Saladin was stationed in front of the throne. The white horse under his crotch had already been soaked in red with blood. The blood dripped down the horse's legs and fell to the ground. After a while, it formed a pool of blood.
Turning over and dismounting, Saladin looked at the throne close at hand, walked forward step by step, and sat down.
Looking up to the outside of the hall, the bright red that filled the field of vision made Saladin close his eyes in pain.
He waved to the attendant beside him.
Soon, the emperor's guards unfurled a damaged flag in the palace square, pointed to the Holy Cross emblem on it and shouted to the people: "The great Caliph, the invincible Saladin the Great captured
Holy City!”
At first there were just murmurs of doubt, then loud shouts, and finally a chorus of cheers.
As King Pajezi's crown, the holy cross of the Holy Crusaders and other trophies were displayed one by one, the people's cheers became louder and louder, with words like "Allahu Akbar" and "Long Live the Caliph" resounding.
In the sky above the palace.
The herald in the Guards waited for the people to gradually calm down, pointed to the corpses on the ground and said: "The great Emperor Saladin is an agent sent by God and the true king of salvation! The Holy Spirit fell into the hands of the infidels.
The city's return to the embrace of God is the best evidence! And these evil people who took advantage of the caliphate to go out for jihad and started a rebellion have lost the blessing of God, and what awaits them will be the cruelest punishment!"
Listening to the roar of people outside the palace, Saladin, who was sitting on the throne, looked motionless at the thin body on the steps, as if he was in two different worlds from outside the door.
After an unknown amount of time, someone came to Saladin's side and whispered: "Caliph, you should rest."
Saladin turned his head and saw an old mullah wearing a white turban looking at him with concern.
"Zalatahan, my military advisor, how is the situation in the city?"
The old man nodded and said: "Elem has taken control of all the city walls with the Guards. The people who participated in the rally just now must have brought the news of your recapture of the Holy City to the city. I believe it won't take long.
, the hearts and minds of the entire Baghdad will return to your control."
Saladin shook his head: "No, even if I recapture the Holy City, the followers of the Abbasid Empire will not disappear. Right now, what worries me most is not the people of Baghdad, but..."
"But the old Abbasid troops in your army?"
Zaratahan's answer made Saladin nodded slightly.
"After the capture of Baghdad, almost 50,000 Abbasid troops submitted a letter of surrender to me. These 50,000 people have now become a dull, painful ringworm. You can't move it, and you can't do anything about it.
Ignore it."
Zalata Khan stroked his gray beard and said: "Behind this rebellion in Baghdad, there must be traces of these old troops. I am sure that if the rebels reoccupy Baghdad, these troops who surrendered on the battlefield will definitely choose to immediately
Betray you."
Saladin pondered for a moment and then said: "The key is, how to deal with these armies of the old empire? It is not realistic to demobilize them all, and it is impossible to disrupt the organization..."
Zaratahan said helplessly: "Caliph, this problem may not be solved for the time being. Maybe we can put it aside for now. There are several things that urgently need your decision."
"What's up?"
"You led the army to capture the Holy City. A large amount of wealth in the city is being transported back to the south. You need to come up with a plan on how to reward the soldiers based on their merits."
"Follow the past practice, those who have meritorious service will be rewarded, and those who make mistakes will be punished." Saladin looked at Zaratahan: "As for my own share, you know what to do."
The latter nodded: "I understand that all the rewards attributed to you will be equally divided among all the soldiers participating in this battle... except for one thing - all the books and classics in the Holy City, which will be transported intact.
In your palace."
Saladin said approvingly: "Yes, that's it."
"When it comes to rewards for those who have meritorious service, it involves the second thing." At this point, Zaratahan hesitated: "The rewards for all the participants have been confirmed and are ready to be distributed. Only one person needs the caliphate."
You decide for yourself.”
"who?"
"Throatbone, that suspicious northerner."
Saladin was stunned, and the pale face and the invincible legion suddenly appeared in his mind.
"The troops under Throat Bone are acting a little weird..." Zalatahan carefully chose his words: "They never step out of the military camp, and you can't hear their noises and training, and the supply of military rations is...
The losses are almost negligible.”
Saladin listened and frowned in silence.
"In this battle to attack the Holy City, Yan Gu and his troops should be at the forefront according to their contribution. However, if he is really rewarded so lavishly, it will definitely arouse the dissatisfaction of other generals..."
Saladin looked at Zalatahan: "Have you found out about his origin?"
The latter shook his head helplessly.
Saladin thought for a while and then said: "Regarding the reward for the throat bone, distinguish it from other generals. In addition to some appropriate property, give him two more rewards."
"First, I allow Throat Bone to build his own army. The necessary weapons and supplies will be allocated to him by the empire. As for the name of this army, I will give it the word 'Immortal'."
"As for the second item..." Saladin looked at Zara Tahan and whispered: "Give me a word to the throat bone, tell him what you promised him at the beginning, and I will fulfill my promise soon."
Zalatahan nodded with confusion, paused for a moment, and then continued: "The last thing, about those Mother Goddess believers..."
Upon hearing the name "Mother Goddess Cultists", Saladin rubbed his eyebrows vigorously: "What do they want to do?"
"Their messenger, let me tell you. Whether it is the war against the Abbasid Empire or the war to retake the Holy City, the Mother Goddess Cult has shown enough sincerity to the empire. Now, they are asking for feedback from the empire."
Saladin sneered: "Feedback? They just want to get a share of the pie, right?!"
"Many of the Mother Goddess believers possess the power of demons. If these people are wreaking havoc within the empire, it may be detrimental to us."
Saladin waved his hand carelessly: "Tell those shady cultists that I can give them a fiefdom and give them some pleasant noble titles. I won't care what they do in the fiefdom; but outside
The fiefdom is the territory of God, and any missionary behavior will be regarded as blasphemy against God!”
Zalatahan bowed his head and said yes.
Saladin stood up from the throne and looked forward.
Outside the main entrance of the palace, attendants and servants were cleaning up the place after the execution.
The body was carried onto a cart and the blood was washed away with clean water.
Saladin accidentally caught a glimpse of the thin body again, being thrown onto the cart like garbage. Looking at this scene, a pain silently hit his chest.
He bent down, stretched out his palm to rub his heart, and left the throne with a sigh.