Lionheart's Scribe (14 page)

A tower was undermined so severely last night that this morning it seems on the verge of toppling. The king is so eager to see it fall that he has offered two bezants to anyone who can bring him back a stone. To do this a man must cross the moat, so the ditch is fast being filled in with rubble and all kinds of rubbish. Some of the people have become so crazed that they stand brazenly along the edge of the moat and throw stones at the walls, ignoring the arrows that rain down upon them. I even saw a woman with a bow standing full out in the open and shooting at the soldiers on the parapets above her.

Miraculously she held out for almost half of an hour before she was brought down. Her body lies where it fell. Perhaps the king should offer two bezants to the man who can retrieve it.

Yesterday more French ships arrived and have now blockaded the harbor. This means that the Muslim ships can no longer deliver supplies to the city of Acre, and the townspeople's stores must be running low. It seems that victory might actually be in sight.

The first day of July

The fighting has been stepped up. Every day now we attack the city. Salah-ud-Din's forces continue to harass us from behind, but the city offers less and less resistance. We are losing many men though.

The second day of July

We go from horror to horror. The air is filled from dawn to dusk with the cries of the dying and the agony of the wounded who lie stranded on the ground between us and the city walls after each foray. We live with the stench of blood, sweat and death in the heat of the summer sun. The flies are so thick they are enough to drive a man crazy.

The fourth day of July

Salah-ud-Din attacked with the dawn. This time he had no help from the city at all and our army repelled him with ease. The walls are crumbling everywhere and the moat has been almost filled in. This siege cannot go on much longer.

The twelfth day of July

The city has surrendered! The white flag was hoisted over the walls this morning and King Richard and King Philip have ridden triumphantly in. Of Salah-ud-Din there is no sign.

The siege of Acre is over!

The thirteenth day of July

I am suddenly overwhelmed with work. The king summoned me late last night and set me to copying out the terms of the surrender. The lives of the defenders and the soldiers we have captured are to be spared in return for a ransom of two hundred thousand gold dinars and the release of the thousand or so prisoners that Salah-ud-Din holds. The Muslim sultan is also in possession of the True Cross, which he stole from Jerusalem, and this must be returned. Messengers have ridden from the city to inform Salah-ud-Din of this agreement, but he has sent no answer as yet. Here in the camp, we await the sultan's reaction with a certain amount of nervousness, but with our forces in possession of the city he must give in.

So it is over—the first part of our crusade at least. There is still a long way to go before we reach Jerusalem, however.

I cannot help but admire the spirit of these men behind the walls of Acre. For two years they lived under siege and would not give up. I am not alone in my admiration either. I wrote a letter for King Richard today, addressed to the Pope himself, informing His Eminence of our great victory. In itthe king said, “What can we say of this race of infidels who thus defended their city? Never were there braver soldiers than these, the honor of their nation. If only they had been of the true faith it would not have been possible to find anywhere in the world men to surpass them.”

I wonder where Rashid is. What part did he play in all this?

The fourteenth day of July

The reports are that Salah-ud-Din is furious over the surrender of Acre and most especially over the terms. There is nothing he can do, however. He must acquiesce.

We moved into the city today. King Richard and Queen Berengaria have taken up residence in a tall three-storied house near the main gate. I think it must have belonged to the commander of the garrison. Maybe now the king will pay more attention to his wife. I have been given a whole room to myself! Queen Joanna occupies a smaller house beside it and Yusra dwells there with her. I have not been able to see her since we moved, but I will try as soon as we have settled into these new quarters.

The first order of the day is the reconsecration of the Christian churches. Our priests have started in on that with a vengeance. The king is firing off letters non-stop and my hand aches from the writing of them.

Apparently King Philip is demanding more than his share of the booty of this conquest. He and King Richard are arguing again. Nothing new in that.

As soon as I have the opportunity, I am going to sneak away and investigate this city for myself. What I have seen of it so far intrigues me. Never before have I dwelt in such a small, walled-in town. The streets are narrow and twisting. Already I have lost myself twice, just running errands for the king. The soldiers that garrisoned the city have all been taken prisoner. Those who will convert to Christianity will be given their freedom as long as they promise to stay and fight for us. The others will be imprisoned. I have heard there are vast chambers and dungeons underneath the city where they will be held. Those I must see! The ordinary citizens have been given permission to leave or stay, as they wish. Most have left, so our people are busily occupying their houses, but a good number remain. Already the marketplace has been reestablished and we are being supplied by the French ships in the harbor, which is just as well. The people here must have been close to starving, for there is precious little food available.

King Richard has given strict orders that the Muslim population here is not to be persecuted. He has learned from the lessons of the past, I think. He is even allowing them to pray as usual, but not in the churches that they seized from the Christians when they took Acre, of course. Those are the churches that are being reconsecrated to Christ.

The fifteenth day of July

The soldiers who converted to Christianity bolted for the Muslim army in the hills as soon as theywere set free. Their conversion was only a pretense, and no more prisoners will be given that option. The nobles here heap scorn upon them for deceiving us, but really it is no more than what our own King Guy of Jerusalem did. According to my good source, Rigord, when Salah-ud-Din defeated King Guy at the Battle of the Horns of Hattim, when Jerusalem was lost to the Saracens, Salah-ud-Din spared the king's life and set him free upon his promise that he would not take up arms against the sultan again. No sooner did King Guy reach the safety of his own lines, however, than the priests declared that an oath given to an infidel was worthless and delivered him from it. He has been fighting with us ever since. What is treachery to one side is honorable behavior to the other, it seems.

I have been dismissed from duty with the king for the day. I am now going to explore!

Later …

I have made a terrible discovery. But I will hold back and force myself to write everything down as it happened.

I stowed my writing materials away with glee and set out to explore, not even stopping for a morsel to eat although I had had nothing since yesterday evening. At first I was enthralled by the strangeness of it all. I am used to walls around a city, but not so close. The city of Acre is, in truth, a fortress, built on a promontory of land. On three sides there is water. The harbor is on the eastern side. It is wide and deep and protected from the storms and currents thatcome up from the south by a breakwater made of huge blocks of stones. It must be one of the finest and safest harbors in the world. A wondrous prize for our armies, indeed.

The city itself is a maze of streets, paved mostly with cobblestones. As I wandered among the market stalls the smells of cooking awoke my appetite, and I spent some of my coins on fruit and fresh, hot bread. There were also stalls selling pottery and weaving, copper and silver ornaments. Most of these stall owners are Muslim and seem to be prepared to live with us in peace as long as we leave them alone. They are selling off all manner of other goods as well, such as old clothing and bits of furniture, desperate to get money to buy the food and supplies that are now pouring into the city. These people have a hungry look to them. Truly, life in this city during the siege must have been hard. But now there is noise and bustle and liveliness. It seems a wonder that the memory of war can be obliterated so quickly. It was not so in Jerusalem, I warrant, after our crusaders took that city.

Many of the streets have arches running across them with yet more buildings built on their tops. There are layers and layers to the city, and the walls are old. I saw whole trees growing out of the cracks between the stones. The trunks jut out sideways, against the laws of nature, and then the branches turn and reach for the sky. Most odd. Flowering bushes cascade down the walls in many places, creating curtains of beauty. Palm trees and orange trees grow in green nooks and crannies. Altogetherthis would be a lovely place if it were not for the filth underfoot everywhere and the smell.

I am still reeling with the shock of my discovery, but writing this description down is helping to calm me. I will continue.

Soon the sun was beating down on the city unmercifully and I began to look for a shady spot in which to enjoy my fruit and bread. I saw a nook in the corner of an empty courtyard formed by the meeting of the outside wall with one of the street walls. Vines filled the corner and I thought it might offer a cool shelter. I made my way toward it and then saw that the vines were covering a small opening. A dank, damp smell assailed my wounded nose. It was pitch dark inside. I could just barely make out a few steps leading down into the blackness. Most mysterious. My curiosity was immediately aroused. I stuffed the bread into my mouth, tucked the fruit into my tunic and pushed my way through.

Once I was on the other side of the vines and looking down the stairs I could see a glimmer of light at the other end. That was all I needed to encourage me. I felt for the wall to steady me, and started down. The steps were rough and uneven. I had to go slowly to ensure that I did not trip. Finally I came to a level place and there the stairway divided, with one branch leading off to the right, another to the left. The glimmer of light I had seen came from the right-hand one, so I chose that. It was a short tunnel that burrowed through the stone of the wall, then ended in an opening. The wholepassageway smelled clammy and deserted. It occurred to me that probably no one had been this way for years. At the end an iron grate had loosened from its fastening and hung askew. I looked out the opening and then drew back as my stomach took a lurch. I was far above the harbor waters. The waves dashed in below me and hurled themselves toward the shore.

I retraced my steps and decided to try the other branch. Stairs led down toward the inside of the fort. I descended slowly and carefully, taking care that my treacherous foot did not cause me to trip. It was so dark I could not see at all, so I felt cautiously for each step before advancing. As I descended lower and lower I began to hear voices and what sounded like moans and muffled cries. The stairs took a bend, then ended in another grating. This one was firmly in place. I crept as close as I could to it and peered through.

I was looking down into a vast cavern of a room, dim and flickering with torchlight. Pillars supported arches that curved far above. Opposite me I could make out a doorway and beyond that yet another dark, cavernous room. Both rooms were filled with men and it was they who were murmuring and crying out. Some were lying on pallets, others were striding restlessly about.

They were soldiers. Muslim soldiers. I had found the dungeons where the prisoners were being held.

I knelt, allowing my eyes to get used to the dim light. I was searching for one familiar figure—a figure I did not want to find. After a long while, once I had scrutinized each and every man as closely as I could, I let out a sigh of relief. As far as I could see Rashid was not here. Of course, there were other rooms and many more prisoners I could not see, but at least I had not found him. Yet.

I cast one last glance around, then looked down. A man was leaning against the wall just below me. All I could see of him was the top of his crimson turban. As I watched, he walked a few steps out into the room, then turned and faced the grill. It was Rashid!

Later still …

I had to stop. My hand was cramping and my wick burning low. It is so late now that the whole city lies silent and sleeping. I cannot sleep, however.

Rashid must have seen the pale outline of my face behind the bars at the same moment as I saw him. His mouth fell open with surprise. Quickly I raised a finger to my lips and signaled him to remain quiet. Thanks be to God, he did. He collected himself, then glanced quickly around. There was no one else near and no one was paying any attention to him. Only then did he allow himself to approach the grate.

“Rashid,” I hissed. “It is I, Matthew.”

He had enough wits about him to amble slowly up to the wall, then turn and lean against it again.

“How came you here?” he muttered, so low I could barely hear him.

“I found a passage,” I answered.

“Does it lead to the outside?” he asked quickly.

“It does,” I answered.

“Could I escape through it then?”

I bit my lip. “The grating is solid here. I do not know if I could loosen it.” Even as I spoke the words my mind was racing. Rashid was a prisoner. An enemy. It would be traitorous of me to help him escape. I could not do that. And yet … And yet he had undoubtedly saved my life. Did I not owe him the same in return?

But my help was not what he wanted.

“I did not ask for your assistance,” he snapped, his tone as cold as ice.

I flushed. I knew he was remembering my refusal to take his hand in friendship at our last meeting.

“The grate is set too firmly in place,” I whispered. “Even if you could manage to loosen it, there is no way out for you. I am in a tunnel with two branches. One leads to a hole high above the sea, too far for you to jump even if you can swim. The other branch comes up inside the city. If you tried to escape that way you would be caught immediately.”