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. Hestopped 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
JULY 1148: DAMASCUS
Y usuf 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 helmet that his father had given him. It was too large: only his ears kept the hard iron from sinking down over his eyes. Yusuf stepped in front of the polished bronze mirror in his room and frowned. The slate-grey chainmail that he wore was too long, covering his hands and hanging well below his knees, and the tip of the sword hanging from his waist almost touched the ground.
Turan entered behind Yusuf. His new armour was a perfect fit. ‘You look like a scarecrow,’ Turan smirked, and he slapped Yusuf on the back of the head so that his helmet slid down over his eyes.
Ayub stepped into the doorway. ‘You look a true warrior, Turan.’ Yusuf pushed up his helmet to see Turan grinning proudly. Ayub looked at Yusuf and frowned.
‘When will we fight the Christians, Father?’ Turan asked.
‘Inshallah, you will not have to fight, not if Emir Unur finally acknowledges Nur ad-Din as his overlord in return for aidagainst the Christians. I only pray that Nur ad-Din arrives before the Franks.’
‘If Nur ad-Din becomes Unur’s overlord, will he force the emir to return Baalbek to you?’ Yusuf asked.
‘Perhaps. In time, I might even be given something more.’ Ayub cracked a rare smile. ‘But that is for the future. Now, we must look to save ourselves. The Franks are many, and if Nur ad-Din does not arrive in time, the city may fall. You must be prepared to fight, to the death if needs be. I will not have my sons taken as slaves.’
Turan drew his sword and slashed it from side to side. ‘I will kill any Frank who dares stand before me.’
Ayub nodded. ‘If you must fight, then I am certain you will bring honour to our family. Now come. It is time that you both begin your
‘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. Hestopped 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
JULY 1148: DAMASCUS
Y usuf 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 helmet that his father had given him. It was too large: only his ears kept the hard iron from sinking down over his eyes. Yusuf stepped in front of the polished bronze mirror in his room and frowned. The slate-grey chainmail that he wore was too long, covering his hands and hanging well below his knees, and the tip of the sword hanging from his waist almost touched the ground.
Turan entered behind Yusuf. His new armour was a perfect fit. ‘You look like a scarecrow,’ Turan smirked, and he slapped Yusuf on the back of the head so that his helmet slid down over his eyes.
Ayub stepped into the doorway. ‘You look a true warrior, Turan.’ Yusuf pushed up his helmet to see Turan grinning proudly. Ayub looked at Yusuf and frowned.
‘When will we fight the Christians, Father?’ Turan asked.
‘Inshallah, you will not have to fight, not if Emir Unur finally acknowledges Nur ad-Din as his overlord in return for aidagainst the Christians. I only pray that Nur ad-Din arrives before the Franks.’
‘If Nur ad-Din becomes Unur’s overlord, will he force the emir to return Baalbek to you?’ Yusuf asked.
‘Perhaps. In time, I might even be given something more.’ Ayub cracked a rare smile. ‘But that is for the future. Now, we must look to save ourselves. The Franks are many, and if Nur ad-Din does not arrive in time, the city may fall. You must be prepared to fight, to the death if needs be. I will not have my sons taken as slaves.’
Turan drew his sword and slashed it from side to side. ‘I will kill any Frank who dares stand before me.’
Ayub nodded. ‘If you must fight, then I am certain you will bring honour to our family. Now come. It is time that you both begin your
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