The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [225]
After winning such prizes it seemed that the way was open to Jerusalem, and Richard believed he was on the point of taking the city and bringing the crusade to a glorious end. But Saladin was too clever to allow this happy conclusion to come about. He spread rumors throughout the Christian camp that, fearing their advance, he had poisoned all the drinking wells outside the Holy City.
It turned out to be not so, but Richard could not ignore such a rumor. He returned to Jaffa and by doing so lost his great chance.
Such are the fortunes of war. A successful general must win at the crucial moment, and Saladin’s rumor of poisoned wells had cost Richard Jerusalem.
Richard knew there would be no easy victory. Saladin had had time to fortify the town, and the bad news from home, Richard knew, meant that if he did not return he was in danger of losing his kingdom.
There was nothing to be done but make a truce with Saladin. It was a heartbreaking finale to what was to have been a great enterprise. The peace terms were just. Richard had made it possible for pilgrims to visit Jerusalem. He himself did not visit the Holy City. He could not bear to. He cried out in his anguish: “Sweet Lord, I entreat You, do not suffer me to see the Holy City since I am unable to deliver it from the hands of Thine enemies.”
Poor Richard! He must have felt defeated and for such a man defeat was the worst thing that could happen. He had to admit that, after all the lives that had been lost, all the gold with which his people had supplied him, he had failed.
He was going back to his country with his mission unfulfilled.
Joanna and Berengaria went off before he did. Berengaria was often in my thoughts, and I wondered what she thought of her husband’s aloofness. As far as I could gather, they had rarely been together. What hope was there of an heir? Very little, I feared.
Richard eventually sailed away. Anselm said he leaned over the rail watching until the land had disappeared and murmured: “Oh Holy Land, I commend thee to God. May He of His mercy grant me such space of life that I may one day bring thee aid. And it is my hope and determination, by God’s will, to return.”
In due course Joanna and Berengaria arrived in Rome. As for Richard, he sailed off . . . into mystery.
Richard may have failed in his mission, but his fame was known throughout the world. Everywhere people talked and sang of Richard the Lionheart. He was reckoned the greatest soldier of his age, although he had been unable to conquer another who was said to be as great as himself, Saleh-ed-Din, known throughout the Christian world as Saladin.
Anselm, who had sailed with him, had been able to tell me much up to this point.
In glowing terms he told me of the encounter with pirate ships and how Richard’s courage impressed the pirates who allowed him to board their ships. Richard had decided to go home overland; he knew that he had many enemies and wished to travel incognito. He therefore sent his ships back to England while he, in the garb of a merchant, proposed to make his way across Europe. The pirates agreed, for a sum of money, to take him where he wanted to go.
Richard left Anselm on the ship, and that was the last the priest had seen of him.
I was desperately anxious. Where was he? How much better it would have been if he had stayed with the ships. How could he have thought he would be safer traveling overland dressed up as a merchant! Richard was the sort of man who could never be anything but a king and whatever garb he was in would not disguise that.
I was glad to have heard Anselm’s story but frustrated that it stopped short of the vital part.
And so we waited, but news of Richard did not come.
I could not believe he was dead. I wondered how long it would be before John claimed the throne. If Richard’s