kingdom of nations

Chapter 76 To Egypt! (7)

How ironic! The Franks were shouting, "Revenge!" and the Saracens were shouting, "Revenge!"

This thought flashed through Cesar's mind quickly, but did not hinder his actions at all. He jumped up and put one hand on Geoffrey's shoulder. Light poured down like a stream of water, forming a large shield in the shape of scales on the Templar's back.

The Saracen arrows fell like a rainstorm - just like every time before, they used arrows to disrupt and kill the enemy. This method was undoubtedly quite effective when the enemy was unprepared and even had women and children around them, but today, these arrows all missed.

The "maid" that Cesar was leaning on rolled over and into the back of the box when Cesar jumped up. There were a few sounds of arrows, and several arrows blew past his hair and ears, almost pinning his cloak to the ground, but he was not hurt at all.

Geoffrey shouted before he rose, and the knights immediately drew their shields from all directions or took shelter behind the carriage.

This Roman-style four-wheeled carriage is generally used to transport goods. It has a semi-cylindrical arch, three sides are closed, and one side has an openable door.

Now the door was opened, and four fully armed knights jumped out of the carriage. They rushed towards the two-wheeled carriage and lifted the cowhide covering it. Under the cowhide were their weapons, hammers, swords and flails.

The escorts on the side had already brought their horses, and they jumped on them and galloped towards the Saracens!

The Saracen leader's face suddenly changed. They were fooled!
The ominous premonition was not groundless. The prophet had warned them long ago, but he hesitated several times between stopping immediately and stopping for the last time. In the end, luck overcame reason.

It was also because the scouts he sent out had already told other young people about their discoveries. When he appeared again, they were already ready and eager to try.

Even after he proposed that there should be no killing or harming of women and children in this battle, these young men did not look disappointed at all, which made him imagine that perhaps things were not as bad as the elders said.

After they finished the battle and demanded a ransom from the Franks, they could say goodbye to their families and go to Damascus to find Saladin of Zengid.

He had fought under Saladin and knew that he was a kind and fair man who would not deny the achievements of his subordinates because of their different religious beliefs.

Now he didn't dare to think about how many warriors he could bring back. The leader's desperate howl pierced the dark dome. He was calling on the Saracens to return to them as soon as possible.

There were fifty-one of them, giving them the advantage in numbers. However, if more than two of these knights were favored by the prophet, their numerical advantage would almost disappear. If there were more than three, they would inevitably be at a disadvantage...

What if there are more than five?

The leader watched the knight running in the front stretch out his hands, calling out, and the prophet cast his favor on him. When he encountered the first Saracen warrior, a broad and long cross sword was tightly grasped in his hand.

Blood was scattered along with the light, and wails and laughter echoed in people's ears. The limbs of people and horses collapsed to both sides, and the tall knight like a devil and his mount passed through like lightning!
The second Saracen warrior who encountered him suffered the same fate as his companions before he could even understand what was happening.

He also saw that the "noble lady" who had been surrounded by knights stood up and was almost as tall as another knight.

In the same way, no, it should be said that the light filled him was even greater than the sum of all people. He tore open his velvet robe without hesitation, revealing the chain mail underneath, and rode on the white Arab horse.

If the previous knight was an indestructible sword, then this young and beautiful Frank was like a giant hammer. When he came with the sound of the wind, the sound of his horse's hooves was like boulders rolling down.

He rushed straight towards the leader's warriors, like a hurricane sweeping up fish from the sea, and no one could resist or escape.

Seeing this scene, the leader understood even more clearly that, as he had worried at the beginning, this was an open net waiting for them to fall into it. He became more and more anxious and did not even hear the elders' dissuasion. He once again ordered the warriors to move closer to him, perhaps by gathering everyone's strength, they could break through.

But his call had a bad result. At first, the warriors were able to fight hard, but after hearing his shout, some of them wanted or had to continue fighting; some wanted to retreat and escape from this terrible trap; and some even hesitated, not knowing what to do.

Only a few warriors were able to cross the gaps in the battlefield and gather around him.

The leader looked at the warriors with a pale face, then turned to the elders. It was too late to say anything now: "May Allah bless you."

He said that before the elder could react, he pulled his horse's reins, forced the horse to turn its head to the north, and then stabbed the horse's buttocks with a knife. The elder's horse let out a painful neigh, raised its front hooves into the air, and suddenly flew out, running a long distance in an instant.

Then he turned to the young men, "Escape or die fighting!?"

"Fight to death!"

"Fight to death!"

“Die in battle!”…

The leader stopped talking and looked at the battlefield again. Only those despicable Franks were left on the battlefield. Among the fifty-one people, there were less than ten soldiers and himself, except for the elders. Hatred and despair flashed in his eyes, and he drew his sword.

This time, both sides tacitly agreed not to shout, they collided with each other in silence - the outcome was obvious, this time, whether it was Amalric I or the other two major knightly orders, as well as the lords and dukes who came from afar, had already determined that this battle did not require any prisoners.

Even without those knights blessed by God, they, wearing chain mail and holding hammers and swords, were far superior to the Saracen warriors who had only bows and arrows, wooden shields and long swords, and could only wear quilted cotton robes or even everyday clothes.

Only the chieftain wore mail under his deep-lapeled coat, a skull-helm beneath his fur-trimmed hat, and carried a black iron mace and a straight-bladed sword tucked under his saddle.

But how can an ordinary 'Kayede' be compared with a Templar Knight like Walter or even Geoffrey, who has been blessed by God?

Although the leader was prepared to "never be the last to die", when Geoffrey swung his hammer, knocked a young Saracen warrior off his horse, and then swung his hammer back to knock the leader off, he could only faint from pain.

Walter galloped over, his head lowered as he looked at the man on the ground who was clearly different from the other civilian warriors. "Why did you keep him?"

"Amalric I asked me to do something for him."

"Oh." Walter understood and wiped the blood off his face. In fact, there was no need to do so. His whole body was covered with splattered blood, all of which belonged to the Saracens. Or rather, it was not only that, but also various body fluids and organ fragments.

He and his horse were half-stained red, and if they didn't wash properly in the river or lake, Geoffrey thought it would attract the devils of hell to celebrate the birth of the new king. "Where's César?"

"I sent him after a Saracen who had escaped," said Geoffrey.

"Are there any Saracens willing to escape?" Walter asked in surprise.

"Judging from his clothes, he should be their elder." The elder of the Saracens is their priest. He holds an important position in the village and city. He teaches students, leads the tribe, and conveys the will of God.

Although the elders sometimes participated in the battle, it would not be surprising if they decided to let him escape.

Cesar had thought he would be able to chase for a long distance, but that was not the case. In the end, it could not even be said that he had caught up with the Saracen. It was more like he had finally reined in his horse, and when he got close enough, the old Saracen just sat on his horse and looked at him calmly.

When the old man saw the newcomer's face clearly in the bright sunlight, he first showed a look of horror, and then a hint of anger. "I don't know how you got here, woman, and I will not be your captive," he said sternly. "If they think they can humiliate me like this, they are gravely mistaken."

"I'm not a woman." Cesar pulled down his headscarf - his Adam's apple was slightly protruding, although it was not very obvious, but Damara still gave him a white headscarf that could cover all his hair and hide his neck.

However, the elders have discovered that they were wrong. Cesar has the light bestowed by the prophet. Whether it is the Franks or the Saracens, only men can hold the "selection ceremony".

Not only were women not allowed to perform this ceremony, but even peeping was a crime - a noble lady once attempted to commit an act of usurpation, but was subsequently caught by the priests, and even though her father was a duke, she was sentenced to life imprisonment.

"This is your plan."

"To catch you," Cesar said. "You have committed a crime."

"Weren't you the ones who committed the crime first?" the old man asked. "When our Caliph ruled here, he treated the Isaacs and Christians with leniency. He allowed them to trade and live in the city. He allowed them to build their own temples and elect their own elders and scholars. As long as they were willing to submit and pay tribute, they could even retain some of their original power.

Even if Christians wanted to come for pilgrimage, they were allowed to pass through the territory of the Caliphate and worship God and the Prophet with us in the temples of the Holy Land.

And how did you treat us? When we thought that the people coming from the other side of the sea were friends, your swords had already pierced our chests!
"Look," he opened his arms, "there are warriors from seventeen villages gathered here, but before you came, they were just ordinary craftsmen and farmers. They made a living with their own hands, prayed every day, and treated any stranger with the kindness of their hearts.

You came and asked for food from us, and we gave it to you; you asked for shelter from us, and we gave it to you; you asked for livestock from us, and we gave it to you; then you asked for women from us, our wives, sisters, and daughters, and you burned our orchards, shot down all the birds, and caught every fish.

You are greedy, cruel and vicious. You are not like human beings, but more like a group of giant locusts. You have eaten up all our food and want to eat us too. Then, you say here that we have committed a crime. What crime have we committed? To punish a group of sinners?

The old man asked, and even at this point, his tone was still very calm, as if he was just explaining some ordinary things, but it was this calmness that seemed to contain a cloud of huge storm, making people breathless.

"...if the person you are punishing is indeed a sinner." Cesar said.

"It is you who came to us, not us who came to you--" said the old man.

"I have tried to persuade them before, but child, I did so because I didn't want them to become devils like you. It's not that I didn't feel their pain—you feel it too, right, since you are here."

"I promised... that those who committed crimes would receive due retribution."

"Only Saracens?"

"If you ask me..." Cesar said, "Everyone."

The old man's eyes widened slightly. He looked at this young man, who was as beautiful as a star. He had just risen, he had just blossomed. He was a strong but still immature young beast. "Are you a prince?"

"No, I am not."

"Are you a lord's son, then?"

"Not at all."

"Then you are at least the son of a knight."

"Unfortunately, I lost my memory. When I woke up, I was just an Isaac slave. He was about to sell me to the Fatimid or Byzantine courts. It was Amalric I who saved me."

The old man didn't show the disgust and contempt Cesar had expected. "Pearls in the sand always shine brighter than pearls on velvet... Your thoughts transcend any crown, but it's a pity for someone like you..." He said, "Perhaps this is the ending the prophet wrote for us, and it's up to you to complete it."

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply: "Are they asking you to kill me or take me back?"

"Perhaps there is no difference between the two," Cesar said, "but you can kneel down now and pray to your gods—

I know Saracens also perform the Last Sacraments, perhaps a little differently, but if I take you back they might not allow you to pray—you didn't let those girls pray, did you?
But I can forgive you, because a Saracen also forgave my servant."

The old man gave a bitter smile.

He knelt down and prayed to God for himself and the other Saracens.

----

"Hey, we've been waiting for you!" Geoffrey shouted. "Come on! There's something good going on!"

(End of this chapter)