第87章 The Brethren Depart from Damascus(1)
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.