As far as Taki al-Din was concerned this was no surprise. He was Salah al-Din’s favourite nephew and he treated him as he himself had once been treated by his own uncle Shirkuh. In fact, Taki al-Din’s presence caused the Sultan to shed the instinctive caution he had inherited from Ayyub, his father. He had once told me that in times of crisis there was a battle for his soul between Ayyub and Shirkuh, and it was pure luck as to which of them won. Taki al-Din reminded him of his own youth, and in some ways he wished that this nephew rather than al-Afdal, his own son, could succeed him. This he had confessed, not to me but to old Shadhi, who had eagerly passed on the information. On this question he agreed enthusiastically with Salah al-Din.
Emir Keukburi was a different matter altogether. There had been a time, only three or four years ago, when Salah al-Din had provoked widespread incredulity and ordered his arrest. It was the time when he was consolidating his empire to prepare for the day that had now arrived. It had taken the Sultan three days, with the help of Keukburi and his men, to ferry his troops across the Euphrates. He had then marched on to Harran. There, he had spent a morning playing chogan with his host. When the game was over, the Sultan’s bodyguards had placed the Emir Keukburi under arrest. Pigeons carried the news to Cairo and Damascus.
The Kadi al-Fadil was on one of his tours of inspection around Cairo. He was stunned by the news and immediately wrote a powerful and moving plea to Salah al-Din. He has given me a copy of the letter for my book. It read as follows:
Most Gracious and Generous Sultan:
A letter from Imad al-Din informs me that you are angry with Keukburi and have had him arrested. I remember well the heat and dust of Harran, which affects us all, and I have little doubt that your kindness and generosity will once again prevail over your anger. I know you have Imad al-Din by your side, but if you feel that my presence, too, might be useful or desirable, I will banish my dislike of Harran. I will make way by mule, endure the wretched heat without a tent, and be at your side very soon. I am disturbed and slightly confused by what I hear. I think the Sultan has made an error of judgement.
Emir Keukburi regards you as a father. He has always been loyal and has proved himself by persuading his brother to back you against the Lords of Mosul. He was an example to all who wished to serve your cause. The intimacy you have shown him has undoubtedly gone to his head. He is like a young pup who, when stroked too often by his master, sometimes bites him. Yet the bite expresses an overflowing affection rather than anger. I would be prepared to offer my own head to the executioner’s blade if Keukburi ever betrays our interests. He is young, ambitious, and wants to prove himself in battle by your side.
Imad al-Din writes that you were retaliating because Keukburi had promised 50,000 dinars to the Treasury the day you reached Harran, and then reneged on his pledge, claiming that it had been made by an envoy who had not consulted him. Since the money is for the jihad, I know how angry this must have made you, but your generosity is the source of all the pure, sweet water that flows in our lands. Forgive him and I can assure you that he will have learnt his lesson.
Your humble servant, al-Fadil.
Keukburi was pardoned and never offended the Sultan again. But the cause was not simply the confusion over the payment of 50,000 dinars. The Sultan told me that the matter had been far more serious. Keukburi had been the intermediary between his brother, the Emir of Irbil, and the Sultan. In return for his loyalty, Keukburi had negotiated extra lands for his brother. Once the Sultan was in complete control of the region, Keukburi had suggested that the lands given to his brother should be transferred to his own estate. The proposal had enraged Salah al-Din, for whom family loyalty was a critical test of a person’s character. He had contemptuously rejected the suggestion and begun to doubt Keukburi’s loyalty to himself.
These facts were not divulged to al-Fadil by Imad al-Din for the simple reason that the great scholar had become infatuated with the Emir of Harran. He was, if the truth be told, a strikingly handsome specimen, though not inclined to the pleasures favoured by our worthy bibliophile.
After a few months, Keukburi was pardoned. He was never to fall out of step with Salah al-Din again. He learnt, as al-Fadil had so wisely predicted, that there were some things in this world more precious to the Sultan than all the wealth of China and India. These included keeping one’s word to both friend and foe. On this he could never be challenged, let alone be convinced of an alternative course of action.
Keukburi had earned back his Sultan’s trust, and now, even as we gathered in this assembly, he and Taki al-Din were camped in the valley of Galilee, patiently awaiting Salah al-Din’s arrival. Only then could they finalise their plans.
I realised that I had been invited, for the first time, to observe a council of war. The Sultan had clearly been speaking for some time. The interruption of my late arrival over, he continued to persuade them with a mixture of guile and flattery.
“Our desires are always disappointed by reality. That, as good Imad al-Din will tell you, is a fact of life. There are few of us who can say that everything they wished has come to pass. My enemies, of which there are not a few, say to the Caliph: ‘Salah al-Din prefers to attack us and forget the infidels.’ They say that all I am interested in is establishing my own family in power and amassing wealth. What they accuse me of is what they do themselves. It is much easier, I suppose, to burden me with their guilt. Yet before this year is over, these tongues will be silenced forever.
“I know that some of you are reluctant to attack the Franj at this particular time. Perhaps you are correct to be apprehensive, but those who delay too long, those who only go halfway, usually end up digging their own graves.
“Let me speak plainly. We do not have more time. Allah alone knows how much longer I have in this world. As I look at you, I see men who have fought so many battles that nature has prematurely aged them. I see grey hairs in all your beards. None of us has a great deal of time.
“Our spies report that the Franj have between twelve and fifteen thousand knights and twenty thousand soldiers on foot to defend their Kingdom of Jerusalem. We must prepare an army which will destroy their backbone. An army of Believers that will scale the walls of al-Kuds and ensure that the familiar and reassuring cry, ‘Allah is Great’, is heard once again in that great city.
“This time we must cut them so deep that they leave our lands and never return. Our army is the only army that can achieve this aim. Not because Allah has given us more brains or more strength, but because we alone pursue such an end. It is our determination that will give strength to those who fight under our banners. Soon we will wipe out the stain of our defeat at the hands of these barbarians for ever. I am not given to proud boasts, for they have been the downfall of Believers. Yet I am burning with confidence.
“Our soldiers from Misr and Sham alone could defeat the enemy, but everyone now wants to be on our side. The Emirs of Mosul, Sinjar, Irbil and Harran all want to be represented in our army. The Kurds in the mountains beyond the Tigris are promising us a band of warriors. In the past, they often resented the successes of my father and my uncle Shirkuh. Now they have pledged themselves to join in the battle for al-Kuds or to die in the attempt. Their messenger came yesterday and told me that they will only fight by our side if they are allowed to be the first to take the city. Strange, is it not, Imad al-Din, how the smell of success travels so far and so fast?”