When they rode off almost the same ceremonies were conducted as when they arrived; the Bedouin warriors rode some distance at their sides with weapons drawn, but suddenly they all turned and raced back to their camp.
Arn and Siegfried then slowed their horses to a leisurely walk, and Arn began telling him what it had all been about.
First, they couldn’t come to a Bedouin camp unannounced escorted by a squadron, because that would be showing either cowardice or hostile intent. However, a man who rode into the camp without protection was both courageous and a man with honest intentions. That’s why they had been met by the warlike yet friendly show of welcome.
These Bedouins did indeed belong to Gaza, at least as far as the bookkeepers of the Christians and Knights Templar viewed the matter. But in the Bedouins’ own world it was inconceivable that a Bedouin could be the slave of anyone, and it was also said that Bedouins could never be kept imprisoned like other men, but would die if robbed of their freedom. Viewing them as slaves of Gaza was an almost childish conceit; if they even suspected such an attitude, their camp would have vanished into the desert. In the Saracen world the Bedouins themselves were the epitome of a people who were unconquerable and eternally free.
It was really all a question of a mutual pact of security and business. As long as the Bedouins had their camps within the borders of Gaza, they were protected from all enemies among the Saracens. In return the Bedouins protected the caravan traffic to and from Tiberias transporting sugar and building materials, as well as to and from Mecca carrying spices, aromatic oils, and bluestone.
The tribe they had just visited was that of the bride-robber’s, the young man named Ali. Bride-robbery sometimes occurred if young Bedouins were in disagreement with their parents. But those couples that ran away, because it was more a case of running away rather than actual abduction of the bride, had to submit to being banished from both their tribes; if they lived with the man they would be attacked by the woman’s tribe, and vice versa. It was a matter of honor.
Unfortunately the two Bedouin tribes had been enemies since ancient times—no one any longer remembered why—and their truce applied only as long as they remained within the borders of Gaza.
What Arn had proposed to the old chieftain was to let the two runaways be married according to the rules, and that this marriage would signify the same as peace among all of Gaza’s Bedouins. The old man, who was Ali’s uncle, had said that he didn’t believe that would be possible, since the enmity was far too deeply entrenched. Yet he would not oppose such a peace arrangement if the other side agreed to it, which he doubted. The small hope that did exist was due to the fact that both tribes had profited a great deal by pitching their camps within the borders of Gaza and concluding an agreement with the Knights Templar.
For a long time Siegfried was made quiet and thoughtful by what he had heard. The benefits for the business of the Knights Templar that came from the caravan traffic was easy to understand; all transport through the deserts would be impossible without the Bedouin caravans.
And as far as the economy of these savages was concerned, it was easy to see the number of Mameluke weapons and artfully decorated saddles that were to be found in the camp they had just visited. The tribe had probably never had such rich plunder as they found after the battle of Mont Gisard.
No, sighed Arn. They probably had not, and they no doubt wished for the victory of the Knights Templar against the Mamelukes more than the reverse, simply for that reason. Defeated Templar knights were worthless as prisoners and never carried any valuables on their person.
Siegfried was amazed that his brother Arn, who was younger than him, hadn’t spent many more years in the Holy Land than he had, and yet he’d been able to learn all these foreign ways: the animal-like sounds that comprised the language of the Saracens, as well as their barbaric customs.
Arn replied that he had always been interested in new knowledge, ever since he was a little boy at the monastery. In the cloister as a child he had mostly sought out knowledge from philosophy and books, but there wasn’t much of that in the Holy Land. Here he had instead sought practical knowledge, all the things that might be useful to know in war and business, which was often the same thing. And as for his complaints about the barbarians, Arn joked shamelessly, surely the Saracen doctors weren’t so bad, were they? Siegfried would be as good a warrior after his injuries at Mont Gisard as he had been before.
Siegfried opened his mouth to object, but he changed his mind. He had heard so much that he wanted to work things out for himself before he got into any new discussions with his younger brother, who was far too well informed.
The next day Arn rode out to the Bedouins of the Banu Qays tribe south of Gaza. Their camp was pitched where the hills met the huge beach near the road to Al Arish. He was gone for a whole day, but returned in time for completorium. During the evening wine afterward he reported the good news. Gaza’s Bedouins were going to make peace.
As springtime approached, the infirmatoriumin Gaza’s fortress was gradually emptied until only two knights remained. One of them would be lame for the rest of his life, and Arn gave him a position with the weapons master as a smith.
A couple of weeks earlier Siegfried de Turenne had returned to his fortress, Castel Arnald, completely recovered, as evidenced by his latest practice ride and rounds with the sword in Gaza.
Spring was a time to make preparations before a more hectic period began, since trade by sea was always cut back in the wintertime, because of possible danger to the ships from storms.
Arn divided his time between bookkeeping for the customs master, Koran studies conducted with the Arabian doctors, riding practice, and taking care of his horses. Since Siegfried had left, Arn spent the most time with his beloved Arabian horse Khamsiin. Other brothers probably thought that he was overdoing things in that respect, because he talked to his horse in Arabic, using intonation and gestures as if the horse could understand his every word.
The unusual thing was not the expression of love for a good horse; every Templar knight could understand that. But horses were the most susceptible to the enemy’s arrows, and yet the fortress master’s steed had managed to survive as long as it had. That was with the horse he rode closest to the enemy’s archers, when he led the Templars’ light cavalry, the Turcopoles, against the enemy mounted archers. He rode the Frankish stallion Ardent, for whom he clearly did not feel the same personal affection, in the heavy armored attacks.
With the arrival of spring more ships came to Gaza, now and then with a load of newly recruited riders and sergeants. It was always the same pitiable scene when the pale men hobbled ashore, their legs wobbly after their many weeks at sea. These loads of troops usually came all the way from Marseille or Montpellier.
Arn and his weapons master took turns holding welcome ceremonies for sergeants and brand-new knights, for now almost any newcomer could be dubbed a knight over in the preceptories of France without any preceding probationary year as a sergeant. This meant that they received a number of tenderfeet, who were allowed to wear the white mantle and then had to be treated as fully accepted brothers. This required a good deal of conciliatory mediation, for the tenderfeet often had an exaggerated notion of themselves, their courage and ability. Even worse, their idea of what these more or less imaginary characteristics could be used for seldom corresponded to reality.
Easier to handle in this regard were the new sergeants, who were often older and rawer types with greater experience in war, but lacking the nobility required to become a knight.