“Christ, it is so infernally hot,” Payn de Chaworth said.
Edward felt as though he was drowning in his own sweat, but he said, “I understand that the Sultan Baibars considers us a sufficient threat to hold in his steel claws, at least for the moment.” He suddenly slammed his fisted hand against his open palm. “What chance have we against Baibars?”
Payn de Chaworth gave Edward a tired smile. “We must be patient.”
“Nay,” Edward said, rising. “I will not sit idly here in Acre watching the bloody Genoese and Venetians trade all the wealth of Palestine to the damned Saracens.”
“My lord,” Jerval said. “We came to Palestine to reconquer the cities and castles captured by Baibars. I suggest that we do just that, beginning with Nazareth. By God, it is our Christ’s city and it is in heathen hands.”
Edward’s eyes gleamed with sudden decision, and his fine chiseled features hardened with purpose. He walked to stand beside Jerval, towering even taller than he, his head brushing against the top of the pavilion. His mouth widened into a pleased smile. “Sir Jerval is in the right. With God’s aid, we will succeed in this venture. Gather the men and provision them for the march to Nazareth. We leave in the morning.”
Jerval did not return until very late. Chandra felt his cool hand upon her cheek, and she smiled at him, still half asleep. “Is something wrong?”
“Nay. We leave for Nazareth in the morning.”
“I go with you?”
“I’m sorry, but we must take Nazareth first; then you will come when all is secured. Sleep now. I will wake you at first light.”
CHAPTER 26
The dust kicked up from the rutted road by the horses’ hooves was a hazy white under the sweltering morning sun. Chandra craned her neck westward for a glimpse of the Mediterranean, but they were too far inland to make it out. Nothing grew here save an occasional yellowish shrub. Even the hearty olive trees, gnarled and bent, lay a mile or so to the west, still within sight of the sea, across a barrier of dunes and craggy rocks.
Although Chandra’s head and most of her face were covered with thin white gauze, she felt gritty sand in her mouth each time she breathed. She, Eleanor, and several of her ladies were on their way to Nazareth to join Edward and his army. They were well protected, surrounded by a hundred soldiers, Payn de Chaworth at their head. Eleanor rode in a covered litter, her only concession to her pregnancy. She had been as excited as Chandra to leave the confines of Acre, thanking God for their victory in Nazareth.
Chandra clicked her nimble-footed bay mare to the fore of the troop, to search out Arnolf. Instead, it was Payn who reined in beside her. He wore a white linen surcoat over his armor, his only defense against the baking sun, and his head and face, like hers, were covered with swaths of white cloth.
“I was trying to find Arnolf,” she said, smiling at him. “You look tired, Payn.”
“Nary a bit,” he said, looking back briefly toward Joanna, who rode next to Eleanor’s litter. “I wager you want to hear all about the battle.”
She heard amusement in his voice and turned in her saddle to see his eyes crinkled above the line of cloth. “Certainly more than that we won, and God be praised.”
> Before he spoke, Payn once again twisted in his saddle to check the troops behind them. Their party formed a wide phalanx, the ladies in the middle, surrounded on all sides by Edward’s men.
“My Joanna would likely prefer spending this day in the cool bathing room at Ali ad-Din’s residence.”
“It is dreadfully hot,” Chandra said, wiping sand from her forehead as she spoke. “Come, Payn, please tell me how you took Nazareth.”
Payn raised a sandy brow at her excitement. She leaned toward him as he said, “All right. Edward’s spies told us the Saracen garrison at Nazareth had grown lax, especially at night. We were able to form in a semicircle, twenty men deep, about the walls before dawn. You are probably picturing the thick walls of Acre, but Nazareth was besieged by the Saracens several years ago, and they had not bothered to rebuild. Our Lord’s city is a filthy, devastated place, its wealth long ago looted, and truth be told, the Saracens had little heart to defend it. We lost few men breaching the walls. But the Saracens did not want to leave us any gain. Instead of fighting us, they butchered Nazarenes as they fled through the streets. I did not see much, for Edward sent me back to fetch the ladies, but what I did see was not a pretty sight.”
“War is never pretty,” Chandra said.
Payn looked at her, his head cocked to one side, knowing that she was mouthing words without really comprehending their meaning. There had been no devastation in Acre, and she still had no concept of what armies could do to a people caught in their midst. “Perhaps your father raised you to picture war as the battles of gallant knights, riding in honor,” he said. “It is not the heroic Roland, my lady, dying with dignity, a prayer to God on his lips. War in the Holy Land against the Saracens is a hell most men would give their souls to forget.”
She said nothing to that, but Payn saw that she was looking very thoughtful.
Chandra’s first impression of Nazareth from a distance was a peaceful one. The city was set upon a rise, and to Chandra’s surprise, there were lush date and palm trees surrounding it.
“Nazareth was built,” Payn said, “as a trading center. There is water, and once the city was as beautiful as Acre, so I’m told. It isn’t beautiful now.”
As they drew nearer, she saw that the city was like a giant ravaged carcass, its dirty brown stone walls in ruin. There was a pungent odor in the air, a nauseating smell that made her stomach roil. She looked a question toward Payn.
“It is the stench of the dead and dying,” he said. “It was here before we arrived. As I told you, the Saracens killed and maimed as many people as they could, believing, I suppose, that we would take whomever they left unharmed as slaves.”
Their horses picked their way through the rubble in the narrow streets. Children in pitiful rags stood huddled in doorways, staring at them with dull eyes. They were too weak for the Saracens to bother with, Payn told her matter-of-factly.
“But they are only children,” she said blankly, fury and helplessness filling her.