Episode 238
Saladin’s fears had come true.
The citizens of Ayyub, along with the imams and amirs, were completely intoxicated by their recent monumental victory.
In just three months, they had brought the mighty empire of the Almohads to its knees and captured their king.
It was an unprecedented, almost miraculous, swift victory that defied all expectations.
Their opponent wasn’t some insignificant small state, and even if it were, ending a war in three months was nearly impossible.
Naturally, they saw this as divine intervention.
“The impious Caliph al-Nasir defied God’s will and rejected the true faith, and now he faces divine retribution!”
“Glory to the Sultan who became God’s sword and conquered the Almohads! Long live Saladin!”
“Long live Saladin! Long live al-Adil!”
Everyone knew that the campaign was launched under the pretext of punishing the tyrant al-Nasir, who falsely claimed the title of Caliph, and protecting the true believers.
The fervor wasn’t limited to Cairo; even Damascus, the former capital, was no different.
As feared, rumors spread that the Apostle Marshal was coming to Cairo to personally abolish the title of Caliph.
Upon hearing this, the imams lined up daily to offer their counsel to Saladin.
“Your Majesty! This is an unparalleled opportunity.”
“Indeed! We must act before the Apostle arrives. Execute the impious Caliph immediately and prove that you are the true executor of the Apostle’s will.”
“Al-Nasir not only defied the true faith but also the Apostle himself. The faithful demand his execution without end. You must make a decision, Your Majesty.”
“Goodness… You all know one thing but not the other. Do you really think the Apostle wants the Caliph executed?”
Saladin knew Marshal’s disposition better than anyone.
What Marshal, or rather the God who sent him, despised most were bloodshed, violence, and doctrinal disputes.
Executing the Caliph for heresy would be a perfect storm of all three.
Yet, the imams, seemingly oblivious to this simple fact, continued to press for al-Nasir’s swift execution.
No matter how much he explained, it was like talking to a wall. They kept chanting for execution and divine punishment, giving him a headache.
Saladin could usually ignore the imams and amirs, but this situation was different.
The other side was invoking the Apostle, and responding aggressively could escalate into a doctrinal conflict.
Saladin was confident that the Apostle would side with him upon arrival.
But arguing with the imams and amirs was stressful and unproductive.
Moreover, if the devout imams saw the Apostle siding with Saladin, they might become even more troublesome, asking for their own punishment.
The best course was to let their words pass by without taking them to heart.
“Your Majesty! The Apostle may not desire religious violence, but this is different. Al-Nasir committed a grave sin by denying fundamental doctrine.”
“True, the Apostle might not want an execution. But by handling this ourselves, we could ease his burden.”
“That’s called excessive loyalty. I’ve spoken with the Apostle many times, and he despises such empty formalities.”
“So, Your Majesty, do you not believe al-Nasir’s crimes warrant execution?”
Here we go again.
The favorite tactic of the stubborn amirs and imams.
But Saladin was no novice.
He had long mastered the art of sidestepping these tiresome debates.
“If you ask whether it’s a capital offense, I’d say yes.”
“Then…”
“But is execution truly the best option? You seem to think it’s the ultimate punishment, but it’s not that simple.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean?”
“What if the Apostle has a different punishment in mind for al-Nasir? Perhaps a life of suffering, paying for his sins against God, might be worse than death.”
The advocates for execution fell silent.
They began to sense the possibility.
After all, the Apostle was God’s true emissary, capable of anything.
“But if we execute him prematurely and deny the Apostle the chance to pass judgment, and he becomes enraged, can you take responsibility? I can’t.”
“Y-yes, Your Majesty’s words make sense.”
“Right? So, we’ll keep al-Nasir alive and await the Apostle’s decision. Whether to spare or take his life, it’s up to him.”
Some might say Saladin was passing the buck, but in truth, the other side had brought this problem to him.
They should share the responsibility.
Saladin, feeling his body not quite cooperating these days, waved off the imams like swatting away flies.
What decision would the Apostle make?
Saladin awaited the arrival of the Apostle and Philip II with anticipation.
On a day when the Mediterranean sun blazed hotter than ever, the ship carrying me and Philip II finally reached Egypt.
Without news from the continent while at sea, I had no idea how events had unfolded during our journey.
“Al-Nasir was transported to Cairo just the day before yesterday?”
“Yes. The atmosphere there is frenzied, with calls for execution timed with our arrival.”
“The timing is quite coincidental.”
“Ayyub made al-Nasir out to be the worst of humanity to justify their intervention in the Almohads. Naturally, there’s a clamor to dispose of such trash.”
I recalled the events in Jerusalem.
Al-Nasir was proud and arrogant, but he wasn’t beyond redemption. How had he fallen so far?
“Execution, execution. No matter how much I advise against it, perceptions don’t change overnight.”
“Of course not. This isn’t just a regional issue. In England, France, or the Holy Roman Empire, anyone denying the Apostle would face execution… or worse, be stoned to death by an enraged mob.”
“What would you do, Your Majesty, if such a person appeared?”
I heard that Saladin had confined al-Nasir somewhere in the city, awaiting my judgment.
It was the best approach, given my imminent visit.
Had I decided to hold this meeting in Paris, Saladin wouldn’t have been able to use this tactic.
“Well, there’s a morally sound answer, but I’d be lying to the Prophet, so I’ll be honest.”
“That’s why I enjoy our conversations, Your Majesty.”
“Haha, please don’t be angry. I wouldn’t sentence him to death, nor would I forgive him. I’d simply let slip the transport schedule, allowing the angry mob to handle the rest.”
“A truly ingenious solution.”
It was a very Philip II-like solution, perfect for a ruler wanting to avoid direct involvement.
However, it was merely a stopgap, highlighting the need for clear guidelines.
“I’ll meet with al-Nasir first and then decide.”
I didn’t want my religion to devolve into fanaticism, but some form of sanction was necessary for those who denied its authority.
For the organization to endure, certain principles had to be upheld.
Denying the Apostle, the pinnacle of the faith, was the gravest sin imaginable.
How I handled this would set a precedent for the future.
First, I needed to see the face of our deranged Caliph and make a decision.
Just before entering Cairo, I sent a messenger to Saladin, requesting a meeting with al-Nasir.
I wanted to resolve the matter before entering the city, where the excited crowds might act unpredictably.
Al-Adil, who brought al-Nasir, dismounted and bowed respectfully upon seeing me.
“Greetings, Apostle! You’ve endured much traveling from Paris to here. We’ve prepared everything for you to rest and recover in Cairo.”
“Thank you. Is the Sultan well?”
“He’s aged, so his strength has waned a bit, but he’s still in good health.”
“That’s good to hear. Once this matter is settled, I’ll visit the Sultan in Cairo.”
“Yes. The self-proclaimed Caliph al-Nasir is securely bound over there.”
Turning my gaze, I saw a haggard man, looking far too shabby for someone who was once a king, even as a prisoner.
If he were treated as a king, even in captivity, he wouldn’t be in such a state.
However, since Ayub had already concluded that the very title of “Caliph” was blasphemous, he refused to treat An-Nasir as a king.
I approached him slowly and spoke.
“It’s been a while since we last met in Jerusalem. Looks like you’ve been through a lot.”
”…”
An-Nasir looked up at me with hollow eyes.
He was completely bound to the cart, unable to move anything but his eyes.
I asked again, my voice devoid of any emotion.
“If there’s something you want, feel free to say it. If you want to live, you can say that too. I don’t necessarily intend to kill you.”
At my words, An-Nasir’s lips trembled slightly, the first sign of any reaction.
After a moment of opening and closing his mouth, a raspy voice finally emerged.
“First, I’d like to know why I’ve ended up like this.”
I had heard so much about his madness that I expected him to be nearly insane, but his eyes and voice were surprisingly clear.
Perhaps during the journey here, he had time to think and regain some of his senses.
In that case, he might still be of some use.
“Curious, are you? I’ll tell you. But first, answer this: do you want to live, or do you want to die?”
No sooner had I finished the question than An-Nasir let out a dry laugh, as if the question was absurd.
“Of course, I want to live. Who would choose death…?”
Good, good. That makes things easier.
I smiled with satisfaction and called for Al-Adil, who had been watching from behind.