need of financial or personal support, he would do what he could to help him, often giving the infirmarers specific orders to help in a particular way, or summoning his stewards to dispense pieces of silver.
He was particularly effusive when he came to my hammock.
‘It is good to see you so well, Ranulf.’
‘Thank you, sire; Peter of Bologna did a fine job, but it’s not an experience I would like to repeat.’
‘Nor will you. There are not many men to whom I owe my life. In fact, most of them are here now. I have reinstated you to my command, but not in a combat role; you will act as a military adviser and be close to me at all times.’
‘Thank you, sire, but I like to think I can still fight.’
William Marshal then seized the chance to scold the King.
‘I’m sure you’ll have to, if you stay close to the King and he continues his ridiculous forays into Saladin’s territory.’
The Lionheart ignored the barb.
‘I don’t doubt you will be able to fight, but not as effectively. I don’t want to lose you, so you will not command a conroi but will help me with tactics and organization. I will send my best cordwainer and carpenter; I’m sure they can fashion you a new arm from leather and ash that will allow you to hold a shield.’
‘That is very kind of you, my Lord King. If I am to serve you, I would like to be able to defend you and myself.’
‘Of course; you will also be issued with new clothes, arms and armour and will have the pick of the stables for a mount. When we return to England, I will find some more land for you.’
‘You are too kind, sire. I am humbled.’
‘Not at all, I am in your debt. When I saw the Turc’s lance, I thought the Devil had come for me.’
Marshal seized another chance to chide the King.
‘Count your blessings. He’ll come for us all soon enough, if you don’t listen to those who know better.’
There was a sudden look of annoyance on the Lionheart’s face. He stood up and placed his hand on Marshal’s shoulder. Marshal was a giant of a man, but the King was just as tall.
‘William, you’re the only man in the world who I will allow to talk to me like that…’
He then paused. We waited, and a grin broke across his face.
‘And I love you for it.’
The two men embraced.
‘Marshal tells me that we have lost the good Abbot Alun and your men, trying to get the two Cypriot princesses to Constantinople. I’m sorry to hear that. Alun was one of the wisest men I have ever met; I would have given him Canterbury one day.’
I told the Lionheart the story of our fateful expedition, about which he was very sympathetic.
‘I’m sad to hear the girls met such an awful fate. They were very beautiful.’
I was desperate to tell him just how beautiful they were, and how much I missed Anna. But my sense of honour persuaded me not to.
‘I’m glad you came back. When I saw you again, I was reminded of the things that Earl Harold said to me at his estate in the Lot, when I asked him about my grandmother. I remember it well; he said that Father Alun would tell me all I needed to know when I became King. He said he would also tell me about England, and why it’s so precious to all of us. Sadly, he never did.’
‘He didn’t think the Holy Land was the right place, sire. He also wanted to give you some precious items that you will cherish. All but one of them are in a casket in the Vatican Vaults.’
‘And the other?’
‘I have it, my Lord, but it does not mean anything without the casket.’
The Lionheart smiled.
‘So, it will remain a mystery still? Are you going to adopt Alun’s mantle as the mysterious sage?’
‘If only I could. You should know, sire, that Alun was very badly hurt and in great pain. But he stayed alive by sheer willpower so that he could tell me what I needed to know. That’s why I came back, so that his promise to Earl Harold and to England could be fulfilled.’
‘Thank you for telling me. When we return to England, I will create a foundation in his name. But for now, get your new arm fitted. We leave for Ascalon soon.’
The King turned to leave. But before he had gone more than a couple of yards, he stopped and turned.
‘Ranulf, I want you to know something about Acre. Those Muslim warriors died very honourably, like soldiers should. I was responsible for their deaths, a truth that bears down on me every day. Saladin also carries his share of responsibility. I hope he thinks about it as I do. I did what I had to do, as you did what you had to do. I respect you for that.’
He then left before I had time to respond.
Over the next week, I was given splendid new clothes, maille and weapons by the King’s seamstress and armourer. I chose the new colours that I had promised myself for my pennon and shield – the legendary gules, sable and gold of Hereward of Bourne. However, the fitting of my new arm was painful.
The carpenter had carved a new lower arm for me. It had an iron hook instead of a hand and was attached to a cylinder of leather, like a heavy belt, which I could strap tightly to my forearm. Most importantly, he had made two dowelled joints with supporting straps that allowed me to fix my new arm to my new shield. Apart from the soreness it brought, it worked well.
When I joined the King’s command, he and his lords were debating their next move. It was mid-October 1191, and the weather was becoming wetter and colder by the day. Saladin was still destroying Christian fortresses and eradicating anything of any value from the countryside. In turn, our sappers were rebuilding as fast as they could – especially Jaffa and Arsuf.
The Lionheart paced up and down, talking loudly.
‘Do we wait until the spring to attack Jerusalem? I have sent messengers to Europe asking for more men and resources; they should be here by then. In the meantime, I propose we move south. We could occupy Ascalon and threaten Egypt; that would cause Saladin great unease.’
Baldwin of Bethune responded.
‘My Lord King, the men are tired and our resources are thin.’
‘I know, but we came here to liberate the Holy Land; we’re not going home until that has been achieved. For the time being, let’s leave a significant number of men here in Jaffa and move the main army to a forward position at Casal Maen, on the road to Jerusalem. It will test Saladin’s mettle.’
Most nodded their assent, but spirits were low. Everyone had been away too long, and winter was looming.
The move forward was miserable. It rained almost every day, and sickness spread through the ranks. It said much for both the men’s discipline and their regard for the King’s resolve. In the simplest terms: wherever he went, they would go; whatever he did, they would do; whatever he demanded, they would supply. He never shirked a challenge, or avoided an adversity; he walked through knee-deep mud, just as his men did; and he bore every indignity and hardship with the rest of us.
The most difficult part of any army’s journey is the transport of heavy equipment. Pushing and pulling the parts of our siege engines – especially the huge timber beams – became a nightmare. But the Lionheart was always in the thick of it, often stripped to his braies, just like his men, and happy to lend the power of his shoulder to the effort.
As we were too exposed to create field infirmaries, the sick travelled with us, but the King visited them every day. When he got a dose of diarrhoea – again, like the rest us – he used the side of the road as a latrine.
But the tactic worked, and Saladin withdrew his army closer to the Holy City, persuading the Lionheart to advance to Beit Nuba, only fifteen miles north of Jerusalem and not far from our encounter with the Turcomans of a few weeks earlier.
We made camp, but the conditions worsened and became no better than a winter in England. Morale plummeted, especially when high winds and snow created a blizzard, with drifts piled high against our tents. We could boil snow for water, but that was the only saving grace in dire circumstances. The cooks did the best they
