The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 133 Saladin's Ambition

Chapter 133 Saladin's Ambition (Part Two)

Tajudin rode up and suddenly stopped in front of Hakim.

Hakim quickly composed himself and asked respectfully, "Your Excellency Tajudin! Does the Sultan have any further instructions?"

"It's nothing, just a reward from the Sultan." Tajudin took out an exquisite little box from his pocket, opened the outer box, and inside was a pendant inlaid with a flawless green gemstone.

"Your Excellency Vizier's welcome is very kind. This is one of the Sultan's treasures, please accept it." Tajuddin handed the pendant to Hakim and said with a smile, "This stone symbolizes loyalty and purity. May it witness the prosperity of Damascus under the cooperation of the Ayyubid and Muqadam peoples, and add blessings to God's jihadist cause."

Hakim accepted the gift with both hands, his face filled with a flattered expression: "Such a generous gift—I am unworthy of it! I will wear it day and night and remember the Sultan's kindness!"

He scoffed inwardly, "Ha, the Sultan's family is so powerful, they give you a sweet treat after a slap? This emerald, though of fine quality, is just another expensive toy. This is all rightfully the Mukadam family's; don't expect them to be grateful!"

After handing the pendant to Hakim, Tajudin spurred his horse and galloped away, his hooves clattering as he caught up with the silent procession ahead, rejoining his uncle and Farouk.

He glanced to the side and saw his uncle Saladin's back, which stood straight as a pine tree against the backdrop of his black robe. His hands, which were holding the reins, were steady and composed, and the horse's pace was perfectly in sync, as if the commotion and provocation at the city gate just now were of no importance.

Farouk on the other side was completely different. His chest heaved noticeably, and his fingers, gripping the reins tightly, were rubbing anxiously. His warhorse seemed to sense its master's anger, and its gait appeared somewhat restless.

"Uncle, what exactly happened?" Tajudin spurred his horse closer, his voice filled with confusion and lingering fear. "The Mukadam family has a long-standing feud with Farouk and me. I initially thought it was just the usual exclusion of us 'outsiders' by the local old clans. Who knew—"

He hesitated, carefully choosing his words, and said softly, "Who would have thought they would dare to do this to you too—"

"Tajudin, you haven't been in Damascus long enough to see some of the deeply entrenched old stories clearly," Farouk interrupted, his voice laced with suppressed anger. "The Muqadham family has been operating in this city for generations; their roots have long since seeped into every crack in the stone! They're not subjects at all; they clearly consider themselves the true masters of Damascus! Think back to when Uncle Turanshah was Emir—wasn't he constantly hampered by them? I even suspect that Uncle Turanshah's later—those less-than-honorable—actions might have been fueled and deliberately tempted by these parasites!"

"Farooq, the Muqadam family's methods are indeed despicable, but Turanshah's downfall was ultimately his own choice—" Although Saladin's tone was cold, Farooq and Tajudin could clearly sense a trace of regret and sorrow when he mentioned his brother Turanshah's name.

Horse hooves pounded the cobblestone path leading up to the castle, producing a monotonous yet clear echo.

Saladin stared ahead, silent, seemingly reminiscing about the past.

"Tajuddin, do you know what Syria became nine years ago after the death of Sultan Nur ad-Din of Zangi?" Saladin paused, then continued, "There was no leader, and the sons were fighting amongst themselves. Many governors established their own fiefdoms, abandoning the authority of the Caliph and the principle of Muslim unity. I have been commissioned by the Caliph to restore order and legitimacy."

"My primary objective was Damascus. Fortunately, the commander at the time, Muhammad ibn Muqadam, was a pragmatic man. He opened the city gates, allowing me to enter without bloodshed. To repay this kindness and to appease the people of this ancient city, I distributed all the dinars I had brought with me, especially generously rewarding the Muqadam family and their allies. That sum nearly emptied my savings at the time."

He paused slightly, then continued, "However, for the greedy, flowing gold coins are never as valuable as land that can be passed down through generations. They subtly hinted at their desire for a respectable hereditary fief. I granted their wish, bestowing upon Ibn Muqadam the rich ancient city of Baalbek at the northern end of the Bekaa Valley. As for Damascus itself, I left it to Turanshah, my brother."

Upon hearing this, Tajuddin couldn't help but interject: "In that case, they have received such great favors, they should be loyal to the death!"

Why is it that today—

"Sworn to the death?" Saladin sneered. "Tagudin, you overestimate the conscience of these parasites. They swallowed Baalbek, yet they never loosened their grip on Damascus's throat. The city's major guilds, key trade routes, and even those shady businesses remain firmly in their hands. Any new policies Turanshah implements on my orders will be thwarted by countless conventions, personal relationships, and covert obstruction. They surround and corrupt him with extravagance and pleasure—and Turanshah, my foolish brother, has willingly succumbed to it."

Saladin's voice lowered, as if he had aged several years in an instant: "Five years ago, I had to personally dismiss him."

At that time, I had just suffered a major setback in Mongissa, and my prestige had been damaged—there was no greater internal and external trouble than this.

"But the family must continue, and power must be consolidated." His tone hardened again. "Turanshah may be incompetent, but the Ayyubid family's position cannot be shaken. I need to give him a new fiefdom worthy of his status to maintain the family's dignity and unity. After much consideration, only Baalbek is suitable—that fertile land I already bestowed upon him."

"So, I used some—less honorable means. Ibn Muqadam voluntarily" returned Baalbek. In compensation, he received some scattered and impoverished villages in the north. Turanshah became the new master of Baalbek."

"However," Saladin's eyes suddenly sharpened like knives, "less than two years later, Turanshah suddenly fell ill and followed God. Because he had no children, under the strong appeals and pressure from the Muqadham family, Baalbek naturally" returned to Ibn Muqadham's hands.

The story is over.

Tagudin remained silent for a long time, stunned by the tumultuous events described in Saladin's recollections.

He suddenly understood everything: "So, Hakim's provocation today isn't just directed at me and Farouk—they're retaliating. Retaliating for what you demanded back then, but also looking for any weakness in you, wanting to take back more, or—"

Overthrow you?

"The answer is right before your eyes, Tagudin," Saladin said calmly. "They smelled the fire in Beirut and couldn't wait to pounce on me, wanting to test whether my throne is still secure."

"Then what are we waiting for, Uncle!" Farouk's anger flared up again. "You're too lenient! We have a powerful army at our disposal, why should we feign compliance with these insects? And why should we reward them?"

"Times have changed, Farouk. Killing can solve problems, but it often creates new ones. However, you are right about one thing: it's time to clean up. But it must be done my way." Saladin flicked his whip, lightly striking the air. "Now, let's go see the guest who has come all the way from Haran. Compared to the situation in the north, those arrogant usurpers are nothing but insignificant dust."

1

Saladin said nothing more, spurred his horse, and the mount suddenly accelerated, galloping towards the castle's majestic gate.