Outremer I

by D. N. Carter

  “My child…I have loved you so dearly…as much, if not more, than if you were my own daughter…and we have spoken and shared many things over the years. I have seen you grow from a rough and tumble independent wilful child into a considerate, intelligent and beautiful woman…and though I desire to live, to spend the rest of my days with Philip, I now know this dream will not be fulfilled in this life time.”

  “No, say no more of this, I will not hear it.”

  “Ali, listen to me. Your father and Taqi are going to need your wise council after I am gone.”

  1 – 21

  “Stop talking like this,” Alisha pleaded as tears welled in her eyes. She sniffed and tried to hold back her emotions.

  “Ali, my heart is damaged; I can feel it so now, more so than I thought last eve. You must prepare me. And please, I have a message written down for Philip I wish you to convey directly to him…and him alone. It is important and your father must not know.”

  “I cannot hide such a thing from Father.”

  “Ali, you hide that dagger always and well…so you know you can hide a small note. Trust me…it is very important!” Raja said trying to raise her voice more. She sighed heavily and collapsed back into her pillows exhausted. “See, I cannot even raise my head as my breath is too weak… you must face me towards the Qiblah (Direction of the Kabba in Mecca) and take the note before it is too late. It is hidden within my shawl stitched inside the right sleeve…promise me you shall,” Raja pleaded.

  “No, you cannot leave me…please, I have so much I still need to say to you and learn from you, please,” Alisha cried as tears started to fall uncontrollably.

  “Listen, child…I have always been by your side, and after this, I shall still be by your side but more so…you have to trust and believe me when I tell you this, for it is true. And when you have children of your own, I shall be right there next to you as you have them,” Raja said softly, her voice lowering. Alisha squeezed Raja’s hands together tightly, kissed them as more tears fell. Raja feigned a smile. “Before I go, there is just one thing I must tell you…but it is something you must never mention to your father…or Philip… that I have told you…is that understood?” Raja said and raised her hand from Alisha’s grip and cupped her tearful face. Alisha fought to contain her tears but to no avail. She nodded silently she understood. “Good. Always trust your instincts, always, for you have a special gift…and that includes how you feel for Paul. Do not be deterred from following what you feel is right whatever Philip or your father says to the contrary. This does not mean being disrespectful and not honouring their counsel. But you are destined to do things they both fear,” Raja explained slowly.

  “Destined…I do not understand,” Alisha replied, puzzled, and frowned.

  “And don’t frown so much…it will give you lines before your time,” Raja joked, wiping her finger across Alisha’s forehead. “You will understand in time. When you do, try not to fight it or change the direction of your destiny…just follow it. There are those out there who watch over you and protect you,” Raja continued to explain as Alisha looked even more confused.

  “Like who…and why?” Alisha asked.

  “Well, like the tall female warrior…the one who gave you that dagger you hold so close always and was there on the day those vile sailors ambushed you. She is always with you,” Raja explained as she sighed heavily and closed her eyes in pain.

  “Raja, Aunt, please. I do not understand all of this and why are you telling me now?”

  “Because I am dying, child…and you must be told. Now face me towards Qiblah,” Raja whispered, her eyes still closed.

  Alisha looked around the room as the sun lit it up more as it broke fully on the horizon. She noticed the small niche in the wall specially set so all visiting Muslim guests would know the direction to face when praying. Alisha gently moved Raja’s face to look at the niche.

  “There. You now face correctly. Please, Aunt, do not leave me now I beg of you,” Alisha cried.

  “Ali, never beg. And promise me…do not be angry with what your father and Philip hide from you for they have good reason to.”

  “I have no idea of what you say.”

  “You will…in time. Know this last thing also, my beautiful child,” Raja whispered, her eyes still shut. She paused for what seemed an age. Alisha grasped her hands around hers tightly as she saw the temples on her face appear to sink in, her chest drop and heard her sigh. Alisha shook her head, her vision blurring from the tears falling down her face. “The name you were born with…. was not Alisha,” she whispered even lower.

  “What?” Alisha asked thinking she must have misheard her.

  “Your real name…was Aalia…it means exalted and noble,” Raja said, barely whispering. She paused for a moment then started to recite a prayer. “O Allah, forgive me and have mercy on me and have me join higher companions. Ash’hadu allã ilãha illallãhu wahdahoo lã shareeka lahoo wa ash’hadu anna Muhammadan ‘abduhoo wa rasooluh. [I bear witness that there is no god but Allah. He is One, there is no partner with Him; and I bear witness that Muhammad sallalahu alayhi wasallam is His Servant and His Messenger].” She then let out a slight breath, her hands immediately going limp in Alisha’s hands.

  “No! No! Raja!” Alisha cried and rubbed Raja’s hands hard and then gently tried to shake her awake. Raja looked serene and peaceful and had a smile upon her face. But she was now dead.

  Alisha sat rigid feeling totally drained on the side of the bed just holding Raja’s hands. She shook her head several times, blinked and wiped away the tears on her cheeks. In shock she just stared open mouthed at Raja. A sunbeam lit up Raja’s face for several minutes before moving off.

  Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191

  “Oh my Lord!” Sarah said as a tear fell down her cheek.

  All around the table sat in silence looking at the old man, his head bowed low. He placed both his hands upon the sword in front of him on the table and sighed. He seemed to take an age before he again looked up, his hood still shrouding most of his face in darkness.

  “I am sorry…I just needed a minute to compose myself before I continue,” he explained quietly.

  “Did you know this Raja personally, for I sense your pain as you recount this tale,” the Hospitaller knight asked.

  The old man simply nodded.

  “Can I perhaps ask a sensitive question, please?” Simon the fishmonger asked and again quickly looked at Sarah, who was still wiping her face of tears as Stephan walked behind her and gently massaged her shoulders.

  “Of course,” the old man replied.

  “I too suspect that you obviously knew this Raja for your pain is almost palpable… but…well, she was a Muslim, yet why then did those female Hospitallers assist her? Have I missed something?” Simon asked sheepishly whilst keeping one eye on Sarah, expecting a tirade of abuse from her.

  “Clearly you have…for did you not hear me earlier say that we have females within our ranks?” the Hospitaller stated, looking at him hard.

  “Er, yes but why would they assist a Muslim woman?” Simon asked directly.

  “I can answer that…,” the old man responded quickly. “You must understand that the practicalities and realities of life in Outremer are somewhat far more removed and different from what most people who live here know of, or could accept. Besides, Hospitallers vow to serve and help all the sick…regardless of age, race or religion. But know this too. Firgany had many friends in the region. Quite the ambassador really. He in his turn had set an exemplary example of how to cohabit in harmony. He had also on many occasions helped save the lives of more than just one of our Christian Lords and their families. He wielded a massive influence upon leaders on both sides. This I shall explain later, but for now, know that the same respect was afforded and shown to all of his family,” the old man explained.

  “Hmm. I detect there is far more to this tale than just a story about a sword,” Simon replied and sat back rubbing
his chin.

  “Perhaps. But please judge me not. Not until I have finished at least,” the old man stated looking directly at Simon.

  “Oh, ignore Mister Suspicious there and tell us what happened next. What did Alisha do after Raja died?” Sarah asked impatiently as Stephan pulled up a chair and sat just behind her.

  “Well, in the morning the Hospitaller women both came back. They had their Grand Master Roger de Moulins, who had hurriedly returned from his planned trip to Crac de l’Ospital castle, but he was clearly too late. He confirmed Raja had passed on, then, as is the custom for Muslims, they all helped Alisha. She repeated quietly the Kalimah Shahadah…as in the prayer Raja had whispered last as she died. The two female Hospitallers washed Raja giving her a ghusl (bath), as is the Muslim custom, whilst Alisha tried her hardest to recall the proper sequences expected of her. ‘Innã lillãhi wa innã ilayhi rãji’oon.’ [Surely to Allah we belong, and to Him we are to return.] O Allah, help me in my hour of trial and replace it for me with what is better,’ she part cried as she watched Raja being washed. They then very patiently straightened her hands and feet, brought her toes of both feet close together and tied them with a strip of cloth. They then threw a sheet over her body and placed a heavy stone upon her stomach. Alisha was puzzled and asked what they were doing. When they said it was to stop her stomach from inflating, she collapsed in tears again. One of the female Hospitallers informed her they would arrange for the funeral to take place that same afternoon. Before Alisha knew what to do next she found herself sat alone in the room with Raja’s covered body as lobãn and Frankincense burnt in the corner near the window, the scent pushed into the room by the breeze entering. She was not sure what she was supposed to do next. What prayers should she be reciting? Had she done things correctly? Either way, it no longer mattered. ‘Innã lillãhi wa innã ilayhi rãji’oon’ [To Allah we belong and to Him we are to return], she whispered, hoping that prayer would help somehow,” the old man explained, clearly saddened as he recounted the details.

  “My friend…this story clearly saddens you, but, please, I hope you will continue. Both I and my brother had the great privilege of meeting and knowing Roger de Moulins as I think we mentioned before? He was a truly great man. Had very little time or patience for the likes of Gerard and Reynald that was for sure,” the Hospitaller knight interrupted.

  “Yes indeed for he was a great man…a man well ahead of his time in thinking and action. And as it would prove fortuitous, he would also be instrumental in both Alisha’s and Paul’s lives. He had only just been made Grand Master just weeks prior to Raja passing over. His first call of business had been to meet and negotiate with the Templars’ Grand Marshal, a pact, a sort of truce between the two organisations as they had been openly opposed to each other in those days…but that would take a few more years and then only after the Pope directly intervened. But I digress from the story,” the old man explained.

  “What was sewn in Raja’s sleeve?” Simon asked quickly as Sarah gave him a scornful look. He shrugged ‘what?’.

  “I can even show you…,” the old man said as he pulled his cloak aside and pulled out a small leather case from an inside pocket. Gently he placed it down on the table, pulled the strings apart, untying it, and then folded open the leather flaps to reveal several parchment items. He gently removed several until he came to a white linen sheet. As he laid it out, all around the table leaned in to look closer. The linen cloth was small, just five inches long by two inches wide. It had a red cord design along the top and bottom with Alisha’s birth name ‘Aalia’ written out in Arabic, Latin, Greek, English and symbols of ancient Egypt executed in black, blue and gold thread embroidery. Beneath the name the meaning was written in French. Aalia, meaning Exalted, Noble. Several small symbols ran along the bottom.

  “It is beautiful” the wealthy tailor chipped in as he leaned even closer to view it.

  “What does this all stand for then and why such lengths to conceal it from Alisha? I do not understand,” asked the Templar.

  “I shall reveal its import in good time…but I wished to show it as but a little further proof of what I tell you this night,” the old man explained as he turned the small linen strip around so they could all read it properly. The wealthy tailor pointed at a row of symbols that ran along the bottom and gently tapped his finger upon them. “They are secret symbols that help reveal part of a code,” the old man said and pulled the linen strip back towards himself.

  “It raises the question then…how come you now have this in your possession? No, don’t tell me…you will reveal that later,” Simon said sarcastically.

  “You will not know as you will not be here long enough to hear the end if you keep that up,” Sarah shot back instantly. “Tell him, Stephan…”

  Stephan gave him a frown and shook his head disapprovingly.

  “Please do not argue among yourselves…that is not what this is about. Besides, he does ask relevant questions…something that perhaps we should all do…always. Never simply accept as gospel and in blind faith things that are told you as being fact and truth. Not to challenge and not to question is what leads to enslavery of the mind…and ultimately control of your own free will,” the old man said softly and looked at Simon and Sarah in turn. Simon smiled and folded his arms as if in triumph. “But I also caution just who, when and where you challenge as we still live in a climate of fear, mistrust and dogma that many still are afraid to confront,” the old man said reverentially.

  Sarah folded her arms defiantly and looked back at Simon.

  “You mean as in if we challenge what the Church tells us?” the Templar asked.

  “You mean commands us,” the wealthy tailor stated.

  “You mean you caution us against blasphemy, for that is what it is to question the word of the Lord or what the Church tells us, yes?” Gabirol asked.

  “I believe so, yes. But I shall simply ask you this. Do you think an all powerful, all seeing and all knowing omnipotent God, who created us in his own image, would condemn his own creation, his own children to hell fire and eternal damnation simply because you dared to ask questions or sought proofs of what you were being told? Do you honestly think you would hurt his feelings that much? To follow blindly under the false guise and pretence of calling it faith, negates God’s entire purpose for us. Faith is something totally different that has been abused and misused by too many religious bodies in order to control you,” the old man said, not holding his words back.

  “My friend, those are dangerous words you say,” the Hospitaller said quietly.

  “Only dangerous if it falls upon ignorant, ill informed fanatics…and I do not see any here this night,” the old man replied looking at each person in turn. “Sorry. Forgive my lapse. I am guilty of getting upon my high horse so I shall return to the story.”

  “Good…but, please, Simon…can you keep your questions until the end?” Sarah said, looking at Simon with a scowl on her face, her arms folded.

  “I am a sworn Knight…yet many a time I have questioned much that I have learnt and seen. And many a time I have also cursed the Lord himself directly…and I am sure he must have forgiven me. I obviously did not offend or hurt his feelings, for am I not sitting here alive and well this eve?” the Templar explained looking at everyone, his eye catching the maid’s eye. She looked down, embarrassed. He smiled.

  “So come on, pray tell what happened to Alisha after learning all of this and Raja dying?” Peter the stonemason asked.

  The old man sat silently for a few moments. He cleared his throat and pulled his chair nearer the table. “That same afternoon, Raja was buried in a Muslim cemetery just outside the walls of the Keep. Both Nicholas and Baldwin along with the Hospitallers’ Grand Master, Roger, attended the funeral. Roger also informed Alisha he knew her father well and that he was the person who had tended to Paul’s cut upon his face back in La Rochelle. This made Alisha feel reassured in his presence. But it was during the ceremony that Alisha began to reali
se the power her beauty and intellect could solicit. It was a realisation that terrified her.”

  Castle Blanc, County of Tripoli in the Levant, 1178

  Alisha stood dressed in her pale bluish green dress. It was the one Paul said suited her the best but the lacings up the side felt like they had been pulled in too tight and she felt as though she was suffocating. But she wore it regardless as she felt it more befitting for the occasion. It was hot and she felt uncomfortable. Despite being late afternoon, the sun was still beating down a fierce heat. The nearby lemon trees offered some shade but there was no breeze, the air heavy and still. She watched as Raja’s wrapped body was lowered into a grave by two Templars. Nicholas stood next to Alisha watching her closely as she swayed. He was concerned she may faint. Baldwin stood behind them alongside Roger.

  Alisha fought to control her emotions. She could feel the tears well in her eyes, especially so when she thought of the pain this would cause her father and Philip. In her hand she clutched the small linen cloth strip she had managed to remove from Raja’s robe sleeve. A thousand questions were running through her head and she wasn’t really listening to anything that was being said by anyone. She watched in a mesmerised silence not even aware of the passing full strength squadron of Templars that was filing by on horseback. As dust started to fill the air, she started to cough just as Roger turned to face the contingent.

  “Gentlemen…brother knights…show some respect and dismount and pass quietly!” Roger said loudly.

  The procession of knights, turcopoles and sergeants with squires kept on passing by, all clearly filthy, hot and tired. Some looked over quizzically. Alisha turned to look at all the horses, several carts and many knights both mounted and on foot trudge past staring at her. Alisha felt the anger rise inside her as if the whole funeral was being invaded somehow with a show of total disrespect. She started to shake.