Chapter 18: The Heart of a Lion
Nasr II of the Family of Nasrid was walking down the bleak marble floor in a silence that could shatter the souls of one thousand broken hearts. Standing at a perpendicular point from where I was standing and Nasr II was approaching was Nasr II’s mother, a forceful women whose large nose definitely brought attention to her. Standing next to her was the recently promoted Head Imam, Qasif, who was cleanly cut, an anomaly for most of the Imams I had seen. Among the crowd were multiple nobles and a few of the more powerful families in the Bourgeois class. They had all gathered there to coronate Nasr II, who had come to the throne after four years of a regency council that had left the country crippled both diplomatically and economically. Normally, Coronations were held in the Royal Palace at Granada, since it was the capital, but this time, it was held in the newly constructed Palace of Florence, whose grandness rivaled that of the Alcazar of Sevilla. It was only held in this very location on the insistence of Nasr II’s mother, who sated the reason that she wanted to inherit his title near the location of his birthplace, which was a twenty minutes horse ride outside of Florence. After what felt like hours, Nasr II reached the head of the room:
Qasif: When you place this crown on your head, you take the responsibility of not only your kingdom and people, but also the responsibility of spreading the glorious religion of Islam, and all it entails.
(Places crown on Nasr II)
Qasif: I now pronounce you Sultan Nasr II, conqueror of infidels, and the bringer of peace.
After the coronation, a large celebration broke outside of the castle in the city square. Multiple jesters had been hired, and mayflower poles had been strung up along the courtyard, attracting children of all ages to join in the fun. But instead of attending the festivities, Nasr II had immediately settled down to work, calling his most trusted advisors, which included most of his father’s dearest friends, including General Forquud, Sergi, the Artist, and Bevlat, the head of the treasury. Not there however, was Khaliq, who had recently retired from the service and now held a minor title and a small piece of land in Cadiz.
Nasr II: Greetings my dearest friends, I welcome you to the first court session of the reign of myself, Nasr II. I would love to exchange pleasantries with you all, but that is not the kind of man I am. I am a man of action, of doing, not someone who twiddles their thumbs all day as farms are left unattended, and our cities’ walls are left to crumble. So today, I call you to prepare for tenure of action, of change, change that shall shape our nation for the centuries to come. For multiple centuries, the abhorrent Portuguese have been raiding our lands, stealing our sheep, and slaughtering out kin. It is time for us to push back, seize their cities, and plunder their wealth that is rightfully ours.
General Forquud: As much as I would like to take part in this Jihad, we still have a truce, which would send our people to the brink of revolt if they knew that they were being drug back into war after just recently being released from the chains of it. Also, the Portuguese have rebounded quickly and provide an army larger than what we can provide in the field.
Nasr II: General, you make a valid point, we shall wait, but when we choose to strike, we will aim for the heart of the lion.
Salim was outsides of the gates of Lisbon, a sprawling trade city that brought in lots of trade from Northern Africa and Portugal. He had recently been shipped across the ocean and refitted with heavy battle armor as to participate in the Sultan’s war that had been started in June of 1458 due to Aragon’s current war with their former allies. Alentejo had been quickly seized with a successful assault, which smartly, Nasr II had not participated in as his father. This would be Salim’s last campaign, and he planned on using the loot he gained from Lisbon to pay for a piece of land in the Italian countryside, but first, he had to survive first. The battering ram hit once, twice, thrice, but the fourth time, it fell down, revealing a horde or Portuguese Militia. With the sound of a trumpet, Salim and his countrymen charged into the fallen gates. Salim, not used to combat was shocked when using his iron mace; he beat in the skull of a boy that could be no older than sixteen. The fighting went on for several hours, but by then, the troops had broken through, and the looting began. The first house Salim barged his way into was unoccupied, with its tenants obviously having fled when the siege began. He did not find much of value except some gold jewelry, which may catch a fair price on the markets in Siena. In the second house, he barged in as he had done in the first, but there was a man waiting for him. The man lunged at the throat of Salim with his knife, but Salim caught his arm in time and threw him into the adjacent table, sending him sprawling. The man yet again lunged for Salim, but Salim caught him by the throat sending the man to the floor and the knife sliding across the stone. In a desperate attempt to save himself, the man began crawling for the knife, but before he arrived, Salim stomped on his hand, forcing a yelp of pain from his body. The man was finished, and as Salim went for the kill, the man uttered one word. Please. This word made Salim stop and look at the man. He studied him for a quick second; he had blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair. Salim realized that this man too was trying to get through his life, with his own ambition and dreams. And on that note, Salim took mercy on the man, leaving his house with everything but his china, which had been pocketed by Salim.
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After the fall of Lisbon, Portugal signed a peace handing over Alentejo and a sum of 150 million ducats.