The Rightful Heir

by Diana Dickinson

  “Not to mention the Queen herself.”

  “Hush,” said Raoul. “You’ll shock the boy!” Guillaume gave a shy grin. “In any case, I wouldn’t even think of it!”

  His friends snorted in derision.

  While he might have enjoyed favours from several of Eleanor’s women, Raoul rapidly came to the conclusion that it was wiser to keep them all at a discreet distance. The beauties amongst them were assiduously courted by the younger knights, and even the older ladies had their favourites. He had no wish to make enemies amongst the Queen’s entourage and he could easily have done so.

  To avoid jealousy, Raoul quite honestly proclaimed that it was only Eleanor whom he admired and adored. She clearly found his fervent declarations amusing and demanded his constant attendance. She was much too wise ever to be alone with him and in public never did more than pat him on the cheek or give him her hand to kiss. Raoul would say he was enraptured by these attentions and he took to composing extravagant ballads on the subject of her beauty. These he sang soulfully to the Queen and her ladies in the evenings, much to everyone’s amusement. No-one took his words seriously and he became almost a court jester, a role that had its uses, even if Gustave and Pierre made ribald comments at his expense. With the increasing hardship of their journey, any form of entertainment was a relief from hunger, cold and weariness.

  One consequence of his closeness to the Queen meant that Raoul could tell her about Nur Ed-Din being in control of Antioch. She listened to him gravely but in the end said that there was nothing she could do.

  “Even if I tell the King, he will not believe me. He is sure that Raymond will be there ready to welcome him with open arms. How would I suddenly have acquired this new information?”

  “From the Saracens who attacked you, perhaps?”

  “Raoul, it would take Nur Ed-Din himself riding into our camp to dissuade Louis from his present course. Had the Emperor told him or someone in Nicaea...”

  “I assure you, your Majesty, what I am telling you is true.”

  “I don’t doubt you, Raoul. But we will just have to wait until he finds out for himself.”

  “That could be extremely dangerous.”

  “Indeed it could. So sing us another song, dear boy, and let us pass the time pleasantly before our heads are sliced off!”

  Everyone suffered as the weeks passed. Christmas came and went, virtually uncelebrated. 1148 began cold and wet and food was extremely scarce. The women shivered in their litters and many openly regretted that they had chosen to come. Only Queen Eleanor’s spirits remained undaunted, whatever difficulties they encountered. Raoul decided that the King was too unworldly even to notice. He was certainly unmoved by the barrage of complaints brought by his commanders whenever they met. His solution was to suspend their meetings and to command the chaplain to say a nightly mass in the King’s lodge instead.

  Along with physical discomforts, the army’s mood was further dampened by an all too frequent reminders of their mortality. At various stages along the road, they found the dead bodies of pilgrims and it was unclear whether they had been deliberately killed or had simply died from the cold and starvation. At first, Louis had insisted that each must be given a Christian burial but when the numbers increased, they were merely moved to the wayside and roughly covered with loose stones – a measure which barely deterred scavengers until the army had passed.

  Eventually, desperation over provisions prompted the Duke of Laval to demand that the army must be split into two. Half would turn inland and circle round to the north, hunting for game in the hills and travelling at greater speed. The Royal household, the baggage mules and the majority of the foot-soldiers would continue on their present coastal route. They would meet up again in Antioch. Reluctantly the King agreed. The Count of Tréguier, Bertrand de Courcy and the Breton knights rode out with Laval’s force the following morning.

  Three days later, as they crossed a broad level plain to the north-west of Antioch, the King’s force was attacked. The Saracen archers rode down on them at breakneck speed, loosing their arrows with devastating effect. The air was full of the cries of wounded horses and screaming women. Hastily, the Crusaders adopted a defensive formation, with those on foot left to guard the women and the baggage.

  It was late afternoon and the sky was filled with dark, heavy clouds. Once the knights had desperately driven back the first enemy assault, and charged in turn with lance and spear, it had become almost too dark to see. The Turks withdrew, intending, it was believed, to continue the attack at first light. Despite the inconvenience of having to defend the women, the commanders were optimistic. It was felt that they had a good chance of victory and they enthusiastically began to debate appropriate strategies. To their astonishment, the King vehemently vetoed them all.

  “It is impossible,” he declared. “Antioch must have fallen! Our enemies are upon us! Our only hope of escaping with our lives is to ride out at once!”

  “What, in the dark?”

  “What of the ladies? The litters are too slow.”

  “Leave the litters, leave the baggage. The women will have to mount up behind their squires.”

  “What about the wounded and the troopers?”

  “And many of the horses are injured!”

  “Any who cannot ride must do the best they can,” Louis declared impatiently. “God will protect them. We shall sail to Jerusalem from Attalia. Now mount up and ride!”

  Although she said nothing, Raoul sensed Queen Eleanor’s anger and disgust that night. She chose to ride with him, as usual making light of a desperate situation. Inevitably, horses stumbled and fell in the darkness because of the headlong pace set by the King and the foot-soldiers were soon left far behind to fend for themselves as best they could. Raoul was pleased that Hercules, as always, was sure footed and seemingly immune to fatigue.

  When the next day dawned, they had little water and no food. There was no alternative but to press relentlessly on. When they eventually reached the port of Attalia, there were too few ships there even to take the Crusaders that now remained. Louis declared that only knights and members of his own and the most noble households could embark. Again, those who were left behind must make their own way to Jerusalem by whatever means they could. Through Eleanor’s insistence, Raoul was permitted to sail with them; Pierre and Gustave were not. Raoul pressed some of Kareem’s gold on them and reluctantly, because of their desperate situation, they took it. Their comments about the King, when the friends took leave of each other, were little short of treason.

  After a rough voyage on a crude, uncomfortable vessel, they finally landed at Saint Symeon. Raymond, Count of Antioch met them there and escorted them with ceremony into the city of Jerusalem. They were then welcomed by King Baldwin and his mother Queen Melisende and Louis’s household was given quarters in the palace.

  It was hard, at first, for Raoul to believe that they had finally reached their destination. The city was huge with stout stone walls and a population drawn from many races although most of the Muslims had fled north after the city was conquered. It seemed extraordinary to be actually living in a place which he had only heard of previously from Bible readings. What seemed stranger was that life here was organised in precisely the same way as it was back in France. Even the local Turkopole troops claimed to have Norman fathers and French was the language universally spoken.

  As on their journey south, Eleanor insisted on playing an active part in planning the new Crusade. As she was never without her carefully chosen entourage, she requested that Raoul, along with two or three others, should accompany her when she met with the leaders. He was thus able to learn a great deal about the distribution of power in the Holy Land.

  Because of King Baldwin’s youth, the real ruler of the Christian kingdom was Queen Melisende. After her, there were four others of great importance: the Lords of Galillee, Jaffa, Sidon and Oultrejourdain. There were then twelve secondary barons, of whom Raymond of Antioch was one. Having lost
control of his city, he was clearly regarded as of limited importance. Raymond claimed that it was treachery on the part of the Byzantine Emperor rather than skill on the part of the Infidel which had robbed him of Antioch. He tried therefore to persuade Melisende and Louis that its restoration to him should be their primary objective. They refused, considering Aleppo, Nur Ed-Din’s northern stronghold, a much more attractive prospect.

  Baulked of political power, Raymond consoled himself by flirting with the French Queen. Although supposedly her uncle, his behaviour towards her was anything but avuncular and, still outraged by the cowardly behaviour of her husband, she seemed to welcome his attentions. Compared with Louis, Raymond was a bold-eyed, handsome man, considerably younger than the Queen. Raoul didn’t blame her for her apparent preference even though he pretended to be desperately jealous. Eleanor laughed and teased him, promising to find him a wealthy heiress and a barony in consolation.

  “I cannot look at anyone but you, my lady,” he protested, “and as for a barony, by right though not possession, I have one already. I need no other.”

  Intrigued, Eleanor asked him to explain but he refused, angry with himself for already saying too much. The Court in Jerusalem was a hot-bed of gossip, rumour and intrigue, he had found, and he had no wish to be the subject of it.

  Eventually, it was agreed that Aleppo was definitely to be the Crusaders’ first target. As soon as the Duke of Laval had arrived, a small force was assembled to make a preliminary reconnoitre. Pierre and Gustave had also managed to get to Jerusalem by now, though not without difficulty, and they were pleased to be included. Raoul found it hard that he was required to stay behind to wait on the Queen. She too, he realised, would have relished the excitement if she could have worn armour and fought like a man. He composed a ballad entitled “Hyppolita, the Warrior Queen” and sang it in her honour.

  A few days after Louis had led his army north, Raoul, Philippe de Montauban and a few others of Eleanor’s favoured knights were sitting in the pleasure-gardens of Melisende’s palace. It was a bright spring day and Eleanor and her ladies were entertaining the Count of Antioch and some of his retinue.

  “Ah, my dear, were we in my own city now I could shower you with exotic luxuries,” Raymond was saying.

  He sat beside her on a marble seat, peeling fruit with his dagger and offering her succulent morsels.

  “Is it utterly impossible for you to wrest Antioch from the Turks’ grasp?” Eleanor’s tone was provocative. “Have they so strong a hold on it?”

  “Truly, Eleanor, I do not know,” the Prince said testily. He flung the rest of the fruit to the ground where it was snatched up by his elegant white hound. “I was engaged in a skirmish further east when the city fell. I returned and found my gates barred against me. Without sufficient forces to mount a siege, all I could do was to request your help – and that was not forthcoming.”

  “Were it up to me,” Eleanor said, laying her hand consolingly on his arm, “we would re-take it tomorrow.”

  “With one glance from your beautiful eyes, fair Hyppolita, you’d conquer the enemy instantly!” Raoul said.

  “Silly boy!”

  Eleanor laughed and held out her hand to him. Raoul kissed it and sat on the grass by her feet. When Raymond then leaned over and whispered in her ear, she blushed and sprang up, taking a few steps away from them over the velvet lawn.

  “I know!” she said after a moment, “you and I, Raymond, will disguise ourselves as humble travellers and enter your city incognito. We can then find out the strength of their forces and open the gates for your men.”

  “No-one would mistake you for a peasant, my lady,” said the Countess of Beaumaris. “At least not in that gown.”

  “True, Isabelle, true. And I think I should hate to wear homespun.”

  “Your beauty would make even homespun shine like cloth of gold,” Raoul said instantly.

  There was a general appreciative laugh.

  “Seriously, Raymond,” said Eleanor, cuffing Raoul playfully as she resumed her seat, “do you really not know the strength of the enemy forces in Antioch?”

  “Really, my dear, I do not and I can see no way to find out.”

  “Are there not spies who could pass for Muslims?”

  “Aye, any number. But I wouldn’t trust a word they said. I must simply be patient and devote myself to your happiness until your husband returns to aid me.”

  “What a convenient excuse for idleness,” Eleanor murmured.

  “If you want to know what’s happening in Antioch, I could find out for you.”

  Abandoning his air of courtly languor, Raoul had risen eagerly to his feet.

  “Raoul, don’t be absurd. How could you?” Eleanor said with a frown.

  Briefly he told them about the attack on the girl, his subsequent stay with Kareem’s family in Byzantium and Shahin Miah’s invitation to visit him.

  “You appear to make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress,” the Queen said dryly. “And do you extract the same reward from each one?”

  Raoul felt himself blush at the memory of Kamala. Eleanor laughed knowingly.

  “Are you serious, young man?” asked Raymond.

  “Never more so, my lord. I speak a few words of their language and I even have Arabic clothes I can wear. If you can provide me with servants and a suitable escort, I will go gladly.”

  “This is immensely good luck, Eleanor,” the prince exclaimed in delight.

  “For you, Raymond, perhaps. I must lose my most charming and adoring young courtier. Very well, Raoul, I grant you one month’s leave. But I warn you, I shall seek devotion elsewhere in your absence.”

  “I’ll gladly offer that to you, my dear,” Raymond murmured, taking her hand.

  Raoul tried not to appear too eager as he bowed to Eleanor and left the garden.

  Two days later he set out from Jerusalem. He travelled with a merchant and his well-guarded camel-train and had been given Arabic speaking servants to accompany him. To prevent his lack of fluency from being discovered, he claimed to be suffering from an inflammation of the throat, merely croaking individual words in answer to any query. It was thus entirely plausible when they reached the gates of Antioch that others should speak for him, explaining who he was and asking the way to the house of Miah. Once there, Shahin greeted him with surprise and delight.

  A month passed all too quickly. It was easy to see that Antioch was heavily garrisoned and would indeed require a full scale siege to recapture it. Once he had realised that, Raoul thought no more about it or about Prince Raymond.

  Kamala’s wedding, he learned, had passed off smoothly and her letters to her family were happy ones. Recently they had heard that she was expecting a child. Shahin never mentioned his sister’s attempt to seduce Raoul and he, in turn, was relieved to hear such good news of her – even if he did feel slightly piqued to be so easily forgotten.

  As before, he relished being part of a cultured and civilized household. He had access again to an excellent collection of books and pamphlets and now he had time to learn to decipher the flowing, decorative Arabic script. He eagerly studied the language, becoming quite expert from constant practice. He went out hawking with Shahin but although he admired the powerful falcons which they flew, he found himself wistfully remembering Gwen and wondering what had become of her. He also took instruction in the use of the curved Saracen sword, aware, even as he did so of the oddness of his position: a Crusader in an Islamic household. He and Shahin had come to a tacit agreement never to discuss the subject. For the present they were brothers. It was enough.

  Miah’s house was not run according to strict Muslim rule, however. Shahin’s father had supposedly reconverted to Islam but in fact he cared far more about profit than about the worship of any god. His wife, her sister, Shahin’s cousins and their female attendants sat with the men at table and moved freely about the house. Raoul was surprised to discover that elsewhere women were shut away in strict segregation. In the city th
ey were seen only rarely and then were almost totally concealed by an all-enveloping garment called a chadar and a thick veil. Occasionally palanquins were drawn or carried through the streets. Shahin explained that should a man dare to look through the heavy curtains at the noble lady within, the punishment was instant death –for them both. As Shahin had promised, Raoul was given the chance to compare the charms of the girls in Antioch with the one in Kareem’s household, though it shocked him a little when he realised that his various bed-partners were owned by the family as slaves.

  It was a time of enormous sensual pleasure for Raoul. There was delicious food and wine, mysterious and haunting music, exotic and a seductive perfumes and a succession of beautiful and inventive girls. Coupled with the immense satisfaction of stimulating intellectual company and rigorous exercise, time flew by. The month had become six weeks almost before he noticed.

  Eventually, Raoul realised that he must go. Queen Eleanor would either be angry or have forgotten him completely and either alternative could be equally damaging to his prospects, whatever they might be. Of course he still remembered Meg’s prophecy that an early death would blight his hopes. But since he had heard Saint Bernard’s speech in Vezelay he had determinedly put it from his mind. Now, with great reluctance he told Shahin that it was time for him to leave. A final sumptuous feast was held at which the best dancers in Antioch performed in his honour. Fawzia, his favourite girl, shared his bed on the last night. The next day he set out for Jerusalem, again travelling with a merchant and his train. This time there was no need for him to feign illness to avoid speech. His Arabic was almost perfect.

  When he reached Jerusalem, little had changed apart from the weather. As summer approached, the pleasant mild days had been replaced by blazing heat. The Crusader army had not returned yet from the north. King Baldwin had caught a fever and had taken to his bed leaving his mother in sole charge. The Count of Toulouse was claiming to everyone who would listen that he had been robbed of the barony of Tripoli by his half-brother. People generally felt that he should say less and do more. The best piece of scandal was the torrid affair between Queen Eleanor of France and Raymond of Antioch. The bishop was muttering darkly about incest and excommunication but as no-one had proof, nothing was done. All this he learned from Guillaume, his squire, as he changed his Arab robes for clothes more suited to a Norman knight.