Scene 1: A Father's Mission
Location: Fortress Courtyard, Mosul – Early Morning
The sun had just begun to paint the eastern sky with golden hues when Salahuddin stood in the fortress courtyard of Mosul, dressed in simple armor fitted for his size. He was only seventeen but carried the silent gaze of a seasoned observer. His father, Najm ad-Din Ayyub, stood beside him, tall and commanding, his grey beard catching the breeze.
"Are you ready, my son?" Najm ad-Din asked, his voice calm yet firm.
Salahuddin nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Yes, father. I have waited for this day."
Najm placed a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. "Then remember what I have taught you. War is not just fought with swords—it is fought with wisdom."
A column of riders assembled near the gate. These were soldiers of Zengid commander Imad ad-Din Zengi, tasked with patrolling the borderlands. Today, Salahuddin would join them for the first time.
Scene 2: Riding into Reality
Location: Rolling hills outside Mosul – Afternoon
The patrol moved under the open sky. Horses clopped steadily over uneven terrain. Salahuddin rode between two seasoned warriors, his eyes scanning the horizon.
One of the soldiers, Harith, an archer with a scar across his face, leaned toward him. "You look calm for your first ride."
"My father taught me to observe before I speak," Salahuddin replied.
Harith chuckled. "Then you'll do well. Watch, listen, and when the time comes—act."
As the group reached a rocky outcrop, the lead rider raised his fist. Everyone halted.
"Tracks," he murmured. "Recent. Could be bandits or Franks' spies."
Salahuddin dismounted, crouching to observe the ground. He studied the prints carefully, recalling the training with his uncle Shirkuh.
"Four men. Light horses. Moving east. Not Zengid troops," he said.
Harith raised an eyebrow. "Good eyes. Let's follow."
Scene 3: The First Encounter
Location: Border Village, Near Mosul – Dusk
The patrol approached a small village nestled between hills. Smoke curled from a burnt cottage. A child ran out screaming, "They came at noon! Took the goats, beat my father!"
The soldiers dismounted. Salahuddin's chest tightened. The scent of smoke, the sound of distant weeping—it was his first brush with the consequences of conflict.
Najm ad-Din, who had joined the group later, gave the order. "Search the village. Stay alert."
Inside a shattered hut, Salahuddin helped a wounded old man sit up. "Who did this?"
"Men with foreign tongues. They wore red crosses," he wheezed. "One had a chain with a cross on his neck."
"Franks," whispered Salahuddin, fury kindling in his chest.
Scene 4: The Chase
Location: Outskirts of the village – Night
The unit rode out again, torches lighting their path. The attackers had a head start, but the warriors pressed on. Salahuddin's heart pounded with purpose.
They spotted movement near a grove. Harith notched an arrow. "There!"
The ambush was swift. Salahuddin charged alongside Harith, swinging his sword for the first time in real battle. He blocked a strike from one of the bandits and returned with a swift thrust. His opponent fell.
The fight ended quickly. Two captives were taken. One wore the cross.
Najm ad-Din dismounted, staring at the prisoners. "You have now seen the face of war, my son."
Salahuddin, blood on his blade, replied, "I have seen enough to know I will never stand idly again."
Scene 5: Return to Mosul
Location: Fortress Hall, Mosul – Two days later
The party returned to Mosul to a quiet welcome. No drums or celebration, only the calm approval of commanders.
Inside the hall, Shirkuh awaited with folded arms.
"I hear you fought like a lion," he said.
Salahuddin smiled faintly. "It was my first taste. But the bitterness lingers."
Shirkuh nodded. "Good. A man who feels the pain of others will fight not just for glory, but for justice."
Najm ad-Din turned to his son. "You were born to serve a cause greater than your own name. This was your beginning. There is much more ahead."
Scene 6: Reflections Under the Stars
Location: Fortress Balcony – Midnight
Salahuddin sat alone, gazing at the stars. He thought of the village, the wounded, the burning homes. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but his mind was on the people he would one day protect.
He whispered, "Ya Allah, guide my sword, steady my heart. Let me never forget why I fight."
From a distance, Najm ad-Din watched his son, the flicker of torchlight reflecting in his eyes. He turned to Shirkuh.
"He is no longer a boy. Tonight, he became a soldier."
---
Chapter 6 ends here.