Crusade

‘My physician says you must stay warm and eat and drink. You have lost a lot of blood and the pain will have exhausted you. Your body could react badly to everything that has happened to it. You must rest. We will prepare food, and the physician will make you a potion to help you sleep. It is fortunate that it is your left shoulder; the surgeon says the collarbone will never heal. You will be badly scarred and will carry the pain always. You are very brave, worthy of the brotherhood of knights.’

‘Thank you, my Lord, and please thank your physician and your men.’ Adela grasped my hand and pulled me towards her. ‘Sire, where is Sweyn?’

‘He is over there, coming round from a blow to the head; I think he will be fine.’

‘I need a piss. Will you carry me to somewhere discreet?’

It was not the most polite request anyone had ever made of me but, under the circumstances, Adela’s forthrightness brought a wide grin to my face.

By the time I brought Adela back to her tent, Ibn Hamed had ordered his men to release Edwin and the two survivors of our retinue, who rushed over to us.

The physician was now attending to Sweyn, wafting some foul-smelling substance under his nose to bring him round. After a while, it began to work and he started to ask questions.

‘We are being held by Ibn Hamed, Lord of Calatafimi, who is in conflict with Count Roger,’ I explained.

‘Where is Adela, my Lord?’

‘She is in your tent. She has been well taken care of but has suffered two bad arrow wounds, one to her leg and one to her shoulder.’

‘I must go to her.’

‘Of course, but let her sleep — she needs to rest, and so do you. Try to get some sleep also. Edwin, have the Moor’s physician dress your wounds and those of our men.’

The Emir was talking to his men. He was a tall, dignified-looking man. His armour and weapons were more elaborately decorated than those of his men and he wore fine gold wristlets, gold rings on four of his fingers and a padded, pale-blue silk smock under his armour.

I was calmer now, but my anger was beginning to rise at the senseless violence of the attack.

‘Ibn Hamed, we are visitors to this land. You have attacked us for no reason and killed five of my men. What is your explanation?’

‘We are at war with the Normans. My family has ruled here for many generations, but now our home has been destroyed and many have been killed, including two of my sons. You look like Normans, act like them and speak like them. Even if, as you say, you are English, you are allied to the Normans and so are still our enemy.’

‘We are nobody’s enemy; we are knights in search of a new future away from our homeland. We too have lost many who are close to us. Tens of thousands of our people have died.’

‘I am sorry for your losses, both here and in your homeland. If you will accept, you may now enjoy our hospitality until your knights are healed.’

‘I accept, with gratitude. Adela will need time to recover. She cannot travel easily with those wounds, and there is the danger of infection.’

‘I think infection is probable. My physician is highly trained, but even he doesn’t know how to stop it — although he does know how to treat it. Tell me, why does the girl choose to be a knight?’

‘It is a long story, but there is no doubt she is a warrior.’

‘Has she no shame, living with men, exposing her body? In Islam, our holy book, the Quran, forbids it.’

‘Our Bible certainly doesn’t encourage women to fight, or to be naked! Adela is very unusual — but, I can assure you, she is worthy of your respect.’

‘And the boy, the one who fights so well? He killed three of my finest soldiers, veterans of many years’ service.’

‘Sweyn is an exceptional knight. He is highly disciplined and motivated, with the physique of a hunting dog. In a fight he is quicker and more agile than anyone I’ve ever seen.’

‘I look forward to getting to know them. Come, let us bury your dead; my imam will read over them. When the young woman is rested, we can travel to my camp. There you can meet my family and the survivors of our community.’

13. Mos Militum

The Emir’s camp was high in the heavily wooded Sicilian hills. It was a difficult ride for Adela, who could only manage it side-saddle on a sturdy Moorish saddle cushioned with sacks of straw and with heavy strapping to her shoulder. Ibn Hamed’s men showed enormous respect for her. They treated her like royal princess and helped her on and off her horse as if she were a piece of delicate pottery.

Sweyn watched over her like a hawk, still wary of our Muslim hosts. I now felt more like a guest than a captor, but Sweyn’s warrior instincts led him to be much more cautious. Edwin was also chary and had told our men to be vigilant — not that there was much we could have done, had the Saracens decided to do something untoward.