‘It is good for the men to see them together,’ Joanna excused him. ‘It gives them confidence in their leaders.’
One day Richard did come to their tent, and with him was the King of France. Richard was kind and enquired after his wife’s health but it was not the occasion for intimate conversation. As for Philip he was very courteous, particularly to Joanna, but as Joanna said afterwards to Berengaria, it did not mean anything.
‘Would you like to be Queen of France?’ asked Berengaria.
‘No. If I married again I would wish to marry for love.’
‘Perhaps you could love Philip.’
‘I do not think I could and I would not want to marry merely because it would be a link for our two countries if I did. I believe that a Princess may be in duty bound to marry in the first place for state reasons, but when that marriage is over she should have a free choice.’
‘Yet if Philip offered for you?’
‘I could refuse.’
‘Even if Richard wanted it?’
‘Let us not consider that. At the moment neither of them has time for women. They have their battles to think of.’
‘I believe some of the men have time for their women.’
‘They are not kings,’ said Joanna shortly. She turned to the little Cypriot and said: ‘You listen. Perhaps you are wondering when a husband will be found for you?’
‘Do you think there ever will be?’
‘I am sure of it. Richard will find a husband for you when he is no longer preoccupied with his battles.’
And when would that be, wondered Joanna. She could not imagine Richard without a war to fight.
Richard was preoccupied with the coming assault on the walls of Acre. He had brought with him several contraptions which it was necessary for him to assemble. There was, of course, his tower, the Mate Griffon, on which men were working so that when the time came it could be wheeled into position. There was another machine known as the Belfry; this like the Mate Griffon was intended to be placed close to the walls of the city when the time was ripe for entry. Because of the Saracen’s frequent use of Greek Fire, Richard had ordered that it should be covered with tanned hides as a protection against the fire. Another of his machines was a war engine which was used for throwing stones high in the air and at great speed so that they fell into the city. This mangonel had been called the Bad Neighbour and when the Saracens invented a similar machine to throw stones back among the Christians this was nicknamed the Bad Kinsman.
All through the days that followed Richard’s arrival work went on to make these war machines ready for use. The spirits of all the Christians had been so lifted by the arrival of Richard that they forgot all they had suffered through the abortive attempts to take the city, even the discomforts of the khamsin and the devastating effect the terrific heat had on them. When he rode round the camps he was cheered by all nationalities and they all felt comforted by his presence. He was so certain of victory that he communicated his confidence to them. This uplifting of spirits was obvious even to the Saracens encamped beyond the city on the hill of Ayyadieh.
Saladin himself talked of it with his brother, Malek Adel. ‘What manner of man can this Richard be? They call him the Lion-hearted. They say he is brave and never knows defeat. There is a change in their ranks since he has come.’
Malek Adel replied that they would soon prove to the Christians that their hero was but human after all. He promised Saladin that he himself would bring him Richard’s head and that without his body.
Saladin shook his head. He was not given to such boasts nor did he care to hear his brother talk in such a fashion. He believed that Allah did not love the boastful; and he knew from experience that it was never wise to underrate an enemy.
His men looked to him and expected miracles from him and because they believed so fervently that these would come, they sometimes found their miracles. So must it be with this King Richard.
We are of a kind, he thought. It is a pity that we should fight against each other. But they were two men each with his fixed idea – Saladin’s to hold Jerusalem and Richard’s to take it.
In the midst of the activity Richard fell ill. The recurrent fever took possession of him and though he attempted to fight it off with all his strength, he failed to do so.
How maddening it was to be laid low where he could hear the noise from the anvils as the great war machines were perfected. The action would have to be delayed and this would give the Mussulmans time to prepare. They must have seen the swelling of the Christian ranks. Their spies would have taken back reports of the great war machines. And now the fever had come to torment him!
Berengaria came with Joanna to his tent. They were horrified at the sight of him.
‘I am not so ill as I look,’ said Richard. ‘I know this accursed fever by now. It will pass. It infuriates me, though, that it should come at this time.’
‘At least,’ said Berengaria, ‘now we can look after you.’
And they did. Through the haze of his fever Richard was aware of soft and gentle hands that smoothed the hair back from his face, and put cooling drinks to his lips.
When she could forget her anxieties for his health, Berengaria was happier than she had been since the first days of her marriage.
As the fever grew less virulent, he would ask anxious questions about what was happening outside his tent. She would soothe him and say: ‘All is well.’
How could it be, when he was on a sickbed? he demanded irritably. Who was going to break the siege?
‘The siege can wait,’ said Berengaria; and he sighed in exasperation at her feminine ignorance.
How could he talk with Berengaria? Joanna would have understood more readily. Joanna was there but she kept in the background knowing what pleasure it gave Berengaria to attend to her husband. He was also aware of a third figure – a very young girl of great beauty who seemed like Berengaria’s shadow.
Once he said: ‘Who is the girl?’
‘Isaac’s daughter.’
He was immediately alarmed. ‘What does she here?’
‘She is with us all the time. You gave her into our charge remember.’
‘Her father is my prisoner. She could be looking for revenge.’
‘Nay. We have taught her that you are the noblest king that ever lived.’
He was uneasy. But Berengaria soothed him. The little Cypriot Princess was innocent. She was with her and Joanna all the time. She was like a little sister. She would never harm any whom Berengaria loved. Moreover Berengaria herself prepared his food. She would trust no other to do so.
He watched the girl; it seemed Berengaria was right. None could imagine evil in such a dainty child. Berengaria became a little jealous.
‘You find her beautiful?’
‘The Cypriot women have a certain charm.’ He was suddenly remorseful for his neglect of Berengaria. ‘Not to be compared with those of Navarre,’ he added.
That contented her. It was easy to please her and he felt happy in his marriage for the first time. When he was well he would pay more attention to Berengaria. She was a good woman and by no means ill-favoured; he liked her natural elegance, and it was comforting to feel her there when the fever took possession of him.
Philip came to see him. He stood by the bed looking down on him.
‘So the fever can do what no human enemy can. My dear Richard, you look very ill.’
‘It will pass.’
‘This accursed climate! How do the natives endure it?’
‘They are accustomed to it, I doubt not. Their robes protect them from the sun and so they remain cool.’
‘How I hate it!’ cried Philip vehemently. ‘Flies and sand in everything ... in one’s clothes, in one’s hair, in one’s food. The mosquitoes are a pest. Some of my men have died of their bites. The terrible spiders are a danger. Their sting is death. They come out when it is quiet and the men are asleep. Several men have been killed by these tarantulas. We have found that they dislike noise and it drives them away, and the men clash symbols before they lie down but they cannot continue this throughout the night and as soon as quiet falls the danger returns. Sometimes I think of home, of my fair land of France where it is never too hot, where there is no sand to plague me ... no dust, no poisonous spiders ... And now you are sick, Richard. In God’s name let us take this town and then go home.’