Chapter LIV
Still bound, I was marched through the town towards the castle. A crowd of curious soldiers followed and I heard many reasons given for my situation, most of them very far from the truth. The great machines stopped working as we passed and finally we came to the edge of the area kept clear by the archers on the walls.
"Ohe!" one of my guards shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. "The Lord Salah ud-Din sends a message."
A head appeared in one of the embrasures.
"What did you say?" the man called back.
The guard released his hold on me and stepped forward. At once half a dozen bowmen appeared, all aiming their drawn bows at him. He stopped and held out his hands to show that he held no weapon.
"Come closer," the man on the walls shouted.
The guard walked to the edge of the ditch and the bowmen followed his every step with their weapons. He climbed down into the ditch, where the ruins of a bridge lay, and then with difficulty made his way up the other side to where a small gate stood in a corner of the wall. He stopped outside this and looked up. I couldn't hear what was said but the man on the walls disappeared and the guard relaxed and turned to look out over the town.
After a short time I saw the guard turn suddenly and approach the gateway. One of the men of the castle stepped out and there was some conversation, after which the guard turned and waved to us. At once the other guards grabbed my arms and marched me over to the ditch. They, no doubt, thought that I would be reluctant to go; if only they knew with what gladness I went with them!
"Only two," the man at the gate shouted, and the other guards turned back, leaving one man above me and another below to half carry me down into the ditch and push me up the other side. At the top the first guard came and pulled me up by my hair, ignoring my cry of pain and dismissing the other two. He led me over to the gate and the Frank stared at me in silence for a moment.
"Tell your lord that we thank him," he said to the first guard. "We will give you time to return to your lines."
At once the guard turned and scrambled down into the ditch and up the other side. As he neared the top the Frank stepped back into the castle and beckoned to me to follow him. I obeyed and stood in silence while they bolted and barred the gate again.
"Well," the man said in halting Arabic, "So you're the culprit who has been breaking the Sultan's truce, eh?"
"Monsieur," I said, speaking my best French, "I have a message to you from the king in Jerusalem."
The man was just turning to lead the way into the castle, but at these words he turned again and looked at me in silence for a long moment.
"The devil you do!" he exclaimed. "What's a dirty Arab doing speaking French, eh?"
"Monsieur, I am a squire of Guy d'Orleans. I have been in his service for a year. Now I bring a message from the king."
"Well, you'd better come and see the prince," he said. "Come on."
I followed him through the gateway, which led into a long vaulted corridor that was crowded with people - men, women and children. At the other end we emerged into the sunshine of the courtyard. As we crossed this I heard a strange whistling sound and the man halted and turned to look up into the sky.
"Missed," he muttered as a great stone flew overhead and crashed to the ground fifty paces away, throwing up a shower of dust and pebbles.
"Come on," he said again and strode briskly along a well-worn path towards the rear part of the castle.
I followed as rapidly as I could, but it is surprisingly difficult to walk on uneven ground when your hands are bound behind your back and your ribs are hurting from the beating you have received as well as from the bruises caused by falling down the glacis. The man reached the door of an imposing hall and waited until I caught up with him, then he turned the door handle and pushed the door open. We went up the steps and entered a hall in which a dozen men sat or stood around.
"My lord," he said, bowing. "Saladin has sent us this fellow, claiming that he is the one who broke the sultan's truce by shooting at the bridal tower. The sultan submits him to our justice."
Reynauld de Chatillon himself rose up from his chair and came towards us and I must admit that my heart almost stopped with fright, for he was a giant of a man and his face was hard and cruel.
"You didn't blindfold him?" Reynauld demanded.
"No, lord," the man said. "You see, he speaks French ..."
"Speaks French, eh?" Reynauld boomed, standing right in front of me. "That makes him doubly a spy. Hang him."
"... and he claims to bring a message from the king, lord."
"What's that?" Reynauld looked at the man and then turned and stared at me. "A message from the king?"
"Yes, lord," I stammered. "I am a squire of Guy d'Orleans and ..."
"Guy d'Orleans?" Reynauld stood back a pace and regarded me grimly. "How many children does he have?"
"Lord?" I stared at him in surprise. "Er - I don't know, lord."
"Ha!" Reynauld said. "Hang him."
"Lord," I said desperately, "I have only been in Sid Guy's service for a year. I don't know how many children he has; I have only met his daughter."
"What's her name?"
"Ermintrude, lord," I said, "but she insists that I call her Trudy."
Reynauld lowered his head and stared at me from under his eyebrows. "Hmmm. I heard that he had some Arab squires. Met one of them once - what are their names?"
"My companions are Babrak, Hamed and Hilmi, lord."
"Hilmi, that was the one," Reynauld snapped his fingers. "Could do amazing things with his bow."
I smiled. I understood that Reynauld was testing me. "No, lord. Hamed is the one with the bow. Hilmi uses the dagger."
"Hmmmm." Reynauld stood looking at me for a further moment and then turned away. "Untie him."
The man drew his dagger and in a moment my hands were free and I was rubbing my wrists where the rope had cut into them.
"Come here," Reynauld said, sitting down on his seat and beckoning to me. "What's your name?"
"Fuad, lord."
"Right, Fuad. The lord Saladin says that you attacked the tower in which our bridal couple are enjoying themselves. Is that true?"
"Lord," I said, taking my stand in front of him. "It is true, but it was not to do you harm. I had a message to deliver to you. It was put in a ball of clay and I slung it in through the window. Has it not been found?"
"Is this it?" Reynauld said and at once a clerk rose up from the table and brought a scrap of parchment over. Reynauld motioned the man away. "What does it say, Fuad?"
"I do not know the words, lord," I said, "but it bears the name of Guy d'Orleans and warns you that the king cannot come for three or even four weeks."
"Is he right?" Reynauld demanded.
"Yes, lord," the scribe said.
"Well, well, well," Reynauld threw back his head and laughed. "Just as well we didn't hang you, eh? Now, come and sit here and tell me all about what is happening in Jerusalem."
