Jean rode alongside Tudor.
‘Now who is the headstrong one here?’ he asked of him, nodding towards his friend as he sped for the trees.
Tudor was confused. ‘The place looks to be empty of people. There is not sufficient cover for them to hide.’
‘In these places, you need to cast your eyes further, Horseman. Where we see in strides, the Arabs, they see in many miles.’ He pointed towards the hazy summit of a distant dune. ‘If this place is being watched - and I’d wager a fine dagger that it is - there… there is where your heathen will be on his belly, waiting, letting the water lure us in.’
Tudor was alarmed. ‘Should we call Albert back?’
‘Why? We must go to the water, or our horses will die. If Saladin’s men wish to dance with us, let them do so where it is cooler. At least that way they do not have the advantage, their own tempers being accustomed to this accursed heat. Come, let’s see that animal of yours run!’ So saying he spurred on his own startled horse, setting it into a round gallop.
Tudor cursed him for a fool but followed on, reasoning that they should at least be together when the attack came.
In fact, it was to be another two days before they encountered their enemies. They were on the point of making camp when one of their scouts returned, breathless with excitement, saying he had discovered tracks of many horses, camels and infantry. They led south west.
‘Then our commander’s information was correct.’ said Tudor.
Albert nodded. ‘Saladin is heading back towards the coast.’ He spoke in French to their guide and translated to confirm. ‘That way lies the town of Arsuf. Not prized for its beauty, but the Arabs need to keep as many ports as they are able.’
Tudor gazed into the far distance, trying to imagine that a whole army could somehow be hidden in the nothingness. ‘We should quicken our pace,’ he said. ‘If we are to confirm their number as well as their direction, we must catch them up.’
Jean was delighted at this plan. ‘Ah ha! Action at last. No sleep for us this night: we ride on!'
Albert counselled caution. ‘Contain yourself,mon ami.We must remain unseen. Unless you wish the three of us to take on all of Saladin’s forces. Can you imagine the slaughter?’
Jean grinned. ‘But, Albert, imagine the glory!’
Tudor signalled to the others to move on but keep quiet. He rode up front with the scouts, alternately watching to see how they did their tracking and scanning the darkening horizon for signs of the enemy watch. As they progressed through the night he felt increasingly exposed. There were no clouds, just a crisp, cold moon and myriad stars lighting their way. After two hours one of the scouts pointed at the unmistakeable tracks. A tension ran through the line of men and they moved forwards in absolute silence. When they came to the bottom of a high dune, Tudor signalled to the others to wait. He, Jean and a single guard cantered swiftly up the sandy hill, chased by the moon shadows of their horses. A little way off the summit they dismounted, leaving the guard to hold all three mounts. The two men dropped to their bellies and crawled to the crest of the dune.
The sight that greeted them in the valley below caused Tudor’s heart to leap. An army of maybe ten thousand men were peacefully encamped there. At the centre there were some old buildings, suggesting an ancient abandoned village of some sort. There were several trees in a cluster, with no sign of a pool, but a construction that even at that distance Tudor took to be a well. There were thousands of tents, not placed in rows as his own garrison might be, but in small circles,and at the centre of each a fire. Men reclined against their camel saddles, close to the flames to ward off the icy night-time temperatures. Servants scuttled about between the groups. On the perimeter the camels lay dozing and quiet. Beyond them were goats, tended by vigilant herders. At the epicentre was a grander tent than the others, consisting of a colourful collection of awnings and rugs, some hooked back to allow the breeze through or heat of the fire in, depending on the time of day. Somewhere musicians were playing strange, meandering notes on instruments that were unknown to Tudor. He tapped Jean’s arm and whispered to him.
‘It is a city that moves with the shifting sands. So many men. So many beasts. And that must be where Saladin himself sits,’ he said, pointing at the lavish quarters.
‘He makes his city where he pleases. This barren place is a garden to him.’
‘We can return to Acre,’ Tudor whispered. ‘We know now the size of his force and where he is heading. We…’
He was interrupted by shouts from behind them. Both men turned in horror to see a band of Ayyubidi swooping down upon their own men. The attacking group numbered at least twenty, every one of them armed andwell horsed, outnumbering and outmanning their group decisively.
‘Dear God, they will be annihilated!’
He and Jean ran down to their horses, sliding and skidding on the loose sand. Even as they leapt into their saddles they could hear the shouts and cries of their fellow soldiers. Tudor saw Albert wielding his broadsword, slashing at the fast moving Arab attackers as they tore through the small party. Beside him Jean swore more Gallic oaths and then roared as he charged into battle. Tudor’s horse was the faster of the two, but such was Jean’s fury that they arrived to crash into the assailants at the same time. Tudor was horrified to see that their men had not been quick enough to properly protect themselves. While the lone French knight had cut a swathe through the opposing soldiers, there were too many for him to fight alone. Three of their own men were archers who had scarcely time to load their bows.
As Tudor ploughed into the fray he saw Tan and the other servant struggling to stay on their startled, lurching camel. As it spun around, the smaller boy fell. Tan shouted, trying to steer his camel back to him, but the animal had taken fright and bolted, disappearing into the darkness of the distant desert, taking Tan with it.
An Arab soldier swung a scimitar at Tudor so close he felt the air move against his cheek. While the other soldier was off balance, leaning into the swing, he let go the reins, drew his short sword and buried it into the man’s side beneath his arm, where the mail hauberk he wore had a hole. It found its mark and the soldier fell heavily to the ground. Steering his horse with his legs and the angle of his body, Tudor pushed between two more soldiers, despatching one with his longer sword, ducking and dodging a blow from the other. He wheeled his horse about, turning it on its hindquarters with enough speed to evade an axe thrown through the air. He saw Jean remove the head of a luckless rider. It was while he was witnessing this move that the club that felled him connected with the back of his head. He had not time to think how he had been outwitted or who it was who had so successfully knocked him from his horse. By the time he reached the salty, hard ground, blackness had claimed him.
Tudor drifted in and out of consciousness, aware only that he was being carried somewhere, and registering at one point the transition from the desert heat to the coolof an interior. When he finally came to his senses he was not, then, surprised to find himself in a rough walled cell. There was a single high glassless window which let in the light of the coming dawn, and an iron grill for a door which gave onto a dark corridor. The small room was otherwise devoid of features. He sat up, wincing as stabs of pain travelled through his head.
‘Not dead yet, Horseman?’ asked a familiar voice in the gloom.
As his eyes adjusted to the low light, Tudor saw Jean, his face bloodied, sitting on the floor opposite him. In the corner, Albert lay muttering indecipherable words.
‘Albert…?’
‘He’s not dead either. But his temper is even worse than usual. He detests being taken prisoner. Takes it far too personally, if you ask me.’
With some difficulty, Tudor sat up. He looked more closely at Jean. For all the Frenchman’s joking he looked to be in pain. There was a darkness about his features and a tension around his eyes that had not been there before.
