by Dan Davis
I thought of all the nights Alice and I had spent laying in her bed whispering to each other. I’d had my share of frenzied humping in the woods or castle storerooms but those moments with Alice were my first experience of intimacy. Yet she had shared countless quiet, special moments with both her husband and the King of England before me. Perhaps with others.
A young man’s heart and his sense of worth are the most fragile, pathetic and useless things on earth and mine shrivelled up like a worm on a drystone wall.
“Please, Alice, promise me you shall protect yourself from William,” I said, lowering my face to hers. “No matter how you feel about me. Promise me you shall never be alone with him or allow his men to approach you. Never be alone anywhere. And keep your children close.”
“Richard, get away from me,” she said, her nose wrinkling.
I saw myself in her wide, shining eyes. I had washed the worst of the blood from me and had put on fresh clothes. But my hair stuck out wildly from the blood that I had not washed away. I could see my own drawn and wild face staring back at me.
“I am sorry.” I held up my hands and backed away from her. “I am sorry for everything. Alice, I beg you, do not go near that monster nor any of his men. If you do nothing else—”
“Leave,” she said, pointing at her door.
On my way out, Jocelyn stared up at me with a hurt and fearful expression. I should have ruffled his hair or bid him a good day. But I stormed right by him without a second look.
William had been with the French forces at Acre all along, keeping his men quiet and well out of the fighting. But they could not resist that massacre.
I did not know what to do about William. And there was no time to think about it. Immediately after the massacre the entire Frankish army along with our women and children were marched south along the coast.
We were marching for the port of Jaffa. Once that fell we would retake the Holy City of Jerusalem.
William and his knights marched with us.
Chapter Five - Renown
Jaffa was seventy miles away south along the coast. The huge Saracen army that had surrounded us while we won back Acre matched our course further inland. They mirrored our advance and harassed us with attacks by their light cavalry.
Our infantry marched on the inland side of the road in tight formation. Outside of them were our crossbowmen who warded off the Saracen cavalry. Safe inside near the coast was the baggage train.
I rode with the mounted knights between the baggage and the infantry. I spent the last of my silver on a steady black mare before leaving Acre. Good horses were hard to find in Outremer and the prices were enormous. Most knights rode a destrier, a war horse trained in the forward charge and the richer knights had two or three held in reserve. I had no chance of buying a destrier so my mare was merely a rouncey that had once belonged to a squire. She was too old for war but she was all I had. Because she was black I called her Morel and I took care of her and prayed she would survive the march.
Off the coast, our fleet matched us and shipped food and supplies and took off the wounded and sick.
The Knights Templar lead the way as our vanguard and the Knights Hospitaller guarded the rear; the two most vulnerable positions.
King Richard was lord of vast and diverse lands and it was the Poitevins, the Bretons and the Angevins who marched behind the Templars. The English and the Normans and the forces of the Kingdom of Jerusalem marched behind them. The king rode his golden horse up and down the lines often with his huge retinue of lords and bodyguards. He was keeping an eye on us all, ensuring that we stayed together. But also he shouted encouragement, told us what was happening and reminded us that we were led by a man who knew how to lead.
Behind the English were King Philip’s French and the local barons of Outremer, as well as all the Germans and Austrians and all the other Christians who were with us.
William, as a lord of Outremer holding land in the County of Tripoli, rode among them with his men.
I did not know what to do about William. No king or great lord or bishop would have paid me any heed had I made accusations about William and his crimes in England and elsewhere.
For many nights I imagined creeping through the darkness to where he camped and slitting his throat. I would have to move silently and to do that would require ridding myself of hauberk and helmet. Even leather creaked so I would need to go unarmoured. I would take no more than a short sword or even a dagger. I would blacken my face and my blade with ground charcoal mixed with oil and slip through sleeping forms until I found him. I pictured sawing my blade back and forth across his throat, the blood bubbling out with his screams.
His men would wake, of course. They would cut me down in moments. But at least my duty would be done.
I was too much of a coward to do it. It was easy to convince myself that I would likely fail before ever reaching William. I would be discovered before reaching William. Even if I could find him in the dark amongst so many thousands of others. And if I failed there would be no one to stop William from killing Alice out of spite or whatever madness it was that possessed him. I told myself that I was willing to die for my oath, for justice and vengeance but I did not want my death to be certain.
We marched and rode for many days through the intense heat and Saladin’s cavalry harassed us without fail on every one of them. We marched in full armour and the roaring heat claimed many of us, fainting away into shaking madness and death.
But still we did not hurry.
At the Battle of Hattin five years before, the Frankish knights had marched right into a land with no water. Their true battle had been fought against the heat of the desert. Saladin had lured them that way and the fools had fallen for it. And that was why the combined Christian forces were slaughtered almost to a man. Without thousands of knights to protect the Holy City, Jerusalem was ultimately lost and thousands of good Christian people sold into slavery by Saladin. And so King Richard had us march only in the cooler mornings, rising before dawn to march from water source to water source. I thanked God every day that we were led by a king with common sense rather than by the fools who had blundered out to Hattin.
The women rode in carriages and covered wagons by the coast in the safest part of our army. Alice was one of them, along with her children. I could not see Alice but my thoughts were with her. I had soured her feelings toward me and any distant hope I had of marriage was dashed. And yet again and again I heard William’s man shouting to me across that hill of blood.
How’s your whore?
The thought of Alice being rent asunder as Isabella had been drove me mad on that march, more even than the baking sun did. William could attack during the march and I would be too far away to do anything. We had to stay in our formations. If men were allowed to move up and down the column then our entire strategy could fall to pieces. I was bound to stay where I was but would William would not consider himself bound by such orders.
At least the baggage train and precious supplies - including the women - were guarded by sober and vigilant men. And William must know that to commit such a crime, even if he escaped, would ruin his name throughout Outremer. But then he had thrown away an entire Earldom in England so he was utterly mad and perhaps cared little for self-preservation.
And so we marched. In ten days we came to a vast woodland; a precious rarity in the low coastal regions Holy Land.
The Wood of Arsuf was not the familiar lush, bright green woods of England. It was an astonishing mix of dark green pines and cedars with black bark. There were wild, gnarled olives, whole groves of scented bay and strange local oaks, like the English kind but different. Unknown and familiar birds chirped and flitted about above. After so long exposed to the scorching sun that wood was sweet relief.
But feelings of peace never last.
Whispers of the coming ambush sped up and down the lines. Always on the march the Saracens had ridden along our landward flank. But once we reached the woodland they n
ow lurked in front and behind, tightening the noose about us. We were cut off in front and cut off behind. The single thing protecting us from slaughter was that we kept tight together.
“They are forming to attack. No matter what they attack with,” Richard told us as we approached the southern end of the woodland. “We must all hold until they have exhausted themselves. And keep moving, always together.”
At Hattin, the Saracens had weakened the Franks with endless storms of arrows and javelins, goading them into the knight’s charge. But once the Franks had expended their devastating charge they were cut down and destroyed. Earl William had been at that battle and had been one of the few to survive and escape. I prayed for William’s death in the coming battle.
“We hold until they exhaust themselves,” Richard shouted as he trotted past us. “Wait until six blasts of the trumpets. We hold and hold until with God’s will we will destroy them in one glorious charge. We hold and then charge on six blasts. Remember Hattin.”
The Saracens burst from the trees with a cacophony so daunting it was as if the doors of hell were opening before us. They pounded vast drums and clashed mighty cymbals and gongs. They blasted hundreds of trumpets and the wide swathe of horsemen and infantry screamed and bellowed their war cries.
I had never been in a true battle. I had fought in sieges, stormed walls and taken towns and I had killed so many men that I had lost count. So I thought I knew all there was to know about war. But I was mounted, behind ranks of heavily armoured infantry and still I shook. Already sweating freely I was hit with a sudden chill and the need to evacuate my bowels.
The Saracens charged forward on foot and on horseback and the first of them launched thousands of javelins and darts into our men.
The javelin men on foot threw their missiles and pulled back. The mounted forces launched theirs and they too retreated back into the edge of the wood where more horsemen streamed forward.
Our infantry held up their shields and those missiles thudded into the heavy wood like thunder. Some found their way through the shields and the hauberks and helmets and the first cries of the wounded and dying began.
We moved forward a few dozen paces and formed up again as the dreaded horse archers thrummed a thousand arrows into us every few seconds. Our crossbows clicked and thronged, their bolts felling the man or horse whenever they found a target.
The Saracens had more men and they had more arrows. But their arrows were smaller, lighter and lacked the power needed to penetrate our men’s mail hauberks and thick doublets beneath. Soon I saw many of our men marching with one or even half a dozen arrows sticking out from their backs or shoulders. There was no time to stop and remove them from the armour. But any arrow can find the gaps in armour. If a shield is not raised in time an arrow will smash through a man’s face like a knife through a boiled turnip. Many of our men had rents in their hauberks from previous battles and arrows found their way through. Our wounded were helped inward away from the fighting.
Swords are as light as air but holding up a shield is tiring. Even for men trained to it and as the day wore on we lost more and more men to the relentless arrow storm.
We knights were itching to charge out and take the fight to the Saracens. We were close behind our infantry. Should Saladin send his heavy cavalry then we had to be ready to counter it. Instead we walked our horses or held them steady as the arrows rained down upon us, too. The mounted knights were as well protected as the infantry and usually more so. But we lost many horses. Some got hit in the rumps and led away toward the coast and baggage train with hopes for recovery. If a knight did not have a spare mount he went forward to join the ranks of the infantry.
King Richard was everywhere, riding up and down with his loyal knights surrounding him. “Hold, men, hold. Stay together. They shall not break us. God is with us, God is with us.” His throat rasped and no wonder for he had been bellowing encouragement for hours and thousands of feet and hoofs had kicked up clouds of fine dust.
My horse, my precious, sweet black Morel, took an arrow in the neck. It went through one of the big veins. The poor beast reared only a little and stood bravely while I dismounted. Then she bent her legs and went down slowly, blood pouring from her muscled neck. I thought of Isabella.
I held her head and looked into her huge dark eye. “I am sorry, girl,” I whispered in her ear as I drove my sword up into her skull.
I grabbed my shield and pushed forward through the crossbowmen towards the infantry. I had no wish to fight on foot but I was too poor to have a spare mount or a squire to look after it.
“For the love of God, Richard,” I heard Henry of Champagne cry out. “Let us run them down.”
“You will hold,” King Richard roared, yanking his reins close behind me. “Remember Hattin.” The king was attended by dozens of knights and lords and I scurried out of their way.
I wondered if I should run back to the baggage train to guard Alice. The madness of a battle was just the kind of situation that Earl William could use to get to her and her children. Holding my shield up high over my head against arrows raining down, I peered back through the thronging mounted knights behind me. I wondered how I could get away from the front line without being accused of cowardice.
The man next to me was laughing with his friend when an arrow struck him through the cheek, slamming down through his mouth into the back of his head. He was down and thrashing like a fish on a hook and hot blood gushed out to drench the man. Mouth wounds bleed profusely and the ground beneath him was soaked. But he did not die right away. His friends dragged him to his feet and walked him back through the massed horsemen. They went toward the coast where the wounded were thrown onto wagons to die or, if they were wealthy, be cared for.
I looked down at myself. Horse blood soaked me. If discovered, I would be ridiculed and perhaps condemned and ostracised but still I decided I would feign injury for long enough to get to the baggage train and then check on Alice. Once I knew she was well I would return to fight. It was worth the risk to my reputation.
“Richard of Ashbury.” The king bellowed my name and I jumped from my thoughts, terrified he had known my intent. “Where is your mount?” He was pointing his sword right at me and shouting over the heads of crossbowmen and through milling horsemen.
“Dead,” I called back. “Arrow.”
The king knew I was nothing but a poor knight. But he knew I could fight like the devil and he needed warriors that day.
“Give this man a horse,” King Richard shouted at one of his men and turned back to me. “You ride with me.”
Men around me looked on me with admiration, jealousy and hatred. I crawled upon my new horse’s back. He was a very fine destrier, one of Henry of Champagne’s spare mounts, no less. I rode after the King and his retinue back down the line to where fighting was even fiercer. I rode among kings and princes and famous knights and was out of place with my cheap armour and faded, battered shield. But I would never have a better chance of making a future for myself.
The rear of our forces was suffering an all-out attack. Saladin was throwing his entire right wing at the Knights Hospitaller. And as fine soldiers as they were they were being slowly crushed. It was madness. Arrows darkened the sky and men shoved and pushed and screams filled the air. Banners of all colours and designs danced back and forth above it all. The Saracen army was endless and stretched over a mile or more from our lines to the trees and more came to join the press of men and horse. The Hospitallers were being surrounded and pressed back.
And then there he was.
William rode toward me through the madness. He was wore black-painted mail under a black surcoat with a white cross and a black helmet with a black shield and white cross. I shook my head to clear my vision, as surely William would not be riding to speak to the king of England.
But he was riding alongside a black-helmeted lord who I knew was the Master of the Order of the Hospitallers. It was the Master who rode back to address Richard. And Will
iam rode with him.
As they reined in, I was surprised to see King Richard glance between me and William. I had not known that Richard was aware of William’s crime but of course rumour had reached him. The other nobles looked to me, too.
“We are being destroyed,” the Master shouted as his horse slewed to a stop. “My knights, my men are being cut to pieces and you do nothing.”
William yanked his horse’s reins, jerking the poor beast’s head so hard I thought its neck would break. My enemy caught my eye and his lips spread outward into a reptilian grin.
“You will hold,” Richard shouted back at the Master. “Or I will pray that God damn you, my lord. Stay together and hold until all their forces are close and committed. We have but one chance to catch them all.”
“They are not committed now,” the Master said, waving at the scene. “If we do not charge immediately we shall be lost.”
William laughed. “Perhaps that your desire?” He spoke to King Richard. “Perhaps you wish to be rid of the good Hospitallers? You want no challenge to your own control of Outremer, is that not true?” William laughed again and glanced at the Master of the Hospitallers who simply scowled at him in return.
Richard’s men cried protests but the king silenced them with a look.
“William de Ferrers,” the King of England said, his face twisted as I had never seen before. The king was angry. “You are a murderer.”
“Aren’t we all?” William said grinning and indicating the battle around us. The nobles around me cursed him again.
“He is my man,” the Master interjected. “He is convicted of no crime.”
“I am his liege lord,” King Richard said. “But no longer.”
I could not believe what I was hearing, it was as though God had begun answering my prayers.
William spat. “I shall never return to England.” He had found a new protector and new brothers in arms by joining the Order of the Hospitallers.
