Chapter LV
A servant brought a stool and placed it by his lord's seat. I sat down and for the next hour or so I spoke to the dreaded Reynauld de Chatillon as if he had been one of Guy's squires. He asked many questions and I answered as well as I could, even when they concerned Sid Guy's household for I was speaking to a Frank, not to a Muslim, and in any case I never knew when he might be testing me again.
At least ten times during that hour the hall shook as great stones landed nearby and once I heard a shower of pebbles thrown up by one of these stones rattle against the hall door. Reynauld laughed.
"If that is the best they can do we'll hold out until the king comes, no problem. You can tell him so." He stopped suddenly. "You want to go back? You can stay here in the castle if you'd rather."
I hesitated. Was this another test? "Lord," I said slowly. "I shall do whatever you command. Sid Guy has given no orders other than that I should deliver the message."
"However you can't take a message for me, can you, if you stay in here?" Reynauld considered for a moment. "No, I think you are what you claim to be. If you wish to go, you are free to do so. We'll arrange a truce for you."
"Lord," the man who had brought me stepped forward. "If you are letting him go, why not gain some credit with the sultan? Give him a purse of money and tell the sultan that you forgive him for breaking the sultan's truce and entreat the sultan to be merciful to him."
"Merde," Reynauld snarled, his face suddenly angry. "What do I care for the sultan's opinion?" He thought for a moment and then waved his hand. "Do what you like. We can't have them suspecting our friend here." He turned back to me. "Tell your lord - and he will tell the king - that we can hold out as long as necessary. We have food and the cisterns are as full as you can expect at this time of year."
"There are the people from the city, lord," one of the clerks spoke up.
"True," Reynauld considered for a moment. "Tell the king that we can certainly hold out for a month or even two months, but after that we may have to pull our belts in."
I repeated the message to show that I had understood it and then the man who had brought me led me back to the gate and bade me stand by the postern.
"I'll climb up and organise the truce for you," he said and disappeared through a small door.
It was dark in the vaulted hall and I paid no attention when an old woman shuffled up to me and peered into my face, so I was startled when she spoke to me in French.
"Fuad! It is you, isn't it?"
I stared at her in the gloom and suddenly recognised her.
"Madame Melisende! Are you well?"
She put her hand on my shoulder. "Have you been in the town, Fuad? What has happened to my house?"
"The house is safe, Madame," I told her. "As for the things inside, I could not see, for one of the Sultan's great ones is living in it now."
"Well, at least they haven't burned it," she sighed and then chuckled. "I hope they enjoyed the meal I left them half-cooked."
"You left a meal for them?" I asked in surprise.
"Not for them," Madame Melisende chuckled again. "I was busy in my kitchen when I heard the crash as the wall collapsed. Fortunately one of the soldiers had told me it was about to fall so I knew what the sound meant and just ran out of the house and came here. Others were not so lucky."
She suddenly shook me with surprising strength in her arms. "We only just made it, you know. Your sultan's men were hard on our heels and probably would have pressed into the castle before we could close the gate only a knight called Ivan stood on the bridge and held them off alone while some of the men-at-arms hewed down the supports with their swords and battle axes."
I was about to ask her whether Dame Katerina had also escaped when the man came out of the door and beckoned to me. On an impulse I fell to my knees and caught at Madame Melisende's hand.
"Bless me, mother, even as you bless Harun."
"Ah my son," she said, making the Nasrani sign over me with much larger gestures than I had dared on the slope. "Go with God and come again in better times."
I rose to my feet and kissed her hand, then went over to where the man was waiting.
"You know her?" he asked.
"I stayed with her once," I said.
He nodded. "She's all right," he said. "She's got guts. Some of the others . . . pah! A whole troupe of troubadours came here for the wedding and by Saint Dennis, I've never seen such cowards in my life. You'd think they'd try to use their art to encourage the others but not them. They're down in the cellar weeping every time a stone hits us. Here, take this."
He thrust a heavy purse into my hands and unbolted the postern.
"Off you go and good luck," he said, finally smiling.
I stepped out into the sunlight and at once the postern thudded shut behind me. I climbed down into the ditch but at the bottom I stopped and turned to wave up at the casle, at the same time slipping the purse into my girdle. It had suddenly occurred to me that letting the Sultan's men see it might not be a good idea.
