The Brethren

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"It burns like a city in hell," she said, staring at Masyaf,
environed by that lurid evening light and canopied with black,
smoke-like clouds. "Oh! such I think will be its doom."

"I trust so," answered Wulf fervently. "At least, in this world
and the next we have done with it."

"Yes," added Godwin in his thoughtful voice; "still, out of that
evil place we won good, for there we found Rosamund, and there,
my brother, you conquered in such a fray as you can never hope to
fight again, gaining great glory, and perhaps much more."

Then reining in his horse, Godwin fell back behind the litter,
while Wulf wondered, and Rosamund watched him with dreaming eyes.

That evening they camped in the desert, and next morning,
surrounded by wandering tribes of Bedouins mounted on their
camels, marched on again, sleeping that night in the ancient
fortress of Baalbec, whereof the garrison and people, having been
warned by runners of the rank and titles of Rosamund came out to
do her homage as their lady.

Hearing of it, she left her litter, and mounting a splendid horse
which they had sent her as a present, rode to meet them, the
brethren, in full armour and once more bestriding Flame and
Smoke, beside her, and a guard of Saladin's own Mameluks behind.
Solemn, turbaned men, who had been commanded so to do by
messengers from the Sultan, brought her the keys of the gates on
a cushion, minstrels and soldiers marched before her, whilst
crowding the walls and running alongside came the citizens in
their thousands. Thus she went on, through the open gates, past
the towering columns of ruined temples once a home of the worship
of heathen gods, through courts and vaults to the citadel
surrounded by its gardens that in dead ages had been the
Acropolis of forgotten Roman emperors.

Here in the portico Rosamund turned her horse, and received the
salutations of the multitude as though she also were one of the
world's rulers. Indeed, it seemed to the brethren watching her as
she sat upon the great white horse and surveyed the shouting,
bending crowd with flashing eyes, splendid in her bearing and
beautiful to see, a prince at her stirrup and an army at her
back, that none of those who had trod that path before her could
have seemed greater or more glorious in the hour of their pride
than did this English girl, who by the whim of Fate had suddenly
been set so high. Truly by blood and nature she was fitted to be
a queen. Yet as Rosamund sat thus the pride passed from her face,
and her eyes fell.

"Of what are you thinking?" asked Godwin at her side.

"That I would we were back among the summer fields at Steeple,"
she answered, "for those who are lifted high fall low. Prince
Hassan, give the captains and people my thanks and bid them be
gone. I would rest."

Thus for the first and last time did Rosamund behold her ancient
fief of Baalbec, which her grandsire, the great Ayoub, had ruled
before her.

That night there was feasting in the mighty, immemorial halls,
and singing and minstrelsy and the dancing of fair women and the
giving of gifts. For Baalbec, where birth and beauty were ever
welcome, did honour to its lady, the favoured niece of the mighty
Salah-ed-din. Yet there were some who murmured that she would
bring no good fortune to the Sultan or this his city, who was not
all of the blood of Ayoub, but half a Frank, and a Cross
worshipper, though even these praised her beauty and her royal
bearing. The brethren they praised also, although these were
unbelievers, and the tale of how Wulf had fought the traitor
knight upon the Narrow Way, and of how they had led their
kinswoman from the haunted fortress of Masyaf, was passed from
mouth to mouth. At dawn the next day, on orders received from
the Sultan, they left Baalbec, escorted by the army and many of
the notables of the town. That afternoon they drew rein upon the
heights which overlook the city of Damascus, Bride of the Earth,
set amidst its seven streams and ringed about with gardens, one
of the most beautiful and perhaps the most ancient city in the
world. Then they rode down to the bounteous plain, and as night
fell, having passed the encircling gardens, were escorted through
the gates of Damascus, outside of which most of the army halted
and encamped.

Along the narrow streets, bordered by yellow, flat-roofed houses,
they rode slowly, looking now at the motley, many-coloured
crowds, who watched them with grave interest, and now at the
stately buildings, domed mosques and towering minarets, which
everywhere stood out against the deep blue of the evening sky.
Thus at length they came to an open space planted like a garden,
beyond which was seen a huge and fantastic castle that Hassan
told them was the palace of Salah-ed-din. In its courtyard they
were parted, Rosamund being led away by officers of state, whilst
the brethren were taken to chambers that had been prepared,
where, after they had bathed, they were served with food.
Scarcely had they eaten it when Hassan appeared, and bade them
follow him. Passing down various passages and across a court they
came to some guarded doors, where the soldiers demanded that they
should give up their swords and daggers.

"It is not needful," said Hassan, and they let them go by. Next
came more passages and a curtain, beyond which they found
themselves in a small, domed room, lit by hanging silver lamps
and paved in tesselated marbles, strewn with rich rugs and
furnished with cushioned couches.

At a sign from Hassan the brethren stood still in the centre of
this room, and looked about them wondering. The place was empty
and very silent; they felt afraid--of what they knew not.
Presently curtains upon its further side opened and through them
came a man turbaned and wrapped in a dark robe, who stood awhile
in the shadow, gazing at them beneath the lamps.

The man was not very tall, and slight in build, yet about him was
much majesty, although his garb was such as the humblest might
have worn. He came forward, lifting his head, and they saw that
his features were small and finely cut; that he was bearded, and
beneath his broad brow shone thoughtful yet at times piercing
eyes which were brown in hue. Now the prince Hassan sank to his
knees and touched the marble with his forehead, and, guessing
that they were in the presence of the mighty monarch Saladin, the
brethren saluted in their western fashion. Presently the Sultan
spoke in a low, even voice to Hassan, to whom he motioned that he
should rise, saying:

"I can see that you trust these knights, Emir," and he pointed to
their great swords.

"Sire," was the answer, "I trust them as I trust myself. They are
brave and honourable men, although they be infidels."

The Sultan stroked his beard.

"Ay," he said, "infidels. It is a pity, yet doubtless they
worship God after their own fashion. Noble to look on also, like
their father, whom I remember well, and, if all I hear is true,
brave indeed. Sir Knights, do you understand my language?"

"Sufficiently to speak it, lord," answered Godwin, "who have
learned it since childhood, yet ill enough."

"Good. Then tell me, as soldiers to a soldier, what do you seek
from Salah-ed-din?"

"Our cousin, the lady Rosamund, who, by your command, lord, was
stolen from our home in England."

"Knights, she is your cousin, that I know, as surely as I know
that she is my niece. Tell me now, is she aught more to you?" and
he searched them with those piercing eyes.

Godwin looked at Wulf, who said in English:

"Speak the whole truth, brother. From that man nothing can be
hid."

Then Godwin answered:

"Sire, we love her, and are affianced to her."

The Sultan stared at them in surprise.

"What! Both of you?" he asked.

"Yes, both."

"And does she love you both?"

"Yes," replied Godwin, "both, or so she says."

Saladin stroked his beard and considered them, while Hassan
smiled a little.

"Then, knights," he said presently, "tell me, which of you does
she love best?"

"That, sire, is known to her alone. When the time comes, she will
say, and not before."

"I perceive," said Saladin, "that behind this riddle hides a
story. If it is your good pleasure, be seated, and set it out to
me."

So they sat down on the divan and obeyed, keeping nothing back
from the beginning to the end, nor, although the tale was long,
did the Sultan weary of listening.

"A great story, truly," he said, when at length they had
finished, "and one in which I seem to see the hand of Allah. Sir
Knights, you will think that I have wronged you--ay, and your
uncle, Sir Andrew, who was once my friend, although an older man
than I, and who, by stealing away my sister, laid the foundations
of this house of love and war and woe, and perchance of happiness
unforeseen.

"Now listen. The tale that those two Frankish knaves, the priest
and the false knight Lozelle, told to you was true. As I wrote to
your uncle in my letter, I dreamed a dream. Thrice I dreamed it;
that this niece of mine lived, and that if I could bring her here
to dwell at my side she should save the shedding of much blood by
some noble deed of hers--ay, of the blood of tens of thousands;
and in that dream I saw her face. Therefore I stretched out my
arm and took her from far away. And now, through you--yes,
through you--she has been snatched from the power of the great
Assassin, and is safe in my court, and therefore henceforth I am
your friend."

"Sire, have you seen her?" asked Godwin.

"Knights, I have seen her, and the face is the face of my dreams,
and therefore I know full surely that in those dreams God spoke.
Listen, Sir Godwin and Sir Wulf," Saladin went on in a changed
voice, a stern, commanding voice. "Ask of me what you will, and,
Franks though you are, it shall be given you for your service's
sake--wealth, lands, titles, all that men desire and I can
grant--but ask not of me my niece, Rose of the World, princess of
Baalbec, whom Allah has brought to me for His own purposes. Know,
moreover, that if you strive to steal her away you shall
certainly die; and that if she escapes from me and I recapture
her, then she shall die. These things I have told her already,
and I swear them in the name of Allah. Here she is, and in my
house she must abide until the vision be fulfilled."

Now in their dismay the brethren looked at each other, for they
seemed further from their desire than they had been even in the
castle of Sinan. Then a light broke upon the face of Godwin, and
he stood up and answered:

"Dread lord of all the East, we hear you and we know our risk.
You have given us your friendship; we accept it, and are
thankful, and seek no more. God, you say, has brought our lady
Rosamund to you for His own purposes, of which you have no doubt
since her face is the very face of your dreams. Then let His
purposes be accomplished according to His will, which may be in
some way that we little guess. We abide His judgment Who has
guided us in the past, and will guide us in the future."

"Well spoken," replied Saladin. "I have warned you, my guests,
therefore blame me not if I keep my word; but I ask no promise
from you who would not tempt noble knights to lie. Yes, Allah has
set this strange riddle; by Allah let it be answered in His
season."

Then he waved his hand to show that the audience was ended.



Chapter Seventeen: The Brethren Depart from Damascus

At the court of Saladin Godwin and Wulf were treated with much
honour. A house was given them to dwell in, and a company of
servants to minister to their comfort and to guard them. Mounted
on their swift horses, Flame and Smoke, they were taken out into
the desert to hunt, and, had they so willed, it would have been
easy for them to out-distance their retinue and companions and
ride away to the nearest Christian town. Indeed, no hand would
have been lifted to stay them who were free to come or go. But
whither were they to go without Rosamund?

Saladin they saw often, for it pleased him to tell them tales of
those days when their father and uncle were in the East, or to
talk with them of England and the Franks, and even now and again
to reason with Godwin on matters of religion. Moreover, to show
his faith in them, he gave them the rank of officers of his own
bodyguard, and when, wearying of idleness, they asked it of him,
allowed them to take their share of duty in the guarding of his
palace and person. This, at a time when peace still reigned
between Frank and Saracen, the brethren were not ashamed to do,
who received no payment for their services.

Peace reigned indeed, but Godwin and Wulf could guess that it
would not reign for long. Damascus and the plain around it were
one great camp, and every day new thousands of wild tribesmen
poured in and took up the quarters that had been prepared for
them. They asked Masouda, who knew everything, what it meant. She
answered:

"It means the jihad, the Holy War, which is being preached in
every mosque throughout the East. It means that the great
struggle between Cross and Crescent is at hand, and then,
pilgrims Peter and John, you will have to choose your standard."

"There can be little doubt about that," said Wulf.

"None," replied Masouda, with one of her smiles, "only it may
pain you to have to make war upon the princess of Baalbec and her
uncle, the Commander of the Faithful."

Then she went, still smiling. For this was the trouble of it:
Rosamund, their cousin and their love, had in truth become the
princess of Baalbec--for them. She lived in great state and
freedom, as Saladin had promised that she should live in his
letter to Sir Andrew D'Arcy. No insult or violence were offered
to her faith; no suitor was thrust upon her. But she was in a
land where women do not consort with men, especially if they be
high-placed. As a princess of the empire of Saladin, she must
obey its rules, even to veiling herself when she went abroad, and
exchanging no private words with men. Godwin and Wulf prayed
Saladin that they might be allowed to speak with her from time to
time, but he only answered shortly:

"Sir Knights, our customs are our customs. Moreover, the less you
see of the princess of Baalbec the better I think it will be for
her, for you, whose blood I do not wish to have upon my hands,
and for myself, who await the fulfilment of that dream which the
angel brought."

Then the brethren left his presence sore at heart, for although
they saw her from time to time at feasts and festivals, Rosamund
was as far apart from them as though she sat in Steeple
Hall--ay, and further. Also they came to see that of rescuing her
from Damascus there was no hope at all. She dwelt in her own
palace, whereof the walls were guarded night and day by a company
of the Sultan's Mameluks, who knew that they were answerable for
her with their lives. Within its walls, again, lived trusted
eunuchs, under the command of a cunning fellow named Mesrour,
and her retinue of women, all of them spies and watchful. How
could two men hope to snatch her from the heart of such a host
and to spirit her out of Damascus and through its encircling
armies?

One comfort, however, was left to them. When she reached the
court Rosamund had prayed of the Sultan that Masouda should not
be separated from her, and this because of the part she had
played in his niece's rescue from the power of Sinan, he had
granted, though doubtfully. Moreover, Masouda, being a person of
no account except for her beauty, and a heretic, was allowed to
go where she would and to speak with whom she wished. So, as she
wished to speak often with Godwin, they did not lack for tidings
of Rosamund.

From her they learned that in a fashion the princess was happy
enough--who would not be that had just escaped from
Al-je-bal?--yet weary of the strange Eastern life, of the
restraints upon her, and of her aimless days; vexed also that she
might not mix with the brethren. Day by day she sent them her
greetings, and with them warnings to attempt nothing--not even
to see her--since there was no hope that they would succeed. So
much afraid of them was the Sultan, Rosamund said, that both she
and they were watched day and night, and of any folly their lives
would pay the price. When they heard all this the brethren began
to despair, and their spirits sank so low that they cared not
what should happen to them.

Then it was that a chance came to them of which the issue was to
make them still more admired by Saladin and to lift Masouda to
honour. One hot morning they were seated in the courtyard of
their house beside the fountain, staring at the passers-by
through the bars of the bronze gates and at the sentries who
marched to and fro before them. This house was in one of the
principal thoroughfares of Damascus, and in front of it flowed
continually an unending, many-coloured stream of folk.

There were white-robed Arabs of the desert, mounted on their
grumbling camels; caravans of merchandise from Egypt or
elsewhere; asses laden with firewood or the grey, prickly growth
of the wild thyme for the bakers' ovens; water-sellers with their
goatskin bags and chinking brazen cups; vendors of birds or
sweetmeats; women going to the bath in closed and curtained
litters, escorted by the eunuchs of their households; great lords
riding on their Arab horses and preceded by their runners, who
thrust the crowd asunder and beat the poor with rods; beggars,
halt, maimed, and blind, beseeching alms; lepers, from whom all
shrank away, who wailed their woes aloud; stately companies of
soldiers, some mounted and some afoot; holy men, who gave
blessings and received alms; and so forth, without number and
without end.

Godwin and Wulf, seated in the shade of the painted house,
watched them gloomily. They were weary of this ever-changing
sameness, weary of the eternal glare and glitter of this
unfamiliar life, weary of the insistent cries of the mullahs on
the minarets, of the flash of the swords that would soon be red
with the blood of their own people; weary, too, of the hopeless
task to which they were sworn. Rosamund was one of this
multitude; she was the princess of Baalbec, half an Eastern by
her blood, and growing more Eastern day by day--or so they
thought in their bitterness. As well might two Saracens hope to
snatch the queen of England from her palace at Westminster, as
they to drag the princess of Baalbec out of the power of a
monarch more absolute than any king of England.

So they sat silent since they had nothing to say, and stared now
at the passing crowd, and now at the thin stream of water falling
continually into the marble basin.

Presently they heard voices at the gate, and, looking up, saw a
woman wrapped in a long cloak, talking with the guard, who with a
laugh thrust out his arm, as though to place it round her. Then a
knife flashed, and the soldier stepped back, still laughing, and
opened the wicket. The woman came in. It was Masouda. They rose
and bowed to her, but she passed before them into the house.
Thither they followed, while the soldier at the gate laughed
again, and at the sound of his mockery Godwin's cheek grew red.
Even in the cool, darkened room she noticed it, and said,
bitterly enough:

"What does it matter? Such insults are my daily bread whom they
believe--" and she stopped.

"They had best say nothing of what they believe to me," muttered
Godwin.

"I thank you," Masouda answered, with a sweet, swift smile, and,
throwing off her cloak, stood before them unveiled, clad in the
white robes that befitted her tall and graceful form so well, and
were blazoned on the breast with the cognizance of Baalbec. "Well
for you," she went on, "that they hold me to be what I am not,
since otherwise I should win no entry to this house."

"What of our lady Rosamund?" broke in Wulf awkwardly, for, like
Godwin, he was pained.

Masouda laid her hand upon her breast as though to still its
heaving, then answered:

"The princess of Baalbec, my mistress, is well and as ever,
beautiful, though somewhat weary of the pomp in which she finds
no joy. She sent her greetings, but did not say to which of you
they should be delivered, so, pilgrims, you must share them."

Godwin winced, but Wulf asked if there were any hope of seeing
her, to which Masouda answered:

"None," adding, in a low voice, "I come upon another business. Do
you brethren wish to do Salah-ed-din a service?"

"I don't know. What is it?" asked Godwin gloomily.

"Only to save his life--for which he may be grateful, or may not,
according to his mood."

"Speak on," said Godwin, "and tell us how we two Franks can save
the life of the Sultan of the East."

"Do you still remember Sinan and his fedais? Yes--they are not
easily forgotten, are they? Well, to-night he has plotted to
murder Salah-ed-din, and afterwards to murder you if he can, and
to carry away your lady Rosamund if he can, or, failing that, to
murder her also. Oh! the tale is true enough. I have it from one
of them under the Signet--surely that Signet has served us
well--who believes, poor fool, that I am in the plot. Now, you
are the officers of the bodyguard who watch in the ante-chamber
to-night, are you not? Well, when the guard is changed at
midnight, the eight men who should replace them at the doors of
the room of Salah-ed-din will not arrive; they will be decoyed
away by a false order. In their stead will come eight murderers,
disguised in the robes and arms of Mameluks. They look to deceive
and cut you down, kill Salah-ed-din, and escape by the further
door. Can you hold your own awhile against eight men, think you?"

"We have done so before and will try," answered Wulf. "But how
shall we know that they are not Mameluks?"

"Thus--they will wish to pass the door, and you will say, 'Nay,
sons of Sinan,' whereon they will spring on you to kill you. Then
be ready and shout aloud."

"And if they overcome us," asked Godwin, "then the Sultan would
be slain?"

"Nay, for you must lock the door of the chamber of Salah-ed-din
and hide away the key. The sound of the fighting will arouse the
outer guard ere hurt can come to him. Or," she added, after
thinking awhile, "perhaps it will be best to reveal the plot to
the Sultan at once."

"No, no," answered Wulf; "let us take the chance. I weary of
doing nothing here. Hassan guards the outer gate. He will come
swiftly at the sound of blows."

"Good," said Masouda; "I will see that he is there and awake. Now
farewell, and pray that we may meet again. I say nothing of this
story to the princess Rosamund until it is done with." Then
throwing her cloak about her shoulders, she turned and went.

"Is that true, think you?" asked Wulf of Godwin.

"We have never found Masouda to be a liar," was his answer.
"Come; let us see to our armour, for the knives of those fedai
are sharp."

It was near midnight, and the brethren stood in the small, domed
ante-chamber, from which a door opened into the sleeping rooms of
Saladin. The guard of eight Mameluks had left them, to be met by
their relief in the courtyard, according to custom, but no relief
had as yet appeared in the ante-chamber.

"It would seem that Masouda's tale is true," said Godwin, and
going to the door he locked it, and hid the key beneath a
cushion.

Then they took their stand in front of the locked door, before
which hung curtains, standing in the shadow with the light from
the hanging silver lamps pouring down in front of them. Here they
waited awhile in silence, till at length they heard the tramp of
men, and eight Mameluks, clad in yellow above their mail, marched
in and saluted.

"Stand!" said Godwin, and they stood a minute, then began to edge
forward.

"Stand!" said both the brethren again, but still they edged
forward.

"Stand, sons of Sinan!" they said a third time, drawing their
swords.

Then with a hiss of disappointed rage the fedai came at them.

"A D'Arcy! A D'Arcy! Help for the Sultan!" shouted the brethren,
and the fray began.

Six of the men attacked them, and while they were engaged with
these the other two slipped round and tried the door, only to
find it fast. Then they also turned upon the brethren, thinking
to take the key from off their bodies. At the first rush two of
the fedai went down beneath the sweep of the long swords, but
after that the murderers would not come close, and while some
engaged them in front, others strove to pass and stab them from
behind. Indeed, a blow from one of their long knives fell upon
Godwin's shoulder, but the good mail turned it.

"Give way," he cried to Wulf, "or they will best us."

So suddenly they gave way before them till their backs were
against the door, and there they stood, shouting for help and
sweeping round them with their swords into reach of which the
fedai dare not come. Now from without the chamber rose a cry and
tumult, and the sound of heavy blows falling upon the gates that
the murderers had barred behind them, while upon the further side
of the door, which he could not open, was heard the voice of the
Sultan demanding to know what passed.

The fedai heard these sounds also, and read in them their doom.
Forgetting caution in their despair and rage, they hurled
themselves upon the brethren, for they thought that if they could
get them down they might still break through the door and slay
Salah-ed-din before they themselves were slain. But for awhile
the brethren stopped their rush with point and buckler, wounding
two of them sorely; and when at length they closed in upon them,
the gates were burst, and Hassan and the outer guard were at
hand.