by Jean Plaidy
His first impulse was to heap additional humiliations on him but the manner in which Gilbert conducted himself defeated him. Amurath was a lover of beauty of any kind and because of Gilbert’s exceptional appearance he did not wish to maim it in any way. For a period he kept him chained in a dungeon and attempted to forget him. Gilbert’s dignity had its effect on his jailers and he became friendly with them, learning their language, and because of his determination he did this quickly.
One day the Emir was looking for amusement and suddenly remembered the Christian slave. He doubted he was as handsome and indifferent now as he had been on his arrival. He sent for him.
To his amazement Gilbert could speak his language and the Emir was impressed when he heard that he had learned it from his jailers. Gilbert hastened to explain that his jailers had done nothing but their duty but he had always been quick to pick up the language of those about him and this was what had happened.
The Emir, in spite of his cruelty, was a man of some culture, and did not care how Gilbert had learned to converse in his language. All he cared was that he could. He asked a good many questions as to what his life was like in London and he was interested too in the doctrines of the Christian faith.
So entertained had Amurath been that the next day he sent for Gilbert once more and questioned him at greater length about the manners and customs of the Western world.
Gilbert was delighted to be released from his prison for these conversational exercises which were becoming a habit, and as the Emir was fastidious in his tastes he ordered that Gilbert should bathe and be given fresh robes. This was done, and now it seemed that they met as equals. A friendship was springing up between them and the Emir decided that he would prefer Gilbert not to be taken back to his cell but to be given quarters in his palace.
Gilbert then began to live the life of a Saracen nobleman. He still however felt himself to be a prisoner and never far from his mind was the thought of escape. In his new position he came into contact with other Christians of his party who now worked as slaves in the palace. Many of them were chained about their ankles just long enough to enable them to walk but not enough length to allow them to go far. Others had halters about their necks. The one thought that was in their minds was escape. And Gilbert, in spite of his favoured position, never forgot them and was in constant communication with them in the hope of forming some plan for their release.
The fact that he was so favoured was beneficial to them all, for Gilbert could discover a great deal about the geography of the palace and the most likely means of exit should the opportunity arise.
Moreover the Emir now and then took Gilbert out with him and they would ride side by side, surrounded by a guard, and so Gilbert learned a good deal about the country.
His fellow Christians knew that he was too religious a man to desert them. His recent absolution at the tomb had cleansed him of all sin, and he would not want to incur another even if it were his nature to do so, which they were sure it was not. He joined his fellows often in prayer and the great theme of those prayers, as must be the case with all prisoners, was that Divine guidance would lead them to escape.
As the weeks passed the Emir’s interest in his captive did not wane. The more fluent Gilbert became the more profound were the discussions, and one day as reward for such lively entertainments the Emir invited Gilbert to dine at his table.
This was to have a momentous effect on Gilbert’s life because at the table were members of the Emir’s family and among them his young daughter.
The girl was very beautiful; above her yashmak her enormous eyes studied Gilbert. He was different from any man she had ever seen. His fair skin fascinated her; his proud Norman bearing impressed her deeply. She had never seen anyone like him. She curbed her excitement for she knew that it would never do for her father to see it. What would happen she could not imagine - except that it could be disastrous for her and for Gilbert. She listened to his voice which was different from others as was everything else about, him; and when the meal was over and the Christian and her father went away to sit and talk as the Emir loved to do, she retired to her apartments which she shared with the other women of the household and could think of nothing but the handsome Christian.
The Emir now made a habit of inviting Gilbert to his table and often his daughter was present. She was now in love with the strange captive, and she was certain that she would never know any happiness without him.
What could she do? She could not tell her father. She had lived the life of a girl of her people which meant that her life had been sheltered. Very soon a husband would be found for her and she would be given to him whether she liked it or not. She was a girl of great determination and she decided that she must learn more of this Christian faith for which these men of the Western world had left their comfortable homes and risked so much. She knew that Gilbert came from a place called London where he had a fine house. He had described it to her father in her presence. Yet he had left it to risk his life and perhaps face torture - for Gilbert had been singularly fortunate in falling into the hands of an enlightened man like Amurath - and all for the Christian faith.
Gilbert often went to pray in a small secluded chamber which the Emir had given him for that purpose; because he had become interested in the Christian religion through their discussions, he had no desire to put any impediment in the way of Gilbert’s continuing to worship as he did at home.
Thus Gilbert was allowed an hour’s seclusion where he might commune with God.
To his surprise when he entered one day he saw that the rich arras which hung from the wall moved slightly and from behind it emerged the Emir’s daughter.
Gilbert was amazed.
‘I did not know any was here,’ said Gilbert. ‘I will go at once.’
She shook her head. ‘Stay,’ she begged.
‘It would not be permitted,’ said Gilbert preparing to depart.
Then she answered: ‘I would learn more of the Christian faith.’
Gilbert looked at this beautiful girl and wanted to save her soul for Christianity.
‘What would you know of my faith?’ he asked.
‘I would know why your face shines when you speak of your God. I would know why you have no fear of my father, why you talk with him and disagree with him as any other of his servants would not dare.’
‘I trust in my God,’ he answered. ‘If it is His will He will protect me. If my time has come I shall go to eternal salvation. That is why I have no fear.’
‘Tell me of eternal salvation.’
He told her as it had been taught to him as a child.
‘Could I become a Christian?’ she asked.
‘You could by believing.’
‘I could believe,’ she said.
‘You will need instruction.’
‘You will instruct me?’
He looked round the apartment. ‘Your father would kill me if he found you here with me.’
‘But you are afraid.’
‘No, I am not afraid. Something tells me that it is God’s will that I shall save your soul for him.’
‘When you come to pray I shall be here,’ she said. ‘You will instruct me.’
‘Then so be it.’
They knelt together and he taught her to pray.
And that was a beginning.
Each day when he came to the chamber she was there; she was progressing with her study of his religion. He told her that she must have a Christian name and she was delighted. He called her Mahault, a version of Matilda.
‘That was the name of the wife of the greatest Norman who conquered England and brought a prosperity to both that land and to the Normans like myself who now inhabit it,’ he told her.
She was delighted with her new name. She lived for her meetings with Gilbert. She was a fervent Christian. She took wholeheartedly to the doctrine of loving one’s neighbour. Love was better than war. She could see that. People suffered continually for war and as a woman whos
e great joy in life would be her husband and children, how could she wish to lose them or see them suffer in that senseless preoccupation.
Indeed she was a fervent Christian.
Often Gilbert wondered what his fate would be if the Emir discovered that he had made his daughter into a Christian.
She would ply him with questions. ‘Christ died on the cross for you, would you die on the cross for him?’
He answered clearly: ‘I am ready to die for God.’
‘It is true,’ she said wonderingly, ‘for if my father knew that we had been together thus, he might devise a horrible death for you which is even more terrible than the crucifixion. Yet you have instructed me. You have made a Christian of me.’
‘I have brought you to the light, Mahault,’ he answered. ‘And if God wills that the fate which befell His only begotten Son should overtake me, then I trust I shall meet it with fortitude.’
In worshipping Gilbert’s God the Emir’s daughter had come to worship Gilbert also.
She said one day: ‘The Christian slaves plan to escape. I know it.’
‘You cannot understand their tongue,’ replied Gilbert.
‘No. But I see it in their eyes. They make their plans. They will attempt to go.’
‘Do you think they will succeed?’
‘If they do not, I tremble for them. Nevertheless they will attempt it.’ She was fearful suddenly. ‘Gilbert, what of you? If they should try, would you go with them?’
‘They are my people,’ he answered.
‘If you should go, I would wish to go with you,’ she said.
‘How could you do that, Mahault?’
‘If the slaves could escape, so could I.’
‘Nay. You are your father’s daughter. This is your home.’
‘I am a Christian now. My home is across the seas in your London.’
‘Nay,’ he said. ‘Nay, that would never do.’
‘You could take me with you when you go away.’
‘How so?’
‘You could marry me. I could be a good Christian and mother to your sons.’
‘That is not possible. You must not think of such matters.’
‘I cannot help my thoughts. The slaves are planning to escape. You will go with them and, Gilbert, I want to come too.’
‘You could never do it.’
‘Then when you go … must we say goodbye?’
‘If I were to go, we must indeed.’
‘I never would,’ she said firmly. ‘I will come with you. When the slaves band together and go away from here … or try to…. you will go with them, for you think much of your native land and your home is in London. Gilbert, you cannot leave me here because if you did I should die. I could not live without you. You have saved my soul and you must take me with you.’
He shook his head but she would not listen to his protests and he said no more of the matter.
There came a time when the long-formed plans were to be put into effect. Gilbert could arrange for horses to be waiting for them in the stables for several of the Christians were working there. They could cut their chains, and together discard their halters and get away … with Gilbert’s help.
It was dangerous and Gilbert knew that if the attempt failed this would be an end of his pleasant relationship with the Emir. Dire and terrible torments would await them all. But so great was their longing for their native land that there was not a man among them who did not wish to make the attempt.
When he was with Mahault in his sanctuary, Gilbert was tempted to tell her of the plan for she could be of great use to them, but he hesitated. For himself he would have trusted her, but he had the lives of others to consider. He said nothing.
The appointed night came. In the stables the horses were saddled and ready. Gilbert had secreted implements there by which fetters could be cut. None was suspicious, and everything worked so smoothly and according to their plan that Gilbert was certain that God was with them.
Before their escape had been discovered they were miles from the Emir’s palace and had reached a part of the country which was occupied by Christians. They joined with them and were able to proceed on the journey back to England.
When she heard that Gilbert had escaped with the other prisoners, Mahault was overcome with grief. True he had never promised to take her with him, but he had certainly cared for her. Had he not risked death and even more than death to save her soul? Had her father given his permission they would have married. But her father would never have consented to his daughter’s marrying a Christian. How could he?
But she was a Christian, a fervent Christian, and she vowed she would never be anything else. But now she had lost Gilbert and there was nothing in life she wanted but him.
She longed for death, for that paradise which Gilbert had promised her. It was all that she could hope for.
So ill did she become that the Emir could not understand what ailed her. He was angry with the Christians who had escaped. He missed his discussions with Gilbert. Life had become dull without that man. He plunged into an orgy of pleasure, living the sort of life he had lived before the coming of Gilbert, but he found nothing could give him the same pleasure as he had enjoyed in his discussions with the Christian.
As she lay in her bed, an idea came to Mahault.
Gilbert had escaped. Why should not she? She had listened to his talk at table when he had given a graphic account of the journey he had made from London to the Holy Land. If he could make a journey to her country, why should she not do so to his?
As soon as this idea came to her, her health began to improve. She would lie in bed waiting for the return of her strength while she made her plans. She knew that what she was about to do was hazardous in the extreme; it was a task which no other Saracen girl had ever undertaken. But if she died in the attempt it would be no worse than waiting here in her father’s palace until she pined away for lack of any wish to live.
‘Faith can work miracles.’ That had been one of the doctrines of Gilbert’s God who was now hers. Why should not faith work a miracle for her?
She grew well quickly; it was amazing what her faith and her belief in the certainty that she would find Gilbert did for her; and there came the day when she was ready.
She had sewn precious jewels into the humblest garments she could find, for it was not difficult to get these from her servants, and one day she walked out of her father’s palace.
The road was not often frequented between the borders of her father’s territory and that which was occupied by Christians and taking greatest care to hide herself when any pilgrims did pass, in due course she reached the borders of the Christian country.
Good fortune favoured her for as she was crossing those borders she saw a group of people, and something told her from their looks and manners that they were Gilbert’s countrymen and women.
She approached them and again she was lucky for one of them spoke her tongue. She told them the truth. She had become a Christian; she wished to escape to England where she could live according to her faith. But how could she get there?
‘You could take ship,’ she was told.
‘How could I do this?’
‘Ships leave now and then,’ was the answer. ‘We ourselves are awaiting one.’
‘I could pay for my passage,’ she told them.
They considered her. Her great determination to succeed shone from her eyes; she begged them to help her. She must go to London, she said, for there lived a man she must find.
At length they agreed to take her. Her passage would be paid for with a sapphire of great beauty and in the meantime she might join their party.
She was not surprised at such amazing luck. She believed that as she had asked for a miracle God would answer her prayers, and it was only natural that her way should be made easy.
The journey was eventful as such journeys invariably were. They narrowly escaped being taken by pirates - which might well have resulted in her being sold into slavery
to her own father - and then there was a mighty storm which almost wrecked the ship.
She believed that her shining faith brought her safely through, and very soon they landed at Dover.
She knew two words in English: London and Gilbert. The first was of great use because it told everyone where she wanted to go.
She walked from the coast to the city, asking her way with the one word London and finally she was rewarded by her glimpse of London.
She would have been bewildered by the great city if she had not been certain that she was nearing the end of her quest. There was clamour such as she had never seen. In the streets were the market stalls, with goods of all variety displayed to the eyes. Everything that could be imagined was on sale there - bread, meat, clothing, milk, butter and cheeses, usually each with its separate neighbourhood. Milk and butter and cheeses were obtainable in Milk Street, and meat was for sale in Saint Martin le Grand near Saint Paul’s Cross. There was Bread Street where the smell of fresh baked bread filled the air. Goldsmiths and silversmiths, clothiers and grocers, they all had their places in these lively streets.
At this time some forty thousand people lived in the city and its environs. People were attracted to the city because of its immense activities and the gayer lives that could be enjoyed there compared with the quiet of the country. There were many churches, built by the Normans, and the sound of bells was a constant one. It was a bustling, teeming city situated on a river full of craft plying their way up and down; and the stream of the Walbrook divided the East Cheap from the West.
Everywhere were beggars - some pitiful to behold - and into these streets came the Emir’s daughter, certain because of her faith in the Christian God that she would be led to find Gilbert.
She went through the streets calling Gilbert and many took pity on her and gave her a night’s shelter; and each day she was sure that she would find the man she had come to seek.