xymnovel Chapter 47 Saladin
Chapter 47 Saladin
In November of the Islamic Hijri calendar 577 (March of the Julian calendar 1182), Cairo was still asleep in the early morning.
The Saladin Citadel on Mutagem Hill was brightly lit. Imaddin Isfahani, clutching a letter, strode through the citadel gates, greeted by nods from the soldiers. Just as Isfahani was about to pass through the gate, a figure flashed across the battlements.
He was dressed in heavy plate armor, wearing a helmet that covered his face, and had a finely crafted Damascus steel sword hanging at his waist. He bowed slightly and called out to Isfahani.
"Your Excellency Davadar (the lord's scribe and seal-holder)!"
Although his face was obscured by a helmet, Isfahani recognized him from his voice. He looked up and asked in confusion, "Farooq?"
The officer named Farouk looked at the letter in his hand and respectfully asked, "Any news from Aleppo?"
Isfahani nodded and replied, "Not only Aleppo, but also Jerusalem, Constantinople, and from Sicily to Paris, news has been coming in. The situation has been very volatile recently, and I must report to the Sultan immediately."
Farouk nodded, respectfully stepped aside, and said, "My uncle is resting in his room right now. Please remember to inform him when you get there that the troops in Cairo have been assembled and are ready to depart at any time."
"The army? Deployed?" Isfahani looked at Farouk with suspicion. "I was only in Alexandria for half a month, how come suddenly... If I remember correctly, our truce with the Franks hasn't expired yet, has it?"
"Haha, you misunderstand. We are not going to attack Jerusalem. It's just that my uncle plans to move to Damascus, and we can send troops as soon as the truce is over."
Isfahani nodded in understanding, bid farewell to Farouk, and headed towards the Sultan's bedroom in the castle.
Upon hearing approaching footsteps at the entrance to the sleeping quarters, two of the Sultan's personal guards gripped their swords and became alert. Seeing that it was the Sultan's Dawadar, they became respectful, bowed to Isfahani, and then asked inside, "Sultan, Dawadar has come to visit."
A mature, deep voice came from behind the door: "Please let him in."
Isfahani bowed his head and entered the bedroom. Although he had been here countless times, each visit had stirred within him a deep reverence for Sultan Saladin.
The interior was surprisingly simple. The rough wool carpet on the floor was worn thin at the edges, the olive oil in the bronze candelabra was almost gone, and the firelight cast flickering shadows on the walls. Several scimitars were neatly arranged on the weapon rack, their scabbards devoid of any jewels. Most striking was a map spread across the entire wall, stretching from the Nile Delta all the way to the Mesopotamian plain, densely marked with different colored symbols.
Saladin, draped in a plain black robe, stood before the map. The oil lamp cast his silhouette onto the parchment, overlapping it with the outline of Jerusalem. His fingers slowly traced the coastline, gently tapping the location of the Beit She'an fortress in the Kingdom of Jerusalem.
"Sultan?" Isfahani whispered.
Saladin turned around, and in the lamplight, his face seemed to be shrouded in shadow. His eyes were deep-set, slightly narrowed yet still sharp, and his neatly trimmed beard was now frosted. His face was thin, like a lion lurking in the shadows, waiting for its prey. The collar of his robe revealed a simple linen lining, and like his bedchamber, there was not a single piece of gold or silver ornament on him.
"Isfahani," his voice was deep and steady, "is there any new news?"
"Yes, Sultan, there is new news from the Franks of the Levant, the Romans, and Philip of France."
Isfahani then handed the letter to Saladin.
Saladin nodded slightly, but did not accept the gift. He walked to a chair and sat down, saying, "The army is about to set off. Trust me, I won't go to see it myself. Just quickly summarize it for me, highlighting the key points."
"Yes, Sultan." Isfahani opened the letter, and the moment his eyes almost touched the paper, his report immediately rang out: "The Caliph Nasser of Zangi has lost power, and the actual power in the kingdom and Aleppo has been transferred to Imad al-Din of Sinjar, the brother of Safadin."
Saladin paused, his gaze sharpening. By the end of 1181, Nur ad-Din's rightful successor, Saleh, had died, and Imad al-Din's autocracy provided him with a pretext to take control of Aleppo, which would be an opportunity for him to continue expanding his power in the Islamic world.
He remained impassive, gesturing for Isfahani to continue.
Isfahani looked at the letter and continued, "Since Jerusalem declared Baldwin's brother as crown prince, its ties with Sicily have become increasingly close. Ships are arriving in a steady stream from the ports of Acre and Jaffa, bringing them large numbers of immigrants and grain. In the past year, Egypt's grain exports to the Kingdom of Jerusalem have decreased significantly. Meanwhile, unidentified fortifications are being built throughout the kingdom, and roads that were once frequented only by caravans are now crowded with Frankish transport caravans. However, I'm sorry, Sultan, we simply cannot obtain more definitive information. We tried to get the Egyptian Assassins to take over the Jerusalem outposts, but they seem to have vanished into thin air; most of the Assassins have disappeared without a trace, which is truly strange."
"It's alright. The Assassins' split was intentional on my part. It's normal that some Assassins in certain strongholds are unwilling to cooperate," Saladin said calmly. Then, as if remembering something, he asked, "Have you found out about that suddenly appearing prince of Jerusalem?"
"We found some information, but it's not very helpful," Isfahani replied. "It's almost certain that the prince returned to Jerusalem with Count Raymond's fleet. We traced the source back to the tax collectors in Alexandria, who told us he was kidnapped by a pirate captain named Zahir, who mistook him for a Roman prince, and brought him to Alexandria for ransom. Oh, and this tax collector's predecessor was Hakim, the one you bestowed the jewel upon."
Saladin frowned: "Have you found that Zahir?"
"Sultan, since that day, this pirate leader has completely broken with Alexandria, and his whereabouts have not yet been found."
"Keep investigating, tell me about Constantinople and Paris."
Isfahani nodded, glanced at the letter, and continued his report: "In the year since Kantostefanos moved into the Grand Palace, there have been no open conflicts with the Empress Dowager and the Princess, and the Emperor has retained almost all power. The war with the Hungarians is over, and the Romans have lost Bosnia and Srem. The Venetians have had several brief clashes with the Roman fleet in the Adriatic, but so far there have been no large-scale military operations. Currently, the Romans are busy dealing with the army of the Sultan of Rum."
"As for Philip of France, he is a shrewd man who has secured his throne and is known as 'The Fox.' He has learned of Princess Agnes's death, but has not yet made any statement."
"That's all for now, Sultan." Isfahani waited quietly for Saladin's next instructions, then remembered Farouk's instructions and said, "Also, Emir Farouk said the army has been assembled and is ready to set off at any time."
Saladin stood up, turned to the map on the wall behind him, and said softly, "Originally, I only intended to send the army to Damascus in preparation for the attack on the Franks. It seems that the attack on the Franks will have to be postponed."
He then turned to Isfahani, his eyes gleaming: "In my name, send a letter to Tagudin, instructing him to summon the artisans of Damascus to continue manufacturing siege equipment. The Ayyubid's army will make a brief stop in Damascus before heading north to besiege Aleppo!"