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The Saracens tried to break the line but they could not do so. The fact that the army progressed so slowly enabled them to keep close together; and the constant stream of Saracen arrows, although they found their targets, could not penetrate the mail and many a footsoldier marched along with arrows protruding from him at all angles, giving him the look of a porcupine. These men then became reconciled to their heavy equipment because they realised its life-saving qualities.
By night they camped close to the sea where the galleys carrying food and ammunition were in sight to comfort them.
Richard, knowing that many of them would be thinking of the recent riotous living in Acre and perhaps losing heart because of it, arranged for the heralds to go through the camp shouting ‘Help us, O Holy Sepulchre!’ to remind them that they were on a holy crusade. When they heard the heralds call every man would stand to his feet and raise his hands together and cry to God to help him.
Each day the rising of the sun would remind the men that another day of discomfort and danger lay ahead before that blazing tormenter set again. But with the appeals to God ringing in their ears and the example of Richard and the knights and the belief that what they were doing would win Heaven’s approval, they were ready to march on. It might be, thought Richard, that their recent carousal in Acre would add zest to their days because they were in urgent need of a remission of their sins after the orgies in which they had indulged, so it could be said that the life they had led in Acre was a good thing after all.
There was one knight who won Richard’s special approval. Where the fighting was the fiercest that knight could always be seen; when the enemy circled about Richard he was there beside him and when the affray was beaten off Richard sent for him.
‘I want to thank you for your good work,’ said Richard. ‘I have seen you in action and that has given me comfort. You are an example to the men.’
The knight lifted his headpiece and when Richard recognised that face there was a moment of embarrassment as he recalled that incident of the canes when this man had torn his clothes and he had been unable to beat him.
‘So it is William des Barres,’ said Richard.
‘I fear so, Sire.’
‘Fear nothing,’ cried Richard. ‘But no need to tell you that. I know you fear nothing . . . not even the wrath of kings.’
‘I have always kept out of your way, Sire.’
‘Until today. You were close to me then.’
‘I was there as an unknown knight. I did not think you would discover me.’
‘You fight well,’ said Richard, ‘whether it be with sword or canes. Let me see more of your skill.’
Then he laughed aloud. He was pleased. The affair of the canes had always made him feel ashamed when he recalled it.
‘Let us bury our quarrel by becoming the best of friends,’ said Richard.
At Arsouf a battle took place. The crusaders were greatly outnumbered, there being but one hundred thousand of them to three times that number of Saracens. The fighting was fierce and at first it seemed that the victory would go to Saladin; but the crusaders stood so firm that it was not possible for the Saracens to break their ranks. The lightly clad Saracens were very vulnerable to the crusaders’ arrows whereas the heavy crusader armour continued to save Christian lives.
Saladin in the thick of the fight was amazed at the skill of the crusaders, while at the same time Richard could not help but marvel at the bravery of the Moslems.
Richard thought: We should not be fighting against each other, and wondered if that same thought might be in Saladin’s mind.
He hoped that Saladin was understanding why he had had the prisoners slaughtered. A promise had been broken and this must be avenged. He believed now that had he waited Saladin would have sent the ransom and he had encountered nothing but a little oriental prevarication. His impatience had cost so many lives that he was horrified to consider this.
But Saladin must understand that when a great king gave his word that he would do something, he must do it.
The fact was that however much respect the leaders had for each other this was war.
By sunset Saladin conceded victory to Richard and he retired leaving the town of Arsouf in Richard’s possession. It was a Saturday and Richard said they should spend the whole of Sunday resting there.
There was mourning in the Saracen camps when their losses were counted. Some seven thousand Saracens had fallen in the battle while the Christian losses were comparatively slight.
Saladin, retiring to the woods, went about his camps to comfort his soldiers. The humble ones had fought well and valiantly; it was the Emirs, the leaders, who had been no match for the Christians.
Saladin sent for his brother and his son and asked why they had failed.
‘It is Richard,’ answered Malek Adel. ‘There is something u
Saladin nodded understandingly. ‘I know this to be so,’ he said. ‘I wonder what we can do against such a man. He has the valour to subdue all lands. What can we do against such a mighty foe? I would that he were our friend. But if I had to lose my land, then I would rather lose it to this King than any other.’
He could not eat. He sat brooding on his slaughtered ranks; and in his heart he was torn by his admiration for Richard now known as Coeur de Lion and his desire to drive him from the land.
He roused himself both from his melancholy and his preoccupation with the near divinity of his enemy.
‘Richard is but a man after all,’ he said to Malek Adel. ‘For the love of Allah do not let us see him as a god or we are indeed lost. We know him for the most formidable enemy who has ever come here. Very well, we must be shrewd. If he has bettered us on the battlefield perhaps there are other ways in which we can beat him. He will now march on to Jerusalem. Instead of harrying him on the way as we have been doing without great success let the main army ride on ahead of him. Raze to the ground the walls of the towns through which he must pass. Make sure that he ca
This seemed a good idea. No army could carry on without food and supplies. Saladin went on ahead to carry out the plan and thus Richard and his army reached Jaffa with comparative ease.
Although the walls had in places been razed to the ground, what comfort there was in Jaffa among the orange groves and the almond trees! Fruit, which they had sorely missed, abounded. Figs, grapes and pomegranates were theirs for the taking. To slake their thirst in such a pleasant ma
But many of the company were sick of the adventure. They thought of the wily King of France who was on his way home. He was the wise one. They thought of weary journeys to come, and the chances of meeting death on the way. That they would go straight to Heaven had suddenly become a small compensation. The fleet was plying back and forth between Jaffa and Acre and under cover of darkness many of them slipped out of camp and stowed away in one of the galleys and so sailed back to Acre.
It was not long before it came to Richard’s ears that the Saracens were destroying the walls of the cities on the road to Jerusalem so that the Christian armies would find no shelter in the towns. Realising that this was the reason for the recent easy progress, Richard sent one of the galleys to Ascalon to discover whether this was true; when the galley returned with the news that it was, he decided that they should leave Jaffa and march immediately to Ascalon there to prevent the complete demolition of the city.