Tariq Ali - The Book of Saladin

“Two people helped me greatly after that ordeal. When I told him what I had suffered, Shadhi became so angry that he wanted to tell the Sultan. I had to use all my wiles to stop him, but I think he sent a message to Halima warning her that if she carried on in this fashion she would be spending the rest of her days in a tiny hut in a remote village.

“Jamila, too, was genuinely shocked and upset. As a result we became close friends and, in her presence, I pledged in the name of Allah and our Holy Prophet that I would never tell tales again.

“Till a few weeks ago Jamila helped me honour this pledge. Then suddenly one evening, and without any warning, she began to question me about Halima. I kept quiet and shook my head. My silence upset her and we did not speak again till this morning. Presumably she thought that in your presence my tongue might loosen. I am aware of what she wishes to know and I understand her motives, but I am bound by a vow before Allah. I had no alternative but to disappoint her.”

Listening to him that night under the stars I could understand how Shadhi and Jamila had been seduced by the soft voice of this eunuch. Now he had me under his spell. I was intrigued by his teasing references to Halima. What could he know? What did he know?

“I too am dismayed by your story, Amjad. I can see why Shadhi wanted to tell Salah al-Din. It would have ended the matter immediately. I fully respect your vow not to tell tales, and I have no desire that you breach your oath. Yet surely what Jamila wished to know was the truth about Halima. Your pledge concerned inventions and lies. Am I not correct?”

He did not reply for some time, and suddenly the majestic silence of the desert night became oppressive. I was about to rephrase and repeat my question, when he began to speak again.

“You are correct, as usual, Ibn Yakub, but what Jamila wanted to know involved my own person. If I had told her the whole truth it would have killed her regard for me, which means a great deal. In fact, I treasure it more than anything else in this world. The sad truth is that one night, when I was fast asleep, Halima entered my bedchamber. She removed the gown that covered her nakedness, lay down beside me, and began to stroke my body and fondle that which she and Jamila had once, long ago, inspected from a distance.

“In the name of Allah, I swear to you, Ibn Yakub, that for quite some time I thought I was dreaming. It was only when she mounted me and began to move up and down on this little dateless palm-tree between my legs, that I realised it was all real, but by then, even if I had wished, it was too late to resist or complain. Even the strongest doubts can be drowned by pleasure. After it was over she left. We had not managed to exchange a single word. I felt like an animal. Perhaps she felt the same disgust that overcame me, but perhaps not.

“She returned several times, and we coupled in silence. It ended as it had begun. Abruptly. Afterwards we used to avert our eyes whenever we saw each other, but she avoided me and, as I later heard, used to mouth obscenities at my expense to her new friends. One of them, who later fell out with her, told me that Halima had confessed to all of them that mounting me was the only way she could rid herself of the spectre of Jamila which she encountered everywhere.

“Nothing remains secret in the harem. I am convinced she was followed and malicious tongues informed Jamila, who, not unnaturally, wanted a confirmation or denial from my own lips. I could not oblige her, Ibn Yakub. It would hurt her a great deal and demean our friendship. For me, one afternoon spent in conversation with Jamila is worth all my nights with Halima. They are not even delights I could measure on the same scale. Jamila’s intellect affects me like an aphrodisiac. When she laughs with me the sun shines on my heart. She is the one I truly love, and I would happily the at her command. Now you know it all. My guilty secret is out at last.”

I was stunned by Amjad’s confession. Where I had failed, a eunuch had succeeded. I looked at the stars, silently praying for the heavens to fall. I wanted to smother all memories.

That night I was awakened by a dream. I was being castrated by a woman whose face was disfigured by an ugly leer. It was Halima.

Divisions within the Franj are brought to our notice

TWO OF OUR SPIES within the Franj camp, both merchants of the Coptic persuasion, had informed Taki al-Din of developments within the Kingdom of Jerusalem. It was being torn asunder by a furious battle between the two principal knights of King Guy. Count Raymond of Tripoli was advising the King to be cautious and defensive, which meant staying in Jerusalem and not marching out to fall straight into the trap being prepared by Salah al-Din. The King himself was more inclined to the view championed by Reynald of Châtillon. This knight had smelt blood. He questioned the integrity of Count Raymond, accusing him of being a friend of Salah al-Din and a false Christian. Reynald believed that the balance of strength favoured the Franj. He argued that their knights and foot-soldiers could outmanoeuvre and outflank the Sultan’s armies.

At one stage the two men had almost come to blows. They would have fought each other there and then had not the King grabbed a wooden cross and put his own person between them. He had compelled the two knights to swear an oath that they would cease quarrelling and fight together to defeat the Saracen infidels.

Taki al-Din questioned the two spies in detail. He asked them about the exact size of Guy’s army, the amount of supplies they would need to survive outside their city, the names of the men who would command the Templars and Hospitallers, and the length of time it would take us to receive information about the exact whereabouts of the Franj army, if, that is, they were foolish enough to abandon the Holy City and come out to meet the Sultan on his own ground. The merchants looked at each other and laughed. It was the older one who spoke.

“The Emir need not worry on that count. My own brother is responsible for maintaining the supplies needed by Guy and Reynald. He will inform us the moment he has the necessary information. The pigeons are prepared.”

Taki al-Din smiled.

“My uncle always complimented me on being a good judge of character. You have never supplied me with false information or disappointed the trust I have placed in you. For this the Sultan will reward you generously. Your tent is prepared. You have had a long journey. Please rest and recover your strength till the evening meal.”

Two days later the news we had been waiting for reached us. Reynald of Châtillon had won the battle for Guy’s ear. The Franj were even now preparing to march out of the Holy City, to fight on our terrain. The Sultan’s face lit up when he heard the news. He insisted that it be checked and double-checked. We had to wait another day before confirmation arrived from another source. Only then did Salah al-Din order a review of all his troops to be held the next morning, six miles north of Ashtara at Tell Tasil, situated on the main road to the valley of the Jordan river.

“I want to stand on a mound and observe the whole army, Ibn Yakub,” he said. “‘Radishes come like men, in different shapes and sizes,’ our friend Shadhi used to say. Apart from my own squadrons, most of these men are new. They are radishes from fields I have not ploughed. Let us see how they compare to our variety.”

News that the Franj had moved out of the Holy City to give us battle swept through the entire camp within half-an-hour. News of this nature can never be kept secret for long. The effect was a complete change in the mood of the men. If they had, till now, been relaxed and slightly over-confident, the information that they might now be engaged in real combat within a few days made them nervous, somewhat edgy, and yes, even fearful.