Siege of Heaven

I did see the mysterious and all-powerful al-Afdal that evening, though only from the distant corner of the banqueting hall where I ate. I suppose, having heard his reputation, I had expected a lean-faced schemer with a predatory hunch and hawkish eyes; instead, he seemed a jovial figure who filled out his robes, lounged easily on his seat and laughed often. He speaks constantly and says nothing, I remembered with a cold chill. The hope I had felt the day before, that al-Afdal’s arrival would hasten my return to Sigurd and Anna, had all but died when I heard Achard’s story. Though I could not deny a small spark of optimism when I learned, next morning, that al-Afdal would receive our embassy.

‘This time, you will do well to keep your eyes lowered, your mouth shut, and your feet planted one pace behind and to the left of my own,’ said Nikephoros, as a slave combed and oiled his hair. ‘The caliph’s palace is not a fairground — you cannot wander about it entertaining yourself as you please.’

I said nothing, but sullenly rinsed my hands in a bowl of rosewater. Nikephoros sighed.

‘I know you have followed paths where aggression is prized. But now you are in a different world, where humility and obedience are the chief virtues.’

‘I didn’t know I had joined a monastery again,’ I said sulkily.

Nikephoros gave a short laugh. ‘You saw how long those clumsy Franks have waited here. Do you want to waste as many months fretting away your life?’

I shook my head.

‘The Franks were fools to send their embassy when they did, when their army was mired in a fruitless siege and faced every prospect of destruction. Of course al-Afdal would not accept their alliance in those circumstances. Now that the Franks have proved their worth at Antioch, our proposal is more compelling.’

‘Do we speak for the Army of God?’

‘We speak for the emperor, and the Franks are his tool. Though it would be easier if their own emissaries were not here.’

‘Strange that we have not seen them before.’

Nikephoros snorted. ‘Do you think it was a coincidence that we met them last night? Al-Afdal permitted it because it suits his purposes. There was no chance in that meeting. Now that we are aware of each other’s presence, al-Afdal will seek to divide us, and profit by our suspicions. That is why we must finish our business as quickly as possible — if al-Afdal allows it.’

Footsteps in the hall outside announced the arrival of our escort to the audience. Bilal’s face appeared around the door; he gave me a sad, private frown, then bowed to Nikephoros, who was straightening the hem of his sleeves and did not notice.

‘The vizier al-Afdal begs you to attend him at his home.’

Whatever schemes he might entertain, al-Afdal had no need of the petty delays that the caliph had inflicted on us before our first audience. The litter-bearers carried us through bustling, unseen streets and set us down in a small courtyard hung with silk awnings to keep off the sun. Four fountains rose in the corners, and ran through green-tiled channels to a shallow pool in its centre. On the far side of the pool, reclining on cushions on a low marble dais, sat al-Afdal, and although he sat in the shade, the golden threads in his ivory robe still caught the sun like ripples on water. The sight was so unexpected and peaceful — a man enjoying the comforts of his garden on a hot day — that for a moment I completely forgot his power. Then I saw Nikephoros stoop to one knee in front of me, and hastily followed suit. Nikephoros did not offer the full proskynesis, I saw — that was reserved for true kings — but he held his bow several beats longer than was necessary.

Slaves brought honeyed wine and almond cakes, and al-Afdal’s chamberlain motioned us to sit. Al-Afdal did not say a word, but smiled kindly at us as he waited for the attendants to finish. I took the opportunity to study him: as I had seen the night before, he had the rounded figure of a man who enjoyed his pleasures unabashedly — though he would still sit easily enough on a warhorse, I guessed. His black beard was streaked with grey; the creases at the corners of his eyes gave him a benign, avuncular air, but the eyes themselves were as dark and impenetrable as onyx. When he lifted the cup at his side, I saw a fresh scar livid on the back of his hand, and I wondered again about the victory he had celebrated the night before.

He murmured something in Arabic, and the chamberlain stood. ‘In the name of the Most Illustrious Lord, the Counsellor of the Caliph, the Sword of Islam, the Commander of the Armies, Protector of the Muslims and Guide of the Missionaries, al-Afdal Shah-an-Shah — welcome.’

I thought I saw a sardonic smile play over al-Afdal’s lips as he listened to his titles — and it grew subtly wider as Nikephoros responded with the full litany of the emperor’s honorifics, taking great care, I thought, to draw them out longer than the vizier’s. When he had finished, al-Afdal sat back. It seemed strange that for all his magnificent titles he should not know Greek, when even Bilal had managed to learn it, but he spoke in Arabic and left the chamberlain to translate.

‘An embassy from the emperor of the Romans always brings honour to our court. And we have much to discuss. I have heard that the emperor wishes to forge an alliance.’

‘We have both suffered many defeats against the Turks — often because we could not unite against the common threat. Now that they are on the brink of defeat, they should not escape on account of our differences. We both have too much to gain.’

Al-Afdal smiled. ‘It is true that we have both allowed the Turks too many victories. But let us be honest with each other. It is neither Byzantium nor Egypt that has now brought the Turks low. According to what I hear, that has been accomplished by this army of Franj — the so-called Army of God.’

Nikephoros shifted uneasily on his cushions. ‘It is true that the Frankish armies have done much of the fighting. But it has all been on the emperor’s behalf. He called them into being, and they have sworn allegiance to him as their ultimate lord.’

‘So do you speak for them?’ Al-Afdal popped a sticky sweet into his mouth, rubbed his fingers together in a bowl of water, and let one of the slaves dry them. The question hung unanswered in the lazy air — though al-Afdal obviously guessed the truth well enough. He had had six months to learn all about the Franks from Achard, after all.

‘Only the Franks can speak for themselves,’ Nikephoros said at last. ‘But the emperor is a valued ally and he has. . influence. When he speaks, they listen.’

Al-Afdal nodded. ‘It must be hard for an army to provision itself so far from home. And if he asked for Antioch? Would they surrender it?’

‘The Franks do not want Antioch for themselves.’ I marvelled that Nikephoros could say that with such conviction. ‘They only need it as a staging post to Jerusalem.’

‘Ah, Jerusalem.’ Al-Afdal leaned forward and dipped a finger in the tiled pool, swirling it around until he had whipped up a vortex. ‘Have you ever seen Jerusalem?’

‘Not yet, my lord.’

‘I have. Until twenty years ago it was part of our holy empire.’

‘Your kindness to its Christian inhabitants then is well remembered.’

Al-Afdal ignored the flattery. ‘It is a terrible place, without water or comfort. But do you know what it’s greatest problem is?’

Nobody answered.

‘Too many gods. Even the pagan Egyptians would have struggled to squeeze so many deities into such a small space. The city cannot hold them. That is why only a fool would seek to conquer it.’

I could see Nikephoros struggling to measure his words appropriately. ‘The Franks believe they are ordained by God to retake Jerusalem.’

‘So Achard of Tournai has told me — many times.’ Al- Afdal smiled again. ‘And the Byzantine emperor? Does he believe that he too must possess Jerusalem?’

‘He is of one mind with the Franks.’

‘Of course.’

Nikephoros uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. ‘Thirty years ago, before the Turks came, Egypt and Byzantium lived peacefully as neighbours. When our pilgrims travelled to the holy places, you protected them, and when famine threatened the Egyptian harvest we sold you grain. The emperor wishes to return to that happy state.’

‘But only if he extends his lands to Jerusalem.’

‘If the Turks are eventually driven out of Syria and Palestine, it will be the Franks who have struck the most