouts, hateful screams, and all he witnessed were ugly crimes, vile betrayals, painful struggles—but he could not confide in anyone, who could understand him? And even if they were willing to listen to his confessions, with just the strength of a few people, what could they change?
And that Saracen who had discussed the good and evil of human nature with him, what thoughts did he have?
He silently followed this little eunuch through a fig grove, the grove filled with the sweet fragrance bursting from ripe figs, and underfoot still soft plump fruits could be stepped on, they burst gently with popping sounds—such fragility almost tempting one to step on more.
After that, they came to a dock, rowed a small boat upstream along the river, the banks still endless fig trees, moonlight filtering through dense branches and leaves onto them, on the boat, on the water waves, startled fish kept leaping up, even jumping onto their boat, Caesar casually grabbed one and found the fish covered in leopard-like patterns.
“Leopard fish,” the little eunuch glanced and said indifferently: “From Gambia, three gold coins each.”
Caesar let go of his hand, three gold coins fell into the water.
If he were Caliph Atid, he would exchange all these things for soldiers’ equipment, siege defenses, and the third city wall, or at the very least, he would bestow all these things on the generals sent by Nur al-Din.
They went ashore, then walked a long way surrounded by pomegranate trees and myrrh trees—even if Caesar returned immediately, someone would discover he had been missing for a long time.
Then they saw that person.
His attire was still no different from when they had seen him at the Market back then, no jewels, no silk, only thick cotton, dull chainmail, a headscarf wrapped around his hair and a wide black robe, he had tied a leather belt tightly, hanging a scimitar and a long sword, on his finger only a silver ring gleaming.
A pure red Arabian horse stood beside him, aside from that, the only person with them was the little eunuch who had brought Caesar here, and as soon as he saw this man, he immediately prostrated himself in a grand salute and quietly withdrew.
“May I know who you are?” Caesar steadied himself and asked.
“Saladin. Saladin bin Ayyub, you can call me Saladin.” The man said, Caesar sighed softly, indeed it was this person, after all heaven was stingy, the treasures bestowed upon the human world were not abundant to begin with, let alone in such a place.
“I found this on your servant, did you draw it?” Saladin said, he showed Caesar a trimmed piece of parchment, Caesar saw at once it was part of those discarded drawings.
He thought Longinus had burned them all, unexpectedly he had kept one piece, but this parchment had no signature or handwriting, no one could trace it back to him based on such a small piece of paper.
But sometimes judgment does not require evidence.
“Yes,” Caesar did not want to conceal it, he raised his head to look at Saladin: “The Saracen that Longinus encountered was also you.”
“It was me,” Saladin said: “I heard fighting there and went to see. Unexpectedly what I saw was—a Christian fighting three of Christ’s knights for a Saracen girl, nearly losing his life there—the girl was not saved, but the favor she received still exists and has not been repaid, even if the one who helped was a Christian.
He passed in front of me, so I saved him.” Saladin asked with interest, “And what about you? Did you see those oxen passing in front of you?”
“I saw them,” Caesar answered calmly and composedly, “and I saved them too.”
“I heard.” A satisfied smile appeared on Saladin’s face: “The people of Bilbeis told me what happened to them.” He would not question Caesar why he did not stop those knights’ actions, return the residents’ property, allow them to stay in the city instead of being expelled, nor accuse or doubt why Caesar did not repeat in Fustat what he had done in Bilbeis?
No one can snatch blood food from the mouth of a starving lion without preparing to be torn apart and devoured by it.
And this courage, this ability, not to mention Caesar who was now just a novice knight, even Baldwin or Amalric I could not do it: “You did well, you exerted your share of effort.”
“Then may I ask a question?” Caesar asked calmly: “Have you never left Fustat?”
“Or rather our army, yes, we did not leave. Although our Sultan Nur al-Din ordered us back to Damascus, we did not—well, or rather we did not set out immediately, and if you say leaving Fustat, we did leave, otherwise how could your King come here?”
Caesar only felt fear gripping his heart, Saladin and his uncle Ilghazi had essentially handed over this city, but why would they do that? If they had not abandoned their ambitions and power, one must know that once Christians entered the city, recapturing Fustat would no longer be something a few thousand Saracen cavalry could accomplish…
He looked at Saladin, but saw only a mocking smile and eyes full of mercy, a strange thought rose in his heart and could not be suppressed, he recalled the bizarre scenes after entering this city. At that time he thought—those residents were either killed or had hidden away.
But now it seemed…
“You bribed the people around Shawwar.”
“No, no need.” Saladin said, “Sometimes we really cannot underestimate those vicious despicable fellows,” he nodded affirmatively, seeing the child in front of him guess the truth after just a moment’s thought, then indescribable fear drowned his beautiful face.
What kind of person was Shawwar?
It could be said that from Christians to Saracens, from kings to the lowliest servants, no one thought highly of him, he was servile, fawning and shameless, he could invite wolves in for his own selfish gain, and after inviting them in, scheme to have tigers devour the wolves—he was shortsighted, reckless and rash, casually promising prices he could never pay.
He fooled Amalric I and also fooled Nur al-Din far away in Syria, he casually manipulated these high-status figures like chess pieces on a chess board, he controlled Caliph Atid, everyone knew this youth was just a doll he played with in his hands, whatever he told him to do, he would do it.
But such a person, could he actually do that? How dare he do that? Did he not care about his own life and future?
“Why care? He is after all a Saracen, the Grand Vizier of the Fatimid Dynasty. His vileness and baseness were all for this position. Without status and power, he would have lost all hope—you know Christian kings have no position of Grand Vizier, and even if they did, they would not give it to him.
Since that is so,” a smile floated on Saladin’s lips, “to sink into Hell together with those cruel despicable Christians would also be quite enjoyable.”
Caesar abruptly turned his head back, he stared at the distant palace, it was still plunged in darkness, only a few places lit with lights, it looked so peaceful, birdsong and moving singing voices floating over the calm lake surface.
He immediately wanted to turn and leave, Saladin called him back, “Are you sure?” he said: “You leave inexplicably and return suddenly, and by the time you arrive, things have already happened, you can do nothing, recover nothing, and your abrupt departure and abrupt appearance will make people suspect if you are involved in this matter, can your Prince protect you?
I could even say, if he and you luckily survive, among those questioning you, might there not be him?
Do you want to see his eyes, that look of disappointment and doubt, perhaps he will personally order you imprisoned, awaiting you will be torture and death.”
He waited, but Caesar said nothing, he swiftly jumped up and rushed back the way he came, watching his receding back Saladin was silent, not knowing whether in relief or regret, soon after, the little eunuch who had brought Caesar before him emerged from the shadows, asking puzzledly, “Lord, why did you not keep him by your side?
I have seen him, he truly is a good person, though he is still so young, so weak, he still often frowns in worry, sighing for those innocent victims, do not demand anything of him, his origins are humble, almost like mine, though he is Baldwin’s attendant, he has not yet gained any power.
People praise his beauty, praise his good deeds, but at the same time subtly despise his origins, his words are frivolous and powerless.”
“Those Christians are always so greedy.” The little eunuch continued, “They see a gemstone fallen to the ground, pick it up, clean it, and set it in a ring, a crown, but whenever they admire his beauty, feel the miracle bestowed by Allah, they still say, alas, if only he had not fallen to the ground.
Is this not a very foolish behavior?
An ordinary stone, even if from birth placed on a sacred altar, remains a stone, will not suddenly turn into a gemstone. If stripped of those foreign things, it would immediately become utterly ordinary, trampled underfoot.”
“Are you speaking of your Caliph?” Saladin asked.
The little eunuch also laughed, evidently he was one of those with no respect for the current Caliph Atid, “I see there is still no movement there, if he goes back…”
“No need to worry,” Saladin said: “Those you hate have already started burning.”
