‘I speak Latin, my lord.’
Reynald arched an eyebrow. ‘You are full of surprises, Saxon. Very well. Wait in the back behind those columns. Say nothing and keep out of sight.’
John slipped into the shadows of the side aisle and took up a position at the end of the hall furthest from King Baldwin’s throne. He watched as a wrinkled, bald priest in white robes embroidered with gold walked to the centre of the hall and slammed the butt of his staff against the floor three times. ‘This council is now in session!’ he declared in Latin. He left the floor, rejoining the other religious men, amongst whom John noticed William of Tyre, the young priest he had met at the fountain on his first day in Acre.
King Baldwin spoke next. ‘Welcome knights, lords, men of God, kings and queens. You all know why this council has been called. A second crusade has come to our kingdom, led by valiant King Conrad and brave King Louis. Some say the object of this crusade should be the great city of Aleppo. Others wish to attack Damascus. Tonight, we shall decide.’ He paused and licked his lips. ‘I will now hear arguments.’
Conrad, a stocky, grey-haired German, rose to speak, but before he had said a word, a voice whispered in John’s ear. ‘I know you.’ John spun about to find himself face to face with a blond boy, perhaps three years younger than himself. The boy had pale blue eyes and an aquiline nose. ‘You’re the brave one, the knight who took off his armour before fighting the Saracen captive. I watched from the wall.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Amalric.’ The boy leaned close and dropped his voice even lower. ‘You know that the man you killed was no spy?’
‘What do you mean? Lord Reynald said he captured those men spying on our forces. He said they were Unur’s men.’
Amalric burst into sudden laughter, and John glanced about to see if anybody had noticed. Amalric’s mirth faded as quickly as it had come. ‘Palace rumour says differently. I heard that your Lord Reynald raided a small village this morning, a village within the Kingdom of Jerusalem. He slaughtered everyone – men, women and children – and took those four “spies” as captives.’
‘But why?’
Amalric nodded towards the hall, where the handsome Raymond of Antioch had taken the floor. ‘You will see.’
‘Conrad says that we must march on Damascus,’ Raymond began. ‘Damascus is rich, as we all know. It sits on the trade route from the east to the Mediterranean, and both its markets and its coffers are always full. It is a great prize, but we must not be blinded by greed.’ There were cries of protest from Conrad’s and Louis’ men. Raymond continued, shouting over them. ‘Unur, the emir of Damascus, is our ally by treaty. He fears the growing power of Nur ad-Din in Aleppo, as should we. Do not forget that it was Nur ad-Din who led the army that conquered Edessa, and that Edessa’s fall is the very reason for this crusade. Each year, Nur ad-Din brings more cities under his control. His rise threatens us all – Tripoli, Acre, Jerusalem. Our kingdom survives only because the Saracens are divided-’
‘Not so!’ the Grand Master of the Templars called. He was a lean man, with short dark hair. ‘God protects us!’
‘Is that why you have spent God’s silver expanding your holdings and building fortresses, Everard, instead of spending it on the calling of your order – protecting pilgrims to the Holy Land?’
Everard flushed crimson. ‘How dare you? We built those castles to better protect God’s children!’
‘If you truly wish to protect His children, then you will do as I say!’ Raymond shouted back, struggling now to be heard over the clamour of the Templar knights and the German king Conrad’s men. ‘If we attack Damascus, then we will force Emir Unur to join with Nur ad-Din. We will be sewing the seeds of our own destruction!’ Raymond’s men stomped their feet in approval.
King Louis stood and waited for the rumbling to subside. ‘You speak of Unur as a great ally, a friend. You say he is bound to us by treaty. And yet, this very morning his spies were found outside our walls! This is not the act of a friend. Unur has pissed all over your precious treaty!’ Chaos erupted as Raymond’s men yelled out in protest, and Louis’s men shouted back. Louis raised his hand, calling for silence. ‘We would be fools to trust this godless heathen. If we march north on Aleppo, then what is to stop him from betraying us and attacking Jerusalem while we are gone?’
‘Hear, hear!’ Louis’ men were seconded by Conrad’s nobles and the Templars.
‘See!’ Amalric whispered to John.
John nodded. The ‘spies’ were a ploy to convince the council to move on Damascus. Reynald had held the tournament to eliminate the only witnesses. ‘How do you know these things?’ he demanded. ‘Who are you?’
Amalric placed a finger to his lips. ‘ Shhhh. ’ He nodded back towards the council floor. ‘There’s more. Watch King Baldwin.’
Baldwin was shifting nervously on his throne while Raymond concluded: ‘If we attack Aleppo, we can crush Nur ad-Din before he grows too powerful. But if we attack Damascus, we will force our enemies to join together.’
‘Then we can defeat them all at once!’ Conrad declared, and the assembled knights roared their approval.
Raymond turned from the German king in disgust. ‘What say you, Queen Melisende?’
The hall quieted. ‘This crusade was called to avenge the loss of Edessa,’ she said, her sharp voice filling the hall. ‘Taking Aleppo will stop Nur ad-Din and allow us to reclaim Edessa. I say we strike there.’
‘I say differently,’ King Baldwin declared. Melisende sat forward, clearly surprised. ‘Aleppo is far. Attacking it will leave our kingdom vulnerable. After today’s incident with Unur’s spies, I do not believe we can take such a risk. Damascus is close and rich. Once we take it, then we will have wealth enough to hire all the men we need. We will be able to take Aleppo at our leisure.’
‘You speak out of turn, Son,’ Melisende reprimanded.
Baldwin hesitated, his tongue flicking over his lips. He looked to King Louis, then to Reynald, who nodded encouragement. Baldwin swallowed and spoke: ‘No, mother. I am the King. It shall be as I say.’
‘To Damascus!’ King Louis shouted.
His cry was echoed throughout the hall. ‘ Damascus! Damascus!’
‘No! No! No!’ Raymond shouted, his face red. ‘You damned greedy bastards! If you move on Damascus, then you will do so without me!’ He looked to Baldwin. ‘Think well on that, King.’
All eyes turned to Baldwin. He said only one word. ‘Damascus.’ The hall exploded into confusion as half the men present roared their approval, the other half their anger. Fights broke out on the floor between Raymond’s and Louis’s men. In the confusion, Raymond stormed from the hall. John noted that Eleanor began to rise to follow him, but Louis grabbed her arm, holding her down.
Baldwin also left, striding down the middle of the hall. He stopped near the exit and turned to Amalric. ‘Come, Brother. We have work to do.’
Giving John a wink, Amalric followed Baldwin from the hall.
Shocked, John stood staring after the boy until Reynald came up and clapped him on the back. ‘Let’s get back to camp,’ he said. ‘We’ve got to pack for Damascus.’
‘Damascus,’ John whispered. Back in England, men returned from the first crusade had spoken of it as a fabulous city, second only to Jerusalem. ‘It will be a great victory for God.’
Reynald grinned. ‘Yes. And it will make us rich!’
Chapter 3
Yusuf buckled his new sword belt tight about his waist and drew the curved blade, marvelling at its beauty. It had been made not far from the room where he now stood, in the famed forges of Damascus, and the bright steel was covered with interlacing patterns of darker grey. Yusuf tested the blade with his thumb and winced as the razor-sharp edge drew a thin trickle of blood. He carefully sheathed the sword, then pulled on the conical
