CHAPTER 65: SON OF NUR AL-DIN

Chapter 65: Son of Nur al-Din

At this moment, in the distant March of Austria, within a palace in Vienna, the red-robed witch snuggled in the arms of the spirited Count Leopold.

He waved a letter in his hand and laughed, "Ha, I truly wasn’t mistaken about this Lothar! He’s a capable man. Coupled with the connections left by his staid and serious father, this investment is absolutely worthwhile."

"What about him?" The red-robed witch blinked, somewhat puzzled.

"He has already gained Baldwin IV’s high regard and has been granted a castle as a fief. Now he has written to me, hoping I will fulfill our original agreement."

"A castle?"

"Yeah, I don’t know where it is, but judging by the name, it must be an extremely old castle left behind from when the Eastern Empire ruled the Holy Land. In short, this is something worth celebrating."

Then, he clasped his hands behind his back, his expression turning somewhat grave. "It’s just a pity that my departure for the Holy Land will have to be postponed again. His Majesty the Emperor has issued me a summons. If I still want to plan to separate the Austrian March from Bavaria and elevate it to the Duchy of Austria, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to answer the call."

Count Leopold wasn’t an overly devout man, but he was intent on going on the Eastern Crusade, to make a great name for himself and seize the rich treasures of the East. If he could obtain a fief in the East, that would be even better. And if Lothar could establish a firm foothold in the Holy Land, he would become a powerful ally.

***

The County of Aargau. Hawk Castle.

Count Werner broke the wax seal on the letter and carefully read the missive from across the distant Mediterranean Sea. Unconsciously, a rare smile touched the lips of this man, whose personality was usually as hard and cold as a stubborn rock.

Otto looked at the smile on Count Werner’s face with some confusion and asked, "Father, what has happened to make you so happy?"

Count Werner immediately wiped the smile from his face. He tossed the letter to Otto. "I knew it! Those two goblets, it was you who stole them and gave them to Lothar! He has stated it quite clearly in his letter."

Otto’s face changed dramatically. "He specifically wrote back just to sell me out?"

"Heh." Count Werner couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He patted Otto’s shoulder, an inexplicably gratified expression on his face. "Lothar is already a baron and is highly regarded by His Majesty. Perhaps the next time he returns, the title he holds will be even more illustrious than yours or mine."

Envy flickered across Otto’s face, but it was quickly replaced by worry. "I would be delighted to see that day, but Saladin... that is a very terrifying infidel monarch."

Count Werner nodded. "Indeed. Back then, luck played a large part in our ability to defeat him. Now, he has consolidated most of the forces under his command; he is even harder to deal with."

***

When Lothar emerged from the royal palace, it was already noon. Castellan Leonard scurried over obsequiously, holding the reins of the warhorse. "Holy Son! What did His Majesty say to you?"

Lothar stopped, his face becoming very serious. "I warn you, Leonard, do not call me by that title again. The Holy Son is spiritual, while I am merely a secular lord."

"Y-yes, Milord." Leonard was greatly startled by Lothar’s sudden anger.

"Leonard, I know you only keep using that title out of reverence for me. But you must understand, whether in Jerusalem or the even more distant Papal City, no one would like a living Holy Son."

As if struck by some terrifying possibility, cold sweat beaded on Leonard’s forehead. "No, Milord, I understand! I will never utter such a title again in the future!"

Lothar nodded. "If there is a next time, your head will not remain securely on your neck." He swung himself onto his horse and, without waiting for Leonard, led his retinue towards Constance Manor.

Halfway there, a hooded man suddenly darted out. Lothar instinctively drew his weapon and pointed it at him. The man said in a low voice, "Milord, I mean no harm. Please follow me. An important person wishes to see you."

The hooded man only revealed a chin covered in bluish stubble; there was no emblem or anything else on him that could prove his identity.

"What kind of important person needs to be so secretive in the Holy Land?"

"You need not be wary; we are by no means your enemies."

"Heh." Seeing Lothar unmoved, the man sighed deeply and said, "You may bring your witches and some of your guards. Please forgive my master’s unavoidable circumstances that prevent him from meeting you openly. Once you arrive, you will know which important person it is."

Lothar pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Lead the way."

They eventually arrived at a dilapidated inn. Lothar immediately recognized the black-robed man standing at the inn’s entrance. "Abdullah!" Lothar’s face was filled with pleasant surprise. "Are you the so-called important person?"

A smile also appeared on Abdullah’s face; a reunion after a long separation was always a joyous occasion. But he shook his head and said, "I can hardly be considered an important person. The one who wishes to see you is my young lord." He pointed inside. "Follow me."

Following his gesture, Lothar saw a young man clad in a silk outer coat. He wore many expensive ornaments, possessing the characteristic opulence of an Eastern noble. Clearly, this was also a Kurdish noble.

"I am as-Salih Ismail al-Malik, son of Nur al-Din Zengi, King of Syria, the true master of Aleppo."

Lothar looked at this dark-skinned, sharp-eyed man before him and asked doubtfully, "As-Salih? Weren’t you already dead from illness?"

This as-Salih was the heir to King Nur al-Din’s power after his death. He had been kept under house arrest by Saladin in Aleppo, and news of his death from illness had spread a few years ago.

Lothar knew this because Saladin had once served King Nur al-Din and subsequently rebelled, a fact that Crusader nobles often used to attack Saladin’s character. In reality, Lothar felt that any other king wouldn’t have merely kept this as-Salih under "house arrest."

"Merely a body double," as-Salih said coldly. "If not for that, I could never have escaped Saladin’s grasp. That rebellious man intended to imprison me for fifteen years, just as my father imprisoned Raynald! Perhaps even until I died!"

Nur al-Din of the Zengid Dynasty, this man’s father, had once captured Count Raynald and imprisoned him for fifteen long years. During that time, Raynald’s first wife had passed away, which also caused Raynald to lose his title as Duke of Antioch.

That was why Raynald harbored such hatred for the "Zoroastrians," even repeatedly attacking infidel merchant caravans passing through his lands, turning a perfectly good trade route into chaos. From a long-term perspective, maintaining that trade route would clearly have been more beneficial to him.

If Raynald discovered that Nur al-Din’s son was in Jerusalem, he wouldn’t care about any bigger picture and would immediately lead troops to mince as-Salih into paste.

"Then, respected King as-Salih, you may state your purpose for coming."

"I want to retake Aleppo, even all of Syria! It is currently occupied by Saladin’s lackey, Sa’d al-Din. It feels as if, at every moment, I can hear it wailing, calling out to me."

Lothar smiled. "I can understand your feelings. But I don’t understand what use I can be to you. I am just a minor baron."

As-Salih snorted lightly. "I know your status is not prominent, but you are highly regarded by your king. I want you to introduce me to Baldwin. As a token of gratitude, I am willing to gift you ten beautiful female slaves and a Damascus scimitar."

Lothar agreed readily. "I will convey your wish for an audience with my King, but I cannot guarantee His Majesty will agree to meet you. At the same time, I hope to convert your gift of gratitude into something else."

As-Salih said magnanimously, "What do you desire? As the master of Aleppo, though currently displaced, my wealth still far exceeds the imagination of a Frankish barba... noble like you."

Lothar pointed at Abdullah and said, "I wish to obtain Abdullah’s fealty."

As-Salih fell silent. Abdullah looked astonished, wanting to speak but hesitating.

After a long while, as-Salih shook his head. "No. Abdullah is my loyal warrior, a trusted subordinate, not a Ghilman slave. I have no right to order him to pledge fealty to an infidel."

Lothar could clearly see Abdullah let out a sigh of relief.

He sighed inwardly himself, then had no choice but to say, "War is coming. I need warhorses, or gold and silver coins. Only these two things can increase my strength in a short time."

"No problem. I will give you ten fine steeds. That should be enough, right?"

Lothar nodded. "Of course. Thank you for your generosity, Master of Aleppo." Lothar paused, then added, "Abdullah is an exceptionally outstanding warrior. You have made a wise decision."

As-Salih laughed heartily. "Of course! If I could exchange gold and silver for warriors like Abdullah, I would willingly give all I have."