Templar's Acre

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Abu al-Fida learned what had happened from their neighbours.

A fire in the middle watches of the night, and screams from within, but none might enter to save his family. Two men tried, so he was told, and one, a brawny Galician who had the house next door, showed him arms still raw and hairless where he had got burned in his attempt to rescue them.

‘I couldn’t do it, old friend,’ he said.

‘What caused it?’ Abu al-Fida asked him brokenly.

‘Who can tell? A falling lamp? A candle? It only takes a little to set a curtain alight, and when that happens, the whole house will catch fire. We did all we could, my friend.’

All we could. If they had only realised that there was a fire sooner, if they had gone to his poor Aisha and his girls, perhaps they would still be alive now.

But such dreams of what might have been served no purpose. His old life was ended, and he must take stock. He must find a new place to live, think about how to renew his fortunes. Grief was a luxury he could ill afford.

At least he still had Usmar.

Baldwin returned to the yard where Roger was still laughing, one of the other women on his lap. He smacked her smartly on the backside and sent her away with a coin. ‘So, you enjoyed your filly? She looked keen.’

Baldwin flushed. ‘She was very kind.’

He could not explain that he had not enjoyed the encounter. The girl had been eager enough, but there was something still about the woman with the green eyes that haunted him. The air of mystery that encompassed her only added to her allure, and this little wench was only a cheap imitation of her.

‘They were good little tickle-tails, I thought?’ Roger said, picking up on Baldwin’s reserve.

Baldwin nodded. ‘It’s not them, it’s another woman.’

‘Oh, you have an object for your affections? Who is this woman?’

‘She is a lady I have seen, a woman in emerald silk.’

‘Maria of Lydda?’ Roger whistled, and surveyed Baldwin with concern. ‘My friend, if you seek to lose your head, there are less painful ways to do it. She can bring you nothing but misery.’

Baldwin gave a weak grin. ‘What would you have me do?’

‘Forget her and make good use of these ladies?’ Roger suggested, turning to point at the women, but they were already gone in search of more lucrative companions. ‘Ach! We shall have to hope to meet them another day, eh?’

Baldwin nodded as Roger chuckled to himself. He rose, threw down some coins for their wine, and the two walked from the tavern and out into the light. There, Roger wished Baldwin godspeed and returned along the street towards the Temple.

It had been too exciting a day for Baldwin to think of going home. Instead, he made his way along the street in the opposite direction. He had a vague thought of going to see the castle, but as he reached the Monastery of San Sabas, realised he had taken too southerly a course. He decided to cut through the Venetian quarter — it would be faster. He continued on, and tried to ignore the enticing odours of fish grilling on a charcoal fire as he passed. After the wine with Roger, his head felt woolly, and he was tempted to go and ask for water from one of the houses near, but the men and women were unwelcoming.

As he was coming from behind the Arsenal, he caught sight of the German Tower ahead of him. Hearing a noise, he turned and saw a woman clad all in emerald. She was standing in a sun-filled alley, and the yellowish rock made her glow with a green fire.

Baldwin could not resist her. This time, she made no move to run from him as he approached. There was something otherworldly about her, as though she would disappear in a moment if he once looked away from her. She attracted his gaze with a magnetism that was impossible to break.

He entered the alleyway and strode towards her, and as he came closer, he saw her smile at him. It was a smile to make his heart melt.

And then the first blow caught him over the ear, and he fell at once into the abyss that opened in front of him.