English soldiers flush with victory, and speaking a language he did not understand, took Arn without delay to King Richard himself. To Arn’s relief he turned out to be a Frank rather than an Englishman, and spoke Frankish with a Norman accent.

King Richard the Lionheart was tall with reddish-blond hair and wide shoulders; he actually looked like a king, whereas King Guy did not. From the size of the battle-axe hanging on the right side of his saddle, it was easy to see that he must also be very strong.

Their first talk was brief, since it dealt only with the simple matter of cleaning up the battlefield. Richard the Lionheart wanted to meet with Saladin in person, and he asked Arn to convey his request.

The next day, Arn returned with a message from Saladin that any meeting between the kings was out of the question until it was time for peace, but Saladin’s son al Afdal would come to parley. Upon hearing this Richard flew into a rage against both Saladin and his negotiator, and he showered Arn with scornful accusations of treason against the Christians.

Arn replied that he was unfortunately Saladin’s prisoner. He had given his word of honor to carry out this mission to act as a go-between for King Richard and Saladin.

Then King Richard calmed down, muttering crossly something about what he thought of giving one’s word of honor to an unbeliever.

When Arn returned with the message, Saladin laughed as he hadn’t done in a long time. He said that a man’s “word of honor” was only as good as the honor the man himself possessed; it was as simple as that. When Saladin released King Guy without a ransom he had made him promise to leave the Holy Land and never raise a weapon against one of the faithful again. King Guy naturally had sworn on his Bible and his honor and before God and various saints that he would comply. And just as naturally, precisely as Saladin had reckoned with and hoped, he immediately betrayed his oath and was soon proving useful to the Saracens once again as he divided the Christians.

But Saladin’s siege of the Christians outside Acre was no longer going very well, since the English fleet was able to blockade Acre from receiving any provisions by sea. The starvation that Saladin had predicted would be to his advantage soon began to strike his own people inside Acre harder than the Christian besiegers outside the city walls. And it was obviously not a good idea to launch new attacks with cavalry across open fields against the English longbowmen.

Saladin lost the race against time. To his despair the garrison in Acre surrendered and turned over the city to King Richard.

Arn and al Afdal now had the heavy duty of riding into the conquered city to acquaint themselves with the conditions which the citizens of Acre had agreed to in Saladin’s name in order to surrender without continued strife.

After this it was very difficult to ride back to Saladin, because what his people inside Acre had agreed to were very harsh conditions indeed. Besides the city and all that was in it, King Richard demanded a hundred thousand besants in gold, the release of a thousand Christian prisoners and a hundred specific knights in captivity, as well as the return of the True Cross.

Not unexpectedly, Saladin shed tears when he heard these terms. It was a high price to pay for the two thousand seven hundred souls who were now at the mercy of King Richard. But Saladin’s people had agreed to these conditions to save their own lives, and honor demanded that Saladin concur.

Once again Arn and al Afdal rode back to the city known to al Afdal as Akko and to Arn as Saint-Jean d’Acre, which the Romans had called Akkon. Now the negotiations would become slower and more complicated, since they dealt with many practical matters regarding times and places and how payments should be divided up, and how many of the conditions had to be satisfied before the prisoners could be released.

It would take time to sort out such matters. But King Richard let the negotiators from the other side wait even longer, as he celebrated his victory, and allowed his army to engage in games on horseback outside the walls of Acre.

When King Richard finally deigned to speak to Saladin’s two negotiators, he did so with great contempt, saying that anyone who interrupted a tournament was hardly showing courtly manners unless he intended to participate. And then he turned to al Afdal and asked whether he was a coward or did he dare ride with a lance against any of the English knights. Arn translated and al Afdal replied on Arn’s advice that he would rather ride with a bow in his hand against any two of King Richard’s knights at the same time—a reply that King Richard pretended not to hear or understand when Arn translated it.

“What about you, captured Templar knight, are you also a coward?” asked King Richard derisively.

“No, Sire, I have served as a Templar knight for twenty years,” said Arn.

“If I offer your new master to pay me fifty thousand besants first and the prisoners we spoke of, and then release my Saracens before we receive the remaining fifty thousand besants and the True Cross, will you then ride against my best knight?”

“Yes, Sire, but I wouldn’t want to hurt him,” replied Arn.

“You shall regret those words, renegade, for now I give you Sir Wilfred,” snorted the king.

“I need a shield, lance, and helmet, Sire,” said Arn.

“You may borrow those from your Templar knights here in the city, or perhaps they are your former friends. I will see to that,” said the king.

Arn explained a bit listlessly to al Afdal what sort of contest the childish English king had devised. Al Afdal objected at once that it was against the rules to use any weapons when dealing with negotiators. Arn sighed that rules were probably not what the English king cherished most, as long as they did not please him.

Arn had no trouble borrowing what he needed from obliging brothers in the Templar quarters. Soon thereafter he rode out onto the field before the city walls, holding his helmet in the same hand as he carried the Templar shield, to salute his opponent. He was a bit hesitant when he saw how young and innocent this Wilfred looked, hardly older than his early twenties, and his face completely unscarred from battle.

They rode up to each other and paced two circuits around before they stopped face to face. Arn waited because he was unfamiliar with the rules for these games. The young Englishman then addressed him in a language he didn’t understand, and he asked his opponent to please speak his king’s language.

“I am Sir Wilfred, a knight who has worn my spurs on the battlefield, and I greet my opponent with honor,” said the young Englishman cockily in a Frankish that sounded most clumsy.

“I am Arn de Gothia, and I have worn my spurs on the battle-field for twenty years, and I greet you also, young man. What do we do now?” said Arn, amused.

“Now we ride at each other until one of us lies on the ground defenseless or dead or yields. May the best man win!” said Sir Wilfred.

“Well, I don’t want to hurt you, young man. Is it enough if I knock you out of the saddle a few times?” asked Arn.

“You won’t win anything by offensive speech, Sir Arn; that will merely cost you even greater suffering,” replied Sir Wilfred with a sneer that seemed to Arn well practiced.

“Bear one thing in mind, young man,” said Arn. “You are riding against a Templar knight for the first time, and we never lose against tenderfeet in such games.”

More was not said, for Sir Wilfred turned his horse and galloped back across the field, where he wheeled about again, lifted his helmet, and jammed it onto his head. He was using a helmet of the new type that covered his whole face and made it hard to see anything except what was straight ahead.

Arn also rode back to get ready, but more slowly.