THE EMIRATE OF MOSUL
Imad ad-Din Zengi rides back into his palace in Mosul, his great city. He remembers when he took power, and then crushed Aleppo and Hama underfoot. A stable boy comes to take his horse away and he nods, murmuring a thanks. He strides into his office and sits down as two messengers walk in, bowing low to the carpet and murmuring a salaam. Zengi bids them rise, and awaits what they have to say. The first messenger speaks.
"Great Emir, the grand Seljuks desire a trade alliance." Zengi ponders for a moment, then nods. He drafts a letter.
"To the great Sultan of the Seljuks,
Assalaamalaikum, my patron. I do not know why you desire a trade agreement, you need not my permission, I am your humble servant, as you know from my help in defeating the treacherous Al-Mustarshid. A trade alliance is yours to exploit."
Zengi turns to the second messenger, who sweats slightly.
"Damascus wishes for an alliance, and to merge its territory to ours."
Zengi scratches his head, a slight scowl coming to his face.
"The Sunni welaad kalb (sons of dogs)? Hm, this is unexpected. I will see what they have to say." Zengi turns to his desk, drafting another letter.
"Wa alaikum salaam, Caliph Abu Musa,
I am interested in your offer of alliance and fealty, but do not know what spurs on this sudden kindness to me. However, I believe we should speak in person as good Moslems, allow us to meet somewhere upon our shared border. Perhaps Homs or Hama? -Imad ad-Din Zengi."