[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations":3,"chapter-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-150":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Nation of Ten Thousand Nations",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2333118,4562,"Chapter 150: Kamal","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-150",150,"\u003Cp>The funeral the next day was hasty and bloody; even as Venus still glimmered in the sky, Sultan Nur al-Din’s coffin had already left the southern gate of Aleppo Castle. His former followers, Fatih and Emirs, each dispatched their soldiers, who rode swift horses through every alley of Aleppo, their hawk-like eyes scanning every door and window, ensuring all were tightly shut.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The night before, the Grand Vizier and the Grand Scholar had both issued decrees—today, all citizens of Aleppo must remain indoors; whether for work, food, or study, anyone who dared step beyond their threshold would have their head cut off by the Sultan’s soldiers—and indeed, some had already been killed. The previous lucky ones had turned their eyes red with envy; whether for faith or some other reason, someone always took the risk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They should not have forgotten the great men they once feared; those men might overlook, but would never repeat their mistakes. Rolling heads and splattered blood became the best warning; whether man or woman, old or young, all now dared only crouch within their rooms, and even the boldest dared only press tightly against doors and windows, peering through cracks as the solemn, endless procession slowly vanished from sight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some saw it—the sixteen bearers now carried not the original plain wooden coffin, but a pure white stone coffin inlaid with gold, silver, gems, and pearls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was startled, for this was not what Nur al-Din had favored. Indeed, the stone coffin had been presented to the Sultan by a Frankish noble, in gratitude for releasing a relative; at the time, all had marveled, but Nur al-Din had merely touched it and said, “This is not what the children of Allah should possess.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When our bodies rot in earth and wood, returning to the ground, our souls ascend to paradise; but if we sink into this splendid stone coffin, our souls will be imprisoned within it, turning together with its contents into fuel for the fires of hell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So at first, no one had thought of the stone coffin. Only because the previous day’s riot had so badly damaged Nur al-Din’s coffin that it could no longer be used. They could only find a simpler wooden coffin and re-encase his holy body. But to be safe, they placed the wooden coffin inside the stone one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The stone coffin weighed nearly as much as ten camels—not something the original bearers could lift. The eldest and second princes did not even try, declaring their refusal; moreover, several of the original bearers had been injured or killed in the earlier clash. Thus, the new bearers were almost entirely drawn from soldiers who had received divine revelation. Even so, the terrifying weight crushed them, making it hard to breathe; each step felt as if it would leave a deep imprint on Aleppo’s stone paving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, they reached the Umayyad Mosque without incident. In the mosque’s courtyard, the stone coffin was set down, the wooden coffin removed, and lowered into the already-dug grave. Then earth was piled over it, smoothed, and the stone coffin placed atop the grave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Nur al-Din probably wouldn’t like this,” muttered a Fatih.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Grand Scholar replied sharply, “Nor would he be pleased to see his body stolen, bought, and displayed on altars by ignorant fools, just as those foolish Christians do.” Their doctrine forbade worship of anything but Allah, yet even the people of Aleppo remained influenced by past sects; these errors would take more time to correct, and now was not the time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Grand Scholar drew a deep breath; his heart finally eased. But then it rose again. The Sultan was buried; the two princes’ masks could now be torn off. Those who came to mourn split clearly into two groups.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, as a revered Grand Scholar, he could still firmly refuse both princes’ overtures: “I will pray for the Sultan.” He would remain in the Umayyad Mosque until outside, the clash of swords, the cries and wails of people, erupted. Only when the flames died and smoke cleared would he emerge again to bless the final victor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What the Grand Scholar did not know was that before Nur al-Din’s holy body had even touched the earth, Christians within the second gate of Aleppo Castle were about to receive a gift no one could have anticipated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar did not know if the Saracens had traditions of mourning kin, but strangely, they too observed prayers on the seventh and twenty-first days after death—because Sultan Nur al-Din died on Alasal Road, and on the seventh day they were still negotiating, even as scholars from Alasal rushed to pray for him. Today was the twentieth day, meaning the mourning period had not yet fully passed. What had the bearded second prince sent?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slave girls—young, beautiful, each uniquely distinctive—white, brown, and black—numbering an astonishing hundred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A group of eunuchs herded them like dogs driving sheep into the courtyard, then begged Cesar and the other Christian knights to freely choose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is indeed a magnificent gift,” Cesar said, his smile bitter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not just magnificent, but exceedingly valuable,” Geoffroy said with a mocking grin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed. Here were a hundred maidens, each wrapped in silk robes, but more dazzling than their faces were the glimmers of gold and gems. Each wore necklaces, breast chains, bracelets, anklets, and heavy belts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was a staggering display. The jewels on these slaves alone were worth no less than a thousand gold coins each; their own value equaled half or a third of that sum. A few, especially beautiful or alluring, were clearly meant for veteran knights like Cesar and Geoffroy. As soon as Cesar appeared, they rushed forward, knelt before him, lifted their veils, raised their faces, opened their arms, assuming the posture of surrender. Geoffroy, beside him, lowered his head and pinched his nose. Other knights showed no delight, only discomfort.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The knights transferred from elsewhere could be excused, but the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre who had served the King had seen Cesar’s sister Nattia—her posture then had been identical. Of course, this was mandatory training for every concubine in the Sultan’s harem, but now that they knew Cesar’s sister had once been sold here, nearly becoming a Sultan’s consort, no one could feel desire at this scene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who knew Nattia had once been a harem slave could not tell whether they were threatening, warning, or mocking—perhaps all three.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Saracen court of this time could not compare to the later Ottoman Empire; princes might kill each other, or coexist peacefully—though this peace was debatable—leading to the possibility that a wise ruler’s descendants were all fools. At least the owner of these slaves, the second prince, was certainly no clever man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet he still lived. That proved the eldest prince was likely equally mediocre; otherwise, the second prince would not exist. They knew the Sultan had a younger son, but unless he were Baldwin IV or someone like Cesar, favored by divine grace, what could a child do?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar turned to look at the young knights behind him. “We must deliberate,” he told the eunuch who brought the girls. “Take them elsewhere to rest. Return tomorrow for further orders.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Geoffroy stepped forward and slipped a gold ring set with a sapphire into the eunuch’s hand. “Tell your master: this gift has overwhelmed us so greatly that we cannot decide quickly—or,” he leaned close, lowering his voice, “if he has any request, he should tell us. If the master is generous, the guest will not be stingy. Frankly, only with clear words can we know our next step.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The eunuch took the ring, his expression softening. “I will faithfully report to my master.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he returned and repeated every word to the second prince, the prince let out a scornful laugh. “They’re trying to drive up the price,” he growled. “But they’ll soon learn that in Aleppo Castle, I am the only one so generous.” He gnawed his fingernail, his face darkening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He did still have a considerable sum. But it was meant to buy off the Emirs, Fatih, and his father’s bodyguard. These slave girls were taken from his father’s harem—his mother’s treasury had funded all their jewels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now the Christians’ stance was clear: they were either waiting for a higher bid, or forcing him to raise his price. He coveted these Christian knights, yet he refused to cripple himself for infidels. “I heard there was collusion between the Isma’ilis and bandits in Damascus.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The remark came out of nowhere, but the eunuch understood instantly. Yes, Aleppo had many Isma’ilis—fat cattle, ready for slaughter. Nur al-Din had never had time to use them before meeting Allah; he left them to his wife and sons. Now was the time. “Take my men and warn them,” the second prince said, leaning back lazily. The eunuch bowed and left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The second prince closed his eyes and tapped the armrest of his chair. He had never felt this favorite chair so narrow, so cold and hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wanted a new chair. The Sultan’s throne would do nicely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>————————\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar and Geoffroy dismissed the eunuch and returned to their temporary palace. They exchanged glances and saw each other’s pale faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had been in Aleppo Castle for nearly a week. Throughout this long time, even as court and harem were consumed with Nur al-Din’s funeral, one of the most critical terms of their verbal agreement—the release of Count Joscelin III of Edessa—should have been addressed. Yet no one had ever spoken to Cesar about it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In fact, on the fourth day, Cesar had sensed something wrong. Geoffroy grew anxious by the fifth. Even if Joscelin III was imprisoned in a remote fortress far from Aleppo, he should have arrived by now. Even if formal handover had not yet come, they should have allowed father and son to meet, to speak of their separation. Indeed, even if Christians were forbidden to leave Aleppo before Nur al-Din’s burial, Joscelin III, his wife, and Cesar should have been housed together—that was the proper treatment for a prisoner about to be freed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet even the First Lady, Second Lady, and Third Lady, along with the three princes they raised, had sent lavish gifts. The First Lady even wrote a heartfelt letter on behalf of the Third Prince, thanking Cesar for all he had done for Sultan Nur al-Din. Yet not one word mentioned Joscelin III. They had all silently consigned his fate to a place Christians could not reach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar had repeatedly requested audiences with the Grand Vizier or the Grand Scholar—all politely refused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar had sworn to protect Joscelin III and his wife as the original owner’s body. But the Saracens’ attitude filled him with dread. He suspected the couple was already dead. What puzzled him was the calm, indifferent way Aleppo’s people handled it—did they believe Cesar felt no true affection for Joscelin III and his wife?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>True, they had been separated for over a decade. But as long as Cesar bore Joscelin III’s life, name, and title, he had the right and duty to avenge him. This was an iron law, unchallengeable by anyone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he failed to act, suspicion would arise. They would despise him, loathe him, expel him. He might never again stay in Alasal or any Christian land. Nothing could be more shameful: a son unwilling to avenge his father, murdered by infidel treachery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The second prince’s actions today confirmed Cesar’s suspicion. If he intended to hire or use these Christian knights, wouldn’t the best way to win Cesar’s favor be to bring Joscelin III and his wife before him? But he did not. He preferred to please the Christians with a hundred slave girls adorned in precious jewels—clearly, he no longer held the most vital card.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The knights had not yet dispersed. One young Knight of the Holy Sepulchre stepped forward, gripping Cesar’s arm, fearing he would collapse under the sudden confirmation of the horror. Some knights had not yet grasped the truth, but after their companions’ analysis, they understood the terrible reality. First shock, then fury—they whispered oaths to cleanse Cesar’s shame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar did feel an overwhelming grief rising from his chest, but he could still think. More urgent than avenging Joscelin III and his wife was escaping Aleppo safely. They remained unharmed now only because the ladies and princes had not yet dared to openly betray them—and because, in the coming civil war, they still planned to use the Christians as soldiers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as the moment of revelation drew nearer, their time grew shorter—perhaps only a breath away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar made his decision at once: “From today,” he said, voice hoarse but firm, “everyone must remain armored, weapons within reach, and our horses—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Geoffroy nodded instantly. As a seasoned knight, he would never leave the horses out of sight. They were kept in one corner of the courtyard; their manure and noise had drawn complaints from eunuchs and slave girls, but Geoffroy cared nothing for such low servants.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet even Cesar had not expected how timely his order was. That very night, someone urgently knocked on their door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When two knights brought the man before Cesar, he could not help but stare in disbelief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lord Kamal, how did you come here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2214,"2026-06-20T20:58:34.857Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","9f220c92a3ed8daebd2847743b13553aa2acb1bacfff5ec7230a52e27509b0da","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-151","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-149",168,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-cover.jpg"]