"We began transporting sooner than expected."
Count Joscelin spoke.
Masyaf Fortress.
Sunlight fell over the heaps of stone.
The count and I stood atop the walls, looking down at the wagons and carts below.
Mules and horses groaned as they hauled the loads.
"We must hurry further. The transport must be completed before Saladin arrives."
I said.
In the end, Sinan had accepted my proposal.
We transported supplies through the Assassin strongholds and the mountain paths.
It had to be finished somehow before Saladin reached Hama and Homs.
It was effectively a race against time.
'At least there are many fortresses between Aleppo and Damascus.'
Saladin could not march straight through. He advanced step by step.
The fact that he had to pass from well to well in the summer heat also worked in our favor.
"By now, His Majesty's army should have entered the outskirts of Damascus."
Joscelin said.
"Saladin will soon realize his mistake. He will have no choice but to turn his army around."
"Saladin will have prepared countermeasures of his own."
I shook my head.
He was no fool.
He must have calculated the risks before making his decision.
He would have established at least some form of contingency.
"He has likely withdrawn a considerable portion of his forces to prepare defenses."
It would be difficult for the Jerusalem army to breach the walls of Damascus and seize the city.
Saladin's strategy was ultimately this:
'Give the flesh—the outskirts of Damascus—and take the bone—northern Aleppo.'
How long Aleppo could endure.
That would determine the outcome.
Reinforcing Aleppo, the allied fleet pressuring Egypt, pressure on Damascus.
All of it had to align without the slightest error.
"Only then can we force Saladin to abandon the campaign."
"It will succeed. His Majesty himself has assured us of that."
Joscelin said.
I looked at him.
The Count of Edessa.
The County of Edessa had fallen to the Muslims; in truth, his title remained in name only.
If he were handled properly—like Balian—he might be secured as an ally.
It would require time.
He spoke again.
"What concerns me at present are these Saracens. They will turn their blades at the slightest opportunity."
"As long as it benefits them, they will honor the contract."
"…."
"Sinan is a man who values practical gain above all. He will not endanger his own life for the sake of belief."
It had been the same in Last Crusaders.
The Assassins were a very unique faction.
Among the Islamic powers, they were the only one with a possible route of conversion to Christianity.
They already permitted meat and wine; perhaps such a thing would not even be so strange.
"What they fear most is the unification of the Sunnis. Not us Crusaders."
They had reason enough.
The Sunni militia known as Nubuwiyya.
They rode openly, attacking Shi'ites—particularly those of the Ismaili branch.
Killing them, seizing their property, enslaving them.
Sunni leaders like Saladin did not stop them. Rather, they expanded their territories amid the chaos.
"You seem to know the Saracens in great detail, my Prince. I knew they snarled at one another, but…"
Joscelin trailed off.
"I did not know it to this extent."
"I know many things."
I said with a smile.
Last Crusaders.
How many hours had I played it?
But it had been a game.
A simulation game praised for near-perfect historical accuracy.
Everything I had experienced so far was identical to the game.
From the portraits to the dispositions of the leaders and their circumstances.
Even down to detailed troop numbers and positions.
The absurd traits I possessed were the same.
[Innate Charisma]
[Unexplainable Sixth Sense]
I was more charming and persuasive than before.
And I possessed, in effect, a sixth sense that allowed me to perceive nearly everything.
Had I entered Last Crusaders?
Or had that game been created based on reality?
I looked around.
The wind brushing my face on the Levantine plateau.
The air—both humid and refreshing at once.
This was real.
That was certain.
To begin with, Last Crusaders itself had been strange.
Supplies, spies, food, economy, strategy, morale, technology, weather, politics.
There had been dozens upon dozens of factors for the player to manage.
The level of detail had been so absurd that rumors spread the developers were aliens.
'If the game had been a kind of training….'
I shook my head.
There was no answer to be found by brooding alone.
What needed to be done was clear.
'I must keep moving.'
My very existence was already changing everything.
I had to understand the enemy and devise responses to new strategies.
A single misstep meant death by spear or sword.
If the Kingdom of Jerusalem fell, I would die as well.
Like walking a tightrope, I had to keep moving to survive.
"By the way, there are not a few Christians in Aleppo, Hama, and Homs. We should bring them to our side during this opportunity."
I said.
"I will entrust you with selecting whom to approach, Count. I will provide the necessary funds."
"If Your Highness so desires…."
Joscelin nodded.
A faint look of surprise crossed his face.
He had not expected me to entrust him with such a matter?
In any case, it gave him a chance to accumulate merit.
He nodded again.
"So it shall be."
Cyprus.
War council chamber.
"We must strike Damietta as originally planned!"
Hugh slammed his fist on the table.
He looked at Ruaak standing opposite him.
"And now you suggest turning the fleet toward Jaffa? Does that make sense?"
"The Egyptian fleet has laid siege to Jaffa."
Ruaak replied stiffly.
"Would you have Jaffa fall into Saracen hands?"
"There is no chance Jaffa will fall to such a minor attack. Of course, as an outsider, you may not know…."
Hugh scoffed.
He tapped repeatedly at the map where Jaffa was marked.
"They have no land forces. How do you suppose they will seize the city using ships alone?"
"So we are to ignore the request for aid. A most knightly answer."
"To save Jaffa, the quickest method is to strike Damietta! No—indeed, it is the only way to force them to lift the siege!"
Hugh shouted.
Each time he raised his voice, his silver mask shifted slightly.
"They are waiting for us to sail to Jaffa. Can you not see such an obvious trap?!"
He crossed his arms.
"I thought you were capable in Constantinople, but to be this foolish. Tsk."
"You would do well to mind your words. Without the Roman navy, you would not even have dared to set out—"
"That is enough, both of you."
A woman stepped between them.
It was Theodora.
She frowned sharply at the two men.
Her attendants hurried into the chamber behind her.
"What is the meaning of this disgrace?"
"Princess Theodora."
"Princess."
Both Ruaak and Hugh bowed quickly.
"I could hear your quarrel from the corridor. Do you not realize what will happen if word spreads that the commanders are fighting?"
Both men fell silent.
"The soldiers will begin dividing into factions. If they must be punished, I will have no choice but to punish you two first."
She stepped forward to the table.
Her silk garments brushed the wood with a soft sound.
"What has caused such conflict?"
"It concerns the latest report, Princess. Saladin's Egyptian fleet has laid siege to Jaffa."
Ruaak said.
"And Jaffa has sent a request for aid. We should dispatch the fleet at once—"
"To do so would be to fall into their trap, Princess."
Hugh interrupted.
"We must strike Damietta as planned. Then they will have no choice but to lift the siege and return."
He continued.
"If that happens, we can meet them properly in battle. At present, they are waiting at Jaffa for our arrival."
"If they land troops, Jaffa could fall."
"Impossible. With Saladin's main force advancing north, where would he find the troops to besiege a great city like Jaffa?"
"On the contrary, they may have targeted Jaffa from the beginning."
Ruaak said.
"If we half-heartedly besiege Damietta, we may lose Jaffa."
"That is absurd—!"
"Prince Baldwin entrusted command authority to me."
Theodora raised her hand.
"He instructed me to intervene if the two of you began quarreling. At first, I thought it unnecessary concern…."
She looked at them steadily.
"Now I see it was entirely appropriate."
"That is—"
"If you continue in this manner, I will strip you both of command. I will request replacements from Constantinople and Jerusalem."
"…."
"…."
"Your duty is to stand back to back against the enemy, not to stab one another in the back."
At her sharp words, both Hugh and Ruaak nodded.
Theodora let out a quiet sigh.
"For now, double the number of reconnaissance vessels."
She looked at the map.
"We must determine whether they truly intend to seize Jaffa or whether this is bait to draw us in."
She added,
"If it is a trap, we strike Damietta as Sir Hugh suggests. If not, we sail to relieve Jaffa. We must uncover the enemy's intent as quickly as possible."
"Understood."
"We have also received a proposal from Venice. They wish to support this siege of Damietta with ships."
"Venice offering support…."
"Publicly, they claim they wish to share in the spoils of Damietta."
Theodora said.
"But in truth, they are wary of the growing closeness between the Roman Empire and the Kingdom of Jerusalem."
"A Tripoli–Rome–Venice allied fleet."
Hugh gave a hollow laugh.
"I never thought I would see such a sight."
"Venice supports us out of fear that Rome and Jerusalem may grow too close."
Theodora's tone turned cold again.
"And if they see you two quarreling like this, what will they think? They may conclude that the alliance will collapse on its own without their intervention."
"…."
"…."
"That is enough reprimand. Both of you, prepare yourselves."
She clapped her hands once.
"Based on the gathered intelligence, I will make the final decision tomorrow evening."
"Yes, Princess."
Both Hugh and Ruaak left the room.
They walked down the corridor in silence.
"…."
"…."
Hugh spoke first.
"If you are so confident, shall we make another wager?"
"Very well. I will refrain from drinking mead, and you will refrain from drinking elixir. This time, not one month—two."
Ruaak scoffed.
"Agreed. But before I accept, a word of advice."
Hugh replied with a smile.
"Do not make an offer you will later regret."
***
Outskirts of Damascus.
Encampment of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.
"They now openly seek to steal my achievements!"
Guy threw down his sword.
He drank the water handed to him by a servant and shouted,
"They were too slow to follow, and now they would place the blame on me? What do you think, Grand Master Toron?"
He looked at the man opposite him.
A white mantle bearing a red cross.
Grand Master Toron of the Knights Templar.
He spoke calmly.
"Your Excellency made the correct decision. Had you not acted then, there would have been no opportunity to repel them. The others simply lost their nerve and abandoned the charge."
"Exactly! We came to attack Damascus, and this is the spectacle we present. The King seeks by any means to prevent me from earning merit."
He growled.
"He means to pass the throne to young Baldwin, and so he pushes me aside."
"The matter of succession is not yet—"
"Too early to discuss? I wonder."
Guy smiled.
"Your Templars know it well. The Hospitallers and the Order of Lazarus already follow young Baldwin about, do they not?"
He added,
"In return, young Baldwin granted them the right to produce elixir and various other privileges."
"...."
"If he becomes king, he will grant them even more fortresses and benefits. You, having kept close to me, will be treated coldly."
"They should be in eastern Tripoli by now."
"And after consorting with the Romans, he now joins hands with the infidels. A farce beyond compare."
"In effect, he is supporting the Saracens. And the Assassins—"
"They have been paying you annual tribute, have they not? I hear it is a considerable sum."
Guy smiled thinly.
"Baldwin must have tempted the Assassins by promising to abolish that tribute. It costs him nothing, so he would offer it generously."
He asked,
"Do you not think so?"
Silence fell.
The servants had all withdrawn. Only Guy and Grand Master Toron remained in the tent.
Guy spoke again.
"What say you to this? Near the north stand Templar fortresses. At the proper moment, strike the Assassins."
"But that would amount to open opposition to Prince Baldwin."
"There is no need to do it openly. The mountains are vast, and supply caravans must disperse. Your men need only lie in wait and strike."
Guy said.
"If the caravans are repeatedly attacked, the treaty between Baldwin and the Assassins will collapse."
"If support ceases, the northern Levant may fall into Saladin's hands."
"If Aleppo falls, the King who led this campaign will be blamed. He will not be able to present young Baldwin as successor."
Guy continued,
"That would serve our interests. And if Saladin secures the north, will he immediately turn his blade against us?"
"If Saladin remains a threat, that benefits us."
"Indeed. And you will continue receiving your tribute. Would that not serve the Holy City better?"
Guy placed a hand on Toron's shoulder.
"Consider it carefully, Grand Master."