by D. N. Carter
“And to what do we owe the pleasure of a young Muslim lass being inside our Christian chapel, and one wearing such a fine and expensive shawl no less?” the nearest but shortest of the sailors asked, grinning.
“I…I simply wished to see inside for I have heard much of this place,” she nervously replied, lowering her hand to feel the dagger still tucked within her waistband.
The sailor blocking the aisle moved closer and stood with his face very close to Alisha’s, forcing her to step backwards. As she did, she bumped into the short sailor. She yelped and jumped forwards as all three laughed.
“Has no one told you it is rude for a non Christian to enter a Christian chapel uninvited?” the third sailor gravelled out, his tone menacing.
As the tall sailor blocking the aisle leaned in to Alisha, he smelt her, grasped her hair and rubbed it through his fingers then stroked a finger down her cheek. Alisha recoiled in revulsion as the sailor’s breath stank. She shuddered.
“Too good for you, are we?” the sailor mocked.
Alisha pulled out the dagger from under her cloak and shaking with fear she raised it pointing it towards his face.
“Oh, feisty as well. We could have some fun with this one,” the sailor mocked again and rubbed his hands together just as the other sailor grabbed Alisha’s arm from behind, twisted her around, bent her hand back causing her to drop the dagger. Alisha let out a scream, but the sailor quickly covered her mouth with his dirty hand and pulled her upright, placing his face against hers. She started shaking with fear, her eyes welling with tears.
“Well, well, well…this is one mighty fine and expensive blade…perhaps you would barter this?” the small sailor said as he picked the dagger up and started to look over it.
Suddenly the entrance door burst open and the young Templar entered immediately seeing what was happening and without hesitation drew his broadsword and rapidly approached the group, closely followed by another tall Templar.
Instantly the sailor let go of Alisha and pushed her away.
“We found this Muslim scum in our chapel…with a dagger,” the small sailor said, quickly holding up the dagger.
“Stand away from her now!” the young Templar ordered still approaching them fast, his sword raised level pointing directly at them. He stopped just short of the small sailor, the point of his blade just inches from his throat. “I know this girl and scum she is not…that honour falls to you three alone. Now pray tell me what occurs here?” he demanded to know as the other Templar pulled Alisha behind him.
“We were just praying to our Lord when this girl burst in. She is a Muslim. Have you not heard the rumours of what Saladin is planning? All Muslims are to be fair game,” the sailor blurted out, trying to appear calm, but with sweat rivulets beginning to fall down his face.
“Exactly…rumours, you fool! Now give me that and back away,” he commanded, reaching forwards and taking the blade from him.
“We are just leaving, young Templar…but I will not forget thee, nor thee, little missy,” the sailor said as he hesitantly eased past Alisha and the other Templar.
Alisha watched nervously as the three sailors mocked and muttered under their breath as they left the chapel. Only when the door slammed shut did Alisha let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you so much…thank you…I had no idea…,” she started to explain as the two Templars re-sheathed their swords.
“Fear not, we shall make a note of those three. They will not be allowed back into the citadel. We have enough troubles to deal with without the added foolishness of people like that adding to it and spreading rumours,” the young Templar explained reassuringly and gently grasped Alisha’s arm.
Alisha stood herself up straight, shook her head and flicked her hair back trying to look calm despite feeling shaken and sick.
“I am eternally thankful you came in when you did. Perhaps I can one day thank you properly for I can only offer words of thanks,” Alisha stated.
“Your words are more than gift enough,” the young Templar replied, smiling as the second Templar raised an eyebrow and also smiled seeing clearly his colleague was obviously enamoured of Alisha. The tall Templar had a strange almost upside down smile.
“You should be more aware and cautious, fair child,” the other, taller and older, Templar said, his voice deep. “If young Nicholas of Blancofort here had not felt something was wrong, I fear things could have been a little awkward for you,” he explained.
“I shall be. I had not realised how much things had changed in just a few months. I am grateful…Nicholas of Blancofort,” Alisha said and gestured for him to give back her dagger.
Nicholas looked at the dagger for a short while, then handed it back. Quickly Alisha placed it back within her waistband and pulled her robe down straight and shook her head, her hair falling down around her face loose.
“If you must carry such a weapon, pray you learn to use it properly, and please, just call me Brother Nicholas,” Nicholas said softly.
“Your brother should not have left you alone during these tense times,” the older Templar said and ushered Alisha towards the door. “Plus, a beautiful girl such as yourself would do wise to perhaps hide her wares from prying eyes such as our not too pleasant sailor friends, for they will oft take what they see fit to suit their own base desires, regardless of position or religion,” he continued to explain as they walked along the aisle.
“I shall try,” Alisha replied part embarrassed and part annoyed at the sailors as the realisation of what had just happened began to dawn upon her.
As Alisha exited the chapel, she shielded her eyes from the sun but could just make out the three sailors walking away still jeering and laughing at her as they left. The two Templars stood on either side of her, just as a squadron of Templars trotted into the main courtyard area through the citadel’s gate, dust and noise suddenly filling the area. The Templars were all tired and covered in dirt, their faces covered in sweat, the horses marked with white sweat lines from their ride. Within moments the entire square was a frenzy of activity as squires, turcopoles and other members of the Order helped the knights dismount and assisted with their horses. One of the Templars, still on horseback, noted Alisha and the two Templars and turned his horse towards them. The Turcoman grey horse was the biggest horse Alisha had ever seen as it approached.
“Brothers, what say ye occurs here?” asked the mounted knight, sweat streaming from his face, the horse neighing its head up and down as a squire ran up to it. The knight unbuckled his shield from his back and passed it down to the squire.
Alisha looked at the coat of arms upon the shield. It was red with a yellow band across the top. Three vertical stripes of alternating white and blue, and what she thought were squared off bells, ran from the yellow band to the base of the shield. He was not a Templar, that much she immediately realised and he gave off a strong presence of menace. He stared hard at her, which made her feel uncomfortable. When he licked his lips as if savouring a meal to eat, she shuddered. Nicholas noticed this.
“Sire, she is a guest of the marshal and the bishop. She has temporary abodes at the cathedral mews. We are just about to escort her back,” Nicholas explained as the knight kept staring at Alisha.
2 – 10
“Really…indeed. What a strange world we live in these days. I shall have words with our marshal and bishop. Brother Nicholas, ’tis good to see you again…and pray tell me your name, fair lady?” the knight asked and wiped his mouth with his forearm and then used his scarf to wipe the sweat from his brow. Nicholas nodded his head in acknowledgement.
“Alisha,” she replied hesitantly.
“Alisha eh…A beautiful name for a clearly beautiful woman. How old are you, girl?” he then asked bluntly.
“Is it not impolite to ask a lady her age?” Alisha replied instantly, trying to mask the tension in her voice from being nervous.
“A lady, eh?” The knight laughed loudly, which made several of the other Templars look
over. “You are but still a baby…but I see defiance in those pretty eyes, young thing,” he boomed out loudly and pulled the reins hard to stop his horse from moving. “Tell me, girl, are you here for long?” he then asked and leaned down to look at her closer. Alisha squinted and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun shining directly behind the knight casting his features into silhouette only.
“I know not how long…and pray tell your good name, sire?” she asked.
“Bless her. She does not know of me. Priceless!” he said loudly and dismounted directly in front of her. As he moved out of the sun directly behind him, Alisha was able to see his features again clearly and up close. She could smell the heavy odour of sweat from him as the sea wind gently blew in through the main entrance kicking up mini dust devils amongst the other horses and Templars. “I am Reynald…Reynald de Chatillon… but my friends call me Renaud,” he said and grabbed her hand and quickly kissed it.
He held her hand for some moments just looking directly into her eyes. Even when she pulled her hand back, he simply held it tighter. She could feel the dampness of his sweat through his riding gloves.
“What goes on here?” Taqi asked as he appeared from behind Reynald.
Reynald let go of Alisha’s hand, stood up straight and looked Taqi up and down with a look of disdain upon his face.
“What matter has it of you?” he shot back.
“This is my sister,” Taqi explained and immediately moved to stand next to her, placing his arm around her.
“My, you have the men already at your command. We shall have cause to meet again I am sure…Alisha. I never forget a pretty face,” Reynald said as he removed his riding gloves and smiled broadly, then gave Taqi a cold stare. “Brothers, good day to you,” he finished and turned and walked away slapping his gloves on his tunic to knock off some of the dust that clung to his chain mail armour.
“He is a pig!” Alisha stated harshly.
“For a Muslim woman to say that, that is an insult,” Nicholas remarked.
“Sorry…forgive my sister, she has a habit of a speaking before thinking,” Taqi said and started to usher Alisha away.
“Oh fear not. I happen to agree,” Nicholas replied with a wry smile as the older knight also smiled and nodded in agreement. Taqi feigned a smile of relief then looked at Alisha shaking his head. “We shall walk you to your dorms. We would not like you to run into those sailors again,” he said as he walked alongside them.
“What sailors? Heavens above, Alisha, can I never leave you for more than five minutes?” Taqi asked.
“It was nothing…just some sailors being rude. But they did not make me feel as uncomfortable as that man just did,” Alisha said and looked across at Reynald as he was walking away.
“You are perceptive for sure. Reynald has many enemies, and not just Muslim either. Do not get me wrong, I respect him immensely, and he is brave, albeit recklessly so, but he is most definitely not a man to mess with or get on the wrong side of,” Nicholas explained.
“The Red Wolf of Kerak and Saladin’s greatest nightmare,” the older Templar said as they walked.
“Red Wolf? But Kerak is miles from here,” Taqi said puzzled.
“’Tis indeed, but the trade routes that Kerak, more correctly Reynald, depend upon all run through this region, especially here in Tortosa. That is where he has been again these past few days. Protecting the trade and pilgrim routes,” the older knight explained.
“Yes, protecting not exactly being the correct word,” Nicholas said and looked at Alisha and Taqi in turn and frowned at the older Templar, letting out a sarcastic laugh.
“I thought you said you respected him?” Taqi said.
“Oh we do, make no mistake on that point. Respect does not necessarily mean we like him. He is not our master, but he has military clout out here and power. His mindless and reckless policy of constantly raiding Muslim caravans, even during periods of truce, constantly undermines the fragile peace we have here in the Levant. He alone may well cause the virtual destruction of our Latin kingdom if he is not kept under control and in check,” Nicholas explained.
“Do you really think things have become that bad?” Taqi asked.
“Sadly, yes,” Nicholas replied.
“Are you not aware of what happened just last year?” the older Templar quizzed.
Taqi and Alisha looked at each puzzled, shaking their heads no.
“Last November (1177), Reynald, heading the army of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, helped King Baldwin defeat Saladin at the Battle of Montgisard. That is where I first met him. We were incredibly outnumbered, just hundreds of us compared with the twenty-six thousand in Saladin’s forces. Totally outnumbered, we won the day and Saladin was forced to flee on a racing camel. The day would have been very different but for Reynald,” Nicholas explained.
“But I thought that was all false and that Saladin won the day,” Taqi shot back.
Both Templar’s looked at each other.
“My friend, you are Muslim and my wish is not to question you nor insult you, so let me say that the whole escapade was a debacle that should never have occurred. But we were there and we did win the day. It is why Saladin had to go back to Cairo so swiftly and agree to a new truce. One which Reynald is still constantly trying to break to force another war. He hates all that Islam stands for,” Nicholas detailed.
“That is so sad,” Alisha said quietly.
“Reynald does not represent all of us, far from it,” the older Templar started to explain as they walked. “As prince of Antioch, he was known for being cruel and violent. He treated the patriarch Aimery with outrageous cruelty to extort money from him, so please do not ever mistake him for having the same high ideals of chivalry and honour many of us strive to reach. Know also that at the instigation of the Byzantine emperor Manuel I Comnenus, he attacked Armenian Cilicia, but subsequently he made peace with Thoros II of Cilicia and joined him in an invasion of Byzantine Cyprus. Manuel had his revenge in 1159 when Reynald was obliged to acknowledge himself as his vassal. The following year Reynald was taken prisoner by the Muslims and held captive until 1176. He swears he was treated badly but has yet to ever reveal just how as he returned in better health than when he went. Yes, it can be argued that his wife, Constance, had died in 1163 whilst he was in prison, leaving Antioch to Bohemond III, her son by her first husband, and that is why he hates Muslims with such a fervent bitterness. He returned to Jerusalem just last year and married Princess Stephanie, widow of the seigneur d’Outre-Jourdain, who owns a vast stretch of land from the east and to the south of the Dead Sea, thus becoming prince of Krak du Désert, Kerak or Crac de Moab as we call it, and of Montréal. His new strongholds control Muslim trade routes, which as you have just seen, he protects with a zeal and relish that is not normal,” the older Templar finished just as they approached the cathedral.
“My lady, for a lady you clearly are, we must bid you good day. We ask that for your own safety you remain within the cathedral grounds. We presently have many travellers passing through at the moment, and there are a lot of truly unsavoury types amongst them just spoiling for war so they can have an excuse to pillage, plunder and destroy,” Nicholas said, looking solely at Alisha.
“And rape…you forgot to add that!” the older Templar chipped in.
“I would like to see them try,” Alisha replied defiantly.
“I fear the choice would not be yours to make,” Taqi said and started to usher Alisha through the side door of the dormitory wing. “Gentlemen brothers, I thank you for your timely involvement with the sailors. It will not be forgotten and I am sure my father will find you to thank you,” he continued.
“It is what we are here for. To protect pilgrims…of any faith,” Nicholas replied with a broad smile and dipped his head as Taqi and Alisha entered the dormitory wing. Alisha smiled back at Nicholas as Taqi closed the door behind them.
“It’s never going to happen,” the older Templar said and slapped Nicholas on the back a
nd laughed.
“Shut up, Upside…that one could most definitely tempt me to break my vows,” Nicholas said wryly, shrugged his shoulders and smiled with a sigh but fell sideways nearly when the older Templar punched his arm hard.
“And stop calling me Upside…’Tis Brother Baldwin,” he smiled as he rubbed his fist as Nicholas grimaced mockingly back.
After checking on Raja, both Taqi and Alisha went to their respective rooms and rested, waiting until it was supper time or their father returned, whichever came first. As Alisha lay on the bed, she moved a small leather pouch fastened to her waistband, opened it and gently took out the parchment copy she had made of Paul’s poem to her. She read it with a large smile upon her face then rolled onto her back and held the poem to her chest. She had visited the chapel purely because she knew that Paul was so interested in the place. She felt if she could go there, it would somehow make her closer to him. She had not expected the sailors’ reaction to her. She shuddered briefly as she remembered their faces and menacing tone and comments. She felt for the dagger to make sure it was still concealed upon her person. It was. She wondered what Paul was up to and read the poem again.
Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191
“Bless her. How awful and frightening that must have been,” Sarah commented.
“Yes…But doesn’t that Templar Nicholas sound like a dream. How chivalrous of him,” the other female waitress suddenly chipped in, having sat back and in silence so far.