The only sin that hadn’t been quickly forgiven in his life was still the one that was reckoned the greatest: the fact that he had loved his betrothed Cecilia in the flesh only a short time before such a deed would have had God’s blessing. For that sin Arn had done almost twenty years of penance. But still he had never honestly been able to understand why this particular sin had been the one out of many that could not be forgiven.
Nor had he been able to understand God’s intention in sending him so far away to the Holy Land. He had killed many men, that was true. But could that have really been God’s sole purpose?
The new patriarch of Jerusalem, who held the highest position in Roman Christendom after the Holy Father himself, was a man who effortlessly exceeded his own evil reputation. The patriarch’s palace stood adjacent to the royal palace and was soon known throughout Jerusalem as the place where they had turned night into day. One of his most notorious lovers was soon called the Patriarchess, and people spat after her covered litter whenever she came to visit the holy city. The king’s mother Agnes de Courtenay did not object that her lover the patriarch had other women, simply because she also had other men.
Exactly how the appointment of the new patriarch had come about remained forever unclear. Archbishop William of Tyrus was believed to be the obvious successor to the high position by all who understood anything about the struggle for ecclesiastical power. But he had not merely lost the fight with the sinful fornicator Heraclius when it came to the patriarchal throne. He also had to endure the ignominy of being excommunicated almost immediately after his painful loss, supposedly because of a long series of alleged sins which he had not committed, as surely as the new patriarch Heraclius had done far worse.
Archbishop William of Tyrus, whom history made forever infamous even as it decorously drew a veil over the misdeeds of Heraclius, had to demean himself further by making the long, uncomfortable journey to Rome to persuade the Holy Father to rescind the excommunication. In everyone’s opinion, it was quite certain that he would be successful in his mission. At the same time many, including Heraclius himself, assumed that the knowledgeable and ecclesiastically skilful Archbishop William would no doubt be able to reveal certain things that would threaten the new patriarch’s position in Jerusalem.
Unfortunately for the Holy Land, William was poisoned shortly after his arrival in Rome, and the documents he had been carrying disappeared without a trace.
Hence Heraclius had now secured the throne for himself as Jerusalem’s patriarch. Not even Saladin understood how well this situation would play right into his hands.
The cease-fire that was in effect at the time of William of Tyrus’s murder was now broken, and for the most common of reasons. Reynald de Châtillon could not restrain himself when he saw all the richly loaded caravans traveling between Mecca and Damascus that passed by his fortress of Kerak in Oultrejourdain. He resumed his plundering raids.
It was soon demonstrated that the deathly ill king in Jerusalem could not control his vassal Reynald, and thus war with Saladin was inevitable.
Saladin then crossed the River Jordan above the Sea of Galilee and began to plunder his way south through Galilee in the hope of luring the Christian army into a decisive battle.
Because Guy de Lusignan, the fool with the flowing locks, was now married to the king’s sister, he was legally the successor to the throne. That meant he was also the supreme commander of the royal army, which he would have to lead against Saladin himself for the first time. His task was not an easy one. It wouldn’t have been easy even for Count Raymond of Tripoli, who put himself and his knights under Guy’s command, more or less reluctantly, just as the Templars and Hospitallers joined in with a large number of knights.
The Grand Master of the Templar Order had entrusted the command over all Templar knights to his friend Arn de Gothia. The Hospitallers were led by Grand Master Roger des Moulins.
When the Christian and Saracen forces had their first hostile encounter in the Galilee, the irresolute Guy de Lusignan was plied with contradictory advice from all sides.
Arn de Gothia, who again had authority to make use of his Bedouin scouts, said that he was sure that they could see only a small part of the enemy forces, and that an attack would thus be foolhardy and exactly what Saladin was hoping for. If, on the other hand, they held their position and took up a defensive posture, then the light Arabian cavalry would have a hard time attacking. Or, if they did attack out of impatience, they would be quickly defeated, because the Christians had come to rely increasingly on many footsoldiers with longbows. They could send swarms of arrows a long distance, in such numbers that the sky would grow dark. A light Arabian cavalry that rode in under such a black cloud of arrows would be annihilated before it reached the front lines.
Some of the worldly barons and Guy’s own brother Amalrik de Lusignan, who had become the highest commander of the royal army next to Guy himself, advocated an immediate attack with all the cavalry, since the enemy seemed clearly inferior in numbers. Guy’s mother-in-law’s brother, Joscelyn de Courtenay, had also been given a high post in the royal army, and he too wanted to attack at once.
The Grand Master of the Hospitallers, Roger des Moulins, would have been expected to disagree with whatever plan the Templars promoted, as expected. But since he and Arn de Gothia had had a private discussion, he was leaning toward the opinion that an attack would be foolhardy. There was a great danger, he thought, that they might be lured into the same trap as at Marj Ayyoun.
In this situation the unreliable courtier Guy de Lusignan could not make up his mind in favor of one plan or the other.
Over time the test of strength ran out into the sand, so that neither side won. Saladin failed in his attempt to persuade all the Christians’ heavy cavalry to rush out to seize the first small quarry so that he could then lure them into the waiting trap. On the other hand, he had no plans at all to carry out the reverse tactic, to attack a well-armored Christian army with light cavalry.
As far as Saladin was concerned, this war that did not happen was of little consequence. No one was threatening Saladin’s position of power in either Cairo or Damascus; he had no angry prince to whom he needed to justify a failed war. And he reckoned that eventually new opportunities would present themselves.
For Guy de Lusignan the situation was much worse. By the time Saladin at last retreated without a decisive battle, because he could no longer provision his army, the Galilee had been plundered anew.
Home at the court in Jerusalem, Guy de Lusignan had a hard time defending himself against all those who had been part of the abortive siege and claimed they knew exactly how they could have defeated Saladin if only Guy had not been so stupid as to rely on cowardly Templars and Hospitallers. Guy had everyone against him; even his mother-in-law, Agnes, appeared to have acquired the knowledge of an experienced battlefield commander.
King Baldwin IV was now completely blind from leprosy and could no longer move. Nor could he defend himself from the lamentations that rose up around him. Guy de Lusignan was an indecisive and cowardly bungler, and it would be a disaster to have such a man as king.
Something had to be done, and time was short because death was breathing down the leprous king’s neck. He appointed his sister Sibylla’s six-year-old son, also named Baldwin, as successor to the throne. And he made Guy de Lusignan the count of Ashkelon and Jaffa, but with the condition that the count must live in Ashkelon and not make life miserable at the court in Jerusalem by his presence. With much gnashing of teeth and many harsh words, Guy de Lusignan moved to Ashkelon, taking with him Sibylla and her sickly son.