“We begin in the Name of Allah the Merciful, the Beneficent, and his Prophet who showed us the true path. Our Sultan Yusuf Salah al-Din ibn Ayyub has brought the crescent back to this Holy City. He is the upholder of the true faith, the vanquisher of those who worship a Cross and graven images. You have revived the Empire of the Commander of the Faithful in Baghdad. Let us pray to Allah that angels may always surround your banners and preserve you for the future of our Faith. May Allah save you and your children for all time to come.
“Here it was that Omar, whose memory we revere, first planted the colours of our faith, not long after the passing away of the Prophet, may he rest in peace. Here it was then, that this great mosque was built. All of you who have fought for this day are blessed forever. You have rekindled the spirit of Badr. You have been as steadfast as Abu Bakr, fearless and generous like Omar. You remind us of the fierceness of Uthman and Ali. The first four Caliphs, watching you from heaven, are smiling today. All those who fought for this city will enter paradise.
“Soon afterwards our armies carried the Holy Koran on their swords across the deserts of Africa and to the mountains of Andalus and the lands of the Franj. It was from here that our message was taken to the lands of the fire-worshippers. The people of Persia, once we had shared our knowledge of the true path decreed by Allah, were the first to convert to our cause. As the Sultan has heard many times, one reason why Persia fell into our hands like a ripe apricot is that the poorest of the poor, those who were downtrodden and exploited by degenerate priests, were amazed at the sight of our great generals sharing food from the same vessel as the ordinary soldiers. They saw for themselves that, before the eyes of Allah, we were all equal.
“We reached the great Indian river Indus and here, too, the poor flocked behind our banners. Even as we speak our traders bear our message to the south of India, the islands of Java and onward to China. I ask you all, is it not a sign from Allah that he enabled us to reach all the corners of the world in such a short time?
“That is why it is all the more disgraceful that the Franj have been permitted to occupy our coast and this Holy City for so long without fear of punishment. Yusuf Salah al-Din ibn Ayyub, it is thanks to you and your persistence, your courage, your willingness to sacrifice your own life, which is precious to Believers everywhere, that we are praying at al-Aqsa once again. We pray to Allah to prolong your life and your rule over these lands. In one hand you carry a sharp sword. In the other a shining torch…”
The sermon lasted a whole hour. It was not a memorable speech in itself, but the majesty of the occasion held everyone. After he had finished, a common prayer of thanks to Allah was offered by the congregation. Then the Kadi of Aleppo stepped down and was embraced and kissed by the Sultan and soon after by the Kadi al-Fadil and Imad al-Din. Al-Fadil was in a joyous mood. When the Sultan asked him what he had thought of the sermon, the reply was poetic.
“O Commander of the Victorious, listening to the sermon the heavens wept tears of joy and the stars abandoned their positions in the firmament not to shoot on the wicked, but to celebrate together.”
Imad al-Din, who later confessed that he had found the sermon tedious and uninspired in the extreme, now applauded al-Fadil and smiled warmly in the direction of the Kadi of Aleppo.
That same evening the Sultan called a council of war. Taki al-Din, Keukburi, al-Afdal, Imad al-Din, al-Fadil and myself were the only people present. The Sultan was in a generous and self-deprecatory mood.
“Let us first thank Imad al-Din, who always stressed the importance of taking this city. You were correct, as you often are, old friend. Keukburi it was who insisted that we do not lift the siege of Tyre. You too were correct. I want the army to take Tyre without further delay. Let them rest. Let them celebrate, but then we take Tyre. A letter arrived this morning from Bertrand of Toulouse. Remember him? The knight whose life we saved from the wrath of the Templars and who returned safely to his home thanks to our merchants. Imad al-Din will read the letter now. I know that we would all have preferred the presence of that beautiful Copt, who translates the Latin into our language with such grace that even those of us who do not swim on the same shores as Imad al-Din could not but admire his beauty. Alas, he is away, old teacher. It is only appropriate that you take his place.”
If Imad al-Din was surprised at the Sultan’s indelicacy he managed to conceal his feelings admirably. Everyone else exchanged knowing smiles. It was common knowledge that Imad al-Din was besotted with Tarik ibn Isa and had been pursuing him like a wolf on the fourteenth night of the moon. Imad al-Din read the letter from Bertrand of Toulouse to himself.
“If the Sultan and the emirs will forgive me, I will summarise its contents. Unlike the Copt I am a faltering translator. Our friend in Toulouse writes that they are preparing a massive army to retake Jerusalem. He says that their Pope has already called on the Kings of England, France and Germany to unite their armies and save the honour of the Worshippers of the Cross. He writes that of the three Kings, two have feeble heads full of imperial vapours. One alone is to be feared, for he is like an animal. He refers to Richard of England, whom he describes in the letter as a bad son, an even worse husband who cannot satisfy his wife nor any other woman but has a fondness for young men, a selfish ruler and a vicious and evil man, but not lacking in courage. He does not know when they will set sail, but thinks it could be after a year or more, since funds must be collected. He advises that we use this time to capture every port so that the ships from their lands are destroyed while still at sea. He further advises the Sultan to prepare a fleet that will give battle on water. He feels it is our weakness that we have never taken sea-war as seriously as we do the battles on the land. He signs himself the Sultan’s most humble servant and follower and prays for the day when our armies will cross the water and take the Pope prisoner. He informs us that one of the knights accompanying Richard, a certain Robert of St Albans, is a secret heretic, that is, a true believer, and will be useful to our cause.”
The Sultan smiled.
“I think we should ask our friend to return to our side. He is an astute thinker. This letter makes the capture of Tyre our most important objective. Are we agreed? Have you noted all this down, Ibn Yakub?”
I nodded.
The next afternoon, as I was preparing to accompany John of Jerusalem to the site of the old Temple, where others of our faith who had returned to Jerusalem were gathering to offer prayers of thanksgiving for the return of the city to the Sultan, a retainer surprised me by his insistence that Salah al-Din was awaiting my presence. I was surprised, since he had explicitly given me his blessing to participate in the ceremony. Nonetheless I followed the retainer to the royal chamber.
He was sitting on his bed, his face lined with worry. He must have been informed before everyone else. As I entered he rose from his bed and, to my amazement, embraced me and kissed my cheeks. His eyes had filled with tears. I knew that something terrible must have happened to my Rachel.
“We received a dispatch from Cairo, Ibn Yakub. The news is bad and you must be brave. A small party of Franj knights, enraged by the loss of this city and drunk on anger, rode into Cairo and raided the quarter where your people live. They burnt some houses and killed old men, before the alarm was given and our soldiers captured all of them. They were all executed the next morning. Your house, my friend, was one of them. Nobody survived. I have instructed al-Fadil to make arrangements for you to be taken to Cairo tomorrow morning. You may stay there as long as you wish.”