God's Warrior

by Hilary Green

  When he had gone, and Dino had been taken to the kitchen to prepare the poultice, Marc poured a goblet of water and seated himself beside the bed.

  ‘Now, you will drink this, please. Whatever guilt you feel about the deaths you may have caused, you will not expiate it by adding your own.’ Ranulph looked at the goblet. The water was fresh from the well and the outside of the cup was dewed with moisture. Suddenly he was aware of the raging thirst he had been ignoring for hours. ‘Moreover,’ Marc continued, ‘I will not drink until you do. You will not want my death on your conscience as well.’

  Ranulph stared at him, wondering if it was an idle threat, the sort of ploy that might be used to persuade a child to obey; but Marc’s gaze was steady and without guile and Ranulph knew him well enough to believe that he would stick to his word. For a moment they held each other’s eyes, then Ranulph reached out and took the cup.

  A boy arrived soon after with the promised medicament and Ranulph swallowed it without protest and allowed Dino to apply the poultice to his wound and rebandage it.

  ‘Sleep now,’ Marc said. ‘Dino will watch with you until midnight and then I will take his place. In the morning you will feel stronger.’

  In spite of the medicine Ranulph’s sleep was restless. Every time he began to doze, vivid images flashed behind his eyelids. On his wild ride through the city streets he had been too preoccupied to register what he was seeing, but now his memory replayed it in sickening detail. Women with children in their arms struck aside and trampled as the raging horde swept through; old men valiantly trying to bar entry to their houses and shops, skewered with swords; desperate battles between attackers and defenders that left severed limbs on the ground and the streets slick with blood. As he sank deeper into sleep these images became mixed with older ones, and the bodies he had seen became the tortured figures of the damned in the fresco of the Last Judgement, which had adorned the chancel arch in the abbey church at Chester; pictures that had haunted his nightmares as a child. Among them rode a figure he recognised as himself, mounted on the pale horse whose name is death.

  At some point he became aware of a weight resting against his knee. Opening his eyes he saw by the light of the moon, which shone through the uncurtained window, that Dino had folded his arms on the edge of the bed, laid his head upon them and fallen asleep. Comforted by the closeness of a living being, he slept more soundly for the rest of the night and did not stir when Marc came to take over the watch. He woke as the sun rose and knew instinctively that whatever depth of despair his spirit had plumbed, his body had decided to heal itself.

  Dino came soon with water and wine and another bowl of gruel and Ranulph ate and drank without protest. For the first time he allowed himself to admit to hunger and half way through the gruel he looked at Dino and said, ‘Is this the best you can do? I am not a babe to be fed on slops.’

  The boy’s face creased with distress. ‘Forgive me, sir. There is nothing else. The people of the city are in worse case than we were ourselves when we were outside the walls. Many have already died from starvation.’

  ‘Then the whole household is subsisting on gruel like this?’ Ranulph asked.

  Dino lowered his gaze and Ranulph read in his face what he would not put into words. ‘Or on less than this? Have you eaten today?’

  The boy blushed. ‘I ate the food you rejected last night. I should not have done.’

  Ranulph held out the half-empty bowl. ‘Take this – and don’t argue. If you will not eat it I shall empty it on the floor.’

  Dino’s protest was cut short by the entrance of Marc.

  ‘Kerbogha has arrived.’

  Ranulph started up and swung his legs off the bed but, when he tried to stand, the pain of his wound forced him back.

  ‘Be still,’ Marc said. ‘Trying to walk too soon will only open up the wound. If you rest as the doctor told you to, you will be back on your feet very soon. Already you look stronger than you did yesterday.’ He looked at Dino. ‘Has he eaten?’

  ‘Yes!’ Ranulph said quickly, before the boy could answer.

  ‘And have you taken the draught the doctor sent? He said it was to be taken twice a day.’

  ‘I have it here, ready,’ Dino said, proffering a cup.

  Marc took it and sniffed at the contents.’What is this oxymel he has prescribed?’

  ‘A mixture of honey and vinegar, boiled together,’ Ranulph said. ‘It is believed to be efficacious in balancing the humours. And myrrh is a stimulant and excites the appetite.’ He looked at his friend and registered for the first time that he had a long cut on his arm.

  ‘You should get Aymar to tend to that wound. Tell him to use some of the yarrow poultice the doctor recommended. Dino will show him how to do it.’

  ‘Aymar?’ Marc’s head jerked up as if surprised and he looked round to catch Dino’s eye. Ranulph saw him swallow. ‘Aymar is dead. I refused to let him follow me when we scaled the walls but he was determined to fight. He came in with Bohemond and the rest when the gates were opened. He was probably looking for me, but I had followed you, trying to catch up with Bohemond. They found his body last night, just a few paces inside the gate. He must have been struck down almost at once.’

  Ranulph reached out to grip his hand. ‘My dear friend, I am so sorry! He was a brave young gentleman and devoted to you.’

  ‘As I was to him. I should have given in to his pleas and kept him with me.’

  Dino said abruptly, ‘With your leave, I will make the poultice and dress the wound. I shall be back in a few minutes.’

  He hurried out of the room and Marc said, ‘He has taken it hard. They were good friends in spite of their different backgrounds.’

  Ranulph sighed. ‘It is a loss to all of us. But we must console ourselves with the thought that Aymar has been received into the glorious company of martyrs, as we are promised all those will be who die in the holy cause.’

  Marc nodded. ‘I pray it is so.’

  For a few moments they were silent. Then Ranulph said, ‘So we, the besiegers, are now the besieged.’

  ‘Indeed so.’

  ‘And Dino tells me there is scarcely any food in the city.’

  ‘That is true, too.’

  ‘So unless we can raise the siege we are doomed.’

  ‘Short of a miracle, yes.’

  They were silent again. Marc broke it with a deliberate attempt at cheer. ‘There is one piece of good news. Yaghi Siyhan was captured by a local peasant as he tried to fly and decapitated with his own sword. The peasant brought his head to Bohemond in a sack just before Kerbogha closed the roads.’

  ‘A fate he justly deserved, by all accounts,’ Ranulph commented.

  After a pause Marc said, ‘Explain something to me. What is there between you and Mariam? I partly guess that you were lovers once. What happened?’

  Ranulph hesitated, gathering his thoughts. ‘It was many years ago now. I came here as a merchant, to buy silk, and Dmitri, the father of Firouz and Mariam, gave me hospitality. Firouz and I became friends, and Mariam and I fell in love. Sadly, her father had already promised her to Hamid bin Ismael. Although he was a Turk and a Moslem, it was an advantageous match since it brought together two of the leading houses in the silk trade. Mariam begged her father to retract his promise and let us marry, but Dimitri was unwilling to see her married to a foreigner who would take her away with him to a distant land. It was understandable, I suppose. And he worried that my love for her might be a passing thing, which I might regret when I got back to my own people. But he was a good man, who loved his children. In the end, he agreed to delay the match with bin Ismael and that if we felt the same when I returned the following summer we could marry. I swore to Mariam that in a year I would come to claim her as my bride.’ Ranulph raised his eyes to Marc’s face. ‘It was on the voyage back to Amalfi that I was captured by the corsairs, and so I was forsworn and she was forced into a marriage she hated.’

  ‘And you have loved no other woman since?
’

  ‘No.’

  Marc leaned towards him. ‘But now the Turk is dead. You know that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then surely this is the opportunity you have waited for all these years. Let me bring Mariam to see you. She would be glad of it, I’m sure.’

  Ranulph shook his head bitterly. ‘Can you not see, Marc? It is impossible. I was the cause of her husband’s death. How can I profit from it?’

  ‘You were not the cause. You fought at his side. We both did.’

  ‘But I let our troops into the city. How can I make you understand? As boy I swore vengeance on the Normans who killed my parents. Yet when I was offered the choice between serving a Norman and going back to the galleys I reneged on my promise. I thought God had told me to enlist with Bohemond to bring His salvation to the infidel, but all I have brought is death and destruction. I am doubly foresworn, Marc. How can I offer myself to Mariam in this condition?’

  Marc looked at him in silence for a long moment. Then he said, ‘It requires a man better learned in the laws of God than I to answer you. But I am sure you are wrong. When you are stronger you must seek out a confessor and ask his advice. Go to Bishop Adhemar. He will tell you that you have nothing to repent.’

  Ranulph shook his head. ‘I will do as you say, but I fear there is no salvation for me.’

  Dino came to the door to say that he had the poultice ready and after a moment’s hesitation Marc went out and left Ranulph to himself.

  After a little Ranulph stirred himself out of his lethargy and called for Dino. ‘You said Fernando came into the city with you. Where is he now?’

  ‘In the kitchen, sir. But he and the cook are sitting idle. They have no work.’

  ‘You brought Brand. Did you also bring my chest?’

  ‘I did, sir. I would not leave it to fall into the hands of the enemy.’

  ‘Of course not. I should have known better than to ask. Bring me the smaller strong box I keep within it.’

  When the boy returned with the box he went on, ‘Now send Fernando to me.’

  Ranulph felt round his neck and was relieved to find that the chain he always wore was still there. From it hung a crucifix and a small key. He unlocked the box and took out the purse containing the last of the gold he had brought with him and carefully hoarded through the months of the journey.

  Fernando appeared, his big face puckered with anxiety. ‘I’m sorry, sir, truly, but there is no meat and precious little grain . I wish I could do better …’

  Ranulph cut him short. ‘Where is the goat?’

  The cook fell on his knees. ‘Forgive me, sir! I know you said to guard her with my life. I carried her into the city but in the confusion a man put a knife to my throat and demanded that I give her to him. I tried to resist but …’

  ‘But your life is more valuable than a goat’s,’ Ranulph said. ‘So we must make what shift we can. There must be food to be had somewhere in the city. We know that supplies were being brought in through the Iron Gate from the mountain pass. Someone must be hoarding it. Take my purse. Spend whatever is necessary. Above all, find something nourishing for the lady Mariam. Her life and the life of her child are in the balance. Bring milk, if you can find any. If not … well, you know better than I do what will be best for her.’

  Fernando’s face cleared. Entrusted with an important task and given the means to carry it out he straightened his shoulders and closed his lips with a look of determination. ‘Leave it to me, sir. If anyone can make a decent meal out of nothing, it’s Fernando.’

  ‘I know it,’ Ranulph acknowledged. ‘But listen, Fernando. The streets are still dangerous. Find Sir Marc and ask him to go with you. You will need his protection. And keep that purse well hidden. Do not let anyone see how much it holds.’

  ‘Trust me, sir,’ Fernando said. ‘I’ve been in situations like this before.’

  It was midday before he returned, red in the face with exertion and heat and shaking his head gloomily, as he displayed what he had managed to acquire. There was a live hen; a hunk of meat from a donkey’s hind leg, which looked to be mainly gristle; a second bloody object which he assured Ranulph was a camel’s tongue; a small bag of barley and a handful of walnuts.

  ‘There’s not a cat or dog alive in the city,’ he reported. ‘Now they are killing the beasts of burden that carried our tents and equipment. There is a little food for sale but the prices are exorbitant. This meat cost ten solidii, the tongue was four, and I paid one solidus each for the walnuts. The hen was fifteen but she will be worth it, if she is in lay. The man who sold her assured me she was, but I have my doubts. Here is what is left.’

  ‘Well, you have done your best,’ Ranulph said, taking the purse. ‘What will you do with what you have found?’

  ‘I shall make a stew. There are still some herbs in the kitchen. It will not be what you have been used to, sir, but it will have some nourishment.’

  ‘Fernando, you are worth every gold bezant in that purse,’ Ranuph said. ‘But I cannot give them to you. We shall need it all if we are to survive, it seems. Make sure that as soon as the stew is ready Lady Mariam gets the first bowl.’

  ‘And Sir Ranulph the second,’ Marc said from the doorway. ‘We need him fit and healthy again. We shall require every fighting man we can muster to withstand Kerbogha and his horde.’

  A day passed, a day of tension and false alarms. Watchers on the walls reported that Kerbogha and the other emirs who had joined forces with him were establishing camps around the city. They had come well prepared, with camel trains bearing supplies and herds of goats and sheep. Seeing him, the remaining Turks within the citadel refused to surrender, and messengers were seen going between them and Kerbogha’s army. When the attack came, if it did, the Franks would have to fight on two fronts.

  Ranulph’s wound was healing and Ibn Butlan pronounced himself satisfied with his progress when he called that evening. Ranulph roused himself from his lethargy to question him.

  ‘That draught you gave me, which rendered me unconscious. I think I tasted poppy but what else was in it? Henbane, perhaps?’

  ‘Hyoscyamus, yes. You would call it henbane. And also mandragora root. You have some knowledge of medicine?’

  ‘A little. I have read the works of Avicenna – Ibn Sina, you would call him.’

  ‘Indeed? There are few Franks in my experience who know of him, let alone can read him.’

  ‘I am not a Frank. I am English. But I first read Ibn Sina in Egypt when I had the good fortune to study with a scholar who was also a doctor.’

  Ibn Butlan’s gaze became sharper. ‘Indeed? I should be glad to discuss these matters further with you. But you must rest, and I have other patients to attend. We will speak again when you are stronger.’

  When he had gone Ranulph lapsed back into depression. All he could think of was that he must somehow arrange an audience with Bishop Adhemar. No lesser cleric, he felt, would have the authority to cleanse him of his guilt.

  The following morning Marc appeared at his door in his hauberk, with his sword at his hip.

  ‘It’s come. The counts have decided to mount an attack before Kerbogha has time to organise his forces.’

  Ranulph sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. ‘Dino! Bring my armour!’

  ‘Don’t be a fool!’ Marc said. ‘You are in no condition to fight. On the battlefield you would be more of a liability than an asset.’

  Ranulph ignored him and struggled to his feet but when he tried to walk the pain in his leg was so acute that he almost fell.

  ‘There, you see?’ Marc said. ‘Stay in bed, let the wound heal and then you might be some use.’ A trumpet sounded from within the city and he turned to the door. ‘I’ll be back by nightfall, if not before.’

  ‘Marc!’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘May the Lord of Hosts ride at your side!’

  ‘Amen!’

  Dino was waiting at the door, uncertain whether to obey Ranulph’s order.
Ranulph called him in.

  ‘Go up to the walls. Take care. I don’t want you getting an arrow through your head. But if you can see without exposing yourself to danger, keep watch on the fighting and bring me news of how it goes.’

  The boy came back less than an hour later, white faced, almost falling through the door in his haste. ‘Disaster, sir! Our knights rode out at the head of the army and within minutes they were surrounded by twice or three times their number. There was such a mélèe that it was hard to tell our men from theirs and when the foot soldiers saw what was happening they turned tail and ran back to the city gate. But it was too narrow for them all to get through at once. I saw men being pushed down and trampled under foot in the panic.’

  ‘And our knights?’ Ranulph asked tensely.

  ‘I heard the trumpet sound the retreat and they came galloping back. I do not think many were killed. By that time the gateway was clear so they were able to get back inside the walls. But now the Turks are attacking. They are concentrating on the flanks of the mountain, close to the citadel, and I saw the garrison there firing on our men as they tried to regroup.’

  ‘Did you see Sir Marc?’

  ‘No, sir. The confusion was so great that I could not make out individual faces. But as I said, I do not think any were left on the battlefield. He must be here, somewhere, fighting to defend the walls.’

  Ranulph heaved himself up. ‘Bring me my hauberk, and my sword.’

  ‘Sir, you cannot mean to join the fight …’

  ‘Do as you are told! I may not be fit for battle but at least I can defend this household if the enemy breaches the walls.’

  Dino retreated reluctantly and returned with Ranulph’s armour. It was a struggle to get the heavy chainmail over his head but between them they succeeded eventually and Ranulph staggered to his feet. Dino strapped his sword belt round his waist and handed him his mailed gloves. Weighted down like this it was even harder to move, but Ranulph made it as far as the door to the courtyard. There he had to admit to himself that he could not stand for more than a few minutes at a time.