Chapter LVIII
The road to Mecca is well marked, for not only is it used by trading caravans bearing frankincense from the Yemen and trade goods in return, but it is the road taken by vast numbers of pilgrims, for most who visit Mecca wish also to pray at the tomb of the Prophet, peace be upon him. For the whole distance there are inns and wells an hour or so apart - and by God they are needed, for once the gardens of Medina are left behind there is nothing but a dry and barren country, covered with sand and ranges of bare black rock.
I slept that night on the sand a short distance from the road and in the morning I continued my journey. After an hour I caught up with a company of pilgrims and laughed when I saw them, for there were exactly the same sorts of people as had burdened us when we took the Christian pilgrims to Jericho - the old men and women, those who walked and held everyone up, those who were burdened by children, and the harrassed looking guards. From one of them I learned that the distance to Mecca was ten days from Medina, but it was possible to complete the journey in as little as six days without great harm to one's camel, or in five if one did not care whether the camel lived or died - or, I thought, if one had a splendid beast such as I owned.
On the third day I rode for several hours through an oasis where there were green fields and forests of date palms and the contrast between this and what came before and after caused me to marvel that this land which had received the blessed footprints of the Prophet, peace be upon him, should be so dry and desolate. I remembered the words of Charles and his description of his own land. Truly, I thought, who can understand the wisdom of Allah? Why should he give prosperity and pasture to the Franks and barren desert to the True Believers? What fat camels we could rear in the land of the Franks, what cheese, what milk, what fat-tailed sheep! With such thoughts I filled the hours until nightfall, when I stopped at a large khan and fed and watered Ghazala before eating my bread and greens.
On the fourth day I encountered a couple of merchants returning from Mecca and from them I learned that the prisoners had arrived in Mecca the day they left and that twenty of the Franks and the same number of Arabs were killed at once. The others were to be killed over the next few days for the edification of the multitudes who had heard of and feared the courage and strength of the Franks.
"I must make haste," I exclaimed when I heard this.
"By God, thou art a blood-thirsty youth," one of the merchants said with a smile. "If thou art so eager to see Frankish blood shed, then go to as-Shams and join the host of the Sultan, for we hear that he is about to fight against these infidels and expel them from the land."
"Inshallah," I replied, "but first I must complete my pilgrimage and also, if God wills, see these Franks in Mecca."
Knowing that some of the Franks still lived made me more eager to reach Mecca, for surely I would receive great praise from es-Sid Guy if I could speak to some of them and bring him word from their mouths. I bade farewell to the merchants and rode down the slope away from where we met, urging my camel to trot.
When I reached the bottom of the slope, however, I realised the folly of my actions and remembered the wise words of Charles and Harun, for though they had spoken of horses, surely their advice also applied to camels. What would it profit me to reach Mecca in a short time if the camel should die and leave me to return on foot? I had not enough money to buy another one - and especialy such an one - nor enough to defray the expenses of a slow journey on foot back to the house of Sid Guy.
Three days later at midday I came through the gap in the brown rocky hills and saw below me the holy city. At once I dismounted and prostrated myself, giving thanks to God for permitting me, a poor bedu, to make the pilgrimage to this place. Then I rode into the town, passing through the Medina Gate where I was immediately accosted by men willing to help me make the Haj, but when I found the price they were asking I rode on into the town.
One of these men, perhaps inadvertently, mentioned that there was a hostel for pilgrims, the Khan ez-Zeit, and by asking in the bazaar I found my way to it. There I was given a room which I shared with five other men, and stabling for my camel. In addition the keeper of the khan told me for free the information that the guides wished to sell to me. Following his advice I changed into the garb of the pilgrim and found a barber to shave my head, after which I set off for the Haram ash-Sharif, passing through Bab Ibrahim, one of its nineteen gateways, to the great courtyard in the centre of which stood the Holy Ka'aba.
Immediately I prayed for the blessing of Allah upon myself and my family and also upon the household of Sid Guy, for it is said that whatever one prays for upon first sight of the Ka'aba is certainly granted. More than that I could not do, for there were many hundreds of pilgrims already there and I could not come at the cloth-covered rock.
Instead I followed the advice of a fellow pilgrim and went to one side to perform the Sai ceremony, in which I ran seven times between Safa and Marwa, the tombs of Hagar and Ishmael, for this is what Hagar did when she thought that Ishmael our father was dying of thirst and there was no water to be found.
Another pilgrim pointed me to the place where Abraham the father of Ishmael prayed and told me that there was great merit to be gained by praying on that spot, so I went there and performed the necessary prostrations. When I had finished, however, the man next to me told me that merit was only gained if the prayers were offered after one had walked round the Ka'aba seven times, so I went and circled the great stone at a distance seven times and then came and prayed again.
Finally I went to the holy well of Zamzamma, the water which God opened to our ancestor Ishmael when he and his mother were driven away from his father's tent by the father of the Jews. There was a man there with a bucket by which he drew up the water and gave cupfuls to the pilgrims who crowded round.
"Drink, drink," he urged. "Drink of the water of Paradise. Drink that you may be cleansed."
The pilgrims gave him small presents as thanks for his labour and I noticed that those who gave the largest presents received also the brimming cups while those like me who had only a few piastres to give received cups that were barely half-full.
Even though this was not the time of the pilgrimages, small or great, yet there were crowds gathered about the well so that I had to wait for some considerable period of time before I could drink of the water. While I waited I spoke to those about me, exchanging news and stories of our adventures, and from them I learned that ten Franks and three Arabs had been killed that very day in the great square outside the mosque.
"Al-hamdulillah!" the man who told me this exclaimed. "Truly it is a sight pleasing to Allah to see these infidel Franks slaughtered in the very place they wished to destroy. They come as enemies of religion, seeking to defile the places made holy by the Prophet, peace be upon him, and Allah gives them into our hands to be killed like sheep. Allahu akbar!"
"Allahu akbar!" we all responded. "Truly God is great."
His words reminded me of my duty, however, and after drinking of the water of Zamzamma I returned to the town instead of going to stone Iblis and made enquiries regarding the Franks. One said one thing, another said something else, but finally I was directed to a prison where the Franks were being kept and which one could enter by paying a small fee to the guards.
"You are just in time," the man said when I put a coin in his hand. "There is only one left and he will be killed tomorrow or the day after."
"Where is he?" I demanded, standing in the courtyard and looking about me.
"Over there," the man said, pointing with his chin towards a crowd of men and boys gathered around a large wooden cage.
I went over and pushed my way through the crowd, most of whom were standing silently staring in through the bars of the cage at a young, fair-skinned man who was sitting quietly with his knees drawn up to his chin. The chains on his wrists and ankles were the only sign that he was a prisoner.
There were several small boys near me, yelling "Ya Ferangi, ya Ferangi" over and over again and when the Frank ignored them, they threw stones or clods of earth or tried to reach him with the sticks they carried. I grabbed one of the boys and shook him, rebuking him for behaving in such a discourteous manner towards a defeated enemy, but he stuck out his tongue at me and called my mother a she ass, whereupon I struck him on the face and bade him be gone before I whipped him. At this he fled, taking his friends with him, and there was a murmur of approval from the other men.
I pushed my way through the crowd and stood for a while at the bars, staring at the Frank without speaking. I hoped that he would look up and that I might make some sign to him, but he sat unmoving until eventually I wearied of watching him. I cleared my throat noisily, but still he sat staring before him and at last I turned and pushed out of the throng and into the open.
"What is his name?" I demanded of the guard.
The man shrugged. "Allah alone knows."
"Has no one questioned him?" I asked.
The guard shrugged again. "What is there to question? He came here in arms; he was captured, he will be killed. Khalas. Finished."
"But he might know what that son of a dog Reynauld is planning next," I protested. "Surely someone should speak to him!"
"Even if we would, we cannot," the guard said. "We know nothing of his language and he, so far as we can tell, knows no Arabic."
"I am of the Bani Ibrim," I spoke my tribe proudly. "We live close to al-Quds and we have dealings with the Franks in the bazaar when we go to sell cheese and curds. Give me leave to speak to this Frank in his own tongue."
The guard's eyes narrowed. "You are a spy?"
"Fool," I retorted. "I am no spy. I am a True Believer, come here on the Haj. Nonetheless, if I can serve my religion by finding out what these infidels are planning, I will do so."
"Come," the guard said, taking my arm and leading me away from the gate and towards the other side of the courtyard from the wooden cage. He took me through a doorway and halted in a small room where three or four men were seated drinking coffee.
"Here is one who would speak to the Frank in his own language," the guard announced. "I think he is a spy."
The men looked up at me and then towards the man furthest from me, who was wearing a green turban, by which I knew that he must be a sayyid, a descendant of the Prophet, on whom be peace.
"He is young to be a spy," the sayyid observed. "Who are you, boy? From where do you come?"
"Sidi," I answered boldly, "I am Fuad ibn Hassan ibn Tahir ibn al-Hajji of the tribe of the Bani Ibrim. I am a hajji, not a spy."
"I have not heard of the Bani Ibrim," the sayyid said.
"Our tents lie between al-Quds and Jericho," I told him. "That is how I know a little of the Frankish language, for we sell the curds and cheese which we get from our flocks in the bazaar of al-Quds and there we have dealings with the Franks."
"And why have you come here?" the sayyid asked.
"I come to make the Haj," I replied. "I am of the Household of Faith."
"You are young to be making the Haj." The sayyid looked me up and down. "Are your tribe so wealthy that they can send even their children into Arabia?"
His words were a shock, but I laughed to cover my confusion. "Sidi, my tribe is poor and insignificant. That is why I took office as camel boy to one Harun ibn Mustafa, a messenger of the Sultan. We came as far as Aqaba, but these Franks prevented us going by the direct road into Egypt, so we came south along the coast until Harun found a ship to take him across the sea. As he will be some days before he returns, he left me to care for the camel and gave me permission to fulfil the obligation of religion."
The sayyid stroked his beard while he considered my words and then, to my relief, he nodded.
"Why do you wish to speak to this Frank?"
"Sidi, I thought that perhaps I might learn from him whether Reynauld de Chatillon, God's curse be upon him, is planning another attack on the holy places."
"And do you think the Frank will tell you this?" The sayyid sounded doubtful.
"Not if I ask him directly, sidi," I said. "If, however, I pretend to be his friend he may let something slip."
"What do you think?" the sayyid asked the other men and for a while there was loud discussion. I was relieved to notice that most of them seemed to be on my side. Only one man suggested that I should be accompanied by a guard while I spoke to the Frank, but the sayyid pointed out that it would accomplish nothing, for none of the guards understood the Frankish language, and their presence might hinder the Frank from speaking freely to me. At last he turned to me.
"Come tonight after sunset and you will be admitted. Speak to this Frank for as long as you think necessary. Even if you are planning to try and help him, we need not fear, for he is to be killed tomorrow. Tell the guard whatever you can discover and he will report to me."
He waved his hand dismissively and I thanked him and bowed my way out of the room.
