beast.
The Lionheart took a stride forwards, towards the Emperor; his prodigious height was suddenly more apparent, his warrior’s frame more intimidating. Dignified once again, he looked towards the Chamberlain and smiled at him.
‘My Lord Chamberlain, I am grateful to you for explaining to me why I have been held in captivity these last months. It is one thing to be held for a crime; it is quite another to be held without reason or charge. So now I know; I am grateful to you. You say that I am held on three counts, so let me respond to them.’
The Emperor looked ill at ease. He had clearly calculated that the highlight of his Easter Court would be the public humbling of a broken man. But the Lionheart’s sudden transformation was not part of the plan. The King turned his back on the Emperor and looked at men in the audience who appeared to have fought many a battle.
‘First of all, the taking of Acre. I make no apology that my standard was raised on the Citadel of Acre, and mine alone. The city had been besieged for many months by Leopold of Austria and Conrad of Montferrat, but my strategy and my army won the day and made the city ours. What man among you would not raise his standard in those circumstances?’
He paused to let his question sink in.
‘Duke Leopold had fought with me, and he shared a portion of the spoils to reflect the size of his contingent. But it was my victory.’
He turned, fixing his stare at another group of Teutonic warrior lords.
‘As every man here knows, a flag of victory is but one symbol of the courage of many, and so it was at Acre. The King of France’s standard flew on one of the towers of the city walls, over an area that became the French Quarter, as did the gonfalon of the King of Jerusalem.’
Then he smiled; he had the audience in his thrall now, like a Greek orator in the Agora of Athens. He turned to the Emperor and lowered his voice to add emphasis.
‘We raised the Imperial Standard of the Holy Roman Empire above the barbican of Acre. But Leopold was not happy with that. He wanted it on the Citadel. We met together to discuss his claim, all four of us: Leopold and Conrad; Philip Augustus, King of the French; and myself. All three of us rejected Leopold’s request – it was not my decision alone – and agreed that the status quo should remain. Leopold was annoyed and withdrew his forces from the city, so I had his Imperial Standard removed and returned to him.’
The Archbishop of Worms then stood and bowed to the Emperor before addressing the Lionheart.
‘My Lord King, can you verify your account?’
‘Of course, ask any man who was there. I see some in this nave. The Imperial Standard was not torn down, it was removed respectfully, with full military ceremony, and sent to the Duke’s camp, where he was preparing to leave for Europe.’
Amidst very audible mutterings, the Archbishop sat down and cast a questioning glance at the Emperor. The King continued his response.
‘The death of Conrad of Montferrat was a tragedy. He was by far the best man to succeed as King of Jerusalem and it was my emissary, Henry of Champagne, who took him the good news. He was killed shortly afterwards by the Assassins, a lethal bunch of Muslims led by a fanatic called Hassan-i Sabbah…’
He paused again, seeking out another group of fearsome-looking magnates in the audience.
‘Needless to say, Sabbah does not accept commissions from Christians.’
The Lionheart’s caustic ending produced peals of laughter that rang around the nave and gave rise to even more discomfort for the Emperor. The King was warming to his task, and now went on the offensive.
‘The final accusation, my Lord Chamberlain, is the most hurtful. Unlike your Lord, the Emperor Henry, who did not take the cross, and Philip Augustus, King of the French, who did, but then returned home, I and my fellow crusaders fought with all our might to free the Holy City. But after the tragic loss of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, and the return to Europe of most of his mighty army, our task was all but doomed from the outset.’
He glared at the warriors in the room. Many of them must have been with Barbarossa’s army when it returned. Some of them must have been with Leopold at Acre and would have left long before the army of the Great Crusade approached Jerusalem.
‘Despite being heavily outnumbered, we defeated Saladin’s army at Arsuf and came close to taking Jerusalem. Indeed, I had the privilege of seeing it from less than ten miles away. But we did not have the men to take the city. More importantly, had we succeeded, who would have defended it? It is a long way from the Christian coast and isolated in a sea of Muslims.’
The Chamberlain rose, attempting to bring the Lionheart’s tirade to an end. But the King glowered at him.
‘I am almost finished; this assembly must hear me out.’
He raised his voice so that it reverberated around the sandstone walls of St Mary’s and across every realm in Europe.
‘I did not abandon hope. We stalked the Holy City; we threatened Egypt itself. I sent a clarion call to Europe asking for more men. So did the Sultan Saladin. But his call for reinforcements was answered in droves from all over Islam. I waited and waited, but when the reinforcements arrived from Europe, they came as a noble few, rather than the mighty host we needed.’
Then he came to the climax of his tour de force.
‘And I have to say to you, my Teutonic friends, when I stood and stared at the walls of Jerusalem for the last time, knowing that I could not breach them, other than a few of your countrymen in the heroic ranks of the Templars and the Hospitallers, there were very few German faces beside me!’
His audience was stunned and uncomfortable.
The King delivered his coup de grace. He had recognized a face in the audience, a Hospitaller, distinctive with his white cross and black mantle.
‘Lothar, Lord of Schwerin, you were with us outside Jerusalem. Tell this noble gathering if anything I have said today is untrue.’
Lothar stood and spoke in a strong voice.
‘It was as you described it, my Lord King.’
The reverse of what the Emperor had intended had happened. He was the one who was embarrassed, not the King.
But the Lionheart was still not finished.
‘So I say to you all, what was I to do? Saladin is not an evil being, a creature to frighten children; he is an honourable man and a great warrior. He has a different faith, a belief that is a mystery to us – indeed, it is alien to us – and for that, he will, one day, have to answer to the one true God. However, because of the treaty we now have with Saladin, Jerusalem is an open city. Christians come and go under safe passage guaranteed by the Sultan. They are free to trade and, most importantly, are free to pray at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.’
The King then turned towards the Archbishop and his fellow ecclesiasts and spoke to them directly. He lowered his voice and became conciliatory in tone.
‘My Lords, esteemed Bishops, I think you will agree it is a far better outcome than many thought possible after the sad loss of Barbarossa.’
The gathering burst into spontaneous, animated conversation. They were shocked at what they had heard. The Lionheart’s eloquence had not only made a compelling case in his defence, but he had also concluded with a telling reminder that, if 100,000 Holy Roman men had not returned home after the death of their Emperor, the story of the Third Great Crusade might have been very different.
Emperor Henry’s face had become thunderous. He looked around, as if in search of the culprits who had given him false accounts of what had happened in Palestine. Fortunately for his future well-being, Leopold of Austria was not there to answer the obvious questions about his version of events. Almost in a state of panic, Henry beckoned to his Chamberlain to speak.
‘The Archbishop and his conclave will now deliberate on the indictments and report back to the Emperor tomorrow. A feast has been prepared in the cathedral cloisters; the stewards will assist you. Please leave in an orderly fashion, the cathedral is very full.’
I looked at the Lionheart. He was twice the man he had been an hour ago. Many of the gathering paid their
