I Became The King Of Crusaders [EN]: Chapter 212

The Will of God (2)

I suppose even bad relationships can morph into something resembling affection over time. I never imagined I’d become so accustomed to Al-Adil’s face.

“This way, please. The Sultan is waiting inside.”

“It’s been a while, General Al-Adil. It seems you’ve injured your arm.”

He simply bit his lip, offering no other reaction.

A small village on the outskirts of Damascus.

The atmosphere crackled with a silent battle of wills between the Muslim soldiers and the knights.

I glanced at the Muslim soldiers. They were Kurdish.

Saladin’s Ayyubid family was also of Kurdish origin.

Even if their Sultan was defeated, they would remain loyal to the very end.

I gestured to Aig.

“Don’t provoke them too much. They won’t cross the line, either.”

“If Your Majesty is in danger, we won’t stand idly by.”

Aig said, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword.

“If I sense anything amiss, I’ll shout immediately. Until then, remain as still as possible.”

With that, I headed into the building.

Inside, there was only a bed.

Lying on it was a familiar face: Saladin.

Pale, with sweat pouring down his face.

The servants were constantly replacing the damp towels on his body.

‘The rumors of his illness weren’t exaggerated.’

As I sat on the chair next to the bed, he slowly opened his eyes. We looked at each other in silence for a moment.

“Congratulations, Baldwin.”

“For what?”

“I heard you had a son.”

Saladin said with a faint smile.

“I felt an indescribable happiness when I had my first child, Ali. Now, all that’s left is worry about him.”

“I feel the same way.”

The small baby in Theodora’s arms. Amalric was my son and the heir to the kingdom.

What kind of life would that child lead?

“By the way, isn’t it interesting? Things turned out exactly as you predicted in your letter.”

Saladin said.

“We faced each other in Al-Quds, Jerusalem.”

“Indeed.”

I chuckled involuntarily. The letter I sent to Saladin from Eilat.

[Tell him that the reply to the letter received today will be delivered directly in Jerusalem.]

It was an off-the-cuff remark, but a situation perfectly mirroring those words had come to pass.

“Let’s get down to business now. There are many issues to resolve.”

Saladin grabbed my arm, cutting me off.

“Before that, there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Ask me anything.”

“Did you truly receive a revelation from heaven? Did you hear the voices of the Archangel Michael and the Lord?”

“….”

Saladin wasn’t being sarcastic.

He was genuinely curious.

‘What should I say?’

My gut feeling told me that Saladin’s condition was precarious. The shock of defeat and retreat must have taken a heavy toll.

There would be no harm in telling him the truth.

Even if Saladin spread my words, I could simply dismiss them as fabrications.

A man who dedicated everything to the recapture of Jerusalem. I could grant Saladin this much solace.

“To be honest, I have never received a revelation from heaven.”

“I see. But Baldwin, didn’t you somehow know the future? You were always present where problems were about to erupt.”

Saladin asked.

“And the Franks say you became a different person after falling from your horse.”

“I… knew another future.”

I took a deep breath.

“I knew that Baldwin IV would die young, and that Guy [Guy of Lusignan, his brother-in-law] and Reynald [Reynald of Châtillon, Lord of Oultrejordain] would cause trouble. I also knew that a rebellion would break out in Constantinople.”

Besides Henry II and the affairs of Europe, but he wouldn’t understand even if I mentioned them.

“In that future, I wasn’t there. After Baldwin IV died, Count Guy ascended to the throne of Jerusalem.”

“Count Guy as king. Then, what happened to Jerusalem in the future you foresaw?”

“You, Sultan Saladin, conquered Jerusalem. The Frankish knights were annihilated at the Horns of Hattin.”

The Battle of the Horns of Hattin.

With that single battle, Jerusalem lost the majority of its knightly forces. Afterward, even common soldiers were temporarily knighted to fill the ranks.

“Saladin made a deal with Balian [Balian of Ibelin, a nobleman in the Kingdom of Jerusalem] to release the citizens of Jerusalem. He practically received a pittance in ransom.”

This was a part meticulously detailed in history.

The negotiation between Balian and Saladin.

With the walls breached, Balian threatened to burn Jerusalem to the ground if surrender wasn’t accepted.

Saladin accepted the offer and released the citizens of Jerusalem.

‘He even personally paid the ransom for the widows and children who couldn’t afford it.’

He could have broken the promise and ordered a massacre, but he willingly let them go.

Afterward, Saladin faced considerable criticism from fellow Muslims.

‘They are the ones who will return with swords and fight us! Why did you let them go so easily?!’

Saladin closed his eyes as if lost in thought.

“I see. Then, let me ask one more thing. In that future… after I conquered Jerusalem, did the war cease? The war between Muslims and Franks, I mean.”

“The war didn’t stop.”

I said.

The Crusades continued up to the 9th Crusade.

The Ottoman Empire emerged, and the Eastern Roman Empire crumbled. After that, the British Empire ruled….

Israel was established, and Jews and Arabs waged war.

Blood flowed in Jerusalem well into the 21st century.

“In the end, the Jews drove out the Muslims and seized Jerusalem.”

“I see. But that future has already changed.”

Saladin muttered.

A brief silence descended, and he spoke again.

“You conquered our holy city of Mecca without spilling a drop of blood. If Jerusalem must remain in the hands of the Franks, there is no one more deserving than you.”

“…But as long as Damascus remains under the Sultan’s rule, there will be no lasting peace in Jerusalem.”

I said.

It was time to make my move.

Damascus was in a position to constantly threaten Jerusalem.

“So, you’re saying you won’t cease the war until you control Damascus?”

“I’m not asking you to surrender the city.”

I bowed my head slightly forward.

“But I must have the walls torn down.”

“You’re asking us to destroy them ourselves. That’s akin to asking us to commit suicide. If we tear down the walls and you attack….”

Saladin coughed.

“Damascus wouldn’t last half a day.”

“If you tear down the walls, I pledge not to attack Damascus. I promise on my honor and the kingdom’s. If you wish, I will make an official declaration.”

Saladin was right.

If the walls were torn down, we could occupy it at any time.

It would maintain the deterrent of Jerusalem’s military strength.

“The people of Damascus will never accept such a proposal. If you believe they’re fools….”

“Of course, they wouldn’t. But you can persuade them. Even though you’ve been defeated, the people of Damascus still hold you in high regard.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Something dire will befall both Jerusalem and Damascus. And all Muslims as well.”

Mecca and Medina.

These two places were under my control.

Saladin must have understood my implication.

“If Mecca burns, the Ayyubid family will be forever branded as sinners. They will be remembered in history not as those who failed to conquer Jerusalem, but as traitors who abandoned Mecca.”

“I don’t believe you would burn Mecca.”

“I have no desire to turn a holy city into ashes either. But I have nowhere else to retreat.”

“Even if Mecca burns, we Muslims will build new holy sites there. The sacredness resides in the place itself.”

Saladin shook his head slightly.

“Walls and buildings are inconsequential.”

“Then, we have no choice but to continue the war.”

With that, I stood up. Saladin was posturing, but I could discern his true intentions.

Saladin was that kind of man.

“If Damascus tears down its walls, the threat will not be us Franks, but other Muslims.”

Aleppo and other cities ruled by Emirs [Arab governors or military commanders].

They would surely target Damascus.

“If they attack Damascus, I will send reinforcements immediately.”

“You’re practically turning Damascus into your backyard. The more enemies we have, the more we’ll have to rely on you.”

“The choice rests with the Sultan. I’ll be waiting nearby. Give me your answer by tomorrow morning.”

Before leaving the room, I looked at him one last time.

“I also have a question I want to ask the Sultan.”

A question that had been lingering in my mind since before I was transported to this era.

“Tolerance and mercy. Is that your genuine nature, or merely a means to power?”

Saladin was a rising power in the Levant [historical geographical area encompassing the Eastern Mediterranean].

In order to consolidate his power, he had to pursue a policy of inclusiveness as much as possible.

‘He must have known that if he massacred the citizens of Jerusalem, Europe would immediately retaliate.’

Was his release of the citizens of Jerusalem in the original history an act of genuine compassion, or the result of meticulous calculation?

Saladin smiled faintly at my words.

“When my uncle Shirkuh [a general of the Zengid dynasty] dragged me along on the Egyptian expedition, I cried like a child. To me, war was simply terrifying and dreadful.”

His eyes met mine.

“After my uncle suddenly passed away, I became the Wazir [high-ranking political advisor or minister] of Egypt by accident. After that, I only did what I believed was right.”

He said, carefully choosing his words.

“That’s all I can answer.”

“I see.”

I nodded.

Even if it’s hypocrisy, if it persists for a lifetime, can it truly be distinguished from sincerity?

“Then, I’ll await your answer.”

* * *

After Baldwin departed, Saladin remained silent.

Late that afternoon, Al-Adil entered the room.

“Sending Taqi ad-Din [Saladin’s nephew] to Egypt was my mistake. You should have been the one to go.”

“Brother….”

“I underestimated the extent of the conflict between you and that child over Egypt. It was my fault for not foreseeing it.”

“….”

“Tell Baldwin that I will accept his demands.”

“But the people of Damascus will never permit it. To tear down the walls!”

Al-Adil exclaimed.

“Isn’t that practically inviting the Frankish bastards to attack?”

“Baldwin won’t attack. And he will withdraw from Mecca and Medina soon.”

Saladin shook his head.

“Baldwin conquered Mecca with bread, not swords. We should have captured Al-Quds (Jerusalem) that way too….”

“But didn’t you swear that you would recapture Al-Quds no matter what, brother?”

“We did what we could. Enough Muslim blood has been spilled. It’s simply that Allah [God] doesn’t will it yet.”

Saladin replied.

“Someday, a new opportunity will arise for us Muslims. A time will come when the Franks will be divided and weakened, just as we are now. When that time arrives, our descendants will reclaim Al-Quds.”

“What if we never reclaim Al-Quds?”

Al-Adil asked.

He had his arms crossed and was frowning.

Saladin simply smiled at his brother.

“Then that would be Allah’s will. The Lord is the one who determines all destinies.”

“….”

“You swore allegiance to Ali. But I doubt you will uphold that oath after I die.”

“Brother! What are you…!”

“I’m not blaming you. I simply want you to take care of Ali and my children until the end. Family doesn’t shed blood, even if they quarrel.”

“Of course, brother. I will fight by Ali’s side to the end.”

“You must never attack Al-Quds while you are alive. Don’t give the Franks any justification. Keep that in mind.”

With that, Saladin looked out the door.

The sun was slowly setting, and the Adhan [Islamic call to prayer], calling for prayer, echoed.

“The wind is blowing.”

Saladin muttered.

“A new wind is blowing.”