The behavior of the Christians was hardly better. The Patriarch Heraclius preferred to “rescue” Church treasure, particularly relics, rather than contribute to the ransoms of the poor. Other rich citizens followed his example. Cheating, stealing, extortion, blackmail, demanding and selling sexual favors, and every other method, savory and unsavory, were employed to obtain the necessary money for ransoms—while the value of everything, from jewelry and silver plate to silk and sex, fell due to the glut on the market.
The Hospital of St. John in Jerusalem, however, did turn over King Henry’s treasure for the ransom of the agreed ten thousand paupers—and the Templars, too, relinquished some of their treasure to ransom some of the poor. Other private citizens did the same.
When the forty days were up, the citizens with ransom receipts formed into three columns with all their portable goods and chattels. The lay-brothers from the Temple formed an escort for those who wished to proceed to Alexandria and these lined up in front of the Zion Gate and were let out on presentation of their receipts. At the Jaffa Gate, the Hospitallers escorted those citizens bound for Jaffa to take ships from there to Christian lands. The Hospitallers took with them all the orphans as well as the wounded, paying the ransoms of the sick as part of the lump sum they had provided. Sister Adela rode in the lead wagon, surrounded by her sisters. One of those, Patricia, was sobbing as she remembered that day, now so long ago, when she had first seen Jaffa full of wonder and joy. . . .
Those who chose to travel north to the Christian territories that had not yet surrendered—Tyre, Tripoli, and Antioch—departed by St. Stephen’s Gate; this convoy was to be escorted by the Baron of Ibelin and his remaining forty-eight knights, including Sir Galeran and the one-armed Sir Alexander. All of Balian’s household was in this column, including the widows Beth and Tsion, Sirs Mathewos, Roger, and Constantine, Father Michael, and Georgios.
By noon everyone with a receipt had departed the city. The gates were closed again, and the process of rounding up the slaves began. Just as no Muslims had been allowed to live in crusader Jerusalem, no Christians were to be allowed to remain in Muslim Jerusalem. All remaining Christians were to be taken to the slave markets of Damascus and Aleppo.
Godwin Olafsen had discovered he had need of money after all—just as his wife had warned. When everything was scraped together and they had sold everything they could sell in a city flooded with superfluous goods, he had the equivalent of just ten dinars. With that he paid the ransom for his wife and his daughters, but there was not enough for Sven, much less himself.
Cursing him roundly, his wife had joined the column bound for Jaffa, preferring the protection of the Hospital to that of the Templars or the secular knights, and hoping for a passage home to Norway from the coastal port. She could dream of returning home, because she had a secret store of seven dinars about which her husband knew nothing. Of course she could have bought Sven’s freedom with that, but she did not want to be weighed down and hampered by the cripple any longer. What man would marry a woman with a crippled son? She had sacrificed enough for him already, she reasoned, and she owed it to her daughters to give them a new start and a better future.
When they came to round up the slaves and drive them out of the Jehoshaphat Gate, Godwin was found in the courtyard of the Holy Sepulcher with several thousand others. The Saracens shouted and pointed and then, when people didn’t move, they began kicking people into motion. Godwin lifted his terrified son on his back and started out of the courtyard with the others. Some children were crying, and here and there a woman sobbed, but most of the throng was still, too overcome by their fate for any outward lamentation. They had, after all, seen it coming for forty days.
The column of slaves shuffled forward slowly. What was the point of rushing into misery? Why weary oneself when there would never be an end to the journey? Godwin could feel his son trembling, and he would have liked to comfort him, but what could he possibly say?
They reached the Jehoshaphat Gate and Godwin, like many others, slowed to cast one last look over his shoulder at the City of God. He had come here with such high hopes, and all had been disappointed. Not only was Sven still a cripple—now his family was torn apart, and he had lost everything except life itself. Tears were streaming down many faces, silently, but Godwin had no tears. He cursed God for betraying him.
Beyond the gate the road dipped down sharply toward Gethsemane, and Saracen horsemen with fluttering silks and bejeweled turbans sat upon their gleaming horses, watching the slaves trudge by. Many laughed and joked and patted their prancing horses in obvious high spirits. Godwin kept his eyes down, too ashamed of where he had ended.
Sven tugged at his hair. “Father! Look! Look! Isn’t that the Baron of Ibelin?”
Godwin caught his breath and looked up. To his horror, he saw that sitting directly beside the most splendid of all the Saracens was indeed the Baron of Ibelin. He was mounted not on his gray charger but on a bay stallion already gray at the muzzle, but he was wearing a splendid surcoat of marigold and scarlet silk. His chain mail gleamed, and at his hip was the beautiful enameled pommel of Defender of Jerusalem.
Godwin looked down at his feet and bounced Sven higher on his back. His wife had been right: he was a fool. The sword was worth his ransom twice over—and he had given it away to a wealthy man.
The Saracens were shouting something, but Godwin had never learned Arabic and just kept plodding forward, until one of the Saracens grabbed him roughly by the arm and shouted something in his face. The man shoved him to the side so roughly that he almost lost his footing and Sven called out in alarm, clutching at his neck hard enough to nearly choke him.
“I’m going already!” Godwin protested, but he didn’t know where he was going. He just tried to evade the man, who chased him with blows and kicks, until he was suddenly thrust in front of the horses and looked up again at the Baron of Ibelin at close range.
“Forgive me,” the baron said. “I have forgotten your name, but you made my sword.”
“Yes, my lord,” Godwin mumbled.
“If I had known your circumstances earlier, I would have ensured your ransom was paid before you suffered this indignity, but I will pay it now. The boy is your son?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Do you have other family?”
For a moment Godwin hesitated, but then he shook his head. “Not anymore.”
Ibelin nodded, turned to the Sultan, and spoke in a rush of Arabic. The Sultan smiled but shook his head, making a gesture which provoked a flood of Arabic from the man beside him. Godwin could understand none of what was spoken, but he had seen the Sultan shake his head, and he dropped his own head in despair. The forty days were up; the Sultan was sticking to the letter of the agreement. He was still a slave.
“Shall I take the boy up behind me on my saddle?” the baron broke into his thoughts.
“My lord?” Godwin looked up, puzzled.
“Your son? Shall I take him behind me on my saddle so you can catch up to the rest of the column faster? They have a fair start on us. Once we catch up, he can ride on one of the wagons.”
“But—I thought—the Sultan refused you—”
“He refused payment. Instead, he has turned over five hundred slaves as a gift.”
“I am free? Sven and I are both free?” Godwin wanted to be absolutely sure he had not misunderstood. He did not want to rejoice too soon.
“I may have lost Jerusalem,” Ibelin answered, “but I have not yet lost my heart or soul—and with both, I intend to keep on fighting for the things I love.”
Historical Note
BALIAN D’IBELIN WAS AN IMPORTANT HISTORICAL figure, and his name and deeds are depicted in the contemporary chronicles of both Christians and Muslims. Yet while his contributions to history are part of the record, many facts about his personal life went unrecorded. Given the gaps and contradictions concerning many key aspects of his biography, this novel has opted for a lucid story line that is not inconsiste
nt with key known facts and in no way violates the important features of the historical record, but may condense some events to make the story more coherent and dramatically effective.
Before focusing on the things I’ve changed, let me highlight the key events of Balian’s life covered in this volume that—surprising as they may seem—are historical fact.
• Guy and Aimery de Lusignan’s father, Hugh VIII, died in Saracen captivity. Aimery came to the Holy Land in the early 1170s. He was himself captured, but was ransomed by King Amalric, and he thereafter married Eschiva d’Ibelin, the eldest daughter of Baldwin d’Ibelin (called Barry throughout this book to avoid confusion with King Baldwin).
• According to the Chronicle of Ernoul, a document that has since been lost but which was quoted extensively in later chronicles, Baldwin d’Ibelin (Barry) allegedly courted (or had an affair with) Princess Sibylla after the death of William de Montferrat.
• The Christian forces met with a large Saracen army, led by Salah ad-Din’s nephew, on the Litani and initially routed it, only to be forced to retreat when the Templars broke and fled before Salah ad-Din’s main force. King Baldwin was unhorsed in the engagement and was carried off the field by one of his knights. Balian’s elder brother Baldwin (Barry), Baron of Ramla, was taken captive in this battle.
• Apparently because it was assumed Ramla would soon marry Princess Sibylla and thereby become “heir apparent” to the Kingdom of Jerusalem, Salah ad-Din demanded a king’s ransom for Ramla’s release—and the Byzantine Emperor was prepared to pay part of it.
• When Ramla’s ransom was finally paid and he returned to Jerusalem, however, he found his place in Princess Sibylla’s affections had been taken by Guy de Lusignan, who (according to Ernoul) had seduced her. Ernoul goes on to claim that the King wanted Lusignan hanged for “debauching” a princess of Jerusalem, but was persuaded by his sister and mother to let Sibylla marry Guy instead. Ernoul was a squire to Balian d’Ibelin, and historians question his account of events, suggesting they are an attempt to cast Ramla’s later refusal to take an oath of allegiance to Guy de Lusignan in a favorable (chivalric) light.
• William of Tyre, the most reliable and only contemporary chronicler, claimed that Baldwin IV feared a coup d’état by Tripoli, Antioch, and Baldwin of Ramla at Easter 1180, and so married off his sister “in haste” to the adolescent (sic) Guy de Lusignan to prevent Ramla from marrying Sibylla and laying claim to the throne. Tyre admits that King Baldwin later intensely regretted this hasty decision.
• The accounts of Ernoul and Tyre are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Without alleging seduction or illicit relations, Tyre’s account suggests that Baldwin of Ramla had reason to believe he would marry Sibylla—and Sibylla’s later loyalty to Guy, even after he had been utterly disgraced, suggests her feelings for him were stronger than mere sibling obedience. Thus my account of the events at Easter 1180 merges both accounts into a coherent story.
• On July 15, 1182, in intense summer heat, the Christian army fought Salah ad-Din to a standstill at Le Forbelet; the monk carrying the True Cross did die of sunstroke during the battle. The exact sequence of events at the battle is not recorded.
• Isabella was taken away from her mother at the age of eight and sent to live with her future husband and in-laws at Kerak. This was done, historians contend, to remove her from “the evil influence” of Maria Zoë Comnena and “the Ibelins.” Why Maria Zoë and the Ibelins were such an “evil” influence is hard to explain, given the historical record of both. However, they certainly opposed Agnes de Courtenay, her policies, and her protégé Guy de Lusignan, so the move was certainly political, with the eight-year-old a pawn.
• Reynald de Châtillon did lead a raid deep into Arabia during a truce in 1181.
• Reynald de Châtillon launched six galleys in the Red Sea in late 1182. They caused immense havoc until Salah ad-Din’s brother brought an Egyptian fleet overland to challenge and eventually defeat them. Although Châtillon is almost universally given sole blame for this, Professor Bernard Hamilton argues very persuasively that the costs would have been beyond Châtillon’s means, and the advantages to the Kingdom were enormous. I have opted, therefore, for Hamilton’s version of events, which makes the enterprise a strategic one designed to undermine Salah ad-Din’s standing and sanctioned (secretly) by the King, rather than an irresponsible plundering raid by a rogue baron. The fate of the crews is recorded; the survival of the fictional Henri d’Ibelin is equally fictional.
• The Christian army under Guy de Lusignan thwarted another Saracen invasion in the fall of 1183. The only recorded action in this campaign was the skirmish between Salah ad-Din’s forces and Aimery de Lusignan, “reinforced by the Ibelin brothers,” over the springs at La Tubanie. Very little else is recorded about the campaign, but it is clear that the army returned hugely dissatisfied with Guy de Lusignan’s leadership. Professor Hamilton suggests that inadequate provisions and the sacking of monasteries were the principal grounds for the dissatisfaction, and I have followed him here. While the issue of provisions may sound like a minor point, Napoleon allegedly said an army marched on its stomach, and Richard I of England was in part successful because of his meticulous attention to provisioning his army.
• The siege of Kerak in the midst of Isabella’s wedding to Humphrey of Toron is also a historical fact, as is the refusal of the barons to march to the relief of Kerak until the succession had been settled and Baldwin V crowned co-monarch. Whether Stephanie de Milly really offered Salah ad-Din part of the wedding feast is doubtful—but it is recorded in the Chronicle of Ernoul, a contemporary document written by Balian d’Ibelin’s real-life squire, so it is not my invention. The lighting of a fire on the Tower of David is also fact, not fiction.
• The ensuing back-and-forth struggle between Baldwin IV and Guy de Lusignan is, tragically, history rather than fiction. Baldwin gave Guy the Regency in exchange for Jerusalem and ten thousand bezants a year. When asked to exchange Tyre for Jerusalem, Guy refused. He also refused to come to Jeru salem in the spring of 1184, he refused Baldwin admittance to Ascalon, and he finally attacked Bedouins under Baldwin’s protection. Baldwin formally and publicly excluded Guy from the succession and the Regency of his nephew, and he consulted clerics about how to dissolve his sister’s marriage to Guy. Shortly before his death, he made his barons swear to seek the advice of the Kings of France and England, the Holy Roman Emperor, and the Pope rather than accept Guy de Lusignan as King in the event Baldwin V were to die before his majority. In short, the historical record makes it clear that by 1184 the relationship between Baldwin and Guy was acrimonious, and the pleas of others for reconciliation fell on deaf ears.
• It was during this period that William of Tyre was excommunicated by the Patriarch Heraclius. The date and cause are both unknown, and the cause is the source of much speculation.
• The second siege of Kerak is also historical fact, as is the siege of Nablus and the fact that not a single Christian was killed in Nablus. Since Balian was with the army at this time, historians presume Maria Comnena was in command of the defense of Nablus. While it is known that Nablus had no walls and that the people must have taken refuge in the citadel, there is no remaining archaeological evidence of a citadel at Nablus, and so the conjecture is that it was not a very substantial building.
• Patrick, Earl of Salisbury, was killed in an ambush by “the Lusignan brothers” that was intended to capture Queen Eleanor. William Marshal’s biographer describes how Salisbury first put Queen Eleanor on his fastest palfrey and was then run through by a lance from behind as he went to mount another horse. Marshal’s biography stresses that Salisbury was not wearing armor. Marshal allegedly fought valiantly until he was wounded in the thigh, and his poor treatment as a prisoner of the Lusignans is described by his biographer, as well as the kindness of a lady of the house. What is unclear is which of the Lusignan brothers (or their retainers) actually drove the deadly lance into Salisbury’s unprot
ected back. The English chronicler Roger of Howden says it was Geoffrey, the second of the Lusignan brothers, older than both Aimery and Guy. Furthermore, if it was Guy rather than one of his older brothers, he would have been very young at the time. However, his very youth might explain his impetuosity and stupidity at killing a prize worth a large ransom. It would also explain why Guy was persona non grata in the Plantagenet lands, and so why Guy found it advantageous to go to the Holy Land. Although some chroniclers make the claim that he was the murderer of Salisbury, there is ultimately no evidence. I have chosen to make Guy guilty for dramatic purposes.
• Humphrey de Toron’s hereditary barony was turned over to the Crown in exchange for a money fief. William of Tyre suggests the swap was part of the marriage contract with Isabella, but subject to “certain conditions” that he did not divulge. If it was part of the contract, then the swap was made over his head by his mother and Reynald de Châtillon—very much to his disadvantage.
• Balian did carry Baldwin V on his shoulders for the ceremony at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. This mark of royal favor for such a minor baron is not adequately explained by his being “exceptionally tall.”
• Sibylla and Guy seized the throne in 1186 in a clear violation of Baldwin IV’s arrangements and without the consent of the High Court of Jerusalem. Whether these acts constituted a usurpation is perhaps debatable, but certainly their actions were “irregular” and of dubious legality. Equally clear is that Sibylla only managed to gain support from a minority of the baronage and prelates by promising to divorce Guy and marry another man—only to then go back on her word and chose Guy as her consort. Sibylla’s only known supporters were her uncle Joscelin of Edessa, Reynald de Châtillon, and the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Gerard de Ridefort. While the Grand Master did not have a seat on the High Court, he commanded more knights than any single baron and had access to more resources from the West. Allegedly the Templars took control of Jerusalem in the critical weeks, and so their support was vital to Guy’s success.
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