In the open camp, clusters of bonfires were burning.
The Kurdish Cavalry sat relaxed on the ground, replenishing their water and food, with some occasionally boasting about how many enemies they killed during the day.
This time, each of them had gained considerably.
If it were in a feudal country, each of them could have bought an estate in their hometown and become estate owners.
But unfortunately, Kurds are a nomadic tribe.
An individual, even if wealthy, cannot survive. For original chapters go to N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
They must stick together for warmth.
Losa sat on the sandy ground covered with a woolen carpet, holding a clay pot with meat soup, sipping it slowly.
"I wonder if the news of Kokb’s death has spread? And whether we’ll be attacked by Safudin and his Mamluks on our way back?"
Mamluks refer to slave soldiers, similar to the centuries-old "Gulam," but more elite.
The King has the King’s Mamluks, and the Governor has the Governor’s Mamluks.
Saladin’s Kasaji Guard is one of the best Mamluks, also a rare elite force within the Fire Worship power capable of confronting the Crusader Knights.
Crusader Knights, with equivalent numbers, are undoubtedly among the top combat forces of this era.
The princess of the Eastern Empire, Anna Komnenos, once described: the knights of the Crusaders could pierce a hole in the walls of Babylon City.
One can see how formidable Saladin’s Kasaji Guard is.
"The news of Kokb’s death won’t spread so quickly to Ayyub, unless they rely on eagles in the sky to send messages."
Abdullah gripped a scimitar with silver patterns from Damascus, cutting a roasted lamb chop from the grill above the bonfire and chewing it.
Grease dripped on his thick beard, and he said somewhat unclearly:
"But the other lords loyal to the Sassanid King will surely respond immediately, becoming more vigilant and harder to deal with."
Losa took a roasted lamb chop, chewed on it, and nodded slightly: "I know, I don’t plan on targeting any other objectives. Our gains are already quite plentiful."
Kokb, a feudal lord active on the Sassan and Ayyub borders, in terms of status, is no less than Safudin, the Governor of Syria.
If seen on a map, in terms of sheer size, Kokb’s territory is even greater than Safudin’s.
Although the former’s territory is mostly meaningless sand, his subjects are a series of chiefdoms living by migrating with the water and grass.
But this doesn’t lessen the shock Kokb’s death brings to the entire border region.
Especially since the murderer claims to be under Saladin, who occupies the fertile riches once dubbed as the Empire Grain Storehouse, Egypt’s King.
Abdullah glanced sideways: "I was worried you might let this easy victory get to your head."
Losa replied helplessly: "I thought my performance these days would have earned your approval."
"Of course, but precisely because of this, I worry you’re too young and reckless."
Abdullah chuckled softly: "Among the young people I’ve seen, you’re the best, no doubt."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Losa chewed on the roasted lamb chop, his eyes catching a glimpse of Furinjira, who was incessantly chattering beside Prajna’s ear on the nearby rug.
The journey had bored her terribly.
holding an old book with yellowing pages, was silently flipping through it, completely ignoring Furinjira’s chatter.
"By the way, there’s something else..."
Losa reluctantly said: "If you have a question, just ask. Ever since we left Kokb’s Wooden Castle, everyone looks at me like I’m a monster."
"Everyone’s saying you made a pact with the Devil, offering to the demons of Hell the wealth the soldiers couldn’t take away."
Losa asked back: "Do you believe it?"
Abdullah shook his head: "I don’t. The Devil has never lacked wealth. On the contrary, they enjoy using wealth to tempt people into decadence."
"You are a kind person, Losa. You respect our faith, generously granting us the right to choose the spoils of war first. Fighting for you is an honor for us."
"Ha, no need to flatter me like that, Abdullah."
Losa’s lips curled slightly: "But I don’t believe Baron Goffrey hasn’t told you the truth."
Abdullah was slightly stunned and admitted: "That’s right."
"You have the allegiance of two witches who possess mysterious powers. But are their powers derived from your Heavenly Father? If so, why do your clergy not receive such divine power?"
Losa was silent for a moment. He certainly knew the witches’ powers didn’t come from God, but he couldn’t say that out loud.
"The Heavenly Father grants witches extraordinary powers and a sacred mission. Some fulfill this mission, supporting wise kings, while others retreat and indulge in pleasures."
Losa paused for a moment, then continued: "Just like among the clergy, there are those willing to live in poverty and all their wealth to the Knight Order, as well as those greedy ones, with gem rings on every finger, stingy enough to squeeze every drop of blood and sweat from each peasant slave."
Thinking of the clergy in his hometown, Abdullah agreed: "So, with the allegiance of two witches, are you saying you are the favored of your Heavenly Father?"
"Perhaps, I cannot fathom God’s will."
Losa frowned: "But I do feel I should do something different from other Crusader nobles. It’s my mission."
"Do something? Become the lord, baron, count, or even duke or king of Jerusalem?"
Losa shook his lips: "That’s only the process. What I truly hope to achieve is to end the frequent wars here so that people of different languages, faiths, and even skin colors can live equally."
Losa emphasized his tone: "To build a strong empire unifying the Levant, bringing peace to this war-torn land."
Abdullah shook his head sharply: "Absolutely impossible!"
Losa knew it was difficult.
A multi-ethnic community without a dominant ethnicity doesn’t last—either it splits or is in the process of splitting.
Especially with sharp religious conflicts.
This isn’t a game where turning on religion and humanism drops the rebellion score to zero.
But precisely because it’s challenging, it suits such ambition.
With the system he has, he has never doubted that he will step by step gain higher noble ranks, and even become a king with royal power.
Moreover, this era’s sense of nationalism is extremely weak, making ’culture washing’ not impossible.
"Why not? If the Eastern Empire once did it, why can’t I?"
Abdullah was silent for a while.
He instinctively wanted to say, the Eastern Empire had failed, but in the end, he said:
"Losa, perhaps someone favored by God like you should have unimaginable ambitions. May the sacred fire protect you and grant your wishes."
"Once we enter Kaimont, we’ll be in the realm of the Crusaders, and we’ll part ways there."
Losa was a bit surprised: "You won’t serve Baron Goffrey anymore?"
"Not for the time being."
Abdullah hesitated for a moment and said: "King Nuruddin’s son is gathering the old forces, and we plan to assist him in Aleppo to regroup forces against Saladin."
"After we dealt with Kokb, the border will fall into chaos. This is our chance."
Losa remained silent.
"You must know how slim your chances of success are. No matter how benevolent Saladin is, he won’t forgive rebels like you."
Abdullah said solemnly: "Summoned by the old master, I will follow without hesitation."
Losa did not persuade further.
Despite being very envious of this Kurdish Cavalry, the other party’s strong convictions were not something he could sway with a few words.
Losa glanced at Hans.
This "Attendant" of his was setting up the tents, sweating heavily.
This is the only "cavalry" under Losa’s command.
In this era ruled by cavalry, organizing a force as elite as this Kurdish Cavalry is extraordinarily expensive.
"Perhaps, I should also join or establish a Knight Order."
"Anyway, I don’t plan to get married anytime soon. Once I become stronger, I can leave the Knight Order or secularize it."
These days, there are those who feign conversion, only to revert later.
Likewise, there are those who feign lifelong vows, only to marry later.