“Soon,” said Arn. “Very soon indeed. I shall go through the first conversations prescribed by the Rule as soon as we return to Gaza.”
“Excellent! Then I will make a visitation in person for the initiation, and I will be the one to give you the second welcome kiss after Arn.”
The Master raised his wine glass to Armand, and the other Templar knights followed suit. With heart pounding Armand tried to keep his hand from shaking as he raised his glass and bowed in turn to his four superiors before he drank. He felt suffused by a great joy.
“But right now the situation is critical, and it may be difficult to find the three days required for the initiation ceremony, at least in the near future,” said Arn, just as the talk should have taken a less somber turn. There was no comment, but they all shifted their attention to Arn to hear what he had to say.
“Among the three Saracens whom we rescued from a tight situation was no less than Yussuf ibn Ayyub Salah al-Din,” Arn began abruptly. “In the evening we broke bread and conversed, and from that talk I understood that we shall soon have war upon us.”
“You broke bread and sat with Saladin?” Jerusalem’s Master said harshly. “You ate with the greatest enemy of all Christendom and you let him escape alive?”
“Yes, it is true,” replied Arn. “And about this there is much to say, but the easiest is that he was allowed to get away alive. First of all, we have a truce, and second, I gave him my word.”
“You gave Saladin your word?” asked the Master in astonishment, his eyes narrowing.
“Yes, I gave him my word before I realized who he was. But now we have more important things to discuss,” Arn went on in the tone he used on the battlefield.
Jerusalem’s Master sat in silence for a moment, rubbing his fist on his chin. Then he pointed suddenly at Armand, who was now sitting with his gaze fixed on his lord Arn with wide, frightened eyes, as if only now did he understand what had happened, and with whom he too had broken bread.
“My good sergeant, now you must leave us,” commanded Jerusalem’s Master. “Brother Richard Longsword here will show you around our quarters and our part of the city. Then he will escort you to the sergeants’ night quarters. May God be with you. May I soon have the pleasure of giving you a welcome kiss.”
One of the Templar knights then stood up and indicated to Armand the direction they would be going. Armand stood up, bowed hesitantly to the now grim-visaged knights at the table, and left.
When the iron-clad wooden door closed after Armand and his high escort, a heavy silence settled over the room.
“Now I’ll begin,” said Jerusalem’s Master after a moment. “You know Brother Guy, who has just been made weapons master here in Jerusalem. You two hold the same rank, and the three of us have serious problems that concern us all. Shall we start with the matter of breaking bread with our enemy?”
“By all means,” said Arn lightly. “What would you have done? We have a truce, which is hanging by a thin thread, as we all know, and Saladin knew it as well. The robbers were the ones who had to be punished, not peaceful travelers of one faith or another. I gave him the word of a Templar knight. And he gave me his word. A moment later I understood to whom I had granted safe passage. So, what would you have done?”
“If I had given my word I could have done no differently than you,” agreed Jerusalem’s Master. “You worked here under Odo de Saint Armand, didn’t you?”
“Yes, that’s true, and it was when Philip de Milly was the Grand Master.”
“Hmm. You and Odo became good friends, I heard?”
“True. And we still are.”
“But now he is Grand Master, and that’s good. That solves the problem of supping with the greatest enemy of Christendom. Some brothers may be upset by it, as you know.”
“I do. And what do you think about this matter?”
“I’m on your side. You kept your word as a Templar knight. And if I understood correctly you gained some information?”
“Yes. War will be upon us in two weeks at the earliest, and no later than two months from now. That is what I believe I learned.”
“Tell us. What more do we know? And what can we believe?”
“Saladin knew a great deal: that Philip of Flanders and a vast host of the worldly armies and the Hospitallers are on their way up into Syria, presumably heading for Hama or Homs, not for Damascus and Saladin himself. But having learned of this, Saladin is traveling with great haste and without an escort south toward Al Arish, I believe, though he told me he was on his way to Cairo. He is not making this journey because he wants to flee the Christian army in the north. So his intention is to attack us from the south now that he knows that more than half our forces are located far to the north. That is my conclusion.”
Jerusalem’s Master exchanged a glance with his brother and weapons master Guy, who gave him a curt nod of agreement to his unspoken question.
War was on its way. Saladin trusted that his forces in the north were sufficiently prepared to be able to hold the enemy in place. If at the same time he could drive an Egyptian army up through Outremer, then he could penetrate deep without meeting stiff resistance, perhaps all the way to Jerusalem. It was a terrifying thought, but they could not close their eyes to the possibility.
In that case the first battle would take place near Gaza, where Arn was in command as master of the fortress. The castle in Gaza was by no means one of the stronger ones, and it was defended by only 40 knights and 280 sergeants. It was inconceivable that Saladin would stop there and beat himself bloody against the walls. With a large enough army and good siege engines he could take Gaza. Few castles were as impregnable as Krak des Chevaliers or Beaufort. But the effort would cost him much more than it would benefit him. No one took a castle of the Knights Templar without great losses. And if they won, there would be no captives of any value to make up for all the costs; such a long and bloody siege would also mean a great loss of time.
So Saladin’s army would probably bypass Gaza, possibly leaving a small siege force outside the walls. But what would be their next objective? Ashkelon. Taking back Ashkelon after twenty-five years would not be a stupid idea. It could be a victory of significance and provide a Saracen stronghold along the coast north of Gaza. It would cut off the Knights Templar in Gaza from Jerusalem. Ashkelon was a plausible objective.
But if Saladin did not meet particularly great resistance, and it didn’t look as though he would, what would prevent him from heading straight for Jerusalem itself?
Not a thing.
The unpleasant conclusion was impossible to avoid. Saladin had first united Syria and Egypt under one commander and one sultan, just as he had said he would do. But he had also sworn to retake the holy city, which the infidels called Al Quds.
Decisions had to be made. The Grand Master, Odo de Saint Armand, who was now in Acre, had to be warned. Brothers of the Order had to be called in to reinforce both Jerusalem and Gaza. The king, that unfortunate leprous boy, and his court riddled with intrigue had to be warned. Messengers would have to ride off that very night at full speed in many directions.
Because momentous decisions are often easier to make than small, unimportant ones, the whole matter was soon settled. Weapons master Guy left the other two alone to take care of all the tasks that had to be accomplished before dawn.
Arnoldo de Torroja, Jerusalem’s Master, had remained seated at the table the whole time he was leading the discussion and issuing orders. But after the iron-clad door had closed behind the swiftly departing weapons master, he stood up with an effort and gestured to Arn to follow him. The two men then crossed the big, empty space of the Order Hall, heading for a side entrance that led out to an arcade with a view. They stood there a while with their hands propped on the stone railing, looking out over the darkened city and taking in the smells carried on the mild summer breeze: meat frying and spices, garbage and decay, perfumes, incense, and camel and horse droppings, all combined in the same sort of mixture that God had created of life itself: high and low, ugly and beautiful, delightful and loathsome.