Al-Adil sat comfortably next to his brother Salah ad-Din on the carpet, leaning his elbow on a pillow and sipping sherbet. Like the Sultan, he was dressed in a loose dressing gown. Salah ad-Din was eating an apricot, breaking it in half—for as long as Al-Adil could remember, Yusuf had always loved fresh fruit. Something elusively boyish shone through the Sultan's features beneath his usual responsibility and seriousness in such calm, relaxed moments. It reminded Al-Adil of those distant evenings, decades ago, when their entire family would gather in their Damascus home after dinner—and their father, uncle Shirkuh, and brothers were still alive, may Allah have mercy on them...

It was pleasant to sit like this, the two of them, while the sun cast its already-blushing rays across the room, and besides, they only came in with reports to Salah ad-Din about five times. But it was time to get back to business.

"So, you're planning to take Jaffa, Yusuf?" Al-Adil put down his cup and looked at his brother.
"Yes," Salah ad-Din answered, pulling out a small parchment map. "My spy, maybe you remember him?—Kamal—he found out where the underground entrance was, both ends." The Sultan pointed at the edge of the drawn city's fortress wall and again beyond it, where a small forest was sketched among the dunes. "True, it wasn't easy for him; the poor guy was captured."
"And how did he get out?" Al-Adil asked curiously.
"That's a wonderful story," the Sultan replied. "A girl helped him..."
"A girl?!"
"Yes. They captured her too," Salah ad-Din shuddered at the mere thought, but he continued, "the scoundrels, may Allah punish them, picked on her for a trifle, and she and Kamal ended up in the same prison. She picked the locks, escaped herself, and helped him."
"Picked the locks?" Al-Adil shook his head, stunned. "Who was she?"
"A healer," Salah ad-Din smiled. "And an absolutely incredible healer at that. They took other innocent victims with them, and Angelica," Al-Adil thought the Sultan pronounced her name a little dreamily, "later healed a couple of men wounded while trying to escape from prison, and how quickly she healed them!"
"Amazing," Al-Adil said.
"Kamal recommended Angelica to me and praised her skills highly, so I hired her as a physician to the army," Salah ad-Din concluded, rubbing his beard with his fingers and saying thoughtfully, "The war is going hard, Ahmad. The Baghdad Caliph has been so insolent that he dared not send reinforcements... but there's no time to bring him to heel. Inshallah, Angelica will limit our losses. However, things aren't going well with Richard's army either."
“By the way, I heard some absolutely incredible gossip,” his brother responded, “as if Philip Augustus cried on that damned day when Richard executed the hostages, may Allah have mercy on their souls.”
"That's true," Salah ad-Din replied. "From then on, as far as I know, things went wrong between them."
"Thank God he left," Ahmad nodded.
"Richard's men also often leave him," the Sultan said thoughtfully, "to make a pilgrimage and return home. Besides, the King of Britain has troubles at home, and he himself is eager to return. However, while he is here, he still remains a serious threat. Although I have heard that he is considering whether to march on Jerusalem."
"Let him go home... or straight to the shaitan," Ahmad muttered, leaning back against the pillows. Salah ad-Din smiled mirthlessly.
"Perhaps Richard will make a sortie in the next few days," the Sultan said. "To scout out our defenses..."
"Maybe I should stay here?" Ahmad perked up.
"No need, Ahmad, I can handle it." Salah ad-Din looked softly into his brother's eyes. "Go to Egypt—your presence is needed there."
Ahmad nodded.


~~~
I made some minor corrections to the chapter 14 about Salah ad-Din's first marriage—I dug through my notes and found some historical information. I have hundreds of notes for this novel, and I don't remember them all :)