Chapter CVII
Thus we slowly passed along the coast of the lands of the Rumi, always with the sea on our left hand and the mountains rising on our right. Sometimes the plain was broad, sometimes it was narrow; often there were rivers to cross, for this land is well watered and there is no desert. Every week or so we came to a town and usually these were ports where ships came and went from all parts of the world, from Italy and Greece and from the lands of the Franks.
Alas, these lands were not peaceful and every city had a camp of refugees around it, people who had fled from beyond the mountains where the Turks now ruled and from where they raided the coast. We ourselves saw none of them, but twice in our journey we came across a group of these refugees streaming down from the hills, some of them bearing blood-stained bandages about their wounds.
I could not understand their speech, but Trudy could and she told me tales of how houses had been burned, young men killed, women raped, old men insulted. I felt my face grow dark with shame, for the people doing these things were of Islam and it was shameful for them to act like this.
Trudy shook her head when I said this to her. "Your Saladin is a most remarkable man and as chivalrous as a Christian," she told me. "In all other parts of the world this sort of behaviour is common and even we Christians sometimes behave like this."
To the first of these groups I gave a sheep and they ate gratefully and showered blessings on us for our kindness. The second, however, was in such terror that they would not stay to eat but behaved as if the Turks were on their very heels, even though we could see all the way to the mountains and the land was empty.
Meeting them and hearing Trudy talking to them led me to ask her to teach me some of their language and with her help and also the fact that all our dealings with the markets and the officials as well as the ordinary people we met were in the Greek language, I was soon able to speak Greek fluently.
By the time we came to Antalya Trudy was heavy with our second child and we went even more slowly than before. At Antalya we were advised to take a road through the mountains, as it would save us many days of travel and because it was cooler in the mountains and Trudy was oppressed by the heat, we went by that road, first climbing steadily up from the plain and then losing ourselves in a land of many valleys and hills.
It was cooler but also less inhabited and nearly every night the dog gave warning of the approach of wild animals, which we drove away by keeping a fire glowing. This worried me, for we had been warned of robbers and a fire in the night advertised our presence from a great distance. It was a choice between having a fire and being safe from animals or not having a fire and being safe from thieves. Every night, therefore, when we camped, I buried the waterskin with the treasure beneath the mat on which we slept, but truly I did not sleep much in those days.
Nevertheless it was the will of Allah that we should escape and after three weeks of such wandering we came in sight of the sea and that night I did not bury the treasure, but lay with it in our tent and me asleep beside it.
Alas, the road only ran beside the sea for a short way and there was no town or city before we climbed up into the hills again and though it was only for a short distance of a day's journey or so, we were not to know that. To add to our troubles, whereas we usually passed a spring two or three times a day, in these hills there were no springs, so that as night came on we were tired, hungry and thirsty, for there was nowhere where we could purchase food.
As we slowly followed the road up towards a pass we saw a man dressed in black coming towards us, striding along at a great pace and with a thick staff in his hand. When he came closer I saw that his clothing was that of a monk and he had a large pack on his back. He must have been saying his prayers or meditating, for he appeared not to notice us.
When about fifty paces separated us, however, the dog barked and at that he gave a great start and stood for a moment staring at us, his mouth open, then he turned and leaped off the path and began to climb the slope beside the road. Trudy started to laugh, thinking - as she afterwards told me - that he was one of those who are sworn not to look on a woman and who flee from any female, but I, desperate to find water, called after him.
"Ohe! Brother!"
The man did not even look back but carried on climbing swiftly. Thinking that he might not have heard me or might even be deaf, I left the road and ran after him and, being young and unencumbered, swiftly overtook him.
"Brother!" I called, snatching at his sleeve, and at that he stopped and turned to me, his chest heaving with the effort he had made climbing the hill.
"Brother," I said again, "Can you tell us where there is water? Our skins are empty."
He stepped to one side and looked beyond me to where Trudy and Mariam were standing beside the donkeys.
"Where do you come from?" he demanded.
I intended to say that we had come from Antalya but as I opened my mouth I thought that he might do more for us if he knew that we came from the holy city of the Nasranis.
"We are from al-Qu - from Jerusalem," I replied.
"Where are you going?" he asked next.
"We are going to the land of the Franks," I told him. "My wife is a Frank and I am taking her back to her own people."
He thrust his head forward and peered at me from beneath heavy eyebrows.
"Her people?" he said slowly. "Not your people?"
"No," I shook my head. "I am a Muslim."
"Praise to God and His Son Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed. "Follow me."
He turned to resume climbing the hill but then stopped and waited while I went down and fetched my family and animals. When we came up to him he started up the hill again and strode briskly, stopping every so often to allow us to catch up with him.
"How far, brother?" I asked when we reached the top and looked down into a bare, empty valley beyond.
"Over the next ridge," he replied, pointing ahead.
I glanced to our left at the sun, which was nearly touching the horizon.
"It will be dark before we get there," I remarked.
"I know," he said. "That is good."
He set off down the slope and I whistled to the dog and drove the animals after him. The sun set as we reached the bottom and if there had been a stream there I think we would have stopped and camped and let him go on ahead, but there was nothing and we had no choice but to climb the other side, following the monk with difficulty.
"Where is he taking us?" Trudy suddenly asked, speaking in Arabic.
"I don't know," I answered. "He says there is water on the other side of the ridge."
"We aren't following a road," Trudy observed and I looked around me in astonishment, for though I had not noticed it we were indeed in a desolate place, without sign of man or beast - no road, no path, not even the track of sheep or goats.
"I hope he is indeed a monk," Trudy spoke very softly.
"By God, so do I," I whispered.
I stopped and waited for the second donkey to come up to me and felt among the tent poles for my sword. I eased it from its hiding place and, while we continued to climb the slope I buckled it round my waist and made sure that it was loose in its scabard.
"You will not need that," the monk spoke suddenly from the darkness ahead and I realised that he had stopped to wait for us and, despite the night, he must have been able to see my weapon.
"I will not?" I echoed.
"Whether you need it or not, you will not be allowed to bring it into the community of God," the monk said. "You can come in without it and be welcome, or you can cling to your sword and remain outside, without water, shelter or food."
I felt my face grow dark as I unbuckled the sword and replaced it on the donkey.
"Good," the monk said, turning to start up the slope again. "We do not often receive strangers into our midst. It is because you are a Muslim that I am willing to trust you. Others we fear and if they come as close as you have come now, we kill them."
I laughed shortly. "Those are strange words, brother. All along the coast it is the Muslims who have caused fear and the Christians who give aid and comfort."
"Whereas we," the monk said simply, "would welcome the Muslims and it is the heretics who call themselves Christians that we fear."
