Shadhi, the only person who might have told me the real story, had betrayed me. As I made ready to attend the Council of War, Shadhi entered my head and we had an imaginary argument.
Thirty-Two
The last council of war
EVEN THOUGH IMAD AL-DIN had confided in me that the Sultan regarded the council of war as the most important gathering of this jihad, I was inclined to disbelieve him. I assumed that Imad al-Din was revealing this to me simply to heighten his own importance as the Sultan’s trusted adviser. On this occasion I was wrong.
I had thought that the council of war would be a mere formality, a victory celebration during the course of which the Sultan would announce our departure for Jerusalem. There are some thoughts that one just has to laugh away. This was one of them.
As I entered the crowded chamber where the emirs were gathered, I detected uncertainty and tension. From the back of the chamber I could see the Sultan at a distance, engaged in a conversation with al-Afdal, Imad al-Din and Taki al-Din. The latter appeared to be speaking, with the others nodding vigorously. The emirs made way for me to go through to the Sultan, but they did so as one does for a favoured pet of the ruler. There was no sign of affection or encouragement on their faces. Even Keukburi appeared to be upset.
It was not till I reached the platform where the Sultan was seated that I understood why the emirs were angry. What was being finalised by Salah al-Din and his closest family members was the division of the spoils, always a delicate moment after a city has been captured.
Salah al-Din’s own inclinations were hardly a secret to the emirs. He would have ordered some of the money to be kept for the jihad and the rest shared out equally amongst all those Believers who had marched into the city. But his son reminded him of another tradition followed by rulers during a holy war. Leaving everything to their sons.
Under great pressure, the Sultan had presented the town and all its estates to al-Afdal. The sugar refinery was a gift to Taki al-Din, and the great man of letters had been given a large house. Al-Afdal had already announced all this to the emirs, which was a mistake. They would have grumbled, but accepted the information with considerably more grace, if the Sultan himself had addressed them. Imad al-Din was hostile to the whole idea, and suggested that everything should be put into the war chest to fund the wars that were still to be fought.
“Have no doubt, O Sultan,” he whispered to Salah al-Din, “the Franj will send for help across the water and more knights will arrive. We will need money if they launch their third ‘Crusade’!”
Salah al-Din expressed agreement but shrugged his shoulders in resignation. Then he rose to speak to his emirs. For a moment, the silence was only broken by the cicadas outside.
“I know what some of you are thinking. You are wondering why I am delaying the march to al-Kuds. Let me explain. I do not ever want al-Kuds to fall to the infidels again. If we took it tomorrow — and we might do so without too much trouble, with Allah’s help, since the Franj have lost their best knights in Hattin — that would be a crude mistake. Think, and you will understand what I’m saying. The Franj still occupy the coastal towns. It is in these towns and harbours that the ships will arrive from their distant homes, with more knights, more weapons, more crosses, more alcohol. They will all gather together with the infidels still here and lay siege to al-Kuds. It is simple.
“For that reason we will divide our forces and take all the towns on the coast. As you know I am never happy when our army is divided and when emirs divide to lead squadrons in different battles. But that is what we are going to do before we reach al-Kuds. I want to shake the tree so hard that every orange lies on the ground, except one. That one we will pluck as if it were a rare and precious flower. Let us clear the coast of these infidels.
“For me, Tyre is even more important than al-Kuds. If we take the harbour in that town, we will have the Franj by the throat for ever. The knights who come over the water will feel our fire while still on their ships. You want to know my plan? It is very simple. Listen carefully, for here it is. Ascalon. Jaffa. Saida. Beirut. Jubail, Tartus, Jabala, Latakia, Tyre and then al-Kuds.
“If the Franj were our only enemy, with Allah’s help we would have driven them out of these lands years ago. We have three enemies apart from the Franj. Time, distance and those Believers who prefer to remain in their towers, observing the battle from afar. Like hyenas in their lair, they are too frightened to come out and watch the tigers fight each other. It is these Believers who have heaped shame, cowardice and disgrace on the name of our Prophet, peace be upon him. Let them know that we will win and that they will be disgraced and despised in the eyes of all Believers. Allah will help us conquer them all.”
The Sultan’s words surprised the emirs. They were smiling and nodding as he spoke, and once he finished they chanted in one voice:
“There is only one Allah and He is Allah and Mohammed is His Prophet.”
Keukburi was the first to speak.
“Commander of the Victorious, I am sure I speak for everyone present here when I say that truly you are favoured by Allah. I, too, had felt that we should not delay laying siege to al-Kuds. You have convinced me that I was wrong and that impatience is never a useful guide during a war.
“With your permission I would like to ask you one question.”
The Sultan nodded his agreement.
“The only way we can conquer the coast rapidly is by dividing our forces, but…”
“I know your worries, Keukburi, and I share them. I am always fearful when I dispatch my family or my close companions on expeditions where they are on their own, but this time we truly have no alternative. Speed is essential. I want our soldiers to cover the coast like ants. You, much-trusted Keukburi, must clear the road from Teveriya to here in Acre. Take every village and town, starting with Nazareth where Isa was born. Take the Templars’ castle at al-Fula. Hissam al-Din will take Sebaste and Nablus. Badr al-Din, you will move south and take Haifa, Arsuf and Kaisariya. Taki al-Din will march on Tibnin and Tyre, and I will take Beirut and Saida. Imad al-Din has worked hard and will give each of you an estimate of the resistance you are likely to meet in each of these towns. I think Nablus, where Believers outnumber the Franj by one hundred to one, is the only place where they might surrender. The Franj know of our successes, and elsewhere they might prefer to prolong their agony. In such cases give no quarter. Where they wish to negotiate a surrender, you must be generous, for it is not just Franj lives that are at risk. Allah be with you. We leave tomorrow.”
On the following day, Salah al-Din, attired in a robe of honour and with a necklace of black and white pearls around his neck, made his way out of the city in a great procession. He was accompanied by all his emirs, who had come to say farewell before their own departures. The Sultan had selected his swordsmen, lancers and archers. They were men who had fought with him for several years. Imad al-Din and I rode by his side. Outside the gates of Acre we paused so that the Sultan could exchange a few last words with the emirs. Taki al-Din and Keukburi rode up to him, dismounted and kissed his robe. His expression became tender at the sight of these two young men, who had grown up before his eyes and who he trusted as much as he trusted himself. He smiled and told them to be on their way.