Chapter LXXI - 1185
It was in the second month after Twelfth Night that the news came for which we had all been waiting.
"He has finally made up his mind," Guy announced as he sat down at the table and lifted the cup of wine Trudy brought him. "He's going to crown his nephew, Baldwin, next week."
"That baby!" Trudy exclaimed scornfully. "That will be a big help when Saladin attacks."
Guy grinned. "He'll shake his rattle at him and frighten all those big bad Muslims away."
We laughed and then Guy explained. "Actually, my dear, he is seven years old, so he's a bit old for a baby. Anyway, Raymond of Tripoli is to be the regent again and Joscelin de Courtenay will be Baldwin's guardian. Have you got anything suitable to wear for the coronation?"
"What about Guy de Lusignan?" Trudy ignored the question about clothes. "Is the king reconciled to him yet?"
Guy shook his head. "On the contrary, he is specifically excluded from the regency, even though the new king is his nephew." He laughed. "Raymond's going to get Tripoli as payment for his work as regent, so Guy's outpost at Tyre is surrounded."
"How healthy is Baldwin?" Trudy asked after a pause.
"The King?" Guy asked.
"No, the young one," Trudy said.
Guy looked serious. "I don't know," he said slowly. "He's not very strong; that's why the King is summoning all the nobles to a great council before the coronation. He's going to get them all to swear allegiance to his nephew."
"And what if Baldwin dies?" Trudy persisted. "The King doesn't have any other relatives, does he?"
"The King has thought of that," Guy said. "As well as swearing allegiance, the nobles also have to swear that if Baldwin dies before he is ten, the council must send to the Pope, the Holy Roman Emperor and the kings of France and England and ask them to choose the next king. Count Raymond will stay as Regent until they have made their decision."
Over the next few days the streets of Jerusalem filled with the great ones of the kingdom and their servants and retainers. Babrak, Hilmi, Hamed and I did not venture out of the house unless Charles or Karl or one of the other Frankish squires was with us, for some of these men were eager to pick a quarrel with any Arab or Musselman they saw.
On Sunday there was a great procession to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and afterwards I was sitting in es-Sid's appartment listening as Trudy told me all about it when Sid Guy himself appeared, his face grim.
"You'll never guess who has turned up," he said.
"Who?" Trudy demanded.
"The Patriarch," Guy told her.
"Has he brought help?" Trudy asked.
Guy shook his head. "Far from it, my dear. He comes alone."
"Alone?" Trudy put down the embroidery she was pretending to do. "What happened to Arnold?"
"Dead," Guy said. "In Verona."
Trudy's eyes grew large and round and I was alarmed to see that her face had grown pale, making the small brown spots on her skin look almost as red as her hair.
"How did he die?" she demanded. "I'll bet that Heraclius had a hand in it."
"I think that this time our beloved Patriarch is innocent," Guy said, sitting down at the table and beckoning to Fatima for some wine. "It seems he caught a fever and it carried him off despite all the doctors could do - those Italian doctors aren't a patch on ours, you know."
"Does this mean that help will not come?" I asked, wondering how I could get word of this to Abd al-Wahid in Jericho.
Guy shrugged. "I haven't heard how their mission succeeded, but at least the Patriarch's return is most opportune, for he must now swear along with the rest. I'll bet he's wishing the wind had been contrary, for he's friend to Guy and his party and it would suit him very well to have arrived after the coronation and be spared the oath."
Guy took the glass from Fatima and drank thirstily. "Roger de les Moulins, the Grand Master of the Hospital has also arrived, so he'll have to take the same oath. I must admit, that is good news, because now it means that all the leaders in the kingdom are bound."
"Apart from the Templars," Trudy pointed out.
Guy shrugged. "Their new Master, whoever he is, will have sworn already, so that doesn't signify."
"Have all the knights sworn?" Trudy asked.
Guy laughed. "Life is too short. No, all the important knights will have sworn, but you can't expect the king to summon every Templar in the kingdom for such a matter."
We could laugh over these plots and conspiracies surrounding the king, but the news was not all bad. Es-Sid was in the palace when the king received the Patriarch and heard from him of how he had fared in the Frankish lands.
"Twelve years ago," Guy told us when he returned, "the king of England ordered that one of his bishops should be killed, a man called Thomas a Beckett. By all I've heard, he had reason enough for it, for this Thomas was a fearless man who stood for the rights of the church against those of the king and sought always to extend them. Anyway, the church could not countenance the death of an archbishop and King Henry had to submit to a public flogging and pay a heavy penance."
"How does that help us?" Trudy asked.
"Because," es-Sid raised his finger, "one of the terms of his penance was that he had to pay for the support of 200 knights in the Holy Land for one year. He's finally paid the money - gave it to the Templars in the Patriarch's presence - and they'll see that it gets out here safely."
"We need men, not money," Trudy objected.
"We need men and money," her father corrected her. "Anyway, the Templars have built a new church in London and the Patriarch dedicated it and took the opportunity to speak of the kingdom's needs. As a result twenty or thirty knights have vowed to come out here at once and others have promised to follow as soon as they can set their affairs in order."
"What about the other lands?" Trudy asked.
Sig Guy shrugged. "Promises, I'm afraid. He says that he was well received and no doubt he was, but of actual men or money he has very little. He is rich in promises, but we've heard them all before and very few of them come to anything."
Alas even for this good news, for only a few weeks later Guy came back from the palace, his face white with fury. I was in the courtyard when he strode through the gate and passed me by without a word of greeting, his face so set and stern that I dared not call after him. A moment later I heard his voice raised in anger up in his appartment, though not so loud that I could hear what he was saying.
Nonetheless there was such a sense of anger and of something out of place that others began to gather in the courtyard and talk in low whispers and glance anxiously at the windows above us. After some time the door opened and Fatima appeared, glancing nervously over her shoulder as she came down the stairs.
"Ya Fatima," Babrak called to her in a soft voice. "What is going on?"
"By God!" Fatima exclaimed, her voice shakey, "by very God! Es-Sid is so angry I thought he would surely kill someone."
She made the sign against the Evil Eye and stood for a moment in silence, shaking her head.
"Yes, but what is the cause of his anger?" Babrak demanded.
Fatima turned to him. "It is nothing, nothing at all. He keeps shouting that Gerard de Ridefort has been elected Master of the Temple, but what is there in that to cause such anger?"
Several of the Frankish squires whistled and even Babrak looked grave.
"By the prophet!" Hilmi broke in. "This is deliberate defiance of the king and his counsels."
"Why?" I demanded. "Who is this Gerard de Ridefort?"
Babrak turned to me. "He is the greatest enemy of Raymond of Tripoli, our new regent."
"Why?" I asked again. "What is the cause of this enmity?"
Hilmi laughed shortly. "Many years ago, before you or I were born, this Gerard came to Palestine as a young knight and fell in love with the sister of Raymond, whose name was Lucia of Botrun. He asked for her hand in marriage but Raymond rejected him out of hand as a nobody and poor as well. Instead he gave Lucia to Plivano, a merchant of Pisa who is now lord of Botrun because of the lands she brought him."
"Did you know that Plivano offered Raymond Lucia's weight in gold bezants?" Charles interrupted. "They say that she weighed ten stone and some accused Raymond of causing her to eat a heavy meal before sitting on the scales."
We all laughed, but Babrak quieted us. "Consider," he said. "The king is like to die soon and this Raymond will be regent for a young boy. Against him will be the Master of the Temple, the most important military force in the kingdom." He turned to Charles. "Charles, my friend, if the Franks are driven out of Outremer it will not be because of the Sultan's strength or wisdom but because of the foolishness of the Franks."
Charles sighed. "Babrak, you say nothing but the truth. By our Lady, what can they have been thinking of to do this? I wonder if they were united in this folly?"
Fatima spoke up. "I heard es-Sid say that the election was very close."
"So we can at least hope that the Templars will be split over this. Who knows, perhaps some of them will be wise enough to overthrow this Gerard? A bit of poison, a sharp dagger in a quiet corner, the thing is easily done."
We all looked at Phillipe and Charles shook his head. "That may be the way you Italians do things," he said sternly, "but here in Outremer we are men of honour. If we wish to kill someone it is done properly, in open battle."
"Then perhaps we can hope for the Old Man of the Mountains," Hamed said. "Surely he can spare a couple of his thousand hashashin in Masyaf?"
"That would certainly be a solution," Babrak looked thoughtful. "Alas, I fear that old Sinan is wise enough to see that he can only profit from disunity among his enemies."
