by Griff Hosker
“Then tell us your idea for I am happy that you join this quest.”
He shook his head, “Not here. Where are you staying?” I told him and he said, “Then I will join you there this evening. I have things to do.” He saw the concern on my face. “Do not worry, lord, you can trust me for I have given you my word. I am your man now until we have succeeded or the carrion crows pick the flesh from my body!”
As we headed back Sir Philip observed, “He seems a strange character. I wonder why he did not return home?”
“Perhaps all of his friends were dead. I know not. I think this land gets under a man’s skin. I know that my great grandfather, when he was a crusader here, left friends behind who chose this land. What I do know is that we now have a chance to do that which I promised. I do not know what Jean of Rheims has planned but whatever it is will be better than any idea I had.”
My men told me the gossip that they had heard. The Emir of Kerak hated Christians. When he had held Jerusalem, he had imposed a Christ tax, as the locals called it. The inhabitants had to pay half of their earnings to be allowed to live in the city. It explained how the Templars had managed to gain entry to the walls so quickly for there was a resistance movement within the walls already. The inn had food although it was expensive. Now we understood why the Christian’s prices were so high. He was trying to recoup some of the losses he had incurred during the misrule of An-Nasir Dawud.
Jean arrived just as we were finishing the meal. He seemed to know the owner and I saw a look of guilt on the innkeeper’s face. He had brought us wine and I poured a goblet for Jean who had drawn a crude map on the back of an old document. As he described features, he jabbed a finger at them. “You cannot get into the castle; it was always hard but now, with the improvements they have made, it is impossible. It was only lost through treachery. The slaves are taken each morning before the sun has risen, and marched three miles from the castle here south-west to the quarry, here.” He had marked the castle on the map. He jabbed a finger at a spot which he had marked with a cross. “This is where we can take the captives; it is close to the road which winds to the castle and the slaves carry the blocks from the quarry to the road and they are then loaded onto wagons. I know not why but they only have four wagons.” He shrugged, “If I was them, I would have more wagons and complete the work faster. The slaves have their legs encumbered with ropes to stop them fleeing. They only had twenty guards when I was there but that was all that they needed for they were archers and they surrounded the quarry. In addition, there is an overseer and they have four masons. To help him, the overseer has four men with whips to encourage the men to work. They stop work at midday but that is not out of kindness; the masons do not wish to work. The wagon drivers take the wagons back to the castle where they eat their midday meal in the shade and comfort of the castle. They return only after the men in the quarry have begun to work. In the middle of the afternoon, the captives are marched back to the castle. Those who die during the day are left in the quarry.”
“Men die?”
He nodded, “Normally one every two days. There is a high turnover of slaves. The odds on your finding this one squire alive are slim.”
I nodded. “I am guessing that if we take out the guards then we could overcome the overseers easily and escape.”
He turned and looked at our men, “How many men do you have?”
The ones you can see. Six of them are archers.”
He brightened, “English archers?”
“Just so.”
“Then there is a chance for you have archers the equal of these Turks.” He pointed at his map, “As I said they just have four wagons. When they are loaded, they return together to the castle. It is when they eat their midday meal that we can strike. The wagons will not return until an hour after the rest period and the guards who watch will be as relaxed as they are going to be for the captives will not be moving around and will be easier to watch. If your archers could slay six guards with their first flight then we would have a chance. Six men killed quickly would cause confusion and a second flight might swing the odds in our favour.”
“Our men are all mailed.”
“Then there is a chance. However, taking them is only the first part. You would have to slay everyone. Then the prisoners would have to be freed.”
“We have some spare horses.”
He nodded, “The overseer and his four guards ride horses. We would only have the time until the wagons return before the alarm is given. If we struck at the start of the midday break then, by the time the alarm was given we would have a three-hour start.” He let that sink in. “But it is a hard and difficult journey between Kerak and Jerusalem.”
“If we hide our men where the sentries watch then we could slay them. That would help us get the captives but you are right, the Emir would send horsemen after the captives.” Jean nodded. “First, the enemy would go to the quarry and then they would head down the road to Jerusalem. The road, from your map, passes north along the Dead Sea.”
“And that is where they would likely catch up with us. Even on horses the captives will not be able to move quickly and there is a garrison in Kerak.”
“And if we left the road and crossed the Jordan south of the Dead Sea?”
“Then they would catch us there instead.”
“Unless we ambushed them. I take it the ground to the south is rough ground?”
“It is, Sir William, for there is no road just hunter and shepherd trails across the rocky ridge there.”
“Then we place our archers on the high ground and my knights and men at arms hide there. The Turks will see the captives and hurry on to catch them.”
Jean of Rheims smiled, “That is a plan ridden with risks but it has merit. We could scout out that route on the way there for that way we would avoid scrutiny. Once we pass the Jordan then we are in the country of the horse archer.”
We spent the rest of the evening planning what we would need. Jean still had his mail hauberk from when he had been a sergeant. He had kept it in good condition and knew he would need it. He also had his own horse but he approved of the extra horses we would take. After he had gone, we spoke of the good fortune which had sent him into our path. Although he was right and the plan had risks, he had ensured that we had a chance of success, however slim.
Mark and Matthew sat and talked with me. Since my father had been wounded Mark had changed and was desperate to be the best squire that he could be, “I would be as Matthew, my brother, lord. He does not make mistakes as I do.”
Matthew shook his head, “I do make mistakes and you are too hard on yourself. Did not Sir William tell you that the Earl’s wound was not your fault?”
“He did but…”
“Your brother is right, Mark, you cannot let that incident colour or cloud your judgement. You will make mistakes; Matthew will too. I know that I did when I was a squire but you cannot live your life worrying about the mistakes that you might make. Often, in war, you have to react, almost without thinking. That heartbeat you spend debating if you should do something or holdback is the time that you die. Better to do something which is a mistake than do nothing and suffer the same end result.”
He nodded, “I am glad that I have my brother to watch and to copy. We are twins but I know that he is the better squire and I will aspire to be like him.” He smiled, “Believe me, brother, this quest will be the making of me.”
When we left, we first headed east to take the road which headed down the western side of the Dead Sea. The busier road was to the east where the traffic between Damascus, Jericho and Jerusalem passed heading south. That we would be spotted was obvious as you could not hide so many warriors in mail and the string of horses. Another advantage of having Jean with us was that he spoke the language and that helped too. Whenever we stopped for food, water or shade he made a point of telling the locals that he was a horse merchant and we were his guards. If they noticed the two sets of spurs, they did not say anything. He e
ven offered to sell our horses to them. I was worried when he told me what he intended as I knew we would need every horse we had and more. He had laughed and told me that he knew how to price it so that they were too expensive and the locals would think us fools. When we reached the southern end of the Dead Sea, we had to leave the road and turn east. There was no road here, it was a jumble of tiny trails which picked their way up and down the rocky ridge. It was dangerous for the horses and we took half a day to negotiate but it was half a day well spent.
I rode with Cedric, Philip and Jean. We had to picture the scene if we were successful and we returned with Turks in hot pursuit. We would have had a twenty-mile ride during the heat of the day. In England that would be as little as a one-and-a-half-hour ride. Here it was more likely to take us four hours or more. The men pursuing us would be more tired than we as they would have been trying to catch us. When we left the road, I hoped that they would think us fools for no horseman chose this track willingly.
It was Cedric Warbow who showed his experience and skill in setting ambushes. He spotted a high point just a mile from the eastern end of the ridge. He pointed to the rocks on both sides, “From here, lord, we could loose arrows with impunity.” He pointed to a natural dell to the south of the ridge. “We could leave our horses there. You and the men at arms could wait below us.” He pointed to two spurs which made a piece of dead ground where we could hide. “Our arrows fix their attention and then you and the men at arms flank them.”
Jean looked sceptically at Cedric, “You can be that accurate that you will not stick an arrow into one of your own men?”
I laughed, “Jean of Rheims, I could be fighting An-Nasir Dawud himself and Cedric would be able to hit him and not risk me.” I nodded, “That plan has merit. Mark and Matthew can help you, Jean, to get the captives to the road and you will not need to hurry for we will be there to hold up the pursuers. We will withdraw as soon as we have bloodied their noses and we can escape under the protective arrows of Cedric and his men.”
We camped close by the road at the eastern end of the ridge. There we explained the whole plan to our men. “Tomorrow we have an eighteen-mile ride towards Kerak. It will be upon the road. For that reason, we split it into two rides. We ride the first half before dawn and find somewhere to take shelter during the heat of the day. When it is dark, we ride to the quarry. It is unguarded at night and that will allow us to get into position early and secrete ourselves. Mark, Matthew and Sir Philip’s squire, Guillaume, will watch the horses. Jean thinks that the sentries watch from the same place each day and that should mean we can see where they will be. When we strike then it must be at the same time.”
Sir Philip said, “That would be hard to coordinate.”
Jean shook his head, “No, the Turks will provide the signal for they sound a horn at the midday break and another when it is over. After the first horn we each count to one hundred. When we reach one hundred then we begin to kill.”
I nodded, “That sounds like it might just work. We take no prisoners; we are here to rescue the captives. If any captive is too ill to walk then we will have to carry them and we will not be able to bring our own dead. If you are killed, we have to leave you for this will be hard enough as it is. I know it goes against our grain but these are a cruel people and what we do will stop others suffering.”
We sharpened our weapons that night. Cedric and his archers each chose the best twenty arrows they had for their arrow bags and we fed our horses grain and an apple. The animals would be hard pushed the next day. Having crossed the Jordan had meant we had full waterskins and they had water at the quarry; water, that most valuable of commodities in the Holy Land would not be a problem. If we had the chance, we could water our animals there. We rode, the next day, on a war footing for Kerak was truly enemy territory as it was the heart of the Emir’s domain. We were lucky we saw no one and we later discovered why. An-Nasir Dawud was meeting with the new lord of Egypt in Cairo where the Egyptian was already planning his war. Now that King Thibaut had left there was no leader to unite the crusaders. I wondered if Richard of Cornwall would assume that mantle. Perhaps his brother had planned it this way so that the English knights had been instrumental in winning the war and with King Thibaut gone then Richard of Cornwall could garner the glory. I had become cynical!
Jean’s knowledge of the region proved invaluable as he led us off the road to the castle at a place which was hidden from both directions. I had not noticed the trail but Jean took us unerringly along what must have been a hunter’s path. When we stopped, in the shade of a huge slab of rock, he explained. “When I was one of the castle’s garrison, we used to come here for there are small deer which forage in the scrub close by. They augmented the beans and broth we lived on. I was quite a good hunter in my younger days and I made silver from the practice.”
I knew how close we were to the quarry when I heard the double horn sound. Jean nodded, “They now go back to work after their break. That is how close we are.”
We unsaddled the horses and rubbed them down. More than anything we needed reliable horses if we were to escape the men who would be pursuing us. I spent time with Matthew and Mark. They had both come a long way since they had been taken from the tannery but what we were doing was beyond even their wildest dreams.
“Remember, when we ambush the enemy you two have one job and one job only, to get the captives to the road. It will be hard for I am uncertain about the condition of the men.”
Matthew nodded, “Aye, lord, but we are your squires. What about you? I would not wish any harm to come to you.”
“I am happy to be in danger for I am the leader and that responsibility weighs heavily upon my shoulders. What I would ask you to do is that, if you can, identify Geoffrey of Lyon; do that and I would be grateful.”
“We will do our best, lord.”
We did not leave our hiding place until it was getting late and we heard the triple horn which signified the end of the working day in the quarry. We followed Jean as he picked his way back to the road. This was the time of day when the road should have been empty but we took no chances. We had arrows nocked ready. When we were at a place where I saw wagon tracks in the sand, Jean held up his hand and then led us south, off the road. It was not yet dark for the sun was setting slowly to the west. The trail Jean took us down twisted and turned and we had to watch our footing. When he halted and said, “We are here.” I saw that we were on flat ground. As I dismounted, he pointed to the skyline to the west of us. There, silhouetted against the setting sun were three crosses.
He came over to me, “When a man can work no more, they put him there to die. They think it is funny.”
“Three crosses?”
“They know the story of Jesus, Sir William; it weighs upon a man when he works watching others die and knowing that if he slacks then that will be his fate.”
Others heard Jean tell me and it was like a breeze blowing over wheat as the story was told from man to man. It cast a depressing air as we tethered our horses and made a camp beneath the three crosses which dominated the skyline, even in the dark. I left my shield and helmet close by Thorn. I would not need them. I would need my dull cloak for disguise. It had been white once but the dust of the land and the lack of water to wash it meant that it was now a dull cream colour. We knew what we had to do and followed Jean as he led us up to the quarry, which was less than half a mile away. The three crosses were on the high part and were to the east of the quarry. Jean had taken us past the quarry so that our horses were also to the east of the camp. There they were in dead ground and would not be seen. The only danger would be them making a noise and our men would have to keep them quiet. We had to walk along the ridge where the crosses and the corpses stood. As he neared there was a scurrying as carrion fled. It was dark by the time we passed the crosses and for that I was grateful; I did not wish to see the half-eaten bodies of warriors. We had arranged an order when we had rested earlier in the day. It would be an archer
then a man at arms and so on until the archers were all allocated a place and then Jean, Sir Philip and myself would alternate. It was almost a complete circle. The crosses marked the gap between sentries. The plan was simple. We would all hide close to where a sentry normally watched. We would hide on the side away from the quarry. The sentries’ attention would be on the quarry.
As each man took his post I said, “You can see where the guard sits. Find somewhere close where you can hide. You can move around all you like until the first hint of dawn and then you hide and remain motionless.”
I was between Jean and Peter of York. I saw the flat ground and the discarded shells of the nuts were a clear indication of where the guard I would kill, spent his day. I saw his piles of dried dung where he emptied his bowels and I even guessed which rock he sat upon to watch the prisoners for there were two rocks and one made a backrest for the other. I found myself somewhere behind the stone seat. There were plenty of rocks in which to hide; this was a quarry. I laid my sword and scabbard between the two large rocks I had chosen as my hiding place and then walked, first to Jean and then to Peter. I needed to know where they would hide. This was the part of the plan I feared the most. It was one thing for Jean to say that the guards had a routine and only had eyes for the prisoners and quite another to hide in almost plain view.
Jean seemed to read my mind, “Lord I watched these guards every day when I worked in this quarry. Not once did they change their routine. Even when new guards came, they followed the same system.”
He was right, men did follow patterns and we would be, in the main, swordsmen attacking archers. They would not have an arrow nocked nor even a bow strung. A good archer could perform both actions in a heartbeat and a strung bow was a weakened bow. All I had to do was, when the horn sounded, count to one hundred take four steps, swing my sword and end the man’s life. I had managed to find my hiding place in a direct line to his toilet. Men were creatures of habit and he would use exactly the same spot each day. I was confident in my ability but what of the others? The majority of men were Sir Philip’s and I did not know them. It was all in the hands of God now. I could do no more.