God's Warrior

by Hilary Green

  No one believed the tale. At the next meeting of the council Arnulf declared that his death had been God’s judgement on a false prophet and anyone who had believed him was at best a fool and at worst an opponent of the Holy Will, which was that they should abandon the siege of Arqa and proceed immediately to Jerusalem. Godfrey rose to support him and announced that he would take his troops and anyone else who wished to join him and march south. Ranulph, listening and translating as usual, felt his loyalty increasingly fractured. He had abandoned Bohemond because he thought Raymond was more dedicated to the cause, but he had shown himself just as mercenary and ambitious. Could he now, he asked himself, in all good conscience, offer his services to Godfrey?

  By this time it was clear that Raymond was becoming more and more isolated. All the northern French were with Godfrey and Tancred had transferred his loyalty to him as well. Marc and Ranulph talked long into the night and next morning presented themselves to Godfrey and offered their allegiance. The siege was broken up and the whole army prepared to head south towards Tripoli.

  Just as they were about to leave a messenger arrived with letters from Antioch, and with them one addressed to Ranulph. He broke the seal and stood gazing mutely at the contents.

  Marc laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Bad news?’

  Ranulph withdrew his thoughts from somewhere far off. ‘No. No, not at all. Mariam is with child.’

  15.

  ‘At last! At last! God be praised, I have seen his Holy City!’

  Marc slid from the saddle and fell on his knees, tears of joy spilling down his cheeks. Ranulph dismounted more slowly, gazing across the valley towards the walls of Jerusalem. The same joy and relief swelled within him, but at the same time his mind was assessing the scale of the task still before them. If Antioch had appeared impregnable, Jerusalem was more so. As well as its massive walls, it had natural defences. To the east and south-east and the west there were deep valleys, their sides steep and rocky. The only possible approaches were from the north and the south-west and even from this distance he could see that those areas had been reinforced with inner walls and dry moats. He saw no chance of a frontal attack succeeding, and they would not be given enough time to stage a prolonged siege. Reports from Egypt had told them that the vizier al-Afdal was already heading for Jerusalem with a huge army.

  All around, men were kneeling like Marc and offering up prayers of thanksgiving. Ranulph knelt too, but even as he murmured the familiar words part of his mind was noting the lack of grazing for the animals, the parched landscape with little sign of water, and calculating how many days the army could survive without fresh supplies. They had covered the distance from Arqa more rapidly than he had expected. For most of the way they had followed the coast, and the towns on their route had offered little resistance. The reputation earned at Antioch and at Ma’arat had stood them in good stead. Tripoli and Tyre had opened their gates and only Sidon had made a brief stand against them. On that part of the journey they had the benefit of fresh supplies brought from Cyprus by the English fleet under Edgar, which had shadowed their progress all the way. At Ramlah they had turned inland and begun to climb, pausing for a while when they reached Lydda, the burial place of St George. Now, after three years and a journey of close on 2,000 miles, they were within sight of their goal.

  Count Godfrey called his knights to him. ‘This place is called Qubeiba, but some say it is the Emmaus of the Bible, where Christ first appeared to two of his disciples after his resurrection. We will rest here for the night, and tomorrow we will make camp outside the walls.’

  As the men dispersed to make what arrangements they could for the night, sentries shouldered their way through the crowd with two prisoners, men in the clothes of respectable merchants. ‘My lord, we found them hanging around the edge of the camp. They don’t speak French, but they are both wearing crosses so it looks like they are Christians of some sort.’

  ‘Bring them here.’ Godfrey looked around him. ‘Ranulph, I need you to interpret. Ask them who they are and what they want with us.’

  Guessing that the pair were Armenians, Ranulph addressed them in Greek, the language closest to their native tongue and the lingua franca of Christians in that part of the world.

  One of the men responded eagerly, ‘We are merchants from the city. The governor, Iftikhar al-Dwala, has expelled all Christians, fearing treachery, so we thought it best to come to you. We have urgent news for your leaders.’

  ‘What news?’ Ranulph asked.

  ‘Iftikhar has ordered all wells and water sources to be either poisoned or blocked.’

  Ranulph translated and Godfrey’s face grew grim. ‘We have food for several days, but without water we cannot survive. Ask them where the nearest water supplies are to be found.’

  The answer was not encouraging. To reach fresh water would involve a journey of several hours through the mountains, over passes which were guarded by Iftikhar’s troops. Godfrey absorbed this information and shrugged. ‘If that is the only way, we must take it. Is there nowhere near the city?’

  ‘There is one place,’ the man replied. ‘The pool of Siloam lies in the valley just outside the walls, but it is within bow shot of the ramparts, and its flow is intermittent. It will not supply a whole army.’

  When this had been translated Godfrey said, ‘Thank them, and see that they are given what food and comfort we can supply. That is all we can do for tonight.’

  The second man touched Ranulph’s sleeve. ‘There is something else. The town of Bethlehem is not far distant and the people there are all Christians. They would welcome your protection and perhaps be able to supply some help.’

  Tancred had been listening to the exchange and when Ranulph relayed this information he cut in.’I will go to Bethlehem. I will take a small force and secure it. It is fitting that we should ensure that the birthplace of Our Lord is under Christian protection.’

  Godfrey considered a moment and then nodded. ‘Very well. But leave only a few men to guard it. We need every able-bodied man we can muster for the battle to come.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Tancred agreed. ‘But it is wise to secure our rear. I will return as soon as I have done that.’ He paused and looked round. ‘I shall need an interpreter. I will take Ranulph – if he is willing.’

  Ranulph met his eyes, hiding his surprise. It was not so much the request. Tancred, he knew, did not speak Greek, so an interpreter would be essential. It was the fact that he had chosen him over other Greek speakers in the army, and that he had offered him a choice. For a moment he hesitated, remembering their old hostility. But Tancred had changed. He was no longer the brash youth who had refused to bow to Alexios. Three years of hard campaigning had matured him. He was still impetuous, but he had proved himself a brave warrior and a good leader and now, Ranulph sensed, he was regretting his earlier animosity and offering an olive branch. He nodded, ‘I will come with you willingly, my lord, if I can be of service.’

  They set off at dawn the next day but before they had gone far the sun was beating down from a cloudless sky, making armour too hot to touch. Ranulph felt as if his head was being roasted under his helmet and sweat trickled into his eyes and soaked his gambeson and breeches under his hauberk. He had re-filled his water bottle from their dwindling supply before leaving and the contents were soon warm and brackish, but even so it was hard to resist the impulse to drain it. Tancred, he noticed, was not exercising the same restraint. A mile or two outside Bethlehem they saw a small pool lying at the bottom of a rocky cleft.

  ‘Water!’ Tancred exclaimed. ‘Thank God! My throat feels as if I had swallowed the desert.’

  He urged his horse down the slope and Ranulph followed. Tancred’s men, too well disciplined to break ranks, waited on the road. By the time Ranulph reached him, he had dismounted and was splashing water over his face and head. Ranulph looked at the ground around the pool. The dust was pockmarked with hoofprints.

  ‘My lord, this is a place where animals come
to drink. It would not be wise for you to drink the water.’

  Tancred looked up, his cupped hands already full. ‘Why not? Do you see any dead animals? No? So the water cannot be poisoned. Drink, man, while you have the chance!’

  Ranulph shook his head but Tancred was already drinking. Dino, at Ranulph’s heels as always, slid down from his mule.

  ‘Let us drink, too, sir. Surely Lord Tancred is right.’

  ‘No! Leave it, Dino. I know it is tempting, but it is better not to take the risk.’

  They reached the town about midday. Outside the gates a small force of men carrying a motley collection of weapons waited for them.

  ‘Tell them we mean them no harm,’ Tancred instructed.

  Ranulph tied the white scarf he wore round his neck to the end of his lance and rode forward. ‘Do not be alarmed. We are Franks, fellow Christians. We come to offer you protection against the infidels.’

  The relief on the faces before him was immediate.’Sir, forgive this inhospitable reception,’ the leader said. ‘We did not know when we saw your warriors approaching who you were. We were afraid that you might be Turks, come to seize the town while the Egyptians in Jerusalem are otherwise occupied.’

  They were welcomed into the town and given bread and wine. Then, at Tancred’s request, they were conducted to the basilica which dominated the skyline. It had been built, they were told, at the behest of the Emperor Constantine, over the very stable where Christ had been born. Ranulph knelt with the rest, scarcely able to believe that he had been permitted to reach such a sacred place. Tancred had knelt, too, but when the prayers were over he insisted, to general consternation, on raising his standard on the tower. Ranulph watched wryly. He had to give the young man credit for committing himself to finishing the quest and breaking with his uncle when Bohemond refused to leave Antioch; but now it seemed the desire to stake his claim to any conquered land seemed to run in the family.

  They spent the night in the town, but it was a poor place and the food they were offered, though probably the best available, was unappetising, a greasy mutton stew. Tancred, nevertheless, ate all he was given and immediately afterwards wrapped himself in his cloak and fell asleep. He and Ranulph had been given beds in the courtyard of the mayor’s house and Ranulph lay awake for some time, looking up at the stars through a trellis of vines. His thoughts turned to the birth of Christ and the contrast between the poor stable of the Bible story and the magnificent church built over the spot. It would not have been an easy confinement, he reflected. From there it was a natural step to thinking about the news that had reached him before they left Arqa. It would be easier for Mariam. She had already given birth to three children, and the women who attended her were experienced – and if the need should arise Ibn Butlan was close at hand. He let his imagination drift to the future, after his return to Antioch. He found it hard to see himself as a father. He had no memory of his own, and his only experience of family life, until the last few weeks with Mariam, had been the years he had spent as a boy with Piet Joossens in Bruges. What was a father’s role? He would teach the boy his letters, and how to ride, and how to use a sword to defend himself … Of course, it might be a girl. Well, she could be taught to read and perhaps to ride … why not? On that thought, he fell asleep.

  He was woken suddenly in the middle of the night by Tancred rolling out of bed and stumbling across the courtyard to the gate leading to the midden. Drowsily, he formed the words, ‘I told him not to drink that water,’ but then he slept again.

  Tancred woke short tempered and heavy eyed, his face pale, as far as Ranulph could see beneath the sunburn and the rough beard. He refused breakfast and insisted on leaving for Qubeiba immediately. Watching him as they rode, Ranulph repeatedly saw him clench his jaw and writhe in the saddle as if in pain.

  ‘Look, sir! There’s a cave up there in the hillside.’ Dino’s voice recalled his attention to their surroundings.

  Ranulph looked up and saw the dark opening. It crossed his mind that it would be a good hiding place from which to launch an ambush, but they rode past it without seeing any sign that it was occupied. Returning his gaze to the road, he was suddenly aware that Tancred had drawn his mount aside and waved his men to go on past him. He turned in his saddle and saw him ride into the shelter of an outcrop of rocks.

  ‘Something’s wrong,’ he told Dino. ‘Come with me.’

  They found Tancred doubled up over his horse’s withers. His breeches and his saddle were dark with excrement. Ranulph rode closer, fighting the urge to gag at the stench, and reached to take hold of the bridle.

  ‘Leave me! Go away!’ Tancred croaked.

  ‘You need help,’ Ranulph said. ‘For a start we must get you out of this sun.’

  ‘The men mustn’t see me like this,’ Tancred muttered.

  Dino edged closer. ‘What about the cave, sir? We could take him there.’

  ‘Good idea. Ride back to the men. Tell the sergeant that Lord Tancred has had a vision, that he is going to the cave to pray. Tell him that the count’s orders are that he should take the men back to the camp at Qubeiba. Go with them. Go to my tent and bring the casket of herbs from my chest, also some water and a pan to boil it in. Tell Sir Marc what has happened and ask him to find some clean breeches. Bring them all to the cave as soon as you can.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ The boy’s face lit up at the prospect of being charged with an important mission and he turned his mule and started to move away. A few strides off he halted. ‘I don’t like to leave you, sir. Will you be all right?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me. Just bring me what I need.’

  Dino hesitated a heart beat longer, then urged his mule back onto the road. Tancred was groaning and trying to dismount.

  ‘No, wait. I need to get you somewhere you can rest. Try to stay on your horse for a bit longer.’

  Ranulph heard voices on the road ahead and then the clatter of hooves as the company moved off. When the sound had faded into the distance he pulled the reins of Tancred’s horse over the animal’s head and led it back to the road and then up the slope to the cave. Leaning down, he peered in. It was deeper than he had expected, running back into darkness impenetrable from outside in the sunshine; but there were no tracks, either animal or human in the dust around the mouth. He dismounted and tied the reins of both horses to the branch of a dead tree overhanging the opening. Then he gripped Tancred under the arm and pulled him out of the saddle. The count was doubled up with pain, but he managed to keep on his feet with Ranulph’s support until they were inside the cave. There Ranulph lowered him to the ground, took off the surcoat which he wore over his hauberk , rolled it up, and placed it under his head. Then, gritting his teeth, he pulled off Tancred’s boots and then his stinking breeches, which he dumped outside. Kneeling, he eased him over onto his side. His buttocks and thighs were smeared with filth and, with a reluctant sigh, Ranulph took off his scarf, sweat stained and far from clean already, and wiped them.

  ‘We need water for this job,’ he said, ‘ but there’s none to spare.’

  ‘Leave me,’ Tancred mumbled. ‘This is not work for a knight.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ Ranulph agreed. ‘But perhaps not unsuited to a brother in Christ.’

  Tancred was silent for a moment, then with a convulsive heave he got to his feet and staggered outside. Ranulph let him have what privacy the circumstances allowed, glad that at least he had not defecated in the cave. He came back after a little while and sank down again with a groan.

  ‘You were right about that water.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ranulph agreed non-committally.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘I have sent my page for some medicaments that may help. We shall have to wait some time, I’m afraid.’

  Tancred grunted and began to pull off his surcoat. Ranulph helped him to shed the heavy mail coat beneath it and took off his own. After the heat of the sun the cave was pleasantly cool, so much so that after a while he noticed that Tancred was b
eginning to shiver.

  ‘We shall need a fire. When Dino brings back the herbs I have sent him for I shall have to boil water. I’ll see if I can find any wood.’

  Outside the horses stood with their heads drooping, whisking their tails against the flies. Ranulph took off the saddles and used a bunch of twigs to remove the worst of the mess from Tancred’s. Then he broke off some of the dead branches and carried them inside. There was flint and tinder in his pouch and a fire was soon crackling at the entrance to the cave. He fetched the water bottles, which had been refilled with fresh water from the well in the town, and persuaded Tancred to drink. After that, Tancred lay back and seemed to drift off into an uneasy sleep and Ranulph, with nothing to do but wait, decided to explore the rear of the cave. He took a glowing branch from the fire and using it as a torch made his way into the darkness. At first the roof was so high that he could not see it, but soon it dropped till it was just above his head and a little beyond that the cave ended in a pile of rocks. What he found there surprised him.

  Going back to Tancred he saw that his eyes were open. ‘Been exploring?’

  Ranulph thrust the remains of the branch back into the fire and sat down beside him.

  ‘Not much to explore. The cave comes to an end a short way back. But there is one curious thing. There’s a stack of wood back there – not firewood, beams and planks. Heaven knows who left it there, or why.’

  ‘Keeping it dry, I suppose.’

  ‘For what purpose? To build a house, or a barn? Why would anyone want to build out here in the middle of nowhere?’

  Tancred shrugged and closed his eyes. A moment later Ranulph saw a new spasm of pain constrict his face and he stumbled outside again. After a while he came back and collapsed onto the rough bed Ranulph had fashioned for him.

  ‘Almighty God! Is there no end to this?’