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‘And are you not, Berengaria?’
‘What is the use, Joa
‘Take comfort that he is not with other women.’
Berengaria’s lips tightened. She stared straight ahead and said: ‘Perhaps there are others of whom I should be jealous.’
Alas, thought Joa
All pretence between them had disappeared. From now on if they remained together, there would be no necessity to placate Berengaria with excuses for all Richard had to do. Berengaria knew that he did not want her; that any relationship she would have with him would be because of a sense of duty to the crown.
They were two unhappy women – Berengaria more so than Joa
The Cypriot Princess watching them sat so quietly that they forgot she was there.
Yes, it was true, it was sad to be a Princess. She wondered what her own fate would be. Her father was in chains – silver ones – and Cyprus belonged to Richard. She had no home. Would she ever see her father or her old home again? Would a husband be found for her? Perhaps not, for homeless and with a father in chains, she was not important any more.
Richard realised that Joa
When Saladin heard this he laughed aloud. He had never expected for one moment that Richard’s sister would marry his brother. It had all been part of the bargaining, which was not to be taken seriously.
He sent a message to say that Malek Adel could not consider anyone of lesser rank than the King’s sister; and Richard had to accept the fact that that idea could not be pursued.
Saladin was not displeased with what had happened. The terms could never of course be considered seriously but at least the peace talks had delayed action and both sides were resting. The autumn was passing into winter and that was scarcely the season to wage a successful campaign.
Leaving Berengaria and Joa
There was a conflict of opinion in the Christian camp. The fact that Saladin had gone to Jerusalem could only mean that he was building up defences there and as the peace talks had come to nothing it was clear that he was determined to defend Jerusalem with all his strength.
Some of the crusaders wished to press on to Jerusalem and subject it to a siege. Richard knew very well that they were not equipped to do this and Saladin would be in a much stronger position than they were. They would be utterly defeated and they must remember that such defeat to them would be disastrous whereas the Saracens on their own territory could after a while get men and supplies for further attacks.
The failure of the peace talks and the inability of Richard to arrange a match between his sister and Malek Adel had slightly tarnished his aura of invincibility, and there were some who questioned his judgements. As the majority of the crusaders wanted to press on to Jerusalem Richard gave way. He too wanted to see the Holy City; he wanted to crown the crusade with the ultimate glory. If he could set the Christian flag flying over that city he would die contented.
It was the twenty-second of December when Richard left Ramleh on the march to Jerusalem. The crusaders had never seen such rain; it poured in torrents; the hailstones were the size of pigeons’ eggs and they felt that one of the plagues of Egypt was being visited upon them. From the mountains the swollen streams became rivers and the paths were so muddy that men sank up to their knees.
After days of disaster it became clear that no progress could be made. The army was miserable and dispirited. The only thing to do was to return to Ramleh.
This they did, disgruntled and weary, blaming each other for the disaster. Richard did not know then that in the town of Jerusalem, Saladin, his army depleted, his stores scarce was fearful that Richard would continue the march to Jerusalem and that had he done so at that time he might have had a good chance of success.
At Ramleh Richard discussed the position with the dukes and the knights. Those who knew something of the Palestine winter were certain that they must wait for the spring. An army could not progress through such rain as was customary in this land and the cold would be intense, also. Richard decided that they would spend the winter repairing the walls of cities which Saladin’s army had destroyed, while doing so making ready for the spring offensive.
It was depressing. He had reckoned on taking Jerusalem before Christmas and here he was in January still far from achieving that purpose.
They were in need of food and he believed that their ships would be lying off the coast of Ascalon so he ordered that they should leave at once for that town.
The journey was even worse than they had anticipated. The men were blinded by the rain; again and again their baggage sank in the mud; they cursed the climate and asked themselves which was worse, the heat of summer or this devastating rain, snow and cold which seeped into their bones.
Their spirits were not lifted when they arrived at Ascalon. The walls were in complete ruin, for Saladin, guessing they would wish to use this town, had done his best to make it uninhabitable. There was one hopeful sign. The supply ships had arrived but alas even in that they were thwarted, for it was impossible for the ships to land on account of the stormy weather.
So there they were, a dejected army – with food and other supplies in sight but unable to reach them.
Richard, always at his best in adversity, ordered them to occupy the town. They would take what was there, repair the walls and make the place habitable. The storms must subside at some time and then they would have their provisions.
They settled in and to inspire his men he himself joined them in the manual labour of repairing the walls.
Inspecting the men, taking a share in the work, he encouraged them to carry on and it was comforting to see a revival of spirits. He noticed however that Leopold, the Duke of Austria, was not working with the rest.
Coming face to face with the Duke who was strolling in a leisurely ma
‘You do not see me because I do not do it,’ answered Leopold. ‘My father was not a mason and I am not a carpenter.’
The Plantagenet temper boiled over. This was the kind of incident Richard was most anxious to avoid. The soldiers had suffered great hardship and he wanted them to know that this was understood and appreciated and shared by them all.
In a sudden rage he kicked the Duke of Austria on the shin so fiercely that he fell sprawling on the ground.
This affront to his dignity infuriated the Duke. He scrambled to his feet, scarlet with rage. Richard by now had stalked away.
‘A curse on you!’ shouted Leopold.
A few days later he and his men, which meant the German contingent, had left the crusade.
That was a dispiriting winter. The departure of Leopold of Austria in high dudgeon was followed by that of the Duke of Burgundy who, finding himself short of money, had asked Richard to lend him some. He had believed, he explained, that he would have had his share of the ransom for the prisoners of Acre which he had been relying on. Now that it was lost, because in his wrath Richard had slain the prisoners of that city there was no money forthcoming from Saladin, and Burgundy, like many others, was finding himself in difficulties.