Conrad von Feuchtwangen shot him a cool look. ‘I have no doubt that the Swiss and the German Order will fight bravely, my friend.’
‘With knights such as you fighting for the city, it is difficult to see how we may not win a glorious reputation,’ Sir Otto said.
Later, resting on a bench, his eyes closed, feeling the ache of overworked muscles, Baldwin mentioned that exchange to Ivo. ‘I didn’t understand what they meant.’
‘Only that both are ashamed.’
‘Why both?’
‘Because of Burchard von Schwanden. He was the leader of the German Order, so his cowardice in leaving now means that they are embarrassed by association. His resignation has reflected badly on the honour of his whole Order.’
‘I can see that. What of Sir Otto?’
‘Did you not know he is Swiss? So was Sir Burchard. So Sir Otto feels he too has something to prove with his fighting in the coming days, to show that he is no coward.’
‘I see,’ Baldwin breathed.
‘The impressive truth is,’ Ivo said, ‘that while the Genoese pigs have fled across the sea, and while one Grand Master facing the most ferocious battle of his life has resigned and followed the Genoese, the majority of the men of the city are still here, determined to fight. And more men arrive each day to supplement their numbers. The Venetians and Pisans have not deserted us. True, they are carting off their best valuables, but they still remain here to protect Acre and the people. I find that reassuring. Perhaps God will give us the means to keep this city.’
‘Lucia, please, come and sit with us,’ Baldwin said.
It was later in the afternoon and she had been dozing on her bed. Hearing his voice, she sprang up, startled, and followed him into the garden where she found Sir Jacques and Ivo.
‘We were talking about your old household. When you were there, you were happy, were you not?’ Jacques said. ‘Until you were sent away?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you were sent away because your mistress was displeased with you?’
‘Yes. She thought I might have spoken about her to Baldwin.’
‘And did you?’
‘No!’
‘So you have been punished while you were loyal to her?’
‘Yes.’
Edgar appeared, wearing a fresh tunic which Ivo had bought for him. ‘Gentles, I cannot sleep. I have been asleep for a year and a day already, or so it feels. May I join you?’
‘Please,’ Jacques said, motioning to a bench. ‘We were talking to this maid about her mistress.’
‘Ah, I know a little about her, too,’ Edgar said. ‘My last master knew her well, didn’t he, Lucia?’
She looked at him, but said nothing. She couldn’t. While she breathed, she was the slave of Maria, and speaking out against her was a crime that would lead to her being beaten or whipped again, if Maria learned of it. She found it hard enough merely being here with all these men. It felt wrong. But then she saw the expression on Edgar’s face, and Baldwin’s, and felt more secure. They wouldn’t see her hurt. Nor would Ivo or Sir Jacques. They were kindly-looking men.
‘What do you mean?’ Baldwin asked.
‘She would visit Master Philip Mainboeuf in his house. They would send away all the other servants, and only have one to serve them — the old bottler whom I still must “thank” for being evicted in so hasty a manner,’ Edgar said.
‘Mainboeuf was having an affair with her?’ Ivo said, and gave a chuckle. ‘Randy git! Good luck to him. She’ll not see him for a while, though, I’d guess. He’ll be otherwise engaged in Cairo for some little time.’
‘She is known for her appetites,’ Jacques said. ‘She is young and beautiful. It is hardly surprising.’
Baldwin shrugged. This was the way of people in Eastern lands, he was coming to learn.
Edgar looked at Lucia. ‘Is it difficult to hear us speak of her, maid?’
‘No,’ she answered honestly. ‘She has hurt me so much, I do not think I could be more injured by her.’
‘Why did she send you away?’ Baldwin asked. ‘Had you offended her in some way?’
‘I cannot speak. She ordered me not to.’
Ivo grunted. ‘She is not your mistress. If there was something you wanted to confide, you can.’
Lucia bit her lip, and thought again. ‘It was only this one thing,’ she said. She spoke reluctantly, but in her mind, she felt that as a slave living in Ivo’s house, she must now answer to him as master. ‘She would visit men. She had me wear her clothing so that her subterfuge would not be noticed. She would have me walk about the city with guards, as though I were her, and she would slip out later to visit her men.’
Baldwin suddenly had a flash of inspiration. ‘You mean that first time I saw you? In the road, close to the Genoese quarter?’
‘Yes. She had sent me to a house to deliver a message, but the man tried to take me when he found me there. And then you followed me, and I thought you would as well, so I ran from you. You looked scary. Almost drunk.’
‘Does that mean she was seeing Mainboeuf?’ Baldwin wondered.
Lucia hung her head. ‘She was very fond of Philip Mainboeuf, I think. She wanted to see him most often. She will be sad that he is lost to her.’
‘She should not be too despairing on his behalf,’ Ivo snapped. ‘The man was selling us to the Muslims. Al-Fakhri told you that.’
Edgar demurred at this. ‘No. My master was many things, but he was not a traitor. He saw how the city could prosper, and followed that route, but he would not willingly sell his city.’
‘So you think,’ Baldwin said.
‘Aye. I knew him well.’
‘Then who would be the traitor to the city?’
‘The Lady Maria, perhaps?’ Baldwin said. ‘That is what Buscarel told me a little while ago.’
‘You’ve had dealings with him?’ Ivo growled.
‘He and I have an accord,’ Baldwin said. He was struck with a mental picture of Lady Maria. Her cold, unfeeling eyes as she threatened him with torture, or the time she told him he would never find Lucia. ‘She has a heart of stone.’
‘She seeks to protect her lands,’ Lucia mumbled, head hanging. It was her last betrayal. Now Lady Maria would never forgive her.
‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said, thinking how lovely Lucia was, especially when she looked so lost and vulnerable.
That night, he did not sleep for a long time, thinking of her. But the following morning, the first desperate farmers from the environs of the city began to arrive, and he had other things to concern him.
BOOK FOUR
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Baldwin was on the wall when they arrived.
The city had been prepared by the sudden inrush of terrified farmers. There was no need to send patrols to check for the direction from which the attack would come. They had all the intelligence they needed from the refugees.
‘Here they come,’ said Edgar, standing bareheaded beside Baldwin. He said his head was too painful still to wear a helmet, but Baldwin had a suspicion that it was more his vanity that prevented him. Baldwin saw him glancing at women wherever they went. Still, whatever the reason, at least he had insisted on coming here and standing at the wall with the other men.
‘Where?’ Baldwin asked.
Edgar pointed languidly at the horizon. And suddenly Baldwin saw through the heat haze to a black line, and a thin mist of dust over it. The young man-at-arms was glad to have a friend at his side, because this was a sight like no other he had ever seen. A seething mass of men and horses and machines, all crawling along from the south like a massive black centipede, seemingly flat against the ground. Like a centipede it curved about hillocks and depressions in the ground as if seeking the best route. It was so like a vast, malevolent creature, it was hard to believe it was composed of thousands upon thousands of men.