Chapter LXXVI
That same day the gates were opened at last and all might pass in and out freely. I immediately got my horse out of the stable, saddled and left.
"Where are you going?" the guard asked when I came to the gate and I recognised the same man who had sent me from the walls.
"I am going to al-Quds," I told him. "That is where I am to meet my lord."
His eyes narrowed. "Ah yes, Sir Guy d'Orleans' squire, aren't you." He looked at me carefully. "Good. You go to Jerusalem. I'm sure your lord will be along very soon."
He turned and went back into the guard room and as I rode away I heard much laughter. I thought it best to ride along the same road as de Courtenay and the others and indeed the roads were the same almost as far as the slopes of Mt Carmel, but then I turned inland and urged my horse to a fast walk.
At first there was plenty of water in streams and springs and wells, but by afternoon I was in a dry land without water - and by God it was dry, so that it was nearly dark before I saw a village and I turned aside to seek water there. The men of that village received me hospitably and led me to a small spring where I refreshed myself and let my horse drink its fill.
"Is it far to Tiberias?" I asked one of the men who stood by.
He shook his head in the Frankish manner but spoke to me in Arabic. "La. If you rode to the top of Hattin" - he jerked his chin towards a small ridge above the village - "you would be able to see the blue of the lake in the distance."
"An hour if you know the way," another man said.
"Be careful if you try to go directly," a third man added. "The ground is very rough. Go back towards Hattin and find the road. It will be quicker in the end."
I mounted and rode as they had directed but at first I could not find the road and I turned aside to climb to the top of the hill of Hattin that I might view the countryside beyond. I rode up a steep slope and found myself on a piece of flat ground with a low knoll at either end. I dismounted and climbed the nearer hump, which was also the highest. From there I could look out over the whole country; in front of me was a brown line that I guessed was the road. To my left was a great cleft in the hills through which I could see the blue of the lake. Immediately below me, however, was the flat ground where I had left my horse, surrounded on all sides by steep slopes so that it seemed like a natural fortress or castle.
I went back down to my horse, mounted and rode towards the road, but though I pressed on as rapidly as possible it was still a long time before I came down a steep slope and found myself on the shore of the lake with the lights of a small town a short distance away on the left. I let my horse drink and then rode to the town, to find that it was walled and the gates shut.
I hammered on the gate until one climbed up onto the wall and bade me be off.
"Let me in," I told him. "I have an urgent message for Sir Guy d'Orleans."
"Never heard of him," the man retorted rudely, but someone spoke to him from inside the walls and he turned back to me. Under no circumstances would they open the gates, but they let down a rope and bade me climb up it. I tethered my horse to a stone in front of the gate and with great difficulty climbed the rope and the men escorted me to the house where es-Sid was staying.
"Fuad!" Guy exclaimed, leaping to his feet and coming towards me with his hands outstretched.
"You know this lad?" one of my guards enquired.
"Of course," Guy told him. "He is my squire. I left him in Acre with a lame horse. What kept you, Fuad?"
"Locked gates and treachery," I told him.
Guy's eyebrows rose but he said nothing until he had given a coin to the guards and dismissed them. He stood at the door watching until they had gone down the street and then he closed the door and came to me.
"Treachery?" he asked. "And keep your voice down."
I think that Josecelin's men must have kept Tyre and Beirut shut as Acre had been shut, for news of the capture of those cities had not come to Tiberias and when Guy heard of it he took me immediately to the castle and roused Count Raymond. I told my story to him also and when he heard of the noblemen who had come to Acre to Joscelin and gone with him to Jerusalem he was greatly troubled and messengers were sent to summon his council.
Although I was not of the council, I was ordered to stay with es-Sid so that I could tell of all that I had seen in Acre. I had to answer many questions and at first no one wanted to believe me, for many times Count Raymond spoke dismissively, saying, "Oh, nothing but bazaar rumours" - as, in truth, they were. He could not deny the capture of Tyre and Beirut, however, for while we were meeting a messenger was brought in, a man who had escaped from Tyre by swimming round the walls.
Even then Count Raymond found it hard to believe that Joscelin de Courtenay would deliberately act in such a manner, contrary to his good faith and his honour.
"My lord," es-Sid said at last, "these doubts can be resolved. Send envoys to Jerusalem and call de Courtenay back to his allegiance. If he rejects them, then you have your answer."
This idea was accepted and one of the other lords said that he had two Cistercians in his company, men who were learned, responsible, courteous, and whose cloth would protect them if Joscelin de Courtenay was indeed hostile. These men set out as soon as light appeared over the hills to the east and Guy sent me to accompany them, both as part of their escort and also to report on how they fared.
It took us two days of hard riding to reach Jerusalem and the monks went straight to the palace, but de Courtenay refused to receive them until the morning when they could speak to him before the whole council for, said he, he would not receive secret communications from any lest he be accused of treachery - ignoring the fact that his very calling of a council was treacherous.
In the morning the Cistercians took five men from their escort as guards and I managed to obtain a place as their groom - and when we got to the palace I simply walked with the guards and no one questioned me. We were not admitted to the council chamber, but from the door we heard most of what went on in there and I was close enough to see Gerard de Ridefort, Count Raymond's enemy, and the Patriarch Heraclius among them. I also heard a voice raised that made me shudder, for it was the voice of Reynauld de Chatillon.
The Cistercians delivered their message properly enough, calling on all present and Joscelin de Courtenay in particular to remember their oath to uphold the proper choosing of a new king and demanding that they do nothing until the High Court of the realm could meet and choose a king in the lawful manner. When they had finished there was silence for a moment and then the Grand Master of the Templars stood up.
"You have delivered your message," he said, his voice low and venemous. "Now you may withdraw."
"What message shall we take back to those who sent us?" the eldest of the Cistercians asked.
"There is no message," de Ridefort replied and the others murmured agreement.
The Cistercians stood for a moment as if expecting more, but when there was only silence they turned slowly and came out of the chamber and the men of their escort surrounded them and left the building, but I stayed behind, standing near the doorway as though my master was within and I a servant waiting for orders.
From there I could hear little more than low voices; the only time I could hear clearly was when Reynauld de Chatillon spoke, for his voice was loud and haughty. After a while, however, I was able to move slightly closer to the door and discovered that they were discussing, not the message from Count Raymond, but the details of the coronation!
"Where are the regalia?" someone asked.
"Here, in the palace," Joscelin de Courtenay answered. "The problem is that they are kept in a locked chest that requires three keys to open it."
"Who holds the keys?" the first voice asked.
"Well, I have one," Patriarch Heraclius replied. "The Master of the Temple holds the second and the third is in the keeping of the Master of the Hospital."
"Who is not here," Gerard de Ridefort said.
"He is no friend to Guy," de Courtenay remarked.
"I'll go and see him," de Ridefort said. "He may listen to a fellow knight."
Not long after this the council broke up and I followed de Ridefort out of the palace, curious to learn how he would fare in this matter of the key. No one questioned me as I trotted along behind the Master of the Temple and the six or seven knights of his escort, for one of them knew me and spoke to me by name, so I found myself accepted as one of their company.
We came to the Hospital and we of the escort stood in the courtyard watched by the guards while de Ridefort strode up the stairs and disappeared inside the building. The Master of the Hospital must have been in a room directly above us, for after a short time we heard loud voices and the man who knew me looked about and grinned.
"Roger de les Moulins," he remarked.
"Doesn't sound very happy," one of the other men commented.
We listened in silence and I moved slowly closer to the window to try and understand what they were saying, but they were speaking so fast and their voices were so distorted by shouting and by anger that I only understood one word in ten. Suddenly the voices reached a crescendo and something came flying out of the window above us and landed on the ground beside me.
By God, that was a sad day, for if it had landed but a handsbreadth to one side or the other it would have hit bare earth and might have gone unnoticed by the others, but instead it struck against stone paving so that it rang with the clink of metal and everyone looked around. Even then, if I had been quicker I might have put my foot on it and stood innocently while others searched, but I was just too slow in understanding that the metal object was not only a key but the key.
"Here, what's that?" one of the knights said, bending over and picking it up from beside my foot.
"Looks like a key," one of the others said and we all stared at one another in astonishment.
"I'd better look after it, then," the man holding the key said, slipping it into his girdle.
Just then the door of the Hospital slammed open and Gerard de Ridefort emerged with a face red with rage. He stormed over to us and mounted his horse.
"That fool!" he shouted, turning back to shake his fist up at the window from which the key had fallen. "May God damn his soul to hell for eternity."
"He wouldn't give you the key?" the man with the key asked.
"No," the Master of the Temple ground his teeth. "May . . ."
"But he gave it to me," the man said, leaning forward to seize de Ridefort's bridle.
De Ridefort was still spluttering demands for explanation as they rode together out of the courtyard. I was about to follow them when I heard a shout at the window above me and I turned to see a man whom I assumed to be the Master of the Hospital looking out. He called to one of the guards.
"Look for a key," he told him. "I threw it out to keep it from falling into the hands of that fool de Ridefort."
Whether he was telling the truth or this was a lie to save his face, I cannot tell. Surely he cannot have expected that a great lord like the Master of the Temple would come without escort, nor that the escort would be kept outside the courtyard like a band of enemies? The guards advanced, their eyes scanning the ground, but one man started up the steps towards the door, perhaps to tell his lord what had happened, and I made haste to leave.
