but lacking support and legality, it’s a long shot at best. The next in line in succession was little sister Isabelle of Jerusalem. She was married to a decent enough man named Humphrey of Toron.”
“I’ve seen him about. He speaks fluent Arabic, so Richard uses him as an envoy a lot. He struck me as being rather effeminate. Never thought he’d be the marrying type.”
“It was a political match. He was of influence. She was eleven.”
“Poor girl.”
“Actually, she adored him. He was uncommonly beautiful, immaculately groomed, well-mannered, every girl’s dream of what a husband should look like. And, fortunately and unfortunately, he had no interest in women.”
“Fortunately and unfortunately?”
“Fortunately, because she was eleven, and did not have to be subjected to any indecencies. Unfortunately, because when she was old enough…”
He trailed off, and the music gave a dying fall.
He was silent for a while, watching the embers burn down.
“It’s hard enough to learn about love from a husband in an arranged marriage,” he continued finally. “Her mother, Maria Comnena, was a Byzantine, and knew all too well the fine art of gaining power through alliances. Mama saw the future in Conrad and sought an annulment on the grounds of Humphrey’s effeminacy and Isabelle’s age at marriage. Since everyone knew about that when the marriage was first arranged, it didn’t carry much weight. But the Archbishop died, and Maria seduced the Papal Legate, who then approved the annulment. They gave this beautiful young woman to this ambitious, battle-scarred old man, and all of Tyre cheered. Humphrey was bought off with the promise of some land, and Conrad reigns in Tyre. But he hasn’t been coronated yet. Richard still favors Guy, Philip favors Conrad, the Pisans favor Guy, the Genoans favor Conrad, the Venetians just want their piece of the city, and it’s an ungodly mess in the Holy Land.”
He started playing again.
“Whose fool are you in all of this?” I asked, starting to drift off.
A mournful, romantic melody rose into the night sky.
“I belong to the Queen of Jerusalem,” he said. “I was a wedding gift.”
Five
“Tyre is a town that is like a fortress."
IBN DJOBEIR, 1185
W e met the first patrol out of Tyre at the springs at Ras el-‘Ain, a few miles south of the city. Aqueducts carried the water north. We were watering our horses for the final push when the riders hailed us.
I walked up to meet them, but their captain ignored me and proceeded straight to Scarlet.
“We’ve been waiting for you for two days,” he said.
“It was a complicated matter,” replied the dwarf. “But successful, as you can see.”
“Good,” said the captain. “We’ll take them from here. ‘’lour lord wants to see you.”
“In good time, Captain. We will refresh ourselves and see him when we are ready.”
The captain scowled but did not argue.
“Oh, Captain?” called Scarlet as the latter turned to take over the supply train.
“What, Fool?”
“I know the contents of those wains down to the last speck of flour. Make sure they travel these last three miles without loss.”
We passed through fields of sugar cane, then spotted the tents outside the city a mile later. The road took us through the middle of them as thousands of refugees went about the daily business of survival, waiting patiently at cisterns with buckets, stripping the countryside of anything they could burn for cooking fires, and carrying on lively debates in several languages.
“And these are the lucky ones,” pointed out Scarlet. “Saladin made a fortune ransoming them. Ten bezants a man, five per woman, one per child, all for the privilege of abandoning everything they ever owned to him. There are over twenty thousand people living in these tents, and Tyre’s been feeding them as well as it can for years.”
“The city is that wealthy?” I asked.
“The city depends on sugar, glass, and a mollusk the size
“I’ve seen him about. He speaks fluent Arabic, so Richard uses him as an envoy a lot. He struck me as being rather effeminate. Never thought he’d be the marrying type.”
“It was a political match. He was of influence. She was eleven.”
“Poor girl.”
“Actually, she adored him. He was uncommonly beautiful, immaculately groomed, well-mannered, every girl’s dream of what a husband should look like. And, fortunately and unfortunately, he had no interest in women.”
“Fortunately and unfortunately?”
“Fortunately, because she was eleven, and did not have to be subjected to any indecencies. Unfortunately, because when she was old enough…”
He trailed off, and the music gave a dying fall.
He was silent for a while, watching the embers burn down.
“It’s hard enough to learn about love from a husband in an arranged marriage,” he continued finally. “Her mother, Maria Comnena, was a Byzantine, and knew all too well the fine art of gaining power through alliances. Mama saw the future in Conrad and sought an annulment on the grounds of Humphrey’s effeminacy and Isabelle’s age at marriage. Since everyone knew about that when the marriage was first arranged, it didn’t carry much weight. But the Archbishop died, and Maria seduced the Papal Legate, who then approved the annulment. They gave this beautiful young woman to this ambitious, battle-scarred old man, and all of Tyre cheered. Humphrey was bought off with the promise of some land, and Conrad reigns in Tyre. But he hasn’t been coronated yet. Richard still favors Guy, Philip favors Conrad, the Pisans favor Guy, the Genoans favor Conrad, the Venetians just want their piece of the city, and it’s an ungodly mess in the Holy Land.”
He started playing again.
“Whose fool are you in all of this?” I asked, starting to drift off.
A mournful, romantic melody rose into the night sky.
“I belong to the Queen of Jerusalem,” he said. “I was a wedding gift.”
Five
“Tyre is a town that is like a fortress."
IBN DJOBEIR, 1185
W e met the first patrol out of Tyre at the springs at Ras el-‘Ain, a few miles south of the city. Aqueducts carried the water north. We were watering our horses for the final push when the riders hailed us.
I walked up to meet them, but their captain ignored me and proceeded straight to Scarlet.
“We’ve been waiting for you for two days,” he said.
“It was a complicated matter,” replied the dwarf. “But successful, as you can see.”
“Good,” said the captain. “We’ll take them from here. ‘’lour lord wants to see you.”
“In good time, Captain. We will refresh ourselves and see him when we are ready.”
The captain scowled but did not argue.
“Oh, Captain?” called Scarlet as the latter turned to take over the supply train.
“What, Fool?”
“I know the contents of those wains down to the last speck of flour. Make sure they travel these last three miles without loss.”
We passed through fields of sugar cane, then spotted the tents outside the city a mile later. The road took us through the middle of them as thousands of refugees went about the daily business of survival, waiting patiently at cisterns with buckets, stripping the countryside of anything they could burn for cooking fires, and carrying on lively debates in several languages.
“And these are the lucky ones,” pointed out Scarlet. “Saladin made a fortune ransoming them. Ten bezants a man, five per woman, one per child, all for the privilege of abandoning everything they ever owned to him. There are over twenty thousand people living in these tents, and Tyre’s been feeding them as well as it can for years.”
“The city is that wealthy?” I asked.
“The city depends on sugar, glass, and a mollusk the size
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