Simon Beaufort - Murder in the Holy City

“Is this as far as that tunnel went?” asked Geoffrey in bewilderment. “It felt as though we were virtually outside the city walls.”

“I told you it wasn’t far,” said Akira with a sloppy sniff. “And I told you it could be miles, depending on how you takes to that sort of thing. You took to it worse than anyone I’ve ever brought there-you probably expected to come out in Normandy!”

He gave a guttural chuckle and scuttled away into the night. After a moment, he came back.

“Where shall I go?” he asked, helplessly. “That Maria is still at large, and that Adam might come back to get me.”

“Maria is locked up at the citadel, and Adam has gone with Hugh,” said Roger. “You will be safe at home, Akira.”

Akira gave him a grin revealing some impressively worn teeth. “Akira likes you,” he said to the large knight. “You ever need a nice bit o’ lean meat, you know where to come.”

He slithered away into the darkness a second time.

“Well, he likes me. That is a relief,” said Roger, watching the hunched shape disappear down the shadowy street.

“You had better send word to Uncle Daimbert,” said Geoffrey to Melisende. “Tell him that Hugh plans to kill the Advocate, and that we will try to stop him.”

“Are you sure that is the best course of action?” asked Melisende. “It might be better for the city to have a change in leadership. Everyone is discontented with the Advocate because he is so weak, and as long as he is in power, the city remains vulnerable to attack from the Saracens. Think about how the Crusaders slaughtered the Arabs when the city fell. If the Saracens attacked us now, there would be no quarter for any Christian in Jerusalem-man, woman, or child.”

That was certainly true, thought Geoffrey. The shock and outrage at the bloody massacre of innocent Arab citizens by Christians a year before would be avenged ruthlessly by the Saracens. If the city fell, there would not be a Christian left alive to tell the story.

“Your friend-Sir Hugh-is not to be trusted, obviously, but he is right on this count,” Melisende continued. “We need a strong leader to rule.”

“But Hugh is talking about murder,” objected Geoffrey. “And he says he will put Bohemond on the throne, but Bohemond is away in the north-he is not here to take advantage of the vacant crown. Neither is your uncle, who is also away from Jerusalem. Nor even is Tancred. The Saracens will not hesitate to attack the city if they know it does not have a leader. The murder of the Advocate could well bring about the very massacre you hope to avoid.”

She studied him intently, a slight frown on her face, and then shrugged. “You could be right,” she said eventually. She gave him a wry grin. “As usual. Uncle left for Haifa yesterday morning. I will send word to him and to Tancred too. But in the meantime, will you hunt this Hugh down?” Geoffrey nodded. “Then be careful.” She leaned toward him, gave him a furtive kiss on the cheek, and was gone into the night, heading for the Patriarch’s Palace.

“You are in with a chance there, lad,” said Roger, beginning to stride toward the citadel. Geoffrey fell into step next to him, his strength and composure returning in leaps and bounds.

“That is twice you have saved my life in as many days,” he said to the burly Englishman.

“You have done the same for me in the past,” said Roger comfortably.

“Oh God!” said Geoffrey as they walked. “What a mess! I doubted you. And I could not have been more wrong.”

“Aye, lad,” said Roger. “I sensed something was up when we went to Abdul’s together. But even with doubts about my innocence, you still got me out of that mess with Eveline. I bear you no ill feelings for suspecting me of being the killer.”

Roger’s easy forgiveness made Geoffrey cringe with guilt.

“That business with Eveline was probably Hugh’s doing, too,” said Roger, when Geoffrey did not reply.

“No,” said Geoffrey. “That had to be Courrances. He had probably come to believe that one, or all, of us three was responsible for the murders, and he wanted us out of the way. He planned that you should be found fast asleep with a dead whore by your side, while I was to be killed during the riot. Had Hugh been with us, doubtless there would have been something arranged for him too. But I know you. You do not usually fall asleep on your whores-especially after paying for them. As we left the room through the window, some wine spilled on my sleeve, and there was some kind of white powder in it. I am fairly sure it was drugged, which also explains why you were sick and pathetic when we dealt with Eveline’s body. And it was peculiar that a fight should break out so unexpectedly. The knights in the lower room were quiet when we arrived. I think it was started deliberately by Courrances and d’Aumale.”

“I saw d’Aumale at Abdul’s Pleasure Palace,” said Roger, “but not Courrances.”

“Yes, you did,” said Geoffrey. “Running to lock me in the burning stable.”

“But how could they know we would be there?” asked Roger. “It is not as if we have a regular visiting time. How could they plan so quickly?”

“Because Hugh probably told Courrances what we were doing,” said Geoffrey. “And he could have worked it out anyway. We knew Warner and d’Aumale were at Abdul’s the night Marius was killed, because Warner admitted as much to us in the chapel. Courrances would guess we would want to check their alibis and so would pay a visit to Abdul.”

“But why did Courrances want us out of the way all of a sudden?”

“Because he, like us, has concluded that the person behind these killings was a knight at the citadel. Not an Arab, as he kept insisting. Not the Greeks. Not the Jews. I have no idea what his evidence might be, but he must have narrowed down his list of suspects to you and me. And perhaps to Hugh too. I suppose he considered the murder of Marius in my chamber to be the most vital clue, and went from there.”

“When I was waiting for you at Melisende’s house, I did a lot of thinking,” said Roger. “I just assumed the business at Abdul’s Pleasure Palace was Hugh’s doing. It was obvious you were getting close, and then he would have no choice but to get you out of the way. And me too.”

“And we told him our findings every step of the way,” said Geoffrey bitterly. “As long as we kept talking to him, he knew he had nothing to fear. He would probably far rather we were investigating, telling him exactly what we had discovered, than any of the Patriarch’s scribes.”

They walked in silence for a while, Geoffrey still breathing deeply, forcing the memory of Akira’s tunnel from his mind.

“Now that Hugh has fled,” said Geoffrey, thinking about the slender Norman’s emptied chest, “the Advocate will be safe as long as he remains in the citadel. Even all Hugh’s soldiers will not be able to attack him successfully if he stays within the castle walls. So, why are we rushing to apprehend Hugh now?”

“But the Advocate is not in the citadel!” said Roger, turning to look at him in sudden concern. “He left for Jaffa while you were out chasing Saracens. And Hugh means to kill him as he and his retinue travel back to Jerusalem.”

At the citadel, all was in chaos after the hurried departure of Hugh and his men. Geoffrey winced when he recalled how Hugh had drilled his soldiers rigorously, while most of the knights let sword drill and archery practice slip. Hugh had apparently decided to take the fate of the Holy Land into his own hands months before the murders had occurred. And Geoffrey’s investigation had forced him into action before he was ready, since it would have been better for him to have had Bohemond waiting in the wings, rather than far away in Antioch. But it had probably taken little organisation: his troops were ready, and the empty chest in his room suggested he had been packed and ready to act for some time.