xymnovel Chapter 134 Saladin's Ambition
Chapter 134 Saladin's Ambition
Chapter 134 Saladin's Ambition (Part 3)
The scent of incense wafted through the air in the reception room of the Damascus Governor's Palace castle.
The furnishings here are simple, with heavy books, astrolabes, and carpets decorated with Kufic script everywhere.
Saul, the messenger of "Emir Haran" Kochbury, was feeling extremely uneasy.
His Turkic features were distinct, his beard was short and neatly trimmed, but his eyes betrayed his unease, glancing from time to time at the tightly closed, bronze-inlaid door.
He was wearing what he considered to be his best, slightly worn but crisply starched linen robe, with a sheepskin vest over it, his fingertips nervously rubbing the frayed edges of the cuffs.
Even though the Sultan's reception room was furnished very simply, Saul still felt out of place in the scene before him.
As a seal keeper who had struggled to rise from humble beginnings through his eloquence, he had seen the most unruly tribal chiefs in the Kochbury tribe, but he had never set foot in such a solemn hall that symbolized the core of power in all of Syria and Egypt.
The Arabic incense in the air, the beautiful calligraphy on the walls that he could barely make out, and the silent Kurdish and Arab guards all silently reminded him that this was another world, a world belonging to Sunni Arabs and Kurdish nobles.
He was nothing more than the son of a lowly Turkic shepherd.
"Relax, Lord Saul," a gentle voice said beside him.
Saladin's chief seal officer, Isfahani, appeared to Saul more like a learned and refined Arab scholar. He smiled and offered Saul a cup of mint tea with a small spoonful of honey: "His Majesty the Sultan is changing his clothes and will be there soon. Please try this; it will help calm your mind."
Saul quickly took the warm ceramic cup with both hands, feeling a slight warmth on his fingertips.
"Thank you, Lord Isfahani. However—I am of humble origin and fear that my manners are inadequate and I may have offended the Sultan's dignity."
Isfahani shook his head slightly, his smile sincere: "In the Sultan's eyes, piety and talent are far more precious than lineage and accent. His Majesty often says that God's mercy is like rain, falling upon deserts and oases, without distinction between Arabs, Persians, Turks, or Kurds. He respects the legacy of Sultan Nur ad-Din and appreciates the ancient wisdom of the Oghuz Turkic tradition. Your Excellency need not worry; simply treat him with sincerity."
The heavy door was pushed open silently.
Saul immediately put down his teacup and bowed along with Isfahani.
A figure entered the hall, but there was no large retinue or commotion as expected. Only Saladin himself, still dressed in a simple dark robe.
He had a lean face with a thick beard and sharp eyes. He first nodded slightly to Isfahani, and then his deep and gentle gaze fell on Saul.
Saul was slightly shaken. He had not expected that the powerful Sultan Ayub would be so unassuming. However, the man’s natural dignity and composure, which did not need any external embellishment, undeniably revealed his identity.
Saul felt that the gaze seemed to carry weight, yet strangely it did not feel oppressive; rather, it was more like a calm scrutiny and acceptance.
Following the brief instructions given by Isfahani beforehand, he placed his right hand on his chest and fluently spoke in Arabic with a slight Turkic accent: "May the peace, mercy, and blessings of God be upon you, Your Majesty Saladin Yusuf ibn Ayyubi, the ruler of the believers. Your humble servant, Saur of Haran, by the command of my Lord Koqberi, offers you the highest respect and greetings as enduring as the Euphrates River."
Saladin stopped a few steps away, returning the gesture with his right hand on his chest. To ensure his distinguished Turkic guest could hear him clearly, he deliberately slowed his speech, speaking clearly and solemnly: "May God also grant you peace, mercy, and blessings, Saul, the messenger of Haran. Welcome to your journey from afar. May the eaves of Damascus shelter you from the dust of your travels."
He did not immediately walk to the main seat, but instead took a few steps forward, getting closer, as if he were carefully examining Saul's face in the sunlight.
"However, Saul—have we met before? Your face seems to evoke a distant familiarity, not from Haran, but from the sands and battlefields further north," Saladin said. "Your Excellency Kochbury, forgive my ignorance, but could you perhaps be a hero who has recently risen to prominence?"
Saul's heart tightened; he hadn't expected the Sultan to be so perceptive, or rather, so adept at using details to start a conversation.
He took a deep breath, raised his head, and tried to keep his voice steady: "Your Majesty is wise. Perhaps—you haven't seen me in person. But Your Majesty is certainly familiar with the appearance of my lord, Kokberi. Does Your Majesty still remember the Battle of the Plains of Taylor Sultan seven years ago?"
"Of course I remember."
Saul said, "In the Battle of the Plains of Tal Sultan, although my lord was not yet a title and was merely a general in Zangi's army, he still stood before His Majesty's army. In the end, he, like many other generals, became His Majesty's prisoner."
A knowing glint flashed in Saladin's eyes as he slowly said, "Our army did indeed capture many prisoners at the time. After the war, I released some of them, including noble royals and warriors I found unforgettable."
“My lord was the latter,” Saul continued. “He was only twenty-two years old at the time, tall, and had a typical Turkic appearance, which should have made him quite conspicuous among the prisoners.”
"It's him? I have a deep impression of him!" Saladin said with a slight surprise. "He was taciturn, but his eyes were resolute, and even in his cage, his back was straight. I released him because what I saw was not the dejection of a defeated general, but the undying dignity and potential of a warrior. So he is your lord."
These words were like a warm current, instantly striking the deepest part of Saul's heart.
The Sultan not only remembered it, but also gave it such an extraordinary evaluation!
The humiliation and bitterness of exile that he felt on behalf of his lord seemed to be gently soothed at this moment by the memory and recognition of this powerful monarch.
He bowed deeply again, expressing his gratitude: "Your Majesty's heart is as vast as the sky! My lord, Kochbury, is always moved to tears whenever he mentions this matter. He says that as a defeated prisoner without a title, his only fate should have been to become a slave, but Your Majesty treated him with courtesy and released him generously. Such benevolence is unparalleled in the world. The first thing he instructed me to do here is to express his heartfelt gratitude to Your Majesty once again."
Saladin raised his hand to indicate that Saul need not be so polite, and walked to the main seat himself. He did not sit down immediately, but stood and gestured for Saul and Isfahani to sit down.
"Sit down and talk. General Korkbury is too kind. Every true warrior deserves respect. However, I am curious," Saladin changed the subject gently, "why, given General Korkbury's abilities, has his illustrious reputation not seemed to have been heard in the court of Zengi all these years? And what is the meaning of your title 'Emir Haran'?"