Templar's Acre

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Next morning, Baldwin was reluctant to tell his team of men the news. He didn’t want to see their faces as they absorbed it.

They had been sent to work on a new catapult being constructed near the castle. Hob was a gifted mechanic, Baldwin was learning, and his abilities improved with every machine they built. This was the largest he had so far attempted.

‘Why so large?’ Baldwin asked as Hob stood eyeing the timbers lying on the ground ready for piecing together.

‘It’s said that the enemy have some of the biggest machines ever seen,’ Hob replied. ‘They can move theirs forward or back to change the range. All we can do is make one that will reach them, no matter how far they may be.’

Baldwin was content with that, but later, when he walked along the walls, thinking of the battle to come, he found himself looking over the plain. He was there, near the Maupas Gate, when he met Sir Otto with another man in German Order tunic, the black cross on his breast.

‘Sir Otto,’ Baldwin said, bowing his head.

‘This is the new Grand Master of the Germans,’ Sir Otto said. His manner was irritable as he asked, ‘What are you looking for? The enemy has not arrived yet.’

‘I was wondering how best to aim the machines, sir,’ Baldwin replied, not understanding Sir Otto’s mood. ‘I thought if we could guess where the Muslims would place their camp, where their men would pitch their tents, we would have a better idea where to point the catapults.’

‘You need not worry about them,’ the German said. He stood and peered over the walls. ‘When they arrive, they will place their tents and horse-lines far beyond our reach. Only those devices intended to attack the city will be at a range to be hit.’

‘Can we try to estimate where they would place them?’ Baldwin wondered.

‘I have some men who are experienced in siege warfare,’ Otto said. ‘What of you, Grand Master?’

‘I will ask.’

Baldwin bowed, and then, emboldened by their apparent acceptance of him, ‘Sir Conrad, I hope God protects you in your new post.’

‘News spreads quickly when a city is in peril,’ Conrad von Feuchtwangen said. He gave Baldwin a serious stare. ‘Hopefully, we shall prevail against our enemies, be they ever so numerous.’

‘God be praised!’ Otto said fervently. ‘Baldwin, I will have two men sent to you at Ivo’s house. Wait for them there. Perhaps they can advise on the best locations to aim for.’

‘I will.’

‘Have you looked at the towers?’ Otto asked.

‘Only the catapult platforms. I have been concentrating on building the machines, sir.’

‘We have been walking the city walls together, and all the towers have their kitchens and cellars ready. The water cisterns have filled over the winter, God be praised! So now we are ready for an attack.’

Baldwin nodded. Each tower was effectively a self-contained fortress. If an assault succeeded and men gained the walls, the towers at each side of the breach would bar their doors and rally men ready to return to the walls and throw their enemies to their deaths, but if even that failed, the towers could hold on until the city could send a force to rescue them.

‘What is the mood of the men?’ Otto asked.

‘Keen to fight, sir,’ Baldwin said. ‘If they don’t see a Muslim soon, they’ll start fighting amongst themselves!’

‘Keep them calm. They’ll see their enemy soon enough. And then this Swiss will show how men can fight and keep their honour,’ he muttered, half to himself.

Conrad von Feuchtwangen shot him a cool look. ‘I have no doubt that the Swiss and the German Order will fight bravely, my friend.’

‘With knights such as you fighting for the city, it is difficult to see how we may not win a glorious reputation,’ Sir Otto said.

Later, resting on a bench, his eyes closed, feeling the ache of overworked muscles, Baldwin mentioned that exchange to Ivo. ‘I didn’t understand what they meant.’

‘Only that both are ashamed.’

‘Why both?’

‘Because of Burchard von Schwanden. He was the leader of the German Order, so his cowardice in leaving now means that they are embarrassed by association. His resignation has reflected badly on the honour of his whole Order.’

‘I can see that. What of Sir Otto?’

‘Did you not know he is Swiss? So was Sir Burchard. So Sir Otto feels he too has something to prove with his fighting in the coming days, to show that he is no coward.’

‘I see,’ Baldwin breathed.

‘The impressive truth is,’ Ivo said, ‘that while the Genoese pigs have fled across the sea, and while one Grand Master facing the most ferocious battle of his life has resigned and followed the Genoese, the majority of the men of the city are still here, determined to fight. And more men arrive each day to supplement their numbers. The Venetians and Pisans have not deserted us. True, they are carting off their best valuables, but they still remain here to protect Acre and the people. I find that reassuring. Perhaps God will give us the means to keep this city.’

‘Lucia, please, come and sit with us,’ Baldwin said.

It was later in the afternoon and she had been dozing on her bed. Hearing his voice, she sprang up, startled, and followed him into the garden where she found Sir Jacques and Ivo.

‘We were talking about your old household. When you were there, you were happy, were you not?’ Jacques said. ‘Until you were sent away?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you were sent away because your mistress was displeased with you?’

‘Yes. She thought I might have spoken about her to Baldwin.’

‘And did you?’

‘No!’

‘So you have been punished while you were loyal to her?’

‘Yes.’

Edgar appeared, wearing a fresh tunic which Ivo had bought for him. ‘Gentles, I cannot sleep. I have been asleep for a year and a day already, or so it feels. May I join you?’

‘Please,’ Jacques said, motioning to a bench. ‘We were talking to this maid about her mistress.’

‘Ah, I know a little about her, too,’ Edgar said. ‘My last master knew her well, didn’t he, Lucia?’

She looked at him, but said nothing. She couldn’t. While she breathed, she was the slave of Maria, and speaking out against her was a crime that would lead to her being beaten or whipped again, if Maria learned of it. She found it hard enough merely being here with all these men. It felt wrong. But then she saw the expression on Edgar’s face, and Baldwin’s, and felt more secure. They wouldn’t see her hurt. Nor would Ivo or Sir Jacques. They were kindly-looking men.

‘What do you mean?’ Baldwin asked.

‘She would visit Master Philip Mainboeuf in his house. They would send away all the other servants, and only have one to serve them — the old bottler whom I still must “thank” for being evicted in so hasty a manner,’ Edgar said.

‘Mainboeuf was having an affair with her?’ Ivo said, and gave a chuckle. ‘Randy git! Good luck to him. She’ll not see him for a while, though, I’d guess. He’ll be otherwise engaged in Cairo for some little time.’

‘She is known for her appetites,’ Jacques said. ‘She is young and beautiful. It is hardly surprising.’

Baldwin shrugged. This was the way of people in Eastern lands, he was coming to learn.

Edgar looked at Lucia. ‘Is it difficult to hear us speak of her, maid?’

‘No,’ she answered honestly. ‘She has hurt me so much, I do not think I could be more injured by her.’

‘Why did she send you away?’ Baldwin asked. ‘Had you offended her in some way?’

‘I cannot speak. She ordered me not to.’

Ivo grunted. ‘She is not your mistress. If there was something you wanted to confide, you can.’

Lucia bit her lip, and thought again. ‘It was only this one thing,’ she said. She spoke reluctantly, but in her mind, she felt that as a slave living in Ivo’s house, she must now answer to him as master. ‘She would visit men. She had me wear her clothing so that her subterfuge would not be noticed. She would have me walk about the city with guards, as though I were her, and she would slip out later to visit her men.’

Baldwin suddenly had a flash of inspiration. ‘You mean that first time I saw you? In the road, close to the Genoese quarter?’

‘Yes. She had sent me to a house to deliver a message, but the man tried to take me when he found me there. And then you followed me, and I thought you would as well, so I ran from you. You looked scary. Almost drunk.’

‘Does that mean she was seeing Mainboeuf?’ Baldwin wondered.

Lucia hung her head. ‘She was very fond of Philip Mainboeuf, I think. She wanted to see him most often. She will be sad that he is lost to her.’

‘She should not be too despairing on his behalf,’ Ivo snapped. ‘The man was selling us to the Muslims. Al-Fakhri told you that.’

Edgar demurred at this. ‘No. My master was many things, but he was not a traitor. He saw how the city could prosper, and followed that route, but he would not willingly sell his city.’

‘So you think,’ Baldwin said.

‘Aye. I knew him well.’

‘Then who would be the traitor to the city?’

‘The Lady Maria, perhaps?’ Baldwin said. ‘That is what Buscarel told me a little while ago.’

‘You’ve had dealings with him?’ Ivo growled.

‘He and I have an accord,’ Baldwin said. He was struck with a mental picture of Lady Maria. Her cold, unfeeling eyes as she threatened him with torture, or the time she told him he would never find Lucia. ‘She has a heart of stone.’

‘She seeks to protect her lands,’ Lucia mumbled, head hanging. It was her last betrayal. Now Lady Maria would never forgive her.

‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said, thinking how lovely Lucia was, especially when she looked so lost and vulnerable.

That night, he did not sleep for a long time, thinking of her. But the following morning, the first desperate farmers from the environs of the city began to arrive, and he had other things to concern him.