late at night.
In Damascus, all was silent.
Most of the residents have fallen asleep, only the patrolling guards are still faithfully performing their duties.
Fadhil had just laid down, exhausted from several days of intense work.
He didn't even have much time to grieve for his brother Saladin.
He didn't take off his clothes, he just lay down.
However, just as he was about to fall asleep, a burst of hurried and heavy footsteps came from the end of the corridor.
This sound woke Fadhil up instantly.
He knew what that meant.
The door was suddenly pushed open, and the figure of the defending general appeared at the door. He was wearing armor and his face was full of anxiety.
"Your Majesty! Please follow me to the city gate immediately!"
"Please let me explain it to you later!"
His tone was urgent, but he kept his voice deliberately low.
Fadhil did not ask any more questions, but quickly stood up, put on his coat, and followed the general of the defending army through the corridor towards the city gate.
The guards along the way saluted respectfully when they saw the two men, but no one was puzzled by this.
After all, it was very common for Fadhil to go out late at night.
When he arrived near the city gate, Fadhil found that there was no one there except for a dozen nervous guards.
The city gates were closed, the drawbridge was hanging high, everything was normal, and there was no sign of anything unusual.
"What happened?"
"Why did you bring me here so late at night?"
The defending general first looked around to make sure there were no outsiders, then asked the soldier next to him to take out a square box wrapped in black cloth.
His hands trembled slightly and the muscles on his face were tense, as if he was suppressing some strong emotion.
"Your Majesty, please take a look at this."
Fadhil took the box and was about to open it when he felt a sense of foreboding.
He took a deep breath and slowly opened the lid.
really.
The smell of blood hits me in the face.
Inside, there were two human heads.
Fadhil recognized at a glance that the two heads were the two ministers who had set out to negotiate with the rebel camp this morning.
"What?!"
He screamed in surprise, then covered his mouth and tried hard to suppress the churning in his stomach.
Although he had fought on the battlefields of Arabia for many years and witnessed countless grand scenes, it was still a great shock for him to see the heads of his former colleagues with his own eyes.
"what is going on?!"
The defending general took the box and carefully replaced the lid.
"Your Majesty, about an hour ago, these two heads were thrown into the city and landed near the city gate."
"The sentry on duty discovered it and immediately informed me of the news."
"In order to avoid causing panic, I can only order the head to be hidden for the time being. Now, only a few soldiers know about it."
He pointed at the soldiers around him and said, "Only these dozen or so people know about this right now. Whether or not to keep the news secret is up to you."
Fadhil stood there, his mind racing.
This is a naked provocation and an insult to Damascus!
It is also a contempt for him as the acting ruler!
However, if the news spreads, it will inevitably cause panic and chaos, and Damascus, which has just recovered some morale, will probably be hit hard.
Just as he fell silent, thinking about how to respond, the defending general took out two letters from his arms.
"Your Majesty, please look at this."
Fadhil took it and asked in confusion, "What is this?"
The tone of the defending general became more serious:
"We found these two letters next to the skull. Based on my judgment, the rebels are very likely to have reached some kind of collaboration. Your negotiation strategy has failed."
Fadhil took the envelope carefully.
There was nothing on the cover of either letter, not even a signature.
He tore open the first letter and read it by the light of the torch.
"Fadhil."
"When you saw this letter, you should have recognized their identities."
"I'm sorry, they can't bring you good news."
"Because they will never have the chance to speak, just like your poor master Saladin!"
When Fadil saw this, his hands began to tremble.
"We know what you want to do."
"Delaying time and waiting for reinforcements? That tactic won't work on us."
"Your trick is so crude, it's as ridiculous as a child trying to deceive an adult!"
"Now, everything is over."
"Our two armies have formed an alliance, with a total of over 8,000 elite warriors marching towards Damascus."
"If you don't want to end up like Saladin, you should open the gates and surrender to us immediately."
"Otherwise, when our army enters the city, I will make you die a more miserable death than your master, and all the pagans in Damascus will pay the price!"
"If you refuse to surrender, imagine Saladin's head hanging on the city gate."
"A once great leader, ultimately, ended up with such a miserable end because of your choices."
"But it's entirely up to you, Fadhil."
"Oh, I suppose I should address you now as, Your Majesty Fadhil?"
"But will you choose to save the lives of everyone in the city, or will you stubbornly choose to let more innocent people die with you?"
There is no information at the end of the letter.
Fadhil could only feel his temples throbbing.
Then he put down the first letter and turned to the second.
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