The Heart of the Lion

by Jean Plaidy

  And now on to Acre, to Philip, to make their plans together, to bring about the realisation of a dream.

  As they had sailed from Cyprus, Richard heard that one of his galley men wished to speak to him. This man told him that he had been in Beyrout and there seen a wonderful ship – the largest he had ever seen.

  ‘It was a Saracen, Sire,’ he said. ‘Her sides were hung with green and yellow tarpaulins. I asked what this was for and was told that the Byzantine navy frequently use the deadly Greek Fire in their fighting and these tarpaulins are protection for the hull. Sire, this ship was being loaded with men and food. It was said that there were eight hundred Turks and seven Emirs to command them and they were on their way to Acre.’

  ‘If this be true,’ said Richard, ‘it is small wonder that the siege goes on. They must be constantly supplied with food and troops.’

  ‘And, Sire, that was not all. It was said that two hundred deadly snakes were being put on board the vessel and these were to be let loose in the Christian camp.’

  ‘By God’s eyes,’ cried Richard, ‘is this so then? I would to God I had the chance to meet such a ship.’

  It seemed that his prayers were answered for between Beyrout and Sidon a ship was sighted on the horizon. Three-masted and flying the French flag, she was one of the biggest ships Richard had ever seen.

  ‘I never knew Philip owned such a ship,’ said Richard. ‘If he had, surely I would have seen it. He would certainly have boasted of her.’

  Richard suspected that she was not French and as they came nearer he saw the green and yellow tarpaulins on her sides and sent for the galley man who had told him of the ship he had seen in Beyrout.

  He did not wait to be asked. ‘That is the ship, Sire, the one I saw being loaded in Beyrout.’

  Richard ordered one of the galleys to go forward and make contact with the ship.

  The ship’s answer was a shower of arrows, javelins and stones.

  ‘’Tis true,’ cried Richard. ‘She’s an enemy. She must not be allowed to reach Acre.’

  He gave the order to close in on her but the extreme height of the ship gave her the advantage and she was able to send down such a shower of arrows on to the galleys that the wise action seemed to be to retire.

  Richard was furious. She was not going to escape. He could see that his men were losing heart for what they considered an unequal battle doomed to failure. But Richard never accepted failure. He was either going to capture or sink that vessel. She was not going to reach Acre with her reinforcements of men and food and her deadly serpents to wreak havoc in the Christian camp.

  ‘Are you such cowards,’ he cried to his men, ‘that you shrink from action with the enemy? She is one and we are many. Shall you, soldiers of the Cross allow her to carry succour to the Saracen? If you allow these enemies of God to escape you deserve to be hanged, every one of you.’

  As ever his magnetism mingled with his personal valour had its effect. Those men who, a few moments before, had grumbled to each other that to attack was folly, were now straining for the fight.

  Some of them even attempted to board the ship, and as they did so their hands or heads were cut off and the air was filled with their piercing cries as they fell back into the sea. When several men leaped into the water and tied a rope to the Saracen’s helm so that her progress might be impeded, this was more successful.

  Then to the Saracens’ relief Richard gave the order to retire. It was but a respite. His mind was made up. He deeply regretted that he could not take the vessel, and the thought of all that treasure on board dismayed him. What he could do, what he must do was sink her; and that was what he was going to do.

  The prows of the galleys were iron which made of these ships excellent battering rams. They could drive themselves into the sides of the Saracen with such force that they broke her up. This they did until the sea was darkened by the bodies of drowning men and the ship’s cargo. Richard tried to salvage some of the latter but without much success.

  But the victory was Richard’s. The Saracen would not sail into Acre. The besieged who would be eagerly awaiting succour would be disappointed.

  Surely, thought Richard, this action must have brought the fall of Acre nearer.

  After such an engagement the fleet must put in at Tyre. At last he had reached the Holy Land. How enthralled Richard was at the prospect of setting foot on that soil. For so long he had dreamed of this; now fulfilment was at hand. He felt sure that ere long he would have captured the Holy City itself.

  Flushed with victory he landed, but if he had expected a warm welcome, he was disappointed for the Governor came riding down to the shore. He bowed coldly and said: ‘My lord, I have orders from the Marquis Conrad de Montferrat that you are not to enter the town.’

  ‘What means this?’ cried Richard dismayed.

  ‘My orders, Sire.’

  ‘So I am to be governed by Conrad de Montferrat?’

  ‘He has the backing, Sire, of the King of France.’

  ‘Is this the Holy Land?’ cried Richard. ‘It is indeed, Sire.’

  ‘Know you what I have but a few days ago sunk a great Saracen who was taking supplies and men to Acre? My men are weary. They seek rest, lodging, food, relaxation.’

  ‘They may camp outside the city.’

  ‘I shall remember this,’ said Richard.

  ‘Not against me, my lord, I beg you,’ answered the Governor. ‘I but obey orders.’

  ‘Then I shall remember it against Montferrat and the King of France.’

  ‘If there is aught I can do for you, sire, outside the town . . .’

  ‘Nay,’ snapped Richard. ‘There is naught. We shall not stay long on your inhospitable shores. Have you heard what happened to one who was similarly churlish? He lost his island and now lies in chains.’

  The Governor began to tremble and Richard thought: It is no use blaming him. He is not the enemy.

  He shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

  ‘Set up the tents,’ he said. ‘We rest outside the city.’ And he thought: If this were not a Christian stronghold Tyre would go the same way as Cyprus.

  But the men were weary and he was eager to get to Acre. There must be no more delay. And why had Montferrat backed by Philip behaved so to him? He supposed it was because he had sponsored Guy de Lusignan for the crown of Jerusalem when it was won. Well, Guy was worth a little friction. He did not regret favouring him one jot.

  And now to rest.

  The Queens came ashore – Berengaria with Joanna and the pretty little Cypriot maid.

  ‘We watched the fight,’ said Berengaria. ‘Oh, Richard, I was terrified. But I knew of course that you would win. You will always win.’

  Joanna embraced him. ‘I was afraid for you,’ she murmured.

  ‘I am grieved,’ he answered, ‘that you were in a position to watch it. How glad I was that you were not in my galley!’

  ‘Richard is so wise,’ said Berengaria, but she spoke a little wistfully.

  And the little Cypriot looked on with wondering eyes.

  ‘There is much to be done,’ said Richard. ‘I have ordered that you shall be comfortably lodged. I must now leave you. There is much to be done.’

  Was that all? wondered Berengaria as Richard turned away.

  It was an auspicious moment. There before him lay the walled city of Acre, its towers and minarets set against a blue and cloudless sky. To the south of the city stretched ten miles of golden sands with palm trees dotted here and there; and on these sands were camped the armies from all over the Christian world.

  Richard gazed in wonder. At last after so many irksome months he had arrived. He turned his gaze to the thick walls of the city – strong, formidable. Behind them lurked the Saracen enemy, as determined never to be driven out of this stronghold as Richard was to take it, for since the fall of Jerusalem it had become the capital of the Holy Land. For two years those Christian armies had sought to break the siege and take the city which was the gat
eway to Jerusalem.

  Why was it so difficult to capture the city? How could the men and women of Acre hold out so long? Surely God was on the side of the Christians! And when Richard considered the ship he had sunk and all the men and provisions which had been lost in the sea he was not surprised at the endurance of those people. If such stores were being brought to them regularly, they had nothing to fear from a siege.

  But he was here at last . . . yearning for the battle and when the fleet came into sight there were shouts from the shore and as he came nearer Richard saw the people gathered there to meet him.

  There was an august figure there on horseback surrounded by a company of men. Philip! He was looking eagerly towards the ships. Richard knew for whom he was searching.

  When Berengaria was ready to go ashore Philip waded out to the galley and, so that she should not get her feet wet, himself carried her to the beach. This was a significant gesture indeed, for Alice’s fate was still undecided. It was characteristic of Philip to show the world that he felt no ill will towards Berengaria because she was now Queen of England in place of his sister.

  But, wondered those who saw this gallant gesture, how true was his apparent acceptance of this state of affairs? With Philip no one could be sure.

  Richard was the last to go ashore and there in view of all, he and Philip embraced affectionately.

  ‘At last you are here!’ said Philip. ‘What delays there have been!’

  ‘Necessary delays,’ replied Richard.

  ‘It seems years since Messina.’

  ‘What a goodly array,’ cried Richard. ‘Men from all over the Christian world! How can we fail with such a company?’

  ‘Come,’ said Philip, ‘I wish us to be alone together. There is much to be discussed.’

  ‘First,’ said Richard, ‘I would inspect the troops. I want to know what we have here. What a motley!’

  It is true. There were French, and English of course, Germans, Italians, Spanish, in fact as Richard had said every Christian nation appeared to be represented.

  As Richard rode round the camps, cheers went up. There could be no doubt that his presence was a signal for rejoicing. His fame had gone before him. He was the unconquered and unconquerable hero of the Christian world. There could be no failure with him to lead them. They had long awaited his coming and now here he was, and this must mean that ere long Acre would fall.

  He was glad to see that besides the troops from the Christian countries there was a goodly number of the company of Hospitallers – necessary to any army. These people lived up to their name and tended the sick and wounded and were very skilled in their work. They knew the value of foods and which were good in the treatment of certain ailments; they had linen for bandages and wine in which to soak them because this appeared to have healing qualities. When it was necessary to amputate a limb, which was often, they could brew a concoction of opium and mandragora with which to numb the patient’s senses. They were an essential part of an army.

  Richard’s spirits rose. He could not see how these armies could fail – with God’s help, and surely God would not deny that to men occupied in such a cause!

  It was with great optimism that he came at length to Philip’s camp.

  Philip dismissed all his men that he might be alone with Richard.

  ‘You should never have delayed as you did,’ he chided. ‘I’ve watched and waited and the days passed with still no sign of you.’

  ‘I dallied with good results. I got treasure from Tancred and the island of Cyprus is now mine.’

  ‘You did not come for personal conquests, Richard.’

  ‘Cyprus is now a haven for crusaders. They may refurbish their stores and rest there. The men can have a few days’ respite in delightful surroundings – fig trees, palm trees, beautiful flowers. It is an enchanting place. You will see how this will help us in our war against the Saracen.’

  ‘Well, suffice it that you are here. That gives me great satisfaction.’

  ‘Tell me, Philip, what has been happening in the last six weeks? I heard that you had taken Acre.’

  ‘No. As if I would without you! Wasn’t that a pact we made?’

  ‘Pacts are not always remembered.’

  ‘They should be between us two. Nay, we have had ill luck. These Saracens are fighters, Richard. Mistake that not. The climate here is terrible. We have been tormented by the hot wind from the south which they call the khamsin. It is horrible. There is sand everywhere. In one’s clothes, in one’s food . . . there is no escaping it. It is a case of sand and flies everywhere. I hate this place, Richard. I want nothing so much as to be out of it.’

  ‘How can that be? When Acre is taken we have to march on to Jerusalem.’

  ‘Do not imagine it is going to be an easy victory. There is one man whose reputation matches your own. It is said that he is undefeatable. He is the great Moslem hero; even as you are the hero of the Christians. His name is Saleh-ed-Din. He is known throughout the camp as Saladin. He is a sort of legend. Yes, indeed, he is to them what you are to the Christians. I know not what will be the result when you two meet.’

  ‘I shall be the victor, I assure you. I am going to take Acre within the next few days.’

  ‘It is not as easy as you think.’

  ‘It would not do to think it impossible to achieve.’

  ‘Nay, but do not turn your back on the difficulties. I assure you they exist and they are many.’

  ‘What happened while you were awaiting my arrival?’

  ‘I was determined not to make a general assault until you came, so I contented myself with skirmishes. There is a tower known as the Accursed Tower because it is said to have been built with Judas’s thirty pieces of silver. I thought this should be taken and we have battered it continuously but because we were using bores and battering rams our task was made impossible by the enemy’s use of Greek Fire.’

  Richard was acquainted with this deadly weapon used so frequently by the Saracens. It was a mixture of sulphur, wine, pitch, Persian gum and oil. When these substances were mixed together and set on fire they were almost inextinguishable. The only substances which could reduce their fury were vinegar and sand. The Byzantine Greeks had perfected this as a weapon and because of their many skirmishes with them the Saracens had adopted it to good effect. From a great height they would squirt this fire down on an enemy thus destroying all the contraptions which were put into action.

  ‘Then,’ said Richard, ‘if they are using Greek Fire with such effect we must attack them from afar.’

  He went on to tell Philip of the weapons he proposed to use. There was the tower which he had built in the Sicilian campaign, Mate Griffon. This he had brought with him and it should be set up again. It should be put on wheels and when the moment was ripe should be run up against the walls of the city and his men from its tower could step over the walls.

  ‘You will see that my dallying as you call it has not been wasted. Valuable experience came my way because of it.’

  ‘It was your presence I missed,’ said the King of France. ‘All has changed now you are come. The soldiers know it. And what is more important so does Saladin. Imagine him . . . encamped on the hills beyond the city ready to come in if we should take it, ready to attack us when we are most exhausted. I should like to know how he is feeling this day with the knowledge that Richard the Lion is here.’

  ‘To be more greatly feared than Philip the Lamb.’

  ‘Do not underestimate me, Richard.’

  ‘Nay, I should not be so foolish. If I did you would be reminding me of my Dukedom in Normandy.’

  ‘You know that the friendship between us is greater than any rivalry. You know that we are friends before King and vassal.’

  ‘Or King and King.’

  ‘Aye, my Lord of England. And how I rejoice that at last you have come.’

  He was not the only one. Bonfires were lighted that night. They sprang up everywhere in the Christian camp. The crusaders sang of his
exploits. They had begun to call him the Lion-hearted.

  In his camp Saladin heard the sounds of rejoicing and he knew that the name of Richard the Lion-Heart struck terror into the hearts of his men.

  He wanted very much to come face to face with this hero whose fame had spread through Christendom and into his own ranks.

  In the tent the two Queens waited for Richard to come to them. To Berengaria it seemed strange that she was never alone with her husband. She knew, of course, that he had a Holy War to fight; the sight of the camps and military activity before the city filled her with apprehension and the thought of what those people within its walls must be suffering made her very sad.

  ‘I know they are not Christians,’ she told Joanna, ‘but they are people. I have heard that they are starving.’

  ‘If that is so,’ said Joanna, ‘they will not hold out much longer and then it will all be over.’

  ‘It will not be the end,’ said Berengaria sadly. ‘When they have taken Acre, what next? There will be more fighting, more camps like this. I thought we were all going to die during that terrible battle with the Saracen ship.’

  ‘Nay, we’ll not die. Richard will take too much care of us for that.’

  Did she really believe it? wondered Berengaria. She herself had changed a little. She was beginning to realise that Richard was not over anxious for her company. If he were surely there would be some time when they could be together?

  The little Cypriot Princess who was constantly in attendance listened to their conversation and wondered what would become of her and whether she would ever be allowed to go home to her father.

  Richard seemed to have forgotten their existence, though they heard that he often rode out with the King of France.