Chapter XXIV
We all sat down and listened open-mouthed as Hilmi told us the news he had only just heard himself, that some time previously Reynauld de Chatillon had transported a fleet of five galleys to Aqaba on the backs of camels and then sailed down the Red Sea in them, attacking everything he found along the coast. His depredations were to culminate in an attack on Medina, the city which had offered refuge and hospitality to the Prophet, peace be upon him, and in which he is buried.
"And does he seek to conquer Arabia?" Babrak demanded.
Hilmi shrugged. "Who can tell? He only has three hundred Frankish knights, but there are at least as many Arabs with him and if they manage to rouse the tribes, he might even succeed. Your pardon, Fuad, but it is true that there is nothing a bedu likes so much as plunder and even religion may not be enough to hold the tribesmen back."
Reynauld de Chatillon's daring raid was in every mouth that evening as we ate our meal. Nearly everyone admired his boldness but opinion was divided as to whether he would succeed. Some of the Frankish lads were hot for him, declaring that if he were to sack Medina and destroy the tomb of the Prophet, peace be upon him, it would so dishearten the Sultan, may God protect him, that the Frankish kingdom would be safe for many years to come. Others pointed out that just as a Muslim threat to the Nasrani holy places had brought about the Frankish jihad, so Reynauld was more likely to unite all Muslims in a jihad against the Franks.
Hilmi, Hamed, Babrak and I sat silent, listening to the arguments but not saying what we thought - which was that we hoped Reynauld would be utterly destroyed. By chance we were sitting opposite the door and I was the first to see it opening. I nudged Babrak and pointed with my chin just as es-Sid Guy stepped through and stood for a moment, listening to the babble of voices. I rose hastily to my feet in respect and within a moment the whole room was standing and silent, waiting for his commands.
"I see that you have all heard the news," Guy said, his voice quiet.
"What do you think, sir?" a dozen voices shouted, but Guy hushed them with a motion of his hand.
"I have just come back from a meeting of the council," Guy said. "It seems that Reynauld kept his plans secret even from the king and council and they are as suprised as the rest of us. Reynauld set off on his adventure back in the spring and we've only just heard of it now."
He glanced at me. "You remember, I was on my way to Reynauld when I met you, Fuad. We suspected that he was up to something, but by talking to Abd al-Wahid I was able to dismiss what we suspected then. We never dreamed of anything this bold."
Guy shook his head and came into the room. He sat on a bench and we all gathered expectantly around him.
"Anyway, the king has given me a special commission; more than anything else he needs information, accurate information, in case Reynauld's actions bring some peril on the realm. Hamed, you're from Egypt: I want you to go to Gaza and find out what is happening in Egypt. Take Phillipe with you. He can smooth your way with our officials, but I want you do all the talking to the merchants and travellers. They should trust your accent. Stay there until I send for you."
"At once, Sid," Hamed said. He embraced the three of us in haste and then left the room, followed instantly by the Frank called Phillipe.
"Babrak, I want you go to ash-Shams and see if you can find out what the Sultan is doing. For obvious reasons I can't send a Frank with you, but neither should you travel alone, so take Hilmi. You're both city lads, so the two of you should be all right."
Babrak and Hilmi turned and embraced me.
"God be with you, Fuad," Babrak murmured in my ear. "You are now the only True Believer left here."
"Remember all we have taught you," Hilmi grinned. "For the honour of Islam, try not to trip over your stick again."
I watched as they walked towards the door. As he reached it Babrak turned back and spoke to Guy.
"How long shall we stay there, Sid?"
Guy rubbed his chin and considered for a moment. "No more than a month. If the Sultan is going to do anything, he will do it within that time."
"Inshallah, ya Sid, we will be back in one month."
Guy waited in silence until the sound of their footsteps had died away and then turned and beckoned to Charles.
"Charles, I need someone to go down to Kerak and find out what is going on there. The king is worried that the eastern border has been left undefended by this mad adventure." He thought for a moment. "You may need to go beyond Kerak, even as far as Eilat. I wish I could send several of you - it's dangerous down that way, but I have two pilgrim caravans that have to be seen to this week. Do you think you can manage?"
"Could I take Fuad, sir?" Charles asked. "He might be very useful if we meet any of the Sultan's men on the same road."
"That's a good idea," Guy exclaimed. "Fuad, what about it?"
"Mashallah," I said. "What God wills."
"Come on."
Charles tugged at my sleeve and I hastily snatched up the last bit of bread on my plate and crammed it into my mouth. I thought that Charles would go immediately to the stables, but instead he turned into the courtyard and sat down by the fountain, beckoning me to sit beside him.
"Why don't we get our horses and go?" I demanded, standing in front of him.
Charles grinned up at me. "We have a lot to do first, Fuad my friend. If nothing else, we have to get money from Guy's steward."
"Then in the name of God, let us do it," I said impatiently.
"But even before that, we must make a plan. When we are satisfied, we will go and tell it to Guy and if he approves, then we can go."
"A plan?" I finally sat down beside him. "What sort of a plan?"
"Well, will we go down to Kerak on the east side of the Salt Sea or on the west?" Charles asked. "Will we go as we are or will we use some form of disguise?"
"Disguise?" I was surprised. "Are we spies?"
"Yes - and no," Charles replied. "In theory we are going among friends, though to tell you the truth, I am never certain which side Reynauld is on. However the road to Kerak and beyond to Eilat is a long and dangerous one and we may meet anyone on the road - travellers, merchants, pilgrims, robbers, possibly even the Sultan and his army. If need be, you should be able to go on your own, though I will speak for you to the Franks and I hope you will speak for me to any of your friends we might come across."
"We are in the same service," I told him. "I am your sacrifice, even to the Sultan himself."
Charles grinned at me. "Thank you, my friend. However, just in case the Sultan does not listen to your words on my behalf, let us consider how we can avoid meeting him. This is what I suggest: you dress as an Arab in the same clothes and weapons with which you arrived here. I will go as I am, a clear and obvious Frank. If we meet Franks on the road, you will be my slave; if we meet Arabs, I will be yours."
"You will be my slave?" I gasped.
"Of course," Charles laughed. "You and I are brothers, Fuad. It is no shame for me to wash your feet or to wait on you as you eat and equally it will be no shame for you to do the same to me. When we are alone, of course, there is no question of master or servant; we are equal."
"By the prophet!" I laughed in my turn. "I agree. I will be master or servant as God sends."
"Good." Charles nodded. "Now tell me, how far do your tribal connections extend?"
"The Bani Ibrim will see you safely from Bethlehem to Nablus and down to Jericho," I spoke proudly. "Of late we have made friends with the Bani Jibrin and I think we can claim their protection at least as far as Madeba."
"Well, that's something," Charles nodded. "So for the first part of the trip we will ride as friends. After that we play our parts depending on whom we meet. Come, let's get ready. Meet back here as soon as possible."
We parted, he to the room where he lived with the Frankish squires, I to the room I shared with my three friends. Only Babrak was there when I entered and he was already dressed for travelling, with his sword by his side. Hamed's poem still lay on the table, his reed pen just where he had put it down.
"You have a plan?" Babrak asked.
"Charles suggests that I dress as a Muslim and then either he or I will play the part of a servant, depending on whom we meet," I told him.
"Good," Babrak wasn't really listening. "Allah protect you, brother, and remember that we are sworn to each other and you must fight even your own family in defence of Charles. Do not blacken the faces of us Muslims by playing the traitor to him, even though he is an idolator."
"Of course not!" I exclaimed indignantly.
"And if you get a chance to hit Reynauld with your famous sling, make sure you don't miss!"
He slapped me on the back, picked up his helmet and crammed it onto his head and left the room. As swiftly as possible I stripped off my Frankish clothes and put on the ones I had brought from our tents. The Sultan's sword was still on the wall by my sleeping mat; I took it down and put the Frankish one in its place, and thus dressed and armed I went in search of Charles.
I was at the appointed place only moments before him.
"Good for you, Fuad," he called to me. "Come, let us get our food and water from the kitchen."
Someone must have warned the cooks, because there were two packets of bread and dates ready, together with a small waterskin for each of us. Charles had a cloth bag all ready, but when the cook saw that I had nothing she went and found a bag for me, into which I placed the food. The waterskin I slung over my shoulder as Charles had done.
After that we went up the stairs to the part of the house where Guy lived. At the door we met Hamed and Pierre coming out.
"God be with you," we both wished each other as we passed.
"Come in," Guy called. "You have a plan?"
"Yes, sir," Charles said. "We will go as we are and Fuad can be my servant or I his depending upon whom we meet by the way."
"And which way will that be?" Guy asked.
"I thought that we would go by the King's Highway, sir. Fuad has relatives and friends for some of the way at least. Also, I think that we are more likely to pick up news on that road."
"Good, good." Guy nodded. "Stick together on the journey, but you'll have to separate in the towns. Charles, you see what information you can get from any of Reynauld's garrisons; Fuad, see if the local Arabs know anything. If you get as far as Eilat you can send messages to me via Ibrahim the fish merchant, whom you will find living in a house near the port."
He stood up and embraced first Charles and then me.
"God go with you, my sons. Take good care of yourselves and of each other and come again safely."
"Amen, sir," Charles said and made the Nasrani sign on his chest and forehead.
I said nothing, but I put my right hand over my heart and bowed my head respectfully.
