Chapter LXXXVII
I had the third watch and when Hamed woke me the noise from the battleground was continuous - screams from men and horses as the arrows struck home, shouts as orders were given or sought, yells as men attacked or counter-attacked in the darkness. There was nothing I could do but sit and watch and hope that Sid Guy and Charles and Phillipe, Louis, Konrad, Karl and all those others were somehow safe.
After I had been there for an hour or so a party of men passed close to us and one said something about our horses. At once I rose to my feet and challenged them, to show that the horses were not strays to be picked up by anyone who passed.
"Peace, brother," the men called back. "We are on our way to smoke out those infidels."
"What?" I demanded. "What do you mean?"
I walked towards them and they halted and waited for me.
"We have fire," one of them explained, holding up the smoking pot he was carrying. "The Sultan, God defend him, has ordered us to go round to windward of the horns and set fire to the grass."
"What are these horns?" I asked.
"The Horns of Hattin," the man replied. "That is the name of the hill on which the Ferangis have taken refuge. Inshallah the fire will drive them from the hill and then we shall destroy them."
"Inshallah," I responded, though in my heart my hope was that God would will otherwise.
They went on their way and soon after I saw pinpricks of fire. Before long a line of flame was burning towards the Frankish camp, flaring up every so often as it encountered a bush or dying down to smouldering redness as it worked its way through the dry grass. There was much shouting from the army as the smoke blew across them, but the fire never became great enough to dislodge them and when the flames did reach the army they were small enough to be stamped out.
I woke Hilmi when the time came and told him what had happened. He shook his head.
"God knows that I bear these infidels no love," he said, "but there are those among them that I call friends. May God grant them succour."
"Amin," I whispered back and lay down to try and sleep for the hour or two until dawn.
I did not succeed, for as the night cooled it seemed that the sounds from the battleground became louder and more distinct and I could not sleep for thinking about my friends and what they must be enduring. It was a relief when Hilmi came and woke us all, for dawn was lightening the sky to the east and the Sultan's men were gathering for battle.
"I think some of the Franks attempted to break out towards the lake," Hilmi told us as we ate dry bread and dates. "There was much shouting in that direction not long after I came on watch, but I doubt any got through. The Sultan's men are not asleep."
The sun rose and we took our horses and led them in a wide circle around the hill. From the side we could clearly see the short ridge with a low mound at either end and the Frankish army clustered around the tents, which were pitched on the higher of the two mounds. After a while we halted and stood staring across at where our friends were.
"Why aren't they marching?" Babrak demanded. "Their only hope is water; why are they just standing there?"
We could give no answer and indeed it was strange to see them making no move to form up into line, that invincible line that had carried them through so many dangers. It is true that any attempt to move would have been difficult, for the Sultan's men surrounded the hill on all sides and filled the plain between the mountain and the lake and even swarmed up the steep slope on that side, but as Babrak said, it was the army's only hope.
An hour after sunrise, with the Sultan's men moving freely around the Franks in dense groups of many hundreds, a trumpet sounded in the Frankish camp. We watched as several hundred men in armour were helped to mount their horses. When all were mounted the trumpet sounded again and they pulled their visors down and couched their lances. The trumpet sounded for the third time and the cavalry charged down the slope to where the Sultan's men were thickest, but it was a slow and uncertain charge because of the steepness of the slope and the many outcrops of rock that covered the ground.
"Now watch!" Babrak exclaimed. "Nothing can stand against a Frankish charge. They will destroy those before them and the army will follow."
"Or they will themselves be destroyed," I muttered to Hilmi as I remembered Cresson.
We watched in gathering excitement as the Frankish knights neared their tormentors and, except that we were surrounded by the Sultan's men, would have cheered. Our excitement turned to dismay, however, as the Muslims scattered in disarray, their light horses dashing in every direction. Only one or two of the footmen did not get out of the way in time and they went down before the Nasrani onrush, but that was all. The charge carried on for another few moments until they had reached the plain and then the trumpet sounded and the knights pulled in their horses and turned back to their encampment.
The way was blocked, for as soon as the Franks had passed the Sultan's men simply moved back into place and now they had a stationary enemy below them on the steep slope. A few men darted forward and began to fire their bows and I saw a horse rear and squeal as an arrow struck it. Several of the knights advanced, but hesitatingly, and then some command must have been given for they all turned and rode slowly away across the plain towards the lake, none hindering them.
We turned back to look at the hill. The army had not moved and the men were standing, staring after the knights as they rode away and out of sight.
"By God!" Babrak said softly. "By very God! They are lost. They are completely lost."
"Why?" I demanded. "Perhaps the knights have gone to bring help."
Babrak shook his head. "No, they have gone because there was no way for them to return. You cannot charge uphill against an unbroken enemy: you cannot build up enough speed and on such a hill you cannot gather any speed at all."
"But there are still thousands of Franks," I pointed towards the hill. "They are protected by their armour; they are skilled in arms."
"Footmen can never defeat the Sultan's army," Babrak said. "They cannot come at the horsemen, who will simply gallop away and then return to pick them off one by one - or more likely, ten or a hundred at a time - with arrows."
"And still they do not move," Hamed said, despair in his voice. "Why do they not move?"
We sat there while the sun rose high, waiting and hoping for the Franks to march out, for though they were weakened by the loss of the horsemen they were still many thousands, but the army simply stood there, slowly shuffling up the hill into an ever smaller circle and leaving a ring of bodies below them as their numbers were lessened by the constant flights of arrows.
"Come," Hilmi spoke up at last. "This is no place for us. We have tasks to fulfil. Let us leave here before we are hindered or someone wonders why we alone are not attacking the Franks."
We turned away and began to make our way down the dry brown slopes that surrounded the Horns of Hattin and through the swarms of the Sultan's men. After a time, when we were well beyond the armies, we halted and looked back. The king's tent still stood and below it the dark mass of men stood and fought and died.
"Look," Hamed said, "the Sultan's men are charging."
"By God, the Franks must be nearly all dead," Babrak exclaimed. "They would never dare attack like that if the army was still able to fight."
We stood in silence as the Sultan's men charged the hill and were repulsed, charged again and were repulsed again - but this time from higher up the Horns - and then charged for a third time and swept right over the hill top. We could see no details, only the big red tent collapsing as the horsemen rode over and through it.
"Well, it is finished," Babrak spoke solemnly. "God grant that Sid Guy and our other friends are taken captive. We must now go about our tasks. Hilmi, your way goes directly south from here. Hamed and I will ride together to the coast and there I will go north and he will turn south. Fuad, you should head towards the lake and turn south along the river. Don't forget Belvoir."
Hamed cleared his throat. "Sid Guy told us each to go to his own home. I don't know what the rest of you intend, but I am going to disobey him. After I have carried the news to the places he sent me, I am going back to al-Quds."
"The baker's daughter?" Hilmi asked softly.
Hamed shook his head. "No, Sid Guy's daughter and the other women of that household. We must see to them."
"I had thought of them too," Babrak said. "I agree with you. I will come to al-Quds as soon as I can, but it is no secret among us that es-Sitt favours Fuad, is that not so, Fuad?"
"Sid Guy has given me a commission to look after her," I said, feeling my face darken as I spoke.
"He was a good man," Hamed commented.
"May God grant that he still is," Babrak interrupted him.
"Amin," we all chorused.
"What will you do with Trudy?" Babrak asked me.
"Sid Guy told me to take her back to her own country," I said.
"That will take some time to arrange," Babrak told me. "Hilmi, you will reach al-Quds before us all. Take the news to the household at once and tell the steward to gather together as much money as he can, just in case our lord or any of the others still live and can be ransomed. Hamed, if you get there before Fuad, help Hilmi get things ready for moving. Pack up everything of value and get those donkeys ready to move. They can carry goods instead of pilgrims. Fuad, as soon as you return take es-Sitt and leave her with your family - no one will look among the beduin for a Frankish girl - and then return and help Hamed and Hilmi. Move everything out of al-Quds and down to Sid Guy's estate at Gibran. I will come as soon as I can and help you."
