Chapter XLVI - 1183
Over the next few months I had plenty of opportunity to think of Trudy but none to speak to her, for I was constantly on the road. Indeed, on the day after the feast Guy called me and asked me to go with a party of pilgrims to Joppa. My companion was to be Phillipe, a young man from Italy.
Of the journey there is nothing to tell: the pilgrims assembled in the square outside the Tower of David and after we had pricked off their names and collected their money, we set off. Those who had horses or donkeys were quickly in the lead, those who walked were behind. Because the road was so well marked and safe Phillipe and I rode together and he, to pass the time, began to teach me a few words of his language - which is not all that different from French. Instead of "Bon jour", for example, the Italians say "Buon giorno" and there are many other similarities.
As we came down to the plain near the monastery of Latrun we were overtaken by a group of armed men surrounding a tall man riding on a mule. They greeted us as they passed and at once the pilgrims made haste to tumble off their animals and kneel in the dust and I saw the man on the mule make the Nasrani sign over them. When the group had passed and our pilgrims were once more moving towards Joppa Phillipe nudged me and winked.
"Do you know who that was?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Some Christian holy man."
Phillipe shook his head. "That was Bishop William of Tyre."
I looked after him in astonishment. "Is he going on jihad?" I asked. "Bishops do not usually have so many soldiers around them."
"He needs them," Phillipe said. "He's on his way to Rome to try and get the appointment of the Patriarch Heraclius annulled - made nothing," he added in Arabic seeing the puzzled look on my face. "I don't imagine that Heraclius is very pleased about that, and if I know anything about the Patriarch, it is that he will probably try to stop the bishop somehow. Anyhow - which is why he needs so many guards."
"How do you know this?" I asked.
Phillipe laughed. "Everyone knows it," he said. He winked again. "I'm surprised Trudy didn't tell you."
I felt my face grow dark and I turned away from him but fortunately just then one of the pilgrims called him over to ask a question and when he returned he had forgotten the matter and we spoke of other things for the rest of the journey.
When we came to Joppa and passed through the town to the port area I was amazed at the huge ships which waited off shore. Phillipe told me that he had seen some which could take as many as five hundred people, though the ones we saw were for one or two hundred at most. Truly God alone is great, but the wisdom of the Franks is astonishing.
Once all our pilgrims had been ferried from the shore to the waiting ships Phillipe bade me follow him and led the way through the narrow streets of the town to a house which, he said, had once belonged to a man called Simon the Tanner. Saint Peter, one of the first Nasrani caliphs, received there a vision from God which gave the Christians permission to eat pork and drink wine. I did not believe the tale, but Phillipe told me to remember the house and the story, because it was necessary to show this place to pilgrims in order that they might complete their haj.
From there he led me to an inn on the outskirts of town where he greeted the innkeeper and gave to him a writing from Sid Guy and also a small purse of money. We then sat for most of the afternoon listening as the innkeeper spoke of those who had passed through his inn and of the rumours in the bazaar and what ships had been sighted off the coast and many other matters of little interest.
I assumed that the money was for some party of pilgrims we had brought to the inn and wondered why Phillipe prolonged the matter of payment, chatting to the innkeeper far beyond the requirement of courtesy. When we finally left I demanded of Phillipe why, having paid our bills, we had stayed to listen to such idle talk.
"Why do you think Sid Guy pays that man?" Phillipe asked, grinning.
I shrugged. "Some of the household or a party of pilgrims have stayed there?"
Phillipe shook his head. "No. It is for just such talk that our lord pays him - and if we did not stay to listen, we would not receive the value of that money and then Sid Guy would be angry indeed."
I gaped at him. "But what use is such nonsense to us?" I protested. "You can hear such chatter from any woman in the bazaar."
"If you can, by all means do so," Phillipe laughed. "You will save our lord quite a lot of money. Nevertheless, I doubt you will find a woman who can tell you as much as he can, for he has sharp eyes and is no fool. Let's see." He raised his hand and counted off the points on his fingers. "Five times in the last month a great ship of Egypt has passed and repassed at a distance; a party of merchants has come through from Syria to Egypt yet they had neither donkeys nor camels to carry their merchandise; the price of dates has risen by more than double yet Ali abu Sofian, who is known to trade with Damascus, continues to buy; and two camel-loads of waterskins were sold to a man with a Syrian accent."
"So?" I asked. "What matter if a hundred camel-loads of waterskins have been sold?"
Phillipe tapped the side of his nose and grinned mockingly, but said nothing until we were down by the sea again and there was no one near us.
"Tell me," he said. "What is the purpose of water skins?"
"To carry water," I snapped, out of patience with this fellow and his pretended mysteries.
"And why are the Syrians suddenly buying every waterskin they can find?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. "No doubt they wish to carry water. Why trouble your head with such matters? Allah alone knows the reason for all things."
"Who reigns in Damascus?" Phillipe persisted, in no way put out by my disdain.
I stopped walking and stared at him, a sudden thought in my mind. "The Sultan, may God protect him! Do you think he needs these water skins for his army?"
"The Damascenes like dates," Phillipe answered obliquely, "but not so much that they would pay double price for them. On the other hand, someone with an army to equip ..."
"Wallah!" I breathed. "Does Sid Guy know all this?"
"He will when we get back to Jerusalem," Phillipe grinned.
We stayed in Joppa for two days and on the third day a great ship arrived from France and the whole town rushed down to the harbour to meet it. By the time we got there the first boats had already been out to the ship and were returning, loaded with pale-faced pilgrims who stared at us and crossed themselves repeatedly.
"See those men?"
Phillipe pointed to a mob of badly dressed men - Greeks and Arabs by their garments - who were crowding around the place to which the boats were heading. They were shouting and pushing one another and even coming to blows as they struggled to be the first to reach the pilgrims.
"They are our rivals," Phillipe said. "They also are guides, seeking pilgrims to take up to Jerusalem."
"By God!" I exclaimed. "Let us make haste. They will grab all the pilgrims and leave none for us."
It was not an idle fear, for it certainly looked as though there were more guides than pilgrims. As the first boat surged forward through the waves and grounded on the shore the mob of guides surrounded it, shouting and snatching at the pilgrims.
"Hadji! Hadji! You want guide? Come with me, I take you all places, Gethsemane, Jordan, Galilee, Nazareth, Jerusalem, Bethlehem. Cheap price, hawadji. Best price, hawadji. Ya effendi, come with me. Best price."
"Wait," Phillipe told me. "I'll show you how it is done."
I could barely restrain myself from rushing down to shout and snatch like the rest of them, but Phillipe remained calm even when some of the guides came towards us, dazed-looking pilgrims in tow. A fair-haired man suddenly emerged from the crowd, pushing the guides aside roughly, and walked up the beach towards us. As he approached, Phillipe nudged me with his elbow and took a step towards him.
"Bon jour, m'sieu," he said quietly. "Did you have a good voyage?"
"Bon jour," the man replied courteously. "The voyage was good, on the whole, but by our lady!" He wiped his hand across his forehead and glanced back at the guides who were now crowding around the second boat. "What's going on back there?"
Phillipe chuckled. "Those are the local guides," he explained. "They are all thieves, but for most pilgrims they are a necessary evil."
"Really?" The man sounded surprised. "I thought you would just come ashore and ask the way to the various churches and holy places, like you would do back home."
"Well, you could," Phillipe said, grinning. "However, to take just one example: how could you ask such questions if you were lost out in the country between here and Jerusalem where the people only speak Arabic?"
The man looked dismayed. "They don't understand French?"
Phillipe shook his head. "Not only that, but some of them are not over-fond of the French and would gladly put you astray if they had the chance. Now, my friend and I are guides from the house of Guy d'Orleans and we are returning to Jerusalem shortly. You could simply follow us at a distance and not pay a penny; it's only a two day journey."
"You wouldn't mind?" The man sounded relieved.
"Not at all," Phillipe assured him. "By the way, do you know how many rivers we cross on the way?"
The man raised his eyebrows. "No."
"None." Phillipe said firmly.
The man glanced up at the burning sun and ran his tongue across his lips. "So - er - what do you do for water?"
"You either have to carry enough for the journey - do you have a water skin?"
"No," the man shook his head.
"Well, a waterskin will cost you at least a dinar." The man's face fell. "The alternative," Phillipe continued, "is to use the wells along the route." The man's face brightened and then fell again as Phillipe continued, "It is the custom in this country for each traveller to carry his own bucket. There's a shop in town that sells them, again about a dinar. On the other hand, you could come with us; the price is half a dinar and that includes meals along the way, guidance to the house of Simon the Tanner here in Joppa and the house of St George in Lod, and the night's lodging with the Benedictine brothers at Latrun."
"I see." The man stood in thought for a moment and then turned and called to another pilgrim who was coming towards us, angrily shaking off the importuning guides. "Francis, over here. Listen, this chap's offering us quite a good deal."
Phillipe repeated his talk about water and by the time he had finished there were half a dozen pilgrims standing around and listening. Indeed, one man actually broke away from the guide he was with to come and join our group and it was funny to hear the other guide cursing us, for there was nothing he could do and nothing of which he could complain. We simply stood there and the pilgrims came to us.
"You see," Phillipe explained as our party straggled out of Joppa two hours later after their prayers at the house of Simon the Tanner, "We Franks are not used to all this shouting and pulling and we don't like bargaining over prices either - well, not much. A fixed price and a quiet voice does more than all the shouting in the world."
I had to agree with him, for by my counting there had been thirty-five or forty pilgrims on that ship and we had twenty-three of them!
