"Then that settles it, more or less."
I spread the map I had been holding across the table.
Two days had passed since my conversation with Sinan.
We had spent two days and nights refining the final details of the plan.
I could barely keep my eyes open.
Perhaps from lack of sleep.
Garnier stifled a yawn.
Only the two of us remained in the chamber.
The others, unable to endure any longer, had already gone to their quarters.
"So there was a reason for Sinan's confidence. To think even the highest ranks have been infiltrated by spies…"
Garnier said.
"There must be agents planted within the Kingdom of Jerusalem as well."
"Most likely. But not to the extent of these northern cities."
I nodded.
Unlike the Crusaders, whose leadership was flexible, Islamic polities placed far greater weight on individual rulers.
In their case, eliminating a single figure could collapse an entire faction.
Among the Crusaders, if someone were assassinated, he could be replaced quickly.
One could simply bring a noble from Europe.
"Still, when we return to Jerusalem, we should look into it."
We would need to sift out the spies.
Then again, perhaps removing them at once would not be wise.
Eliminating them would only invite replacements.
But if we knew who they were, we could feed them false information or turn them.
"First supporting Atabeg Mas'ud, and now seizing Hama and Homs."
Garnier shook his head.
"Nothing proceeds according to plan."
"No plan ever does."
I smiled.
Once battle begins, operations plans often become meaningless.
Plans must remain flexible and adaptable.
"Prince, there is one matter I must ask. In this assault…"
Garnier hesitated, looking at me.
"Will the Templars be included?"
"The men I examined showed no cause for concern. I have no intention of condemning those who committed no crime."
"That is a relief."
Garnier exhaled.
I sensed his quiet reassurance.
"I feared you might exclude the Templars entirely. The Grand Master and several members committed a grave wrong, but…"
He ran a hand across the table.
"Like our Hospitaller Order, the Templars were founded for a noble purpose."
He continued,
"Not only in the Levant, but across Europe, countless faithful revere them."
"His Majesty will not punish them all either."
I said.
I understood what Garnier was implying.
He wished to avoid a disgrace that would lead to dissolution.
So did I.
My issue lay with the leadership.
I had no intention of dismantling the entire Order like a certain French king would decades later.
That would only please Saladin.
"Though perhaps a merger with the Hospitallers may be pursued. It has been discussed before."
"If God wills it, so it shall be."
"I imagine the Templars will be the most eager in this campaign."
I smiled.
Had Machiavelli not said something similar?
Those seeking to cleanse their guilt make the most zealous servants.
"Let us review the plan once more."
I looked down at the map.
It consisted of three phases.
First.
Forge carrier pigeons and letters to spread unrest within the two cities.
In simple terms, spread false news.
The Assassins controlled the pigeons and messengers connecting the region.
From high officials to beggars in the streets.
Their network exceeded imagination.
Sinan's confidence had not been empty boasting.
At the same time, eliminate Saladin's and Mas'ud's informants.
Second.
Assassinate high-ranking officials.
Remove key rulers to intensify chaos.
That was when we would move.
I had instructed Joscelin to cultivate the Christians in the region.
There were always Christians dissatisfied under Islamic rule.
They were not organized enough to act alone, but with Assassin cooperation, they could.
Finally.
Once reinforcements from Tripoli arrived, lay siege and enter the cities through breaches in the walls.
In truth, not breaches, but sewer passages.
Weak points the Assassins had identified.
There had been instances in medieval history where cities fell through such means.
Perhaps this was how they had seized cities before.
Timing was critical.
Everything had to align.
"To be honest, I do not understand why the Assassins proposed this."
Garnier rubbed his eyes.
"If this succeeds, they will find themselves flanked by Crusaders on both sides."
"But they will gain a shield against Saladin. They will expand their followers and wait for opportunity. It will take years."
I said.
Better the Crusaders, who treat them as Saracens, than Sunni rulers who openly persecute them.
The irony was striking.
Then again, perhaps it was natural.
Even the Eastern Orthodox in Constantinople had preferred Islamic rule to Western Latins who had massacred them.
Grant a measure of freedom, and resistance diminishes.
"In any case, that is a matter for later."
"Indeed. But there is another concern."
Garnier continued.
"Even if we seize these cities, Saladin's army will march upon us. If supplies fail…"
He muttered,
"During the First Crusade, at Antioch, they captured the city only to be besieged by reinforcements."
"There is no need to worry about supplies."
I smiled.
After all we had transported in recent weeks.
"Have you forgotten the provisions we delivered?"
Garnier blinked, then gave a short laugh.
"Lack of sleep slows the mind. You are correct."
He laughed aloud.
"It seems they have gathered supplies in advance for our benefit."
"And paid us for them."
I shrugged.
It sounded almost villainous when put that way.
"Then the final matter is choosing who will lead the vanguard. Few will volunteer for such a perilous task."
"There is no need for concern."
I smiled.
"Count Joscelin has already volunteered."
September, 1182.
Dozens of carrier pigeons arrived in Hama and Homs.
At the same time, ominous rumors spread.
'Saladin has taken Aleppo and executed Mas'ud!'
'The heads of Mas'ud's kin lie in the streets of Aleppo!'
The rumors quickly engulfed both cities.
If Mas'ud had been executed, all who supported him would face punishment.
Several wealthy men hastily gathered their assets and fled to Mosul.
Not all believed the rumors.
Certain scholars and poets raised their voices.
'Sultan Saladin promised mercy and tolerance! Would he execute the Atabeg?'
'He once served Nur ad-Din! Would he harm his son?'
Yet the pigeons and messengers delivered grim news daily.
Saladin would punish Hama and Homs for refusing submission.
Panic gripped the cities.
Then came the event that sealed their fear.
On the holy day, as the muezzin's solemn call rang out—
'There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is His Messenger!'
Screams erupted.
In Hama, the amir, Jana at-Ullah, was assassinated as he exited the mosque.
The assassins stabbed his neck, then slit their own throats.
In Homs, the same occurred.
Wadi al-Amir was disemboweled by two men and fell into a coma.
The assassins were torn apart by enraged guards.
Soon, under the pretext of capturing Assassins and Isma'ilis, purges began.
Officials were murdered.
Militiamen looted innocent Isma'ili believers.
"This is an Isma'ili plot!"
"They have poisoned the wells!"
Hundreds of corpses littered the streets.
More citizens fled.
Then came the final shock.
"The Franks! The Franks are advancing!"
As thousands of Franks approached, emergency councils formed to prepare defenses.
None knew what was unfolding beneath the walls.
"Damn it! Is this truly the right path?"
Count Joscelin cursed as filth poured down from above.
"If this continues, we will suffocate. I was told the passage was narrow, but this is a rabbit's burrow."
"According to the map, this is correct. A little further and we will reach the exit."
"Exit? From above, it is a latrine hole."
Joscelin sighed.
They had crawled through the sewer for nearly half an hour.
All were tense.
Yet none would abandon the mission.
"To think they did not install iron grates. The Saracens are not so clever."
"It is easy to mock. When we return, we should inspect our own walls."
Joscelin climbed upward.
"Who knows whether the Assassins have marked our weaknesses as well?"
They climbed in silence.
Soon, light filtered down.
"We are nearly through. Remember—open the gates first."
Joscelin drew his sword.
"Fighting comes after. Understood?"
"Yes, my lord."
Blades slid from scabbards.
"Though this is not Edessa…"
One knight spoke.
"If His Majesty permits, might we not establish a new county here?"
"If God wills."
Joscelin smiled.
"First survive. Prepare."
He thrust himself upward.
A Saracen relieving himself screamed and stumbled back.
They had emerged into the mosque latrine.
Citizens fled in terror.
"Deus vult!"
"God wills it!"
The vanguard charged.
"The Franks!"
"How did they enter?!"
Guards hurled torches.
"Burn it! Do not let them escape!"
Flames spread through the mosque.
Joscelin and his knights cut their way out.
The gates stood ahead.
"Charge! Charge!"
Guards scattered.
Joscelin severed a Saracen's neck.
"Open the gates! We must finish this before reinforcements arrive!"