Echoes of a Legend

Chapter TWO: Old Friends and New Enemies

“I spoke to many of the high order in France last year and they seemed unperturbed to my plight.” Brother Nash

This far away land is not to this Saracens liking and getting used to this type of weather is proving troublesome. He found the changes in climate over the many hundreds of miles fascinating, yet the problem now of keeping warm is proving difficult and frustrating. The sheepskin from his slaughter three days ago is helping as is the fire, while the meat he took, all he could carry, is a bonus and excellent.

Through the canopy of the trees Musmet looks up at the darkening skies and then back at his map which is unfurled on the ground in front of him. He guesses at only a few hours more travel before he should be within range of the Stowburgh manor house. The only thing that is bothering him is the reliability of the information. He now has two objectives, but as long as his original one was complete he did not care, the second is an unexpected bonus.

Over the many years serving Saladin he had heard numerous tales of the courage and fortitude of the men within the Order and felt strangely proud to be part of their building legacy, especially as it meant killing as many as possible. What frustrated him were the causes the Order supported and their insistence on being part of the Holy Land that is quite obviously his likeminded peoples and his peoples alone.

Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb or simply Saladin as he was known to the Western world, was born around 1138 and was a Kurdish Muslim who belonged to the Ayyubid dynasty. At the time of Musmet’s quest, Saladin was at the height of his powers yet despite being the number one enemy of the Christian world, he was also a man that became recognised as a gracious and gallant warrior by many within it. In fact, he become an eminent example of the how the art of war and negotiating should be conducted.

Back in his homeland, Saladin had already masterminded the capture of the strategic towns of Hattin, Acre and even the great city of Jerusalem itself. This in turn had sparked rumours of another large European Crusade with Pope Gregory VIII proclaiming the capture of the city by the Muslim’s was, ‘Gods punishment to all Christians for their sins across the world’. This statement sparked the religion into action and many men had already taken up arms and were on their way to the Holy Land to try and swing the advantage back their way.

Musmet may be far from home but he could envisage Saladin now, licking his lips in anticipation at the consequential battles that lie ahead. Still, once his own individual campaign was over and if the unexpected bonus is right, he is sure he could use it to reinforce Saladin’s cause and help keep him and his religion at an advantage.

He alters his position to cross his legs in front of him and rubs his toes through the boots he wears to liven them up. Since he had washed his feet, keeping to his Muslim religious beliefs of doing so before eating, they had stiffened in the cold so he did his best to bring them back to life.

The woodland air is cooling and he could smell the muskiness of the ground below. With a large intake of breath he picks up the map, rolls it up and places it back inside his black holdall next to his prayer mat. The fire he had made is helping with the advancing chill and is small enough not to be seen from a distance; the dipped location he had chosen also aids his whereabouts.

The smell of the meat he his cooking drifts under his nose. It starts to blacken on one side, so he turns the makeshift skewer over and continues to hold it in his right hand. Staring into the low iridescent glow of the fire he thinks about the land of his birth. There, the sun would be beating down all day and although the nights had their own chill, he would be able to rest in a warm shelter with good company and prayer. Once he had completed his mission he would make his way back there; all very soon, he hoped. If it went wrong he would be with Allah and in a better place anyway; he couldn’t lose.