"So you're saying we've completely lost contact with the north. Do you hear yourself?"
Guy said.
Moonlight slipped through the gaps in the tent.
A dim candle flame lit Grand Master Toroh and Guy.
"Even if your men failed, we should have heard something by now…"
Guy muttered.
"Maybe that boy Baudouin is trying to hide his own failure."
He smiled thinly.
"If the convoy was attacked, the Assassins would have turned their blades. If they clashed with Baudouin on the spot… isn't it possible that there'd be no news?"
"But at least one man should have gotten out."
Toroh sighed and looked at Guy.
"If information leaked from somewhere…"
"Are you suspecting me? Me, who has helped your Templars more than anyone?"
Guy leaned forward.
His beard trembled over the candlelight.
Toroh flinched and drew back.
"Have you forgotten how much I've done for your convenience until now?"
"I'm only speaking of possibilities. If it isn't that, then…"
"Then it leaked from your Order. Are you certain there's been no word?"
Guy asked.
"Weren't there brothers who went along with Baudouin as well?"
"Contact has been completely cut off. As if they all vanished…"
Just then, they heard someone approaching the tent.
Armor clanked.
At least several dozen.
Both Guy and Toroh turned their heads.
Guy shouted toward the tent entrance.
"Who is it?!"
"It's the captain of the guard, My Lord."
A voice answered.
Shadows shifted outside the tent.
"His Majesty has summoned both you and the Grand Master of the Templars."
"At this hour?"
Guy asked with a frown.
"Why are you delivering this instead of a messenger? Tell His Majesty we will come shortly."
"It is His Majesty's command that you appear at once."
A scuffle followed.
Royal guards shoved past the sentries and entered the tent.
"What is the meaning of this rudeness?!"
Guy shouted as he rose.
Silence fell.
Faintly, the sound of crickets came from outside.
"I don't know what His Majesty intends to say…"
Guy growled.
"I will go now. But I have no intention of being dragged like a criminal."
"Understood, Count. Please lead the way."
The captain of the guard and Guy glared at each other.
As Guy stepped out of the tent, he said,
"I will repay this insult one day."
***
Hama.
Saladin's army had built positions close to the walls.
But the city's mood was calmer than expected.
"Do not forget the contract we made, Prince Baldwin."
Sinan said, looking at me.
The robe draped over him fluttered in the wind.
The two of us stood together atop the wall.
"You agreed to allow the construction of our preaching halls."
"I don't think that's what matters right now. You can plaster the entire city with preaching halls for all I care."
I burst into laughter.
The military force that ruled the city was ours, the crusaders.
And the number of Christian townsfolk here was comparable to the Muslims.
If the Sunnis and Shi'a were divided, it only benefited us.
"But I cannot allow you to demand that some of the officials be appointed from your people."
I said.
"That wasn't in the contract we first made. Was it?"
"If our Assassins had not shed blood, you would never have taken this city."
"And if our Franks do not shed blood from here on, this city will fall to Saladin."
I pointed toward Saladin's camp beyond the walls.
Thousands upon thousands of tents.
Yellow banners—Saladin's emblem—fluttered at the center.
It felt less like an encampment than a black sea.
"Remember this, Sinan. Without the Kingdom of Jerusalem, you would already have been driven from the mountains."
"You Franks would have been driven into the sea long ago without us."
Sinan scoffed.
"We are the weight that keeps balance, and the blade that carries out Allah's will. Pray to your cross so that our blade does not turn toward you."
I answered with a smile.
Yes—if we were to hold Hama and Homs, we would need their help.
And the Assassins, to hold the mountains, needed these two cities.
A structure of mutual dependence.
"Yet even you do not know Saladin's true intention, do you? Whether he will assault this place—or return to Damascus."
I asked with a laugh.
The Assassins' intelligence truly was impressive.
They relayed the movements of Saladin's army almost in real time.
But even they could not discern his plan.
"If we had a little more time, we could have known."
"You need more time when the city is already surrounded?"
I replied with a laugh.
Sinan frowned and withdrew to the other side of the wall.
Just then, a cavalryman burst from Saladin's camp.
He threw up a cloud of dust as he rode toward the wall where we stood.
Several soldiers hurriedly raised bows and crossbows.
"A messenger! Lower your bows!"
Garnier shouted as he ran up.
Aig came running beside him.
"Commander of the brave warriors—Sultan Saladin wishes to meet Prince Baldwin of the royal house of Jerusalem!"
The Saracen cavalryman shouted up at the wall.
"I have heard the Prince is here in Hama! Or is he not?!"
"…."
"This is a trick."
Garnier whispered.
"They mean to draw you out and—"
"Saladin won't do that."
I said with a smile.
Saladin was a man obsessed with honor.
That was his weakness—and his strength.
Still, I couldn't hand him the initiative.
I called out.
"Tell the Sultan this! I, Prince Baldwin, invite him into Hama!"
"That is—!"
The messenger frowned.
Yes. Saladin would not enter the city.
I laughed.
"Then tell him to meet in the middle. The Sultan and I—each with only an escort."
This time Aig leaned in and whispered.
"My Prince—if they try anything…"
"Then we can try something too. It's not as if only they're allowed."
I replied with a smile.
If anything, it was an opportunity.
I was the one with the sixth sense.
If I faced Saladin directly, I could learn his intent.
A siege—or a withdrawal.
Aig let out a sigh.
"Then I'll go get Bult. I should prepare as well. You can't go alone, can you?"
"Thank you, Aig."
I looked toward the distant tents.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
The famous hero of Islam was right in front of me.
Who exactly was Saladin?
A Sunni of Kurdish origin.
He served under Nur ad-Din with his father and rose to power in Egypt.
When Nur ad-Din died, he became Sultan and took Syria.
This time, even the north.
The man who reclaimed the Kingdom of Jerusalem and founded the Ayyubid realm.
The man who faced King Richard I head-on.
A figure more famous in the West than in Islam.
Centuries later, the German Emperor Wilhelm II would donate a marble sarcophagus for him.
I watched him approach from afar.
The exact midpoint between Hama's walls and the camp.
The sun beat down, heating the ground.
It was hard even to breathe.
I should have gone to his tent instead.
Saladin advanced toward us with his escort.
A turban wrapped around his head.
A long beard and chainmail that covered even his neck.
Calm eyes.
Exactly as he looked in the game.
As if by prior agreement, we both stepped forward at the same time.
Close enough to see the pores on his skin.
We stared at each other in silence.
Saladin smiled faintly.
"You're about the same height as my son, Prince Baldwin."
His accent was strong, but not so strong I couldn't understand.
"I knew you were young, but seeing you face to face feels… strange."
His son was around my age?
It wasn't impossible.
I studied his face.
Old enough to be my father.
He continued.
"I still remember the letter you sent me. You said we would meet in Jerusalem. It seems we meet first here in Hama."
"We will meet again soon in Jerusalem."
I looked at him.
Saladin had gained power under the banner of retaking the Holy City.
A clash between him and the Kingdom of Jerusalem was inevitable.
Two trains racing toward each other, unable to stop.
"It may be so. But what matters today is not al-Quds."
He raised a hand and pointed at Hama's walls.
"Aleppo and Mosul are already in my hands. You took these cities while Mas'ud and I fought—Muslim cities."
"Before the Muslims conquered them, they were lands of the Roman Empire."
"You know your history, Prince."
Saladin smiled.
A gentle smile, like a neighbor's.
"Then you must also know that your Franks have no chance. The Kingdom of Jerusalem is but a pebble cast into the vast sea of Islam."
He continued.
"The armies that follow the jihad already number more than fifty thousand. Soon, more than twice that will gather."
"Thank you for giving me such detailed numbers."
"I am giving you the chance to save your lives."
He scoffed as if it were nothing.
"Even if we suffer losses, we can replenish our forces without end. Volunteers pour in every day, even from Baghdad."
He went on.
"We Muslims will sweep you away like an angry tide. How much longer do you think you can endure before you are driven into the sea?"
"…."
"Only when the water reaches your throat will you flail and seek mercy and salvation. But there is no need to worry."
He spoke calmly.
"Allah is forgiving, and grants mercy and forbearance. You will all convert and find the truth."
"…."
I looked at him without speaking.
My heart hammered wildly.
"No captain fears a calm sea."
I spoke.
"Behind Jerusalem stand Rome, Europe, and Constantinople."
I could return words like that as well.
"There are tens of millions of Christians there—kingdoms and nations and tribes. Even now, volunteers, funds, weapons, and supplies pour into the ports every day."
My voice rose little by little.
"When flame rises, it can burn river and sea alike."
I waved off Garnier and Aig as they tried to step closer.
"Above all, your army is made of emirs. If you cannot take Jerusalem, do you think they will follow you?"
"…."
Silence fell.
I felt his emotion.
There was no anger.
Rather…
Interest?
He burst into laughter.
I waited, expressionless, until he stopped.
"Tens of millions of Christians. Your words are not wrong. Allah has made men check one another, so this land does not rot."
He smiled faintly.
"A hundred years ago, Allah let you take al-Quds and imposed hardship upon us Muslims. Now it is our turn to overcome hardship and reclaim the holy city."
He added,
"In a hundred years, who knows what will be. But what matters is now."
"What matters is now."
"And now…"
Saladin pointed to the walls.
"My army surrounds this place and Homs. You know you have no chance. Withdraw from the city at once."
He continued.
"If you surrender the city, I will guarantee your Franks a safe retreat. Take as much plunder as you like. But if you refuse, I cannot guarantee what will happen."
A brief silence followed.
I stared him straight in the eyes.
His emotions were like a lake.
A lake without a ripple.
I had to read it.
Read it…
I sensed a faint impatience and unease.
Was he worried about casualties?
No.
It was bluster.
So he didn't have the leisure to force a siege, after all.
"Damascus must be more urgent."
I looked past him at the great host and spoke slowly.
"We are ready to fight as long as it takes. If you want to try, then try."
"Think carefully before you answer, Prince. Allah promises mercy. But there is no mercy for those who resist to the end."
"I have thought carefully."
I replied with a smile.
"And I will promise you this. If you lift the siege and leave, we will not pursue."
We didn't have the troops to pursue anyway.
Silence fell.
Saladin spoke again.
"You are an interesting man, Prince. A little different from what I expected."
"That's what everyone says."
"Be satisfied with your small victory. Hama and Homs are pebbles on the shore. We will soon take them back."
Saladin smiled faintly.
"...."
I looked at him in silence.
The heat blurred my vision.
"It seems you are not used to the northern sun. I will have my men—"
He added,
"Send you some frozen fruit. Nothing works better against the heat than frozen fruit."
"I should thank you."
I replied with a smile.
I felt like I had seen this somewhere before.
A film I had watched until the DVD wore thin in the military academy's multimedia room.
The one with Baldwin IV and Saladin…
In that film, the two gathered their armies before Kerak.
They faced each other just before battle.
That film was why I had grown interested in this era.
I remembered the line Baldwin IV had said there…
"As-salāmu ʿalaykum."
I dipped my head slightly.
Saladin looked at me as if surprised.
"Wa ʿalaykumu s-salām."
He laughed again.
"I truly hope Allah's peace is with you as well. Next time, I will wait in al-Quds, Prince Baldwin."
He turned his horse and headed back toward his camp.
Aig came closer.
"Are you all right, Prince?"
"I'm just hot."
I said.
"The frozen fruit will help."
At my sudden remark, Aig tilted his head.
I smiled.
"Tell the city. Saladin's army will withdraw soon."
I looked again toward Saladin's camp.
A train that could not stop.
His conviction and will were firm.
"At least for now."