Constantinople.The Venetian Quarter.
"Absolutely not!"
Marco let out a frightened cry.
"Oh Lord! Absolutely not! Even if it is the Prince's request…."
He waved his hands.
"You want me to act as a spy? I have never done such a thing in my life! Why are you asking me of all people?"
"There is no one else I can entrust this to, Marco."
I said.
The reason was simple.
Your stats are not bad.
Your intelligence and agility are quite high.
I know—you were a character I used often.
And as a merchant, you would not draw suspicion.
"And besides…."
At that moment, shouting could be heard outside the office.
"Turn all ships bound for Italy this way. Send them all to Constantinople!"
"But then the penalties—"
"Is that what matters right now?!"
A man's voice, breathless.
"If we sell just a little more elixir here, we could buy Venice outright! So redirect all the cargo here!"
"...."
Marco looked at me awkwardly.
"There is no point lying in front of you, Prince Baldwin. The elixir was already popular, but now the Greeks are half mad."
He added,
"Half of them are lining up just to drink a single drop."
"I can roughly guess the reason."
I could not help but smile.
This was the result of people believing I had received revelation from the Archangel.
'Elixir = wine made under angelic revelation.'
It was not unreasonable for the citizens to think so.
Then they should at least pay advertising fees.
"So, Marco, you are saying you cannot grant my request."
"If it is money, I can pay more! I will increase the payment for the elixir as well! As much as you wish!"
Marco shouted, waving his hands.
"But to go to Cyprus and act as a spy… that is difficult."
He shook his head.
"I carry heavy responsibilities within this company. I will find another volunteer and send him to you."
So you plan to pass it off to someone else.
That will not do.
I looked at him.
Perhaps I have threatened you too often with elixir.
Now it is time to persuade gently.
"Very well. If you refuse so firmly, I cannot force you."
"I am truly sorry, Prince. If my circumstances were only slightly better…"
"Then someone else shall become the Doge of Venice. That must be fate."
I rose as I spoke.
The Doge—the supreme leader of Venice.
At my unexpected words, Marco tilted his head.
"What do you mean someone else will become Doge?"
"I did not intend to mention this, but yesterday the Archangel Michael…"
I sighed.
Take the bait.
"No. It would be better not to say. It would be more comfortable for you, Marco."
"No! If it concerns Venice, you must tell me. As a Venetian, I have the duty to hear it."
He rose as well.
"And if it concerns me…."
"The Archangel said this: that a Venetian would go to Cyprus and accomplish a great deed."
I spoke with a serious expression.
Marco stared at me in silence.
"And that this Venetian would one day become a great leader—a Doge. But it seems it is not you, Marco."
"W-wait a moment!"
Marco inhaled sharply.
Excitement surged within him.
Desire rising.
Yes. That is better.
"Did the Archangel Michael truly say such a thing?"
"Do you think I would lie?"
"N-no, of course not! I merely wished to be certain…."
"And it would only be natural."
I smiled.
I pointed at the map on the table.
"Cyprus is an important trade hub. If the rebels are expelled, Venice's trade routes will become safer."
I shrugged.
"With such merit, rising to Doge later would not be impossible."
"Then the Archangel…."
He stared at the ceiling, lost in imagination.
I suppressed a laugh.
Lying is difficult only the first time.
He clenched his fist as though reaching a decision.
"Very well. If the Archangel has spoken so, then I must step forward."
"I knew you would say that."
I shook his hand.
Now then—time for instruction.
I spread out the prepared map.
There was much to teach.
The terrain of Cyprus. The information to gather.
Even the Morse code to be used for communication.
"First, I will explain the important matters."
***
Damascus
"To capture a lion, one must charge at it at once—that is your meaning."
Saladin asked the old man seated opposite him.
A faint scent of incense filled the room.
"That is correct, Sultan. I have hunted countless lions until my hair turned white."
The old man spoke.
Usama ibn Munqidh.
Though over ninety, he raised his wrinkled hand.
"A lion appears distracted most of the time. But if wounded even slightly, it reveals its true strength at once."
He added,
"And a lion always returns to the forest from which it came. To ambush it then is the safest method of hunting."
"Speak more of the Franks, not lions, Usama!"
Saladin's eldest son, Ali, asked with curiosity.
"No one has spent as much time among the Franks as you."
"When I was three, the Franks took al-Quds from us Muslims. Few have lived among them as long as I."
Usama smiled faintly.
He stroked his beard as if drawing out a hidden tale.
"There was a man named Salim who worked under me. He once worked at my father's bathhouse. He told me…."
The old man leaned forward.
"One day, a Frankish knight came to the bathhouse. When he saw below Salim's waist, he was greatly astonished. It was the first time he had seen a man cleanly shaved below. He asked Salim to shave him as well…."
He burst into laughter.
"And the next day, he brought his wife."
"His wife?"
Ali asked.
"The knight himself?"
"Yes. He said, 'Do the same for my dama!' and presented his wife. 'Dama' means wife in their tongue."
Saladin and Ali laughed.
All in the room followed.
"So in the end, her hair was shaved before her husband's eyes."
"I have heard of Frankish knights washing their daughters' hair in bathhouses. But to entrust one's wife to another man's hands like that…."
Ali said.
"It seems the Franks have no sense of pride."
"Men without pride cannot fight so bravely."
Saladin said.
He continued calmly,
"Frankish knights fight without regard for their lives on the battlefield. Courage comes from pride."
"But…."
"Especially their knightly orders. Yet how many among us would truly give our lives for Allah?"
"If the commander gives the order, I shall go at once and take the heads of those infidels!"
"I will defeat the idolaters and present al-Quds before the Sultan!"
The men in the room rose together.
Saladin's kin and commanders.
Scholars and scribes alike.
"Soon the time will come, brothers. And I swear before you…."
Saladin declared solemnly,
"Even after driving the Franks from this land, I shall continue to fight for Allah. I shall cross the sea and shatter their false idols and spread the true Islam."
He added,
"That is the destiny Allah has granted to me and to you."
"Allahu Akbar."
"Praise be to Allah."
The men murmured.
Saladin smiled.
"I have become too excited. It is always a pleasure to hear your stories, Usama."
He looked at the old man.
"I pray you live another hundred years. May peace fill the hearts of old warriors. I shall instruct the treasurer to provide you with a regular stipend."
"This humble old man gives thanks to the Sword of the Faith and Commander of the Brave."
Usama bowed deeply.
"Praise be to Allah, Lord of the world."
After Usama and the others departed, only Saladin and his two sons remained.
"Father, were you serious? About crossing the sea to fight the Franks?"
"If I truly said I would cross the sea, how many would follow?"
Saladin laughed.
"I would wager not even ten."
"Then why say such a thing?"
"A leader must show his goal firmly. Only then can others align themselves to it."
Saladin murmured.
"Al-Quds has been in Frankish hands too long. Many have forgotten it was once Muslim land. Some even speak of recognizing Frankish rule."
He continued,
"That is why I summoned Usama today. When he was born, al-Quds was still ours. He is living proof of why we must reclaim it."
"I had not thought that far."
"Remember this, Ali. The moment a leader hesitates or shows timidity, jihad is as good as dead."
At that moment, his adjutant entered.
"What is it, Sakan?"
"Information from Muslim merchants. Regarding Constantinople, as previously reported…."
"Speak."
"The assassination attempt reported earlier has been confirmed. And additionally…."
The adjutant continued.
Saladin's expression grew firm.
"So the rebellion was suppressed so quickly. That is not good news. And Baldwin himself stood at the forefront."
Saladin closed his eyes briefly.
"Ties between the Greeks and Jerusalem will strengthen."
"They say he saw the Archangel Michael. Did our merchants believe such blasphemy?"
Ali asked.
Sakan answered hesitantly,
"They say Baldwin personally identified all those who followed Andronikos. Not a single one was missed."
"He must have obtained intelligence through spies beforehand. Or perhaps innocent men were seized and called traitors."
Saladin said.
"But it troubles me that it was the young Baldwin. What was said in Jerusalem…."
He smiled faintly.
"May yet become reality."
"Then should we halt the planned northern campaign?"
"It is too late to withdraw. The amirs would think I am afraid."
Saladin shook his head.
"We must instead draw more forces toward al-Quds."
"But then the northern campaign—"
"Now that the Roman Empire is involved, we have no choice. If we advance north unchecked, the Leper King will strike Damascus."
He murmured,
"Even if we win, we would have nowhere to return."
"Like the lion Usama spoke of."
Ali said.
Saladin nodded and turned to his adjutant.
"Send letters to the amirs. The army will be assembled as planned."
"I shall obey, Sultan."
"And continue gathering information on the young Baldwin. Every movement. Leave nothing unobserved."
He added with a smile,
"The boy is indeed fit to be a king."