Baron's Crusade

by Griff Hosker

  The King was an astute man and I went with the two knights to stand before the gates. As-Salih Ismail had given us a translator, Al-Shama, and we would be able to speak to this emir in his own language with no misunderstandings!

  I was pleased that they observed the truce and we were not riddled with arrows for we halted less than a hundred paces from the gates. Part of me wondered if this was a plot and that the King of Navarre sought to end our lives so that he could claim the glory of the war. I was wrong and I had misjudged the Navarrese king. We did not have to endure a wall of arrows and the Emir was summoned.

  When he arrived, he glared at us. “You are the men who began this war.”

  My father spoke and the translator translated, “If we begin with blame then we will get nowhere. I have a grandson I wish to see grow and I do not need to be here, Emir!”

  Even though the words were translated I could see the effect of the words and my father’s calm yet authoritative tone on the Emir. “What is it that you wish?”

  My father deferred to the Duke who spoke, “The Emir of Damascus has granted us lands: Nazareth, Bethlehem and Galilee.”

  “But they were not his to give! They are my towns.”

  The Duke was a wise man, “Nablus is a strong town but Bethlehem, Nazareth and the towns of Galilee are not. Do you think that your people could hold against us if we chose to take them?” He allowed that to sink in and then said, “The Mongols are close to your eastern border. Where would you rather have your men? Defending against the Mongols in the east or here where you know we just seek the holy places of our lord?”

  The threat of the Mongols had an effect, as the Duke had known. “We will not give a decision this day for it is almost time for prayers. Return at noon tomorrow and we will give you an answer.”

  The Duke said, “We will return at the sixth hour of the day for we will not sit here and burn.”

  The Emir nodded and I knew that we had won.

  When we went, the next morning we had the King with us and within a short time, we were admitted to the town. The negotiations lasted all day but, in the end, we had confirmation that we could keep that which we had been given so long as we helped the Emir to defend against the Mongols. The King agreed and I thought that was disingenuous of him for he would not be in the Holy Land when the Mongols attacked. King Thibaut insisted that everything be written down in Arabic and French so that none could complain after. A week after we arrived in Nablus, we headed down the coast to Ascalon. I knew that the harder task lay ahead; we had to negotiate the prisoners from the Ayyubid Egyptians who were not as threatened as the Ayyubid Turks. My father seemed philosophical about it all.

  “William, what will be will be. Richard of Cornwall will be here soon and then we can return home.”

  I did not mention Geoffrey of Lyon. My impulsive promise to a dying man could not be undone and I was committed. My father could go home and my knights could return to England but I would stay with my men and we would keep the promise to a dying man.

  We spent a week at Ascalon organising the repairs to the castle. Emissaries were sent to Gaza and to Cairo to arrange for peace talks. We had enough money to pay for the return of the captives for we had taken it from the captured cities. I did not think that it would be a question of money; there would be other demands that they would make. The Ayyubid Egyptians had had a great victory but, thanks to my father, it was the Christians who had won the war. We spent a month waiting for them to give us an answer. All the while the King and the Duke were becoming increasingly frustrated by the attitude of the other lords. It became quite obvious that none of them cared about the captives. They were arguing about who would rule the largest castles and who would control the trade. The Crusade was an afterthought. My father, more than anyone was unhappy and it was he who went to the King.

  “King Thibaut, let me go to the Egyptians. I will take my son and our men and the translator to discuss terms. We will not be a threat to the lords of Egypt and a face to face talk might well reap a reward. It is certainly better than waiting here. Besides, our men do not wish to rebuild Ascalon!” He said it with a smile and so the King knew he was joking. Over the last months, my father’s standing with the King had risen.

  King Thibaut nodded, “I grow weary of this crusade. It is not the war I thought it would be. Whatever you do will be a step forward.” He leaned forward, “I pray you to take care. There are many lords I would be happy to fall into Muslim hands but you are not one of them!”

  Our men were happy to follow my father even though they knew it was like putting their heads into the mouth of a lion! The three priests also showed their courage by volunteering to come. As Christians entered the most fanatical of Muslim worlds, they were at the greatest risk but they had seen our men face death and this was their chance to do so.

  My father and I tried to persuade Henry Samuel to remain in Ascalon with our wounded men but he would have none of it. He shook his head, “Your son, Sir Thomas, would not have stayed behind and I have my father’s blood in my veins. I will live or die at your side and that of my uncle!”

  We took just one horse each and we headed south. We passed the battlefield where my father had suffered his wound. He did not seem upset; in fact, he seemed more concerned about the men we would meet. Our translator, Al-Shama, knew much about the men who held the captives. The stronger of the brothers was As-Salih Ayyub and our translator showed us that he was a lord of some importance when he told us that he believed that As-Salih Ayyub had managed to oust his cousin and take total control. He had knowledge of the politics of Egypt which someone who was just a translator would not.

  “I believe this is a good time to speak to him for he has but a tenuous grip on the land. Crusader gold would strengthen his position.”

  My father nodded, “And his cousin, what of him?”

  “He lost his chance for total control when he tried to play one emir off against another. He is Saladin’s eldest but he is not a well man and will die soon. When he does there will be a struggle to see who can claim his title. I believe it will be my master.”

  I asked, “Then you do not like the man we meet?”

  “No, lord, but I will be honest in my translation for the Emir made me promise I would do so. As-Salih Ismail is an honourable man, perhaps too honourable. He is a man of his word and has surrounded himself with others who feel the same way.”

  With such knowledge in our heads, we were able to prepare far more effectively for this most momentous of meetings. Al-Shama listened as my father and I spoke on the long road south.

  “We do not yet know if this Al-Salih Ayyub has managed to wrest power from his brother so we must show ourselves to be above their politics, important though it is. Another reason I wished just the men from Stockton is that we do not wear the cross of Jerusalem. We are knights from England. My connection with Amaury de Montfort will make us less of a threat. Whoever rules in Egypt he will be wary of spies.”

  “And the money we can promise?”

  “Let us be vague about the amount we have. The Egyptians are rich but a new leader can never have too much money.”

  Al-Shama chuckled, “You have an eastern mind, Sir Thomas!”

  Just then Cedric rode back from the front of our ridiculously small column, “Sir Thomas, we have been followed for the last five miles. There are riders to the west of us.”

  To the west lay the coast and I looked. There was a haze of dust slightly behind us. My father nodded, “It is to be expected. This way they can cut off our retreat if we turn and run. They are assessing our threat.” None of us wore helmets and our shields, although we had brought them, were hung on our sumpters. My father’s wisdom in bringing so few men now reaped the reward. We were too small to be a threat and, if we were scouts, then we were not being very good ones.

  We halted for the night at a small nameless village east of the city of Gaza. We would not ride directly to Gaza but wait for an invitation. We paid for food and wa
ter from the villagers and camped in tents. My father smiled when he heard a horse leave the village and head west towards the city. “Better than sending one of our men. This way they will come to us.”

  Henry Samuel had been taking a keen interest in all that had been said on the way south and he frowned, “But the riders who follow us know where we are.”

  My father nodded. He could be very patient with Henry Samuel and he explained the reasons in detail, “But the men following do not know our purpose. When we came and asked for shelter Al-Shama told the headman that we were heading for Cairo to negotiate the return of the captives. The rider will tell whoever rules in Gaza. If no one comes then we continue south. Whatever happens, it will show the Egyptians that we come in peace.” He smiled, “Of course they could ignore the niceties and protocols of negotiation and take us prisoner.” Sam’s mouth dropped open. “But I do not think that will happen. The riders who followed us know that King Thibaut has an enormous army to the north of Gaza. Whoever rules in Cairo has not yet a strong hold on the reins of power.”

  We had our answer the next day when a column of Khwarzamian askari, led by an Egyptian amir, appeared as we rose. Our men impressed me for none showed any fear despite the fact that the horsemen pointed their lances at us as they formed a half-circle around our camp. Al-Shama, my father and myself walked towards the amir’s horse. My father said nothing and Al-Shama began to translate the amir’s words when he spoke. I guessed that the amir had been sent to confirm what they had heard. He rattled off his own answer and Al-Shama turned to my father and smiled, “We are to be escorted to El-Arish. The governor of Gaza does not have the captives. They are being held close to the coast, sixty miles south of here.”

  “And does this mean that Al-Salih Ayyub will be there?”

  Al-Shama shrugged, “That I do not know nor, I suspect, does this lord who takes us there. I am not worried by this and it does make sense. El-Arish is close enough to your crusader lands for their return and yet Gaza stands in the way of any rescue attempt.”

  We left. Half of the Khwarzamians rode ahead of us and the other half behind. We were outnumbered by four to one. Padraig had been left in Acre with Richard Red Leg and so we just had Peter of York and Rafe War Axe as sergeants with us. Rafe sniffed and said, “Very nice of them to take us all the way to the lion’s den, eh Sir Thomas? It saves our lads from having to scout.”

  “Aye, Rafe, but if the lion opens his mouth do not be tempted to try to count his teeth! He may bite!”

  “Sir Thomas, a lion would not enjoy the taste of Rafe for he eats a raw onion each day!” Peter was Rafe’s best friend.

  “It keeps my blood pure and you may not have noticed, Peter of York, but the insects do not bite me!”

  Peter laughed, “That is because you stink!”

  It was good-natured banter but it must have made our guards wonder at us for we were like men who were just out for a pleasant ride with friends rather than enemies being escorted to what amounted to a prison.

  Al-Shama explained what we would find at El-Arish, “The place was known, in the past, as Rhinocorura, the place where noses were cut off. It has always been a place of punishment. It is a third of the way to Cairo and is used as a stopping-off place. The sea is not far away and the Romans used the port there which lies on the edge of the Sinai desert and Bedouin caravans travel from the south. I can see why they keep the captives there. The Duke of Burgundy and the others would have nowhere to run to should they choose to escape.”

  We camped at an oasis on the road. There were mean huts there, no more than a dozen and that was all. The next day we reached the muddy sprawl that was El-Arish. The captives were held in tents. We saw those from afar as we approached. My father shook his head, “Hugh of Burgundy and Amaury de Montfort will not be happy that they have had to languish here since the battle.”

  “But the King could do nothing about it.”

  “Do you think that Hugh of Burgundy will see it that way? Would you?”

  “But it was these knights who disobeyed the King and rode off to raid.”

  “Which is what the Duke of Brittany did. Do not expect them to be reasonable, rational men. They are rich lords who are used to living in castles and not in a fly-ridden tent on the edge of a desert. It may have chastened them but I doubt it.”

  We were not taken to the tents of the captives which, we saw, were guarded by many warriors. I suspected that the large number was there to prevent a rescue attempt. There was a fort and we were taken there. It had all the feel of a prison to me. Our numbers meant that we could be held there. It also meant that we would not be sleeping in a tent but a mud building. Al-Shama explained that we would have to await the arrival of someone from Cairo. After Al-Shama spoke with the governor of the town he said, “This will be whichever brother has wrested power from the other.”

  “Can we speak with the prisoners?”

  Al-Shama translated and then said, “Not today. Tomorrow, after morning prayers, you will be allowed to speak with them, briefly.”

  The next day, it was just my father, myself and the interpreter who were allowed into the camp. The smell hit me as we approached. There were more than two hundred and fifty knights and, as far as I could see the toilets were hastily dug latrines and there was no means of bathing. Had they surrendered in the west then they would have been treated well and housed in a lord’s castle for it would be in his interest to keep them in good condition and obtain a healthy ransom. It was like keeping a prize bull in a good condition ready for when you took him to market. Here the Egyptians wanted payment for a herd! I had an interest in the squires and sergeants. I saw some squires but, from their livery, they were the squires of the most senior lords. There were no sergeants and few other squires. Both Hugh of Burgundy and Amaury de Montfort looked unwell. The joy on their faces when we approached told me that there would be relief and not acrimony.

  “Earl, Sir William, you have come to fetch us?”

  My father shook his head, “That is to be decided. We have come to negotiate for your freedom and we have funds to buy you all back!”

  “God be praised! Come sit under the awning of my tent. I fear they will not allow us inside for fear that you give us weapons.”

  The guards were Mamelukes and they were renowned for both their cruelty and their vigilance. The Duke’s squire fetched boxes for us to sit upon. Amaury asked, “Has my brother come yet?”

  “They are on their way but not yet arrived, my lord.”

  He sounded disappointed, “Thank you, Sir Thomas.”

  “And how goes the crusade?”

  My father lowered his voice for although the Mameluke guards were thirty paces away, he was not certain if they could speak French. “We have Jerusalem, Galilee and all of the land between the Jordan and the sea. We have an ally in the Emir of Damascus!”

  “God be praised! Then our captivity has not been in vain!”

  I did not contradict the Duke but had they not recklessly charged towards Gaza then we might have achieved the same ends without the losses.

  “However, we await someone to negotiate and if they are successful then we have to arrange an exchange.”

  “I know, Sir Thomas, but you bring the hope of dawn after a long journey into night.”

  We spoke in more detail about which castles and towns we now held and then I ventured, “The squires and sergeants, what happened to them, Duke?”

  “They were taken away from here a week after the battle by an emir from the north.”

  I was guessing but I ventured, “An-Nasir Dawud, the Emir of Kerak?”

  Amaury de Montfort said, “I believe that was the man. He had a hawk-like nose and a cruel disposition. He had two squires executed for nothing at all. Why do you ask?”

  I would not speak ill of the dead and so I did not give the true details but I said, “I found one of your knights, Duke, Raymond of Lyon. He was dying and he asked me to try to find his brother Geoffrey.” I was dreading that
he would tell me that Geoffrey had been one of the two executed squires.

  He nodded, “He was one of the men taken. I am sorry that Sir Raymond died. I knew his father and I swore I would look after him. I thought he had escaped when he was not here. I let him down.” He looked across the camp at the huddles of despondent knights who squatted in the sand. “I have let so many people down.”

  The Captain of the Mamelukes came over and spoke to Al-Shama. “We have to go.”

  The look of despair and desperation on the two men’s faces was pitiable. They had barely noticed my father and I in Acre and now they needed us as much as bread and water. “You will return?”

  “As soon as we can. Do not worry, Duke Hugh. The Egyptians cannot want to keep you any longer than they have to. You will be released. It is all a question of price.”

  As we walked back, I said, “That means the prisoners must be in the lair of An-Nasir Dawud. Where will that be, Al-Shama?”

  “You do not want to know, Sir William, for if they are there then they are dead men already.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Al-Karak, the place you westerners call Kerak Castle.”

  “The Templar castle?”

  My father said, “It was never Templar. It was built by King Baldwin and was only in our hands for less than fifty years! Al Shama is right. I have seen it and it is impregnable.”

  “I do not want to storm it, father! I want to rescue some men.”

  “It amounts to the same thing. Let us complete one labour before we begin another, eh, my son?”

  He was right, of course, for our minds had to be focussed.

  As-Salih Ayyub arrived the next day and he came at the head of a small army. That meant that he had won the struggle. We learned that his brother had died although the circumstances of the death were a little vague. We did not know it then but this young warrior, for he would have been of an age with my dead brother Alfred, was the stone which begins an avalanche. He was the one who united the Turks and the Egyptians and wrested all of our gains back. Of course, that was all in the future. We just saw the army and assumed the worst. We were summoned into his presence the following day. As far as I was aware, he had not bothered to visit with the captives. He had his own interpreter but Al-Shama was allowed to stay with us when we spoke with him and we would know if our words were mistranslated.