The Sultan looked complex and stood in front of his beloved and hated second son.
"Dilaman, my good son..."
"Father!" diraman quickly grabbed the iron fence with red eyes and a ferocious look, "father, I thought for several days. I think there are loopholes in our defense. If the British can send shells to the wharf, we will accumulate too much oil there..."
"You must have heard what happened last night, brother."
A long and thin figure suddenly flashed out behind the Sultan, elamah Ben said, the great prince of the Sultanate, and the biggest loser after diraman was favored.
His face glowed with a sickly blush.
"Your plot succeeded. We personally buried the whole coastal fort. The fire is still burning. In order to prevent the fire from spreading further, my father had to order to bulldoze the houses close to the wharf, and 72 families were displaced."
"My plot... Succeeded?" dilaman was stunned. "How is it possible? Our coast gun has an absolute advantage in range. Even if one or two stray bullets ignited tunyou, it should not be difficult to put it out..."
"Milani castle." elamah grinned, the corners of his mouth turned up, but his voice was obviously indignant. "The attack was launched from Milani castle, hundreds of shells fell from the sky, and the whole fort was within the scope of the attack. All the oil was detonated because of your suggestion, because my father believed in your suggestion."
"Englishman... Englishman..."
"It''s not just the British, is it? The hassadi family in riaman stationed in Mirani castle is the buffer for us to achieve peace with the Imam. To put it bluntly, hassadi is a priest, with only one exception in more than a hundred years..."
Elamah bared his teeth, and he pulled every syllable to the longest.
"Bashar hassadi, your chief of staff, where is he?"
On hearing that name, di Raman fell into an ice cave.
He suddenly understood his fault. He was accidentally released from Lorraine. All he thought about was how to persuade Sudan to be vigilant and guard against it. Therefore, he took away all the "old Muscat" close to the royal family, completely ignoring the feelings of those subordinates who followed him but were not with the royal family!
He didn''t even tell them the reason, because Lorraine didn''t give him a chance. All the generals and schools were locked in a cabin. He could only be far away and was not allowed to say more to anyone.
This is... A conspiracy!
Trembling with anger, dilaman grabbed the iron bar of the cell and howled madly: "this is a conspiracy, conspiracy! Despicable Englishman, despicable pagan! He deceived Bashar, deceived Bashar!"
Eilamanhe smiled coldly: "cheating? I took someone to check the mansion of hassadi''s house today, and the building was empty!"
"That''s because the British deceived him! Bashar thought he was abandoned by the royal family. Maybe he thought this was the beginning of our fight against the hassadi family. Of course, he would steal his family..."
"It''s far fetched! My brother. No one knew about your private dispatch of the fleet out of port before. Unless you or your people have an insider from the British, they can''t make plans around you and Bashar hassadi."
"Inside?" dilaman was stunned in situ, and his blood rushed to the top of his skull for only a moment. "It''s you!"
He yelled at elamah at the top of his voice.
"You told me that an English fleet stole into the mouth of Muscat Bay. You told me that they were disrespectful to their father. You told me that as long as they sank their father, his father would be happy..."
"You spit blood!"
"I didn''t!"
"Father!" "father!"
The old Sultan felt his head was going to explode.
Two sons... The eldest has the support of the Jalali family, an old aristocrat in Muscat, and the second has blood, talent, popularity and love.
They were his best successors, and now
The old Sultan rubbed his eyebrows: "Dilman..."
"Father!"
"You said that the hasadi family was deceived by the British, and you were deceived by the British..."
"Yes, yes, father!"
"Then prove it to me." the old Sultan threw down the key to his cell. "The coastal fort is destroyed. It doesn''t matter. As long as Mirani Castle returns to our arms, Muscat is still our indestructible Tomb of the Holy One."
"Yes!"
……
January 16.
Lorraine has been ashore for three days.
Nothing new happened, and hassadi and I didn''t meet him.
The advantages and disadvantages of port burning night are hard to say. At least in milaniburg, whites and Arabs are divided into two distinct groups.
White people occupy all the open-air places of the castle, including the roof, walls, stairways and docks. Just like the novels read by Lorraine I, they live a life similar to that on trees.
Arabs occupy places that are not open. Towers, turrets and gun walls are dark and silent. The mode of life is like shuttling through mines.
Lorraine suddenly thought that the dwarves and elves in those novels also seem to have the relationship of confrontation and cooperation, and their confrontation time in the background is far better than their awkward coexistence in the story.
Like unpopular reality.
After all, the reason why a story can become a story is that there is often a dragon that feeds on two races at the same time.
The two unpleasant races unite because the dragons resist their disgust, coexist in unity, cooperate in unity, look for each other''s advantages in unity, or fabricate some of each other''s advantages.
The dragon is the root of a good life.
"But... Where''s the dragon?" Lorraine said behind him, leaning bored against the battlement and kicking the brick. "Go and invite Mr. Aziz. It''s time to eat. It''s time to tell a story again."
Aziz is one of the 23 omanians who have taken the initiative to become "friends" these days. Unlike those friends who like leisure, hate work, fear of punishment, vendors and prosperity, Aziz is special.
He was a semi civilian officer who was in charge of field marshal manzeri at the flagship of the bagala guard and was named lieutenant colonel.
He was a forced aristocrat, and in terms of seniority, he was barely a side nephew of the marshal.
He was also a historian, specializing in the 6th to 7th centuries, when the prophet was not a prophet, and was still looking for a class leap between herding and traveling like a mortal.
Therefore, Aziz Ze manzeri is a pseudo believer. He does not expect 72 beautiful virgins in heaven, nor does he enjoy the stimulating life of machetes and scriptures. His religious belief can keep him from being excluded, which is the only reason why he believes in religion.
After a while, Aziz came to the battlements.
"Does the president want to hear a story again?" he asked in fluent French without an accent.
"I don''t want to hear too long stories today." Lorraine looked at the figures flashing by the stone window opposite, and suddenly had a whim, "Aziz, how long can you keep out of the sun?"
"In theory, you can never bask in the sun." Aziz thought or didn''t want to answer directly, "there are legends about blood sucking monsters in your West. This monster is still human in nature, but he only haunts at night and never dies."
Lorraine couldn''t help laughing: "the blood sucking monster is the enemy''s slander on the son of the dragon. As far as I know, the earliest origin is Ottoman Turkey. It should be regarded as a strange legend of the * * * world."
"Son of the dragon?"
"Vlad zeppesh dekula, the Archduke of valachia, Vlad III, the master of dekula castle."
"His father Vlad tagul was a member of the main Dragon Knight organization of the Catholic Church against the Ottoman Empire at that time. Tagul means" dragon "in Latin, and Dracula is the" son of the dragon ", so Lord Vlad III has the honorary title of the son of the dragon."
"But if you find any clues about him in your culture, he should be more called the puncturer. This contempt comes from his bad habit. He likes to pierce the captured enemies with spears and rot in front of the suspension bridge of Dracula Castle row by row."
"It is said that the corpses rotten with spears once frightened an ottoman turkish general who called Lord Vlad III a bloodthirsty monster. But maybe his Latin is not standard? In short, over time, there will be a legend of that absurd blood sucking monster."
Aziz listened with interest: "it''s a pleasure to chat with you. It always confirms my point of view. I always think that all legends come from reality, such as lightning, wind, heat wave and virgins."
"Virgin should not be a legend." Lorraine waved his hand. "The Ottoman Caliph ruled the Arab Empire in its heyday. He can''t make a paradise that even the old people in the mountains can make."
Aziz''s expression was more cheerful.
"Today is of great significance to my life, my generous president, so I''m ready to dedicate the most beautiful story to you."
He cleared his throat.
"This story will make me abandon my motherland completely. But I promise that after listening to this story, smart as you will be able to regain harmony with important allies..."