by K. M. Ashman
‘Your grace, William of Tyre is here.’
‘Let him come,’ said a voice and William strode into the king’s chamber.
At the far end, King Baldwin IV stood with his back to the door, his upper body naked in the gloom. Servants busied themselves about him, dipping cloths into bowls of scented water and gently washing down his torso.
‘I will be but a moment,’ he said, his voice echoing off the carved panels fixed to the stone citadel walls, please take a seat.’ Despite being only sixteen years old, Baldwin’s voice was strong and authoritative, an important trait that served him well when dealing with those who saw his age as a potential weakness.
William looked over to the king’s chair, a beautiful upholstered piece of furniture brought from the city of Genoa. Before it, a humble wooden stool had been put in place ready to receive visitors. He walked over and sat down, gazing upward as usual at the beautiful frescoes painted on the ceilings and walls. For a few moments, he forgot his burdens and marvelled at the craftsmanship needed to produce such wondrous things.
‘Enough,’ said the king behind him, sending the servants scurrying away, towel me dry and bring me a shirt.’
William got to his feet and waited patiently, his eyes fixed on the throne before him as he waited for Baldwin to appear. It was an unusual requirement when meeting a monarch, but one that Baldwin insisted on.
As he waited, two physicians scurried through the door, each carrying a tray. The first held ointments and balms while the other bore a sharp knife, a bowl, a pile of small linen towels and a small blue bottle. Both men paused at a side table to set out the equipment before approaching the king and bowing their heads in respect.
‘Your Grace,’ said one, ‘it is good to see you are out of your bed today. We have brought your medicines and as you haven’t been bled for a few days, I suggest we take the opportunity to balance the humors.’
‘A stuck pig has not been bled more than me,’ said the king, ‘so, for now, I will keep what little I have left.’ He looked over at the blue bottle on the table. ‘What is that poison you have brought me?’
‘Your Grace,’ said the man, ‘only this morning we heard from a priest who has come all the way from London and he swears that honey laced with gold balances the humors and the purity can cleanse the body of black bile. He says it has cured many back in England.’
‘Really?’ sneered Baldwin. ‘Name them.’
‘I have no names, my lord,’ stuttered the physician, ‘but the messenger is well versed in the ways of medicine. Surely it is worth a try?’
‘I have had enough of your alchemy for today,’ replied the king, ‘everyone leave. I need to speak to my advisors.’
‘Your Grace,’ said the first physician, ‘we still need to apply the bandages. ‘
‘I said get out,’ said the king and take your concoctions with you.
The shocked physicians collected their equipment and hurried out leaving Baldwin alone with William and one room servant.
‘You,’ snapped Baldwin to the servant, ‘go after them. Tell them to furnish you with poppy juice and bring it back forthwith.’
William took a deep breath as he heard Baldwin’s footsteps behind him. The unequal sound of the king’s footfall signalled the presence of a weaker leg and though the air in the room was heavy with incense, there was still the faintest smell of putrescence lingering in the background.
‘I should have them hung,’ said Baldwin, walking over to the throne, ‘they are supposed to be the best physicians in Christendom and I endure endless hours trying their potions and ointments, yet here I am, worsening by the day.’ He walked around to the front of William and stopped to face him square on, causing the prelate to swallow hard, transfixed by the grotesque features of King Baldwin IV.
‘Well, William,’ he said, his breath slightly rasping, ‘how do I look today.’
----
The Prelate stared at the king, trying not to take too deep a breath due to the stench coming from the sores on the young man’s face. When Baldwin had been a boy, William had been the first one to recognise that his inability to feel pain upon his flesh was a common sign of leprosy but had never suspected the disease would affect him so badly.
The left side of the king’s face hung down as if heavily laden and part of his nose was missing skin, exposing the sensitive flesh beneath. His upper lip curled up, exposing some of his teeth, yellowed through disease and one eye was half closed.
The opposite side of Baldwin’s face was intact though covered with sores and William knew that despite all the attention bestowed upon the monarch by the best physicians they could find, the disease was getting worse.
‘Well,’ said the king again, ‘am I not handsome?’
‘It is not a description I would have used,’ answered William eventually, ‘but God judges a man by his heart, not his appearance.’
‘A clever retort as usual,’ said the young king and pointed to an item of clothing hanging from a peg on the wall.
‘Give me my shirt?’ he said and waited as the prelate retrieved the garment.
‘Finest silk,’ said William, feeling the fabric, ‘since when have you been attracted to the trappings of wealth?’
‘The value of a silk shirt to me lies only in its lack of weight,’ said Baldwin, gingerly pulling it over his head. ‘Linen lies heavy on the sores and sticks to the raw flesh like a second skin.’
‘Does it ever ease?’
‘There are good days and bad days,’ said Baldwin, carefully lowering himself into his chair, ‘today is one of the latter.’
‘Shall I pour you a drink?’
‘That would be good. Join me.’
The prelate poured red wine into two silver goblets and handed one over before sitting on the stool.
‘It seems strange to me,’ he said, after taking a sip, ‘that one of the symptoms of your disease is lack of feeling in the flesh yet here you are in pain.’
‘Just one of the many curses of this affliction,’ said Baldwin sinking back into his chair. ‘Cut my flesh with a knife and there is nothing, yet the open sores laying less than a hand’s width away burn like the fires of hell.’ He took a mouthful of his own wine, careful that none spilled due to his deformities. ‘So,’ he continued eventually, the goblet now held in two hands, ‘do you have any updates for me?’
‘Indeed,’ said William, placing his own goblet on the table. ‘I fear the rumours are true and the Byzantium ships have already weighed anchor. Even as we speak, they are headed back across the sea to their home ports. The alliance that Phillip championed as the saviour of the Outremer has faltered before it even had time to make landfall.’
‘I always suspected it was a fragile arrangement,’ said Baldwin. ‘My cousin is well known for making promises of gold but delivering results of copper.’
‘Yet you still offered him the regency of Jerusalem.’
Baldwin looked up at the prelate with mild surprise in his eyes.
‘It seems your spies are truly adept at bringing you even the most private of information,’ he said.
‘Not as hard a task as you would imagine,’ said William. ‘The man himself was quite verbose about the offer, and indeed his refusal to accept.’
‘And your opinion on this matter?’
‘I have to admit I was surprised,’ replied William. ‘Phillip has not been in the Holy Land for even a month, so I would have thought that he lacks the political knowledge to bear such a responsibility.’
‘This disease will kill me sooner rather than later,’ said Baldwin, ‘and the burden of leadership weighs heavily upon my shoulders. I yearn to pass it on to someone whose lineage is unchallengeable and as Phillip is my cousin, I considered him to be a solid choice. Still, it matters not, he turned down the offer, declaring he was a pilgrim first and foremost without coveting any title or position.’
‘Forgive me my scepticism, your grace,’ said William, ‘but in the short time I have known the man, I believe he ca
rries his piety around him like an easily discarded cloak.’
‘A harsh judgement,’ said Baldwin,’ but one that perhaps is closer to the truth than I care to believe.’
‘So, what are your intentions now?’
‘I’m not sure. With my strength deteriorating I need a Regent as soon as possible but my choices are limited.’
‘Can I make a suggestion, your grace?’ asked William after a few moments silence.
‘That is your role, William,’ said Baldwin, ‘speak freely.’
‘Have you considered Raynald of Châtillon?’
‘Ah, the Lord of Oultrejordain,’ said Baldwin. ‘I was wondering when his name would arise.’
‘Is he not an obvious choice?’ asked William. ‘Not only does he have an impressive pedigree, but his loyalty is absolute and his prowess on the field of battle second to none. The fifteen years he spent as a prisoner of Nur ad-Din in Aleppo has hardened his heart and his pledge to protect Christian interests is absolute.
‘Agreed, but his exploits may yet be a weight around our necks. He is so hated by Saladin, it may become a hindrance if we should ever need to talk terms.’
‘With respect, your grace, I would suggest that the reputation of one man will not influence the mind of a Sultan. Besides, I think that he is exactly the sort of leader you need, at least until you can find someone more suitable.’
‘My mother speaks very highly of him,’ said Baldwin, ‘though I suspect that Phillip of Alsace will be outraged.’
‘The lady Agnes is a very astute woman, your grace, you would do well to heed her counsel. With regards to Phillip, I would suggest that he has had his chance, so his opinion is not even a consideration.’
‘I need a man capable of diplomacy, William,’ replied the king. ‘This is not just about Jerusalem, Tyre and Acre, we need to keep the kingdom united to maintain strength in the face of diversity. Someone who can rally Antioch, Edessa, and Tripoli to our aid at a moment’s notice should the need arise.’
‘Worry about diplomacy when the time comes,’ said William. ‘At this moment you need the sort of strength that someone like Raynald can bring. He may not be ideal, but we can waste no more time. Even as we speak, Saladin watches us like a vulture at a dying horse and we cannot display even the slightest weakness.’
Baldwin sighed deeply and stared into his goblet.
‘As usual, your counsel is balanced,’ he said eventually, ‘and I tire easily from the constant political maneuvering by representatives from all sides. What matters now is that I consolidate our forces and send Saladin a clear message.’
‘A message?’ asked William.
‘Aye, that as long as I have even a single breath left in this diseased body, I will not cede a single league of the Holy Land.’ He paused and looked at the man who had taught and advised him his entire life. ‘Send for Raynald, William, let me judge the man in person.’
----
Chapter Five
The Citadel of Jerusalem
October 29th
AD 1177
The following morning, the young king sat on an ornately carved mahogany seat in the receiving chamber within the citadel. Alongside him stood William of Tyre and a scribe to record the events. In front of him stood Sir Raynald of Châtillon, one of the most experienced and battle-hardened knights in the Holy Land.
‘Sir Raynald,’ said Baldwin eventually, ‘I suspect you know why I have summoned you here?’
‘If my sources are correct, your grace, then I suspect it is to offer me the regency of Jerusalem.’
‘Your sources are very astute,’ said the king, ‘but before we discuss the issue, you should know that I offered the position to Phillip of Alsace before you.’
‘I am aware of this.’ said Raynald.
‘And it does not bother you?’
‘The matters of court do not interest me,’ said Raynald, ‘what matters is men on the ground with blades in their hands and fire in their bellies.’
Baldwin stared at the man before him. Raynald’s reputation was well known right across the crusader states. The second son of a French noble, he had arrived in Jerusalem thirty years previously and had fought in the king’s army as a mercenary. Since then he had worked his through the ranks and eventually became the Prince of Antioch through marriage before being captured by Nur ad-Din of the Seljuk empire and thrown in jail. The fact that he had survived his confinement was surprising enough but to come back after fifteen years’ incarceration was almost a miracle in itself.
‘Tell me,’ said Baldwin. ‘How did you manage to survive your captivity?’
‘With faith and fortitude,’ said Raynald. ‘Each morning I awoke with only one thought on my mind, that God had seen fit to spare me so that one day I could return to the fight.’
‘Your reputation is far from savoury,’ said the king. ‘Why should I appoint you as Regent?’
‘I am a fighting man, your grace, and with respect, you sent for me, not the other way around. As such, I do not feel the need to justify the position offered.’
Baldwin bristled at the response but held his tongue. Raynald was certainly a man of few words and he was rude in his manner, but there was something about him that drew admiration from the king.
‘Your grace,’ continued Raynald, ‘can I speak freely?’
‘You may,’ said the king and sat back in his chair.
‘With respect,’ said Raynald, ‘every moment we joust with words is a moment that Saladin takes a step closer. I did not seek this position nor this audience and though I am honoured to be in your presence, there are more pressing matters to attend.’
‘Such as?’
‘Preparing the army to defend Jerusalem against Saladin.’
‘But Saladin is in Egypt.’
‘At the moment, yes but how much longer do you think he will stay there now the threat from the Byzantine fleet has diminished? He has an army over ten thousand strong at his command and it grows by the day.’
Baldwin glanced at William at his side.
‘Is this true?’
‘It is true that Saladin has amassed an army to defend Egypt, your grace but whether he intends to march north is another question.’
‘Of course he will come north,’ sneered Raynald, ‘he has the biggest army seen for many years and sees us as fractured. The only question is when?’
‘And you think that he will attack Jerusalem?’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ asked Raynald.
An awkward silence fell in the room as Baldwin considered the revelations.
‘If this is indeed the case,’ continued the king eventually, ‘what would you have me do to resolve the situation?’
‘If I were in charge,’ said Raynald, ‘I would send your army to Gaza. From there they can watch the southern border and as soon as Saladin as much as breathes in our direction we can mobilise our men to cut him off.’
‘The army is in the north,’ said Baldwin, ‘laying siege to the city of Harim as we speak. To recall them now will negate any advantage we have gained and leave the city in the hands of the Seljuqs. I swore to my father before he died that one day I would return it to Christian governance.’
‘Your grace,’ said Raynald, ‘I would ask yourself this. What is more important to you? A troublesome outpost already in the hands of the Seljuqs or Jerusalem itself?’
‘You declare a devilish consequence, Sir Raynald,’ interjected William, ‘and I am not sure if it is not intended to further your own ambitions.’
‘And what ambitions would you be referring to?’ asked Raynald turning to face the prelate.
‘Your love of death and mayhem are well known. Perhaps you see this as an ideal opportunity to further such activities?’
‘I am not afraid to wreak the Lord's vengeance on unbelievers, that much is true,’ replied Raynald, ‘but to even suggest that such things are done for pleasure or personal gain is an accusation below a man of the cloth.’
‘You misunder
stand me,’ said William calmly. ‘I only point out the perceptions that others may make. Do not mistake my caution with concern, for indeed, it was I that championed your appointment in the first place.’
‘If I was to recall the army,’ said Baldwin, interrupting the pending argument, ‘how long would it take to get back here?’
‘By the time the message reached Harim, your grace,’ said William, ‘and allowing for the siege to be lifted, perhaps two months.’
Baldwin stood up and walked around the room, deep in thought. Both William and Raynald waited patiently in silence. Finally, the king returned and sat back in his chair.
‘I have considered this situation and though I am not convinced about the severity of the threat, I am not willing to risk Jerusalem. Therefore, my decision is this. Our army will stay in Harim, at least for the time being. If we get confirmation that Saladin has started riding north, then we will send for them immediately. In the meantime, we will petition Eudes de St. Amand to send what Templars he has at his command to reinforce the garrison at Gaza along with a detachment of turcopoles. That way, if the Ayyubid come then at least we can slow their progress while my army returns to defend Jerusalem.’
He looked between the two men, receiving slight bows of the head from both in acknowledgement.
‘In addition,’ continued the king, staring directly at Raynald, ‘I will appoint you as Regent of the kingdom and of the armies. You are tasked with defending Jerusalem at all costs.’
Raynald again bowed his head, this time in gratitude.
‘Your grace,’ he said, ‘you have my solemn oath that I will carry out this task, even unto my death.’
‘So be it,’ said Baldwin, ‘leave it with William to arrange the formalities. For now, you are dismissed. Report back to me in three days with a plan of action.’
‘Of course, your grace,’ said Raynald and turned to leave the room.
After he had left, the young king turned to look at William.
‘Well?’ he asked. ‘You have opinions on all things, declare what you are thinking.’
‘I confess I do not like him,’ replied William, ‘but in the circumstances, I believe he is the right man for the role.’
