Chapter LXII - 1184
The next day I rode down to Jericho and made a short detour to visit Abd al-Wahid, both to tell him of the defeat of Reynauld's men and also that I might boast of my visit to Mecca. He received my news with joy and laughingly made me a present of a packet of henna that I might dye my beard - when I should grow one - as a sign that I had performed the Haj.
From there I made straight for my father's tents and as I came to the sheep's head rock I drew from my pouch the Meccan cap and placed it on my head, but the tents were not in the usual place beside the road. I had to search for nearly an hour before I found one of my brothers guarding the sheep and learned that they were encamped by Bir as-Sherif. I went there and in the excitement of my arrival no one noticed the Meccan cap until my mother came out to greet me.
"Son," she said, "what is this thing on your head?"
"Umma," I replied, "I have been in Medina and seen the tomb of the Prophet, peace be upon him. I have been in Mecca and performed the Haj. I am now a Hajji."
At that there was great excitement, for no one from our tents has performed the Haj for at least two generations. My father insisted on slaughtering a sheep in honour of the occasion and my brothers were sent to summon those of my father's brother's household, for they were encamped only a short distance away.
At the time of prayer I stood at the front and took my father's place leading the prayers. Then, when the food was ready and the plate of rice and meat was set before us by the women folk, I was put in the place of honour and it was for me to recite "The Opening" before we men ate and to say "Bismillah" when all had eaten sufficient.
We retired to sit around the walls of the tent and many times I had to tell the story of all that I had seen and done in Mecca while the boys and then the women ate what was left of the feast. I told of drinking from Zamzumma, of stoning Iblis, of circling the Ka'aba and of all else that I had done, save only I made no mention of Amalric and his death.
In the morning, despite the cold I left early, being eager to return to al-Quds and report to Sid Guy, for I felt sure that he would reward me for the news of Amalric. I passed by the tomb of St Lazarus and came in sight of the walls of the city. At the gate the guard did not recognise me and questioned me at length, but to them I merely said that I had gone to Jericho on an errand for Sid Guy.
It seemed strange to be riding through the narrow streets of al-Quds after so many days and weeks of the wide open spaces of the desert, but I found my way to Sid Guy's house without any problems. Fatima was in the courtyard, talking to Hilmi, and as soon as I rode in she ran up to es-Sid's appartment. Hilmi came laughing to meet me and take my horse.
"Fuad! Ahlan wa sahlan. This time we truly thought you were lost. Where have you been, for Aqaba is not so far?"
"I've been to Mecca," I explained, but before I could fully enjoy the look of astonishment on his face Trudy came running down the stairs and threw herself into my arms.
"Fuad's been to Mecca!" Hilmi shouted and Hamed and Babrak came out of our room and crowded round to offer congratulations as more people emerged from the house and the refectory.
"Mecca?" Sid Guy said above us and I pushed Trudy away. I stood clear of the others and salaamed es-Sid profoundly.
"Ya Sid," I said, "I hope you will not be angry with me. I have been to Mecca and performed the Haj, but I have also spoken to one of Reynauld's men who was a prisoner in Mecca and witnessed his death."
There was a gasp from everyone in the courtyard and a great silence.
"Bring him up, Trudy," Guy said. "The rest of you might as well come too and save him having to tell the story twice."
We all crowded into es-Sid's room and he sat at the table with a cup of wine before him. The others sat on the floor or stood leaning against the wall while I told of how I had gone to Aqaba and why I had gone beyond. Several times Guy interrupted me to ask me about this thing or that and Truy asked even more questions, but I was used to the Frankish ways and it no longer seemed as strange to me as it once had for a woman to be speaking in the presence of men.
When I told of Amalric, however, Trudy fell silent and when I described the manner of his death she began to sob and the tears ran down her cheeks - and within moments the other girls were also weeping. I stopped in confusion.
"Sitt," I said, "Was this man known to you?"
Sid Guy shook his head. "I don't think so, Fuad. It is the nature of women to weep when they hear such tales. You say that he came from Bordeaux? Hmmmm. I wonder whose service he was in? We must certainly try to give word of his death to his lord and through him to his family."
"I will find out," Trudy declared with determination, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I will find out, father."
"Fine," Guy shrugged. "Let me know if you succeed. Perhaps we can send Fuad to tell his story to Amalric's friends."
Soon after this, seeing as there was nothing of note in the journey back from Mecca, I ended my story and was dismissed. Es-Sid rose and called for his cloak and I expected to be summoned to accompany him to the palace but he went alone. I went with Hilmi, Babrak and Hamed to our room and Charles came also. Indeed, within a short time all of the Frankish squires and many of the women were crowded into our room and quizzed me again over every detail of my journey.
"I think I met this Amalric once," one of these Franks said when I spoke of his death. "He was only newly arrived from France in those days, in the service of Baldwin of Aquitaine, I think."
"Whoever he was, he died a true martyr," Charles said and then rose to his feet. He was holding a cup of wine - as were many of the others - and he raised his cup in front of his face. "I drink to the memory of a true soldier of Christ."
At once all the other Franks, both men and women, rose to their feet and raised their hands in a similar manner, even those who were without cups, and some said "Amen" while others spoke other words. Then those with cups drank a small amount of the wine and the others simply stood with bowed heads and downcast eyes. I looked at Hilmi and he shrugged.
"It is a custom of the Franks," Babrak leaned over and whispered in my ear. "This is how they show respect for one another."
"That's right," Charles said. "For us, this Amalric was a hero, a true ghazi. Indeed, perhaps he is at this very moment looking down on us from paradise, for he died rather than deny Christ."
One of the girls leaned over and touched the arm of the man who had claimed to have known Amalric.
"What was he like, this Amalric?" she asked. "Would he be likely to listen to a girl from Lyon?"
"Why?" the young man demanded. "Are you going to pray to him?"
"I might," the girl sounded defiant and her face went red. "My uncle is really very sick, you know."
Everyone fell silent and then the young man said, "Well, it's worth trying. After all, none of the other saints appear to be listening."
There was much discussion among the Franks on this question of whether it was proper to pray to Amalric or not and we four Muslims conversed quietly in Arabic, even though we knew that everyone in the room spoke it almost as well as we did.
"You have certainly had some adventures," Hilmi sounded envious.
"I appoint you prayer leader for the future," Babrak grinned. "In fact, you can be our muezzin and get up before the rest of us to give the call to prayer."
Hamed was silent for a while and then he turned to me. "Was Mecca as wonderful as they say?"
I considered for a moment, then jerked my chin upwards. "No. In fact, I felt very disappointed. I had expected that I would be filled with joy, but to be strictly truthful I felt nothing. It was like any other city; I have felt closer to God when praying in the desert than in the great masjid of Mecca."
Hamed looked troubled but he said nothing more and almost at once one of the Franks asked me something and the conversation became general again.
