The Restoration of Rome: In the Name of Augustus

Chapter 112 Tughtagin

The air inside the cabin seemed to freeze. The flickering shadows of the oil lamp on the walls illuminated Tughtakin's deathly pale face.

He struggled to lift his swollen eyelids, his gaze fixed intently on Leon, as if trying to pierce through the child's skin to see what kind of soul lay hidden behind it: "Who...who are you?"

Zahir was the first to recover from his shock. He grinned, revealing his gleaming white teeth, and shouted with the rough excitement typical of pirates, "The Emir of Yemen?! I never fucking thought I, Zahir, would ever kidnap such a valuable 'big fish' in my lifetime! It's worth it!"

Accord quickly composed himself, leaned close to Lyon's ear, and whispered shrewdly, "Tsk tsk tsk, an emirate, Saladin's brother, no less. You're probably figuring out how to get the biggest ransom right now, aren't you?"

Lyon slowly shook his head, his gaze never leaving Tughtagin: "The ransom is certainly tempting, but a disgruntled emirate might be worth far more than just a dinar."

"You... tell me, who exactly are you?" Seeing that Leon remained silent, Tughtakin continued to ask, unwilling to give up.

"Alas, I'd long heard that Yemen was remote and isolated, but I never imagined its news was so limited." Lyon said with regret and pity. "I just don't understand. The Sultan's territory is so vast; as his fourth brother, shouldn't he have at least given you a wealthy domain?"

"What are you talking about? Trying to sow discord?" Tughtakin sneered. "Hmph, my bond with my brother is unbreakable; there's no need to waste your breath!"

Seeing Leon's amused smile, Tughtakin paused, then snapped, "Don't try to beat around the bush! Are you afraid to reveal your identity? Then you have no right to speak to me!"

"Lyon de Anjou, the half-brother of the King of Jerusalem." Lyon bowed respectfully, a wicked smile on his face. "Although we are both brothers of kings or sultans, in terms of status, you are not worthy to speak to me as an equal."

"Hmm?" Tughtajin subconsciously revealed a hint of doubt.

"Because I am the crown prince, and you are not!" Lyon blinked.

"Ha, child's play," Tughtakin scoffed. "Stop spouting your childish nonsense and go back to your brother's court. Let that scarred-face guy behind him talk to me!"

"I'm afraid not, you know perfectly well in your heart." Lyon said dismissively, "Saladin has three younger brothers, the second is Adil, the third is Shemsdin Turanshah, and you are the youngest."

"The Sultan's sons are still young, and the only ones who have a chance of inheriting the Sultan's mantle are you brothers. Adil governs the wealthiest region of Egypt, and Turanshah governs the important Syrian city of Damascus, but he died mysteriously three years ago, and the Sultan's nephew Farouk took over Damascus," Lyon remarked. "And you, nine years ago, were sent by the Sultan to suppress the heretical uprising in Yemen, and have been serving as the Emir of Yemen ever since, seemingly... without any further transfers?"

"Yemen is located in a remote area, with sandstorms everywhere, scarce water, and its people aren't exactly obedient. The only advantage is trade on the Red Sea, but merchant ships are all destined for Cairo or Alexandria, and Yemen is just there to collect customs duties..." Lyon said quietly. "Even in this great war, you could only watch helplessly from a logistics ship as others reaped the glory of conquering cities and seizing territories..."

"What do you know! Yemen is strategically located, guarding the Red Sea..." Tughtakin tried to argue, but his voice had lost its initial confidence.

"I don't understand," Lyon interrupted softly, his gaze sharp as he stared intently into Tughtakin's flickering eyes. "I don't understand why people of the same blood have such different fates. I understand even less why an ambitious emirate would willingly remain forever in a subordinate position, never even getting a chance to fight head-on?"

Lyon looked directly into Tughtakin's eyes and pressed, "Are you truly completely unmoved?"

Tughtakin was shocked.

What the child said was exactly what he had been thinking. But even if he had grievances, he would never betray the Sultan!

"Your Excellency, please think this through carefully. Your prestige is already far inferior to Prince Adil's, and now you've suffered a defeat at our hands and been captured. If word gets out, even if the Sultan is still willing to pay the ransom for you, how will you face the world afterward?" Lyon observed his expression and decisively added, "I imagine you don't want to return home as a defeated general, do you?"

Tughtajin's breath hitched, he closed his eyes, and his chest heaved violently, as if he was trying his best to suppress his surging emotions.

For a moment, only his heavy breathing and the crackling of the oil lamp wick remained in the cabin.

After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes. The anger and wariness that had been in his eyes had been replaced by a complex, sharp, and struggling emotion. His tone softened slightly: "What... exactly do you want to say?"

Hehe, the time has finally come.

Lyon suppressed a smile, took another step closer, and lowered his voice even further: "I want to make a deal with you. A deal that will give you... a chance to change your current situation."

"A deal?" Tugta's pupils contracted slightly.

"Yes. I can release you and your men directly." Lyon's words were astonishing, even surprising Zahir and Jacob who were standing nearby.

"Not only that, I will also give you a fast ship—the nimble Sarandi light warship under my scarred man's command. You can ride in it, along with the prisoners and ships we have captured... north to meet Prince Adil."

Tughtakin's eyes flashed with extreme confusion and wariness: "What trick are you playing? Sending me a ship? And sending back my prisoners of war along with it?"

A deep smile played on Lyon's lips: "You only need to announce that you encountered our fleet off the coast of Jaffa, fought a bloody battle, defeated the enemy, and captured this ship. This ship and its prisoners will be proof of your military achievements. As for why I'm doing this..."

Lyon deliberately kept everyone in suspense, his tone becoming enigmatic; "You don't need to know everything. You only need to understand that if this succeeds, Prince Adil's attack on Beirut will suffer a crushing defeat. This will be entirely beneficial to you. What will be the weight of a defeated Adil versus a victorious Tughtagin, who returns with captured enemy ships, before Sultan Saladin?"

Tughtagin stared intently at Lyon, trying to find even the slightest trace of deception on the boy's face, but he only saw a calm and confidence that deeply frightened him.

A tremendous temptation, like the song of a siren, echoed in his ears. Power, status, recognition… these things he had longed for deep within his heart suddenly seemed to have a hidden path leading to them. And the risk… seemed to lie solely with his rival, Adil.

After a long silence, Tugtajin's Adam's apple bobbed, and he asked in a hissing voice, "How can I trust you?"

"You have no choice." Leon's calm voice was incredibly seductive. "Going back as a prisoner, you will lose everything completely. But by accepting my offer, you at least have a chance to take back what is rightfully yours, and perhaps... more. How about taking the gamble?"

Tughtagin's gaze swept over Zahir and Jacob again, finally settling on Lyon's eyes, which seemed to see through everything.

He took a deep breath, as if using all his strength, and finally squeezed out a single word through clenched teeth:

"……good."