October 15th, 1181 — Cairo
The city of Cairo stirred with life beneath the October sun, its sprawling markets ringing with the voices of merchants and beggars, camels braying, the clang of smiths hammering iron, and the muezzins calling the faithful to prayer. At the heart of the city, within the great citadel, Sultan Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb sat upon a low dais in the audience chamber, his face lined with both care and resolve.
The whispers had reached him weeks ago, drifting first as rumor from the north, then repeated in letters from merchants and caravan masters. But now they had become louder, more persistent, more venomous to the ears of a man who had devoted his entire life to the cause of Allah and the defense of Islam.
King Baldwin of Jerusalem — once the "Leper King" mocked by both his own and his enemies — was said to have been cured.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn's jaw tightened. It was not the tale itself that angered him — men invented miracles to justify their cause — but the insidious way the story had been spreading through every caravanserai, every port, every souq. Worse still, the tale was wrapped in a sheen of sanctity: the Franks claimed it had been the direct work of their false God, a divine blessing upon Baldwin and his new bride, the Norman princess Constance.
The Sultan's counselors assembled in a semicircle before him, turbans and cloaks bright against the cool stone chamber. Viziers, imams, generals, and emirs waited in silence as he spoke.
"These rumors of the Franks," Saladin said, his voice low, deliberate, "they have reached even the ears of our people in Cairo. In the streets, I hear them whispered: that their crucified god has reached down from the heavens to heal their king. That he is now not only whole, but chosen."
A murmur of disdain rippled through the chamber.
"Shirk," spat Qadi al-Fadil, his chief jurist and counselor. "Pure blasphemy! To claim that their dead Nazarene — who could not even save himself from crucifixion — now grants miracles to his followers? Lies and delusions to deceive the ignorant. Allah alone is the One who heals. Allah alone is the giver of strength. These Franks are weaving sorcery and deceit to ensnare the minds of the weak."
Imam al-Khatib, white-bearded and stern-eyed, raised his hand. "Our Sultan speaks truth: rumors are dangerous. They take root in hearts faster than armies can march. We must denounce this heresy in every mosque and minbar. The people must hear the truth proclaimed — that these so-called miracles are the tricks of shayṭān. Allah is al-Shāfī, the Healer. If the Frankish king truly lived with a disease, and now rises whole, it is only because Allah in His wisdom allowed him to continue — not because of the false intercessions of their crucified prophet."
Saladin leaned forward, his fingers pressed tightly on the armrest of his chair. "Words we shall use, yes. But words alone will not be enough. The Franks mean to inspire courage among their followers, and fear among ours. They have already taken Syria from us — Aleppo, Damascus, Baalbek — and now they cloak themselves in claims of divine favor. If this story is allowed to spread unchecked, it will be harder to rally our soldiers, harder to call them to jihad. They must know that Baldwin is no prophet, no saint, but only a king of flesh who shall one day bleed and die like any man."
The guards opened the chamber doors, admitting a cloaked figure escorted by two mamluks. His head was lowered, his face hidden, but when he came before the dais he bowed deeply.
"My Sultan," said Emir Taqi al-Din, Saladin's nephew and commander, "this is the man who has returned from al-Quds. He was in the city at the time of these so-called miracles."
The spy was stripped of his cloak, revealing a travel-stained tunic, his eyes sharp and calculating.
Saladin gestured. "Speak, and speak fully. What did you see?"
The man bowed. "Sultan, I swear by Allah, I tell no lie. I was in Jerusalem when the king took his new bride to wife. The next morning, the entire city was ablaze with word that he had been healed. The king himself walked through the halls of his palace — no cane, no faltering step, no sores upon his hands or face. His skin, once eaten by disease, shone like any man's. His courtiers wept and called it a miracle. The patriarch of Jerusalem declared before the gathered bishops that this was the work of their god. And letters, my lord — letters have already been sent to Rome, to Constantinople, to every Christian court proclaiming this sign."
Murmurs broke into outrage.
"Lies!" one emir cried. "Trickery!"
"A deception, a false witness!" another shouted.
But the spy's voice did not waver. "I swear, Sultan, I saw him with my own eyes. He is whole. The city believes it. Even his enemies among the lords bow now as though he were favored by heaven."
A heavy silence filled the chamber.
At last, Saladin's imam struck his staff against the floor. "This is blasphemy! Allahu Akbar! There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is His Prophet. The Franks weave illusions, but we shall not falter. They believe their cross healed this man? Then Allah has left him to be preserved only for judgment, so that he may be cast down in the fullness of time. This is not a gift — it is a rope by which Allah shall hang him!"
The other imams cried out their assent, "Allahu Akbar!" echoing through the chamber.
Saladin raised his hand for silence. His voice was calm, but cold with iron. "Let them have their miracle. I tell you — the sword of Islam shall test it. If Baldwin is whole, then he may fight, and we shall see if his false god preserves him on the battlefield. But Allah is al-'Azīz, the Almighty, and it is Allah who grants victory. Not their Nazarene."
He turned to his viziers. "Now — give me the reports from Egypt. Tell me what strength we have to answer this challenge."
The court shifted, and the scribes unrolled their parchments. Vizier Ibn Shukr spoke: "My lord, since the loss of Syria, our coffers are lighter. Damascus and Aleppo once yielded much — taxes, caravans, fertile lands. Now their revenues fill the treasury of your enemy. Yet Egypt remains strong. We have increased our levy upon the Delta lands and the Nile trade. The merchants of Alexandria prosper still, and their dues swell our accounts. The shipyards are busy with galleys, for the Venetians and Pisans grow bolder. In men, we can call perhaps twenty-five thousand if all are mustered. The mamluks stand ready, and new recruits arrive daily."
Another emir added: "Our forges hammer armor day and night. Our granaries are full, praise be to Allah. But still, without Syria, the northern frontier lies open. We must strike wisely, or we shall bleed gold while the Franks grow fat upon our lands."
Saladin listened, then spoke with deliberate force. "Then it is decided. Egypt shall be the heart of our strength. From here, we shall gather men, forge arms, and prepare. We will answer this blasphemy not with whispers, but with swords. Let the imams proclaim in every mosque that Allah is One, and Muhammad His Messenger. Let the people hear the truth, and let their hearts burn with zeal. Baldwin may be healed of his disease — but he is still mortal, still kafir, still an enemy of Allah. And we shall prove it."
The chamber echoed with cries: "Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!"
Saladin closed his eyes for a moment, the sound ringing in his ears like the clash of steel. Then he opened them again, cold and resolute.
"If Baldwin claims God's favor," he said softly, "then we shall test his faith with fire and war. Let him come. We will see whose God prevails."