Efrayim stood and gave a small bow of the head as de Capo nodded to Hashim and walked out onto the balcony, turning left towards the stairs leading into the courtyard. Leopold glanced at Efrayim but gave Hashim a cold hard stare before following his new commander.
Chapter Nine
‘He’s a traitor!’
Heads nodded and the low rumble as men murmured their assent sounded like distant thunder. Sir Geoffrey de Paganel scanned the faces crowded into the dormitory normally inhabited by twenty men and their equipment, but now packed by the fighting men of the Imperial Order of Jerusalem, ‘He’s a traitor,’ he repeated, ‘and traitors are condemned men!’
‘What does Leopold say?’
De Paganel glared at the man who asked the question but before he could reply another man spoke, ‘Aye, what does Leopold say?’
Several more men uttered similar words and de Paganel simply glared at them all until there was complete silence, ‘Leopold will be with us, he has sworn the holy oath to this order and to Reynaud as we all have.’ He spat on the floor, ‘I spit on the corpse of any man here who believes otherwise!’
The silence was evidence of the power de Paganel had over these men. He had been passed over for promotion in favour of Leopold despite having been part of the Order from the age of fourteen. Everyone knew there was a certain amount of enmity between the two. No one could best him in a fight although there were those who would favour Leopold over de Paganel if they ever came to fight each other. Despite the power he had, a few of the men still spoke nervously.
‘I want to hear him speak.’
‘Aye, me too, I want to hear Leopold speak.’
Several other men spoke up demanding Leopold join them.
‘Why isn’t Leopold here,’ said one, ‘if he’s with us, why isn’t he here?’
‘Quiet,’ snarled de Paganel, ‘Leopold will be here when he has finished with the traitor, then you will see what I have said is the truth.’
‘But the orders have been signed by the Bailli,’ voiced one of the doubters, ‘we break those orders and we risk losing everything.’
‘The only thing you risk losing,’ said de Paganel, ‘is your head!’
The men sniggered and for a few moments the tense atmosphere eased until a voice at the rear asked, ‘Why is he a traitor?’
There was absolute silence as everyone turned and de Paganel strained to see over the heads of the men in front of him until he saw the man who had spoken. Benedict Granville, man at arms had been with the order for three years, long enough to understand what their oath meant and long enough to understand de Paganel was not a man you wanted as an enemy. Compared to the grizzled and scarred de Paganel, Benedict was a contradiction. He was young, good looking and scar free, he was also a good fighter and well respected by the men he served with. He too was with de Chauvigny when de Capo stopped them spiking the Mameluk prisoners. Like the rest of his comrades he could be ruthless and merciless when he needed to be. He looked at the faces questioning his statement without speaking before looking directly at de Paganel, ‘He was following the King’s orders, so I don’t see how he can be a traitor.’
De Paganel stared at the younger man until he averted his eyes, ‘Who else thinks the same as Benedict? Who else thinks it is reasonable to make Christian knights and men at arms lose face in front of the enemy? Who else thinks it is right the bastard who now commands us should have let the prisoners go? We will have to face the same men again when they attack Acre, and the day will come when that happens, and because of the traitor those men will try and kill us, and who thinks it is right the traitor is put in command over us after getting our true commander banished like a common criminal? Maybe this command is what he was after all along.’
A low grumble ensued and the men nodded in agreement and looked at Benedict as if he were a leper. Benedict gave a small nod and looked away from de Paganel who grunted, ‘Now that is settled….are we agreed a condemned man must die?’
‘We cannot do it within the castle,’ said one of the knights, ‘Edwin was right when he said we could lose everything, they would disband us and hang the leaders, and that includes you.’
De Paganel nodded, ‘Aye, even we have a code, but if the commander dies in battle, or somewhere else, then it is the will of God.’
The men all muttered in agreement and fell silent as the door opened and Leopold stood in the doorway and stared at the gathering with a stony face. He looked towards de Paganel, ‘You’ve decided?’
‘Aye, it will happen, but not here.’
‘Very well,’ said Leopold, ‘until then you will obey the orders and do your duty to this city. At midday every man will parade in the courtyard in full battledress,’ he smiled at the curious looks, ‘your new commander wants to speak to you all.’ Leopold turned and disappeared along the balcony leaving the knights and men at arms of the Imperial Order of Jerusalem talking amongst themselves.
~
At midday all the fighting men, knights and men at arms, less the men on duty on the walls and the gate stood in ranks in the courtyard and waited patiently for de Capo. It had been less than eight hours since the man had stood outside the gates and demanded entry. Now he had them dressed in full mail and plate, fully armed, waiting for him to appear and address them. The sunlight was blinding and the heat intense. Usually the courtyard would be empty at midday as the ground was baked hard by the constant bombardment of the sun. On the battlements, makeshift sun canopies had been erected to protect the men on guard duty, but on this day there was no such protection for the men in the courtyard.
Midday was the time of day when people took shelter from the heat; and for a while all men would rest if they could, until the sun started to move down to the west. As the day cooled and the evening started to refresh the people and the blistered land, the people would work late into the evening until paradoxically the coldness of the night made them shiver after the extreme heat of the day
Geoffrey de Paganel stood facing the assembled men, his face was taught with anger and he felt the sweat slide down his face. His pride would not allow him to walk away, nor complain. If the men in front of him could stand there in silence, so could he. Time passed slowly and his eyes flitted from one sweat drenched face to another and he wondered if he would ever be able to complete a sweating. The younger men looked back at him while the older men simply stared ahead, refusing to let anything distract them from standing in the heat while their bodies baked under the armour they were wearing. Those men and boys who were not required to stand in the courtyard watched in silence as Leopold walked down the stairs and across the courtyard to stand next to de Paganel, ‘Is anyone missing?’
‘No,’ replied de Paganel, ‘what’s this in aid of?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ Leopold wiped his face and placed his helmet on his head.
The heat was already making his body sweat and he flexed his shoulders as he tried to adjust the weight of his mail and plate, ‘Is it legal?’
Leopold turned to de Paganel, ‘What?’
‘Him,’ de Paganel gave a backward nod of the head, ‘the Bailli putting him in command over us….is it legal?’
‘The Jew will know,’ Leopold replied, ‘but I think not, and when the Grand Master finds out he will petition the Pope to intervene.’
‘You’ve sent a message?’
‘I don’t need to,’ replied Leopold, ‘Reynaud will tell the Grand Master and he will inform the Pope but I suspect the problem will resolve itself before he gets a reply.’
De Paganel wiped the sweat from his face again, ‘How long have we got to stand here like damned fools?’
‘He’s testing us,’ explained Leopold, ‘he asked about the sweating then ordered the men to assemble in full armour.’
De Paganel sighed heavily as sweat rolled down his face, ‘Bastard!’
Chapter Ten
De Capo stood in the doorway watching the parade with some concern. He felt hot and cla
mmy and had done ever since he arrived. Even the coolness of the night had not helped, and he knew despite his outward manner he was apprehensive and nervous about this unprecedented task forced upon him. The question of legality had also been bought up between himself and le Vicomt. Neither man knew the answer but both guessed the Pope would ratify anything the Bailli decided was legal, even if it wasn’t.
By the time he returned with his chest being carried by two servants, Hashim had found a basket of fresh fruit, a jug of cool water and an amphora of sweet red wine he had placed on a table in the sleeping quarters behind the screen. The shutters of a second window had been opened to allow sunlight to brighten his sleeping area, fresh cotton sheets had been placed across his bed and a fine silk net hanging from the ceiling covered the bed like a translucent canopy.
De Capo, unable to hide his astonishment at the transformation, looked at Hashim who spoke rapidly to the two servants carrying the chest into the room, they placed it on the floor and scuttled out as if their hair was on fire. Hashim swept the net to one side, opened the chest and removed the weapons, an arming sword, a falchion, two daggers and a war hammer, all wrapped in thick cotton which he placed on the bed. Spare mail and plate were removed with equal reverence and placed on one of the two cross stands next to his bed. A leather pouch, heavy with coin was placed on the bed beside the weapons, ‘I will count this Sayyid,’ he said, ‘and if any piece goes missing I will offer my hand as payment.’
De Capo looked at Efrayim enquiringly who simply shrugged as if it was a natural comment to make.
Hashim removed items of clothing, examining each piece minutely before placing it carefully on the bed in separate piles. Once he was satisfied with what he had seen, he refolded the clothes and repacked the chest. He turned his attention to the weapons, checking each one individually for any signs of rust or tarnish. With the exception of the falchion they all passed his inspection. He approached de Capo who had taken the chance to watch the comings and goings at the gate they controlled, ‘Sayyid?’ De Capo turned to find Hashim standing with the falchion held in his hands, ‘I will clean this and return it.’
‘It was cleaned two days ago,’ de Capo said.
Hashim smiled, ‘By you Sayyid?’
‘No.’
‘The man who cleaned it made an error,’ replied Hashim diplomatically, ‘I will ensure your swords and armour are cleaned again.’
De Capo watched as Hashim examined his spare mail in minute detail, ‘How long did you serve de Chauvigny?’
Hashim continued to examine the mail as he replied, ‘Longer than other men would have served him Sayyid.’
‘You did not like him?’
Hashim looked up and continued to be diplomatic, ‘He was not always an easy man to like.’
De Capo realised he was unlikely to get a straightforward answer. He turned towards the window, ‘Aye, it would be difficult to like a man who kills so many of your faith.’
‘Indeed Sayyid,’ Hashim gave a small bow, ‘as it would be easy to like a man who shows mercy to them.’
De Capo turned and looked at both Efrayim and Hashim, ‘What do you mean?’
‘News travels fast Sayyid,’ said Hashim with a smile, ‘the enemy who shows mercy to a Muslim is an enemy no more!’
‘What do you know?’
Hashim placed the mail on the bed, picked up the falchion and whetstone from the chest and began to rub the blade, ‘Only what men tell me Sayyid, and the men I listen to do not lie.’ He fell silent and continued to rub the blade, seemingly oblivious of anything else, and de Capo knew he would get no better answer.
By midday Hashim had cleaned the falchion and also the spare suit of mail and plate. After ensuring de Capo’s horses had been groomed, fed and watered he ensured fresh towels and soap were in his sleeping quarters. The fruit had been supplemented with flat breads and cold chicken and, after removing his armour, and changing into a fresh undershirt de Capo replaced the heavy mail and plate, and for a short time felt refreshed. That feeling did not last long and by the time the men started to parade in the courtyard, clamminess and fatigue started to envelope his whole body.
Hashim supplied de Capo a red surcoat with the black cross which he wore over his armour. He looked at the parade knowing all the men hated him after the incident in the gully, and some, or all of them were implicated in the attack that left Thomas gravely injured. He also knew if he was soft they would despise him as much as if he was hard on them. He walked out onto the balcony and stood like a King overseeing his army. He wanted all to see him and he was prepared to make them wait until he felt the time was right to address them. Leopold had been right; this was a test, a test of de Capo’s power over men who disliked him.
He returned to his quarters and filled a beaker of water before walking out onto the balcony again. The sun filled the cloudless sky and beat mercilessly down into the earth and onto the men below him; he knew they would be baking in their armour. He walked along the balcony, stopping every few steps to sip the cool water. Several heads turned and watched him and he could almost feel the contempt in their looks. The heat of the midday sun was oppressive even in the shade.
He looked down at the man standing beside Leopold, assuming he was Sir Geoffrey de Paganel, an English knight who was marked in the rolls as the first knight below Leopold. The men in the courtyard began to fidget and several wiped the sweat from their faces. He felt a sudden shame as he realised he was smiling while watching other men in extreme discomfort. Striding back to his quarters he found Efrayim and Hashim standing in the doorway watching him. They looked at each other as if they were hiding a secret from him before looking at the chest that held all the records.
De Capo was puzzled, ‘What?’
Chapter Eleven
The sun had moved west before de Capo marched across the courtyard and stood next to Leopold. He glanced at the rows of men and felt the stares of hatred being returned a hundredfold, even so, it was a remarkable display and de Capo found himself impressed, not just by their ability to remain standing for so long in the furnace created by the courtyard but by their uniformity. Their dress code was almost identical apart from their choice of swords. Each man wore the conical helmet with the thick nose guard, a mail aventail hanging at the back giving increased protection to the back of the neck, and with white cloaks covering the red surcoats that displayed the black cross the effect was extraordinary. A battle line of these men in a full charge would be overpowering, and he understood why these men were such a frightening force.
De Capo stood in front of the man beside Leopold, ‘Your name?’
‘De Paganel.’
De Capo had learnt a little about the English knight from Efrayim and Hashim. Both had agreed that while Leopold was dangerous, de Paganel was dangerous and treacherous and he was more like de Chauvigny than anyone else. The men were more scared of him than they were of Leopold. De Capo turned and faced the assembly, seventy four men, minus those on guard duty at the castle and the gate. This was only half of the Order, the remainder were in Cyprus under the command of their Grand Master.
The sun beat down on his bare head and he wished for a cold English rain to batter his face with millions of freezing droplets smashed into his body by the force of a good north easterly, an experience now a distant memory. For a few seconds he stared at the rows of heads and tried to imagine being in the mud and sludge of a harsh English winter. He was bought back to the present by a man coughing and turned to look at Leopold and de Paganel who were watching him curiously.
He faced the assembled men, ‘You all know who I am and why I am here. Apart from my presence your superiors remain the same, Leopold von Eschenback is my second in command.’ He paused and watched their faces noting some appeared visibly relieved, ‘Sir Geoffrey de Paganel is third in command and you will obey their orders as you will obey mine.’ Once more he paused, not for effect but because he knew the next words he said would be the ones th
ey judged him on, ‘Your duties will carry on as normal, with one exception.’ He slowly turned and stared at Leopold and de Paganel, ‘Your oath to Reynaud de Chauvigny is no longer valid and any man who carries out an act based on that oath will be guilty of sedition and treason.’
Neither man expected that and the faces of both men betrayed them. De Capo silently thanked Efrayim for showing him the manuscript showing the names of every man who had made the oath. Not only were their names written with the date they made the oath, but each man had signed his name or made his mark and Father Erasmus was the witness to each man’s pledge.
De Capo walked along the front row, looking at the faces of the men he now commanded, some met his eyes and others stared arrogantly past him refusing to make eye contact, ‘From midday tomorrow, each man will attend the chapel. Father Erasmus will be your witness and you will renounce that unholy oath!’ He heard men sigh and knew he had hit a nerve, ‘You will renounce this abomination in the sight of God.’ He stopped and stared at de Paganel, ‘You will make a new oath swearing allegiance to the King of Jerusalem and his officers.’ He approached de Paganel and stopped within killing distance of his sword as he continued, ‘You will swear to abide by the rules of chivalry, obey the lawful orders of your superiors and to uphold the protection of the Kingdom of Jerusalem from all enemies.’
He turned his back on de Paganel and walked along the front of the assembled men again. No one moved and no one made a sound. The servants had stopped their work to listen and Father Erasmus stood on the balcony outside his chapel and clasped the wooden crucifix hung round his neck. De Capo stood in front of the centre of the first row and continued, ‘Any man who does not make this new oath will be considered an enemy and dealt with according to the law…..Leopold will be the first man to swear followed by Sir Geoffrey.’
He faced both men again and glared at them. Neither moved and neither gave away their feelings except by the sneer de Paganel was unable to avoid showing, ‘Leopold,’ de Capo gave a final look at the men formed up in ranks before him, ‘dismiss the men and both of you report to my quarters.’
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