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Chapter 63: Winds of the Crusade
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The wind over Damascus carried a chill that had little to do with the season. Within the walls of the Citadel, Saladin sat in silence, staring at the maps unfurled before him—maps that told of the Kingdom of Jerusalem's sudden boldness.
Reports from the coast piled on his desk like creeping rot. Acre. Tyre. Jaffa. Sidon. Ships with foreign coats of arms arrived weekly. Soldiers of many tongues, but a shared cause, stepped onto the soil of the Levant in growing numbers.
Salad ...
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