After a couple of minutes, Saphadin returned; he looked stern.
‘Melek-Ric, I have two answers for you. The first is from one honourable man to another. This is what I, Malik al-Adil, the one you call Saphadin, say to you. You flatter me; I would be honoured to marry your noble sister and the prospect of becoming an emperor of this ancient land is very appealing to a humble servant of God. However, I have another answer for you. It is from me as a face of my people and of Islam, as an Emir of the Ayyubid Dynasty, answerable to the Sultan Saladin and the Grand Caliphs of Cairo and Damascus. Your suggestion is clever, but no more than that; it is preposterous in political terms. More than that, it is an insult to Islam, just as it is an insult to your faith. I am sorry.’
Saphadin then bowed deeply to his host, bid the King goodbye and was gone. The Lionheart turned to me.
‘Well, my friend, I think I have upset my Muslim guest. At least he spoke his mind.’
‘I don’t think he is upset, my Lord. You proposed what he called a “clever” offer, one that would be perfectly acceptable in Europe; but not here, where faith makes men blind.’
‘Well put, Ranulf. Your words remind me of Abbot Alun.’
‘I wish he were here, sire.’
‘So do I. Diplomacy is our only option; I need to find a compromise to offer Saladin that will satisfy both of us and keep our respective spiritual guardians happy. I relish fighting battles for the kingdoms of the earth, but not for the Kingdom of Heaven.’
‘My Lord, you will find an answer. You and Saladin are both men of honour; between you, you will find a way.’
‘Thank you, Ranulf, I am greatly comforted knowing that you are at my side.’
The subject was never mentioned again – especially when, a week later, Robert Thornham arrived back from Acre with an answer from Queen Joan.
Her response had been very similar to Saphadin’s, but delivered in the harshest of terms – typical of the bluntness of siblings.
24. Jerusalem Beckons
After his daring plan for a future Holy Land fell on deaf ears, the Lionheart brooded for several weeks. His pride was hurt; he was certain it was a solution that would have brought lasting peace and could not understand why no one else saw it in the same way. Perhaps it was naive of him to think that the best way to end a conflict between mortal enemies was to bind them together in a shared future. It made perfect sense to him, but most other men were bound by convention and prejudice – two things that the Lionheart would hardly recognize, let alone be guided by.
I felt certain that the culmination of his torment would be a return to Europe, especially after he received a letter from his mother, Queen Eleanor, delivered by William Marshal and Baldwin of Bethune when they returned in the middle of May. The letter expressed her own concerns about the ambitions of her youngest son, John. Marshal and Bethune had extracted promises of good behaviour from both John and William Longchamp, but the situation in England remained volatile.
However, our prospects began to improve. At the beginning of June, the Lionheart summoned the Grand Quintet and myself to his new hall in Ascalon. Reports had reached us of reinforcements sailing from several ports in the Mediterranean. We heard that Henry of Champagne had raised a formidable body of knights together with a large force of Turcopole mercenaries, both infantry and archers, to help him take control of his new kingdom and was on his way from Acre.
‘Gentlemen, it seems that my attempts at grand diplomacy have failed. I have decided to revert to what I’m good at. We will attack Jerusalem. Summon the Templars and the Hospitallers and every Christian lord in the Holy Land. We will march as soon as the army is assembled. May has turned into June, and it’s hot enough already. Robert, you will go to Jaffa. When the European reinforcements and Henry’s contingent arrive from Acre, bring them on.’
We broke camp in Ascalon on 7 June 1192. It was a Sabbath and a mass was held for the entire army, celebrated by Hubert Walter, Bishop of Salisbury, and Rodolfo, Patriarch of Jerusalem, who had travelled from Acre in the hope of being reinstalled to his seat in Jerusalem’s Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Our mood was joyful; at long last, we all felt that Jerusalem was now within our grasp. The weather was warm, but not yet stifling. We were well provisioned, and progress was far quicker and much easier than our abortive attempt at the beginning of the year. Saladin sent skirmishers to hinder us all the time, but we repulsed them with ease, giving the King much sport, which he relished with his usual abandon. By 9 June we were camped beyond Latrun, and the next day advanced to Beit Nuba. We were now only a day’s march away from our objective.
When news arrived that our reinforcements were assembling in Jaffa, the King issued the order to hold our ground and wait for the new arrivals. He was in fine spirits.
‘Five thousand men and Jerusalem is ours. Let us ride to Montjoie, and take a look at it.’
Jerusalem was an incredible sight; its walls, towers and spires gleamed white in the distance through a shimmer of heat. The Dome of the Rock towered over the city, the orb of its golden roof glowing in the sunlight with almost the same intensity as the sun itself. To its right was Solomon’s Temple, once the home of the Knights Templar, of which Earl Harold had been one of the nine, now legendary, founding members. I saw the Lionheart gulp, and there were tears in his eyes.
‘So much effort and anguish, but there it is, the holiest place in the world. It is so beautiful, just as I imagined it would be, and far too precious for men to fight over. Would it not be easier for men to share it?’
‘It would, my Lord. But men are not easily persuaded, except by greed and prejudice.’
‘You sound more and more like Abbot Alun every day.’
‘Well, he was a good teacher, sire.’
‘Saphadin was right, sadly; my idea of a free empire for Palestine was preposterous. But it was worth asking, was it not?’
‘It was, my Lord. Remember what Hildegard said about men’s minds. Perhaps you have sown a seed that one day will flower.’
The King smiled; he seemed comforted by the thought.
‘I shall hold dearly to that possibility.’
He turned back to gaze at the Holy City. The tears had gone from his eyes, replaced by a look of steely resolve.
‘If the time is not yet here when we can achieve our objective by changing men’s minds, let us do it with the power of our swords. If I must fight for the city, then that’s what I’ll do.’
He gave Fauvel a gentle kick and was away down Montjoie’s slopes, no longer Richard the Philosopher, but once again the Lionheart.
On 21 June, three of our scouts appeared with news that would have troubled most generals, but not the King. A large army of Mamluk Muslim reinforcements, accompanied by a long baggage train of supplies, had been seen approaching from Egypt. The Lionheart was stirred by the information.
‘Instead of kicking our heels, we have some sport! Ranulf, summon five hundred knights and muster a thousand cavalry. Ask Burgundy to join us with his French. The rest can stay here with William and Mercadier.’
It did not take long to reach the Mamluk column to Jerusalem’s south-west. Their dust was obvious from several miles away, and the King ordered that we rest just beyond the settlement of Beit Jala. He gave instructions that the men should try to sleep during the evening; reveille was to be called at 3 a.m. While the men rested, the King, Robert, Baldwin and I dressed as Bedouin and made a reconnaissance of the Muslim camp. It was indeed a significant force. We estimated 3,000 assorted light cavalry, 6,000 infantry and a baggage train of carts too numerous to count in the fading light.
The King explained his tactics clearly and concisely, as usual.
