Arab countries -- Fiction; Crusades -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Medieval period, 1066-1485 -- Fiction
It was near midnight, and the brethren stood in the small, domed
ante-chamber, from which a door opened into the sleeping rooms of
Saladin. The guard of eight Mameluks had left them, to be met by their
relief in the courtyard, according to custom, but no relief had as yet
appeared in the ante-chamber.
“It would seem that Masouda’s tale is true,” said Godwin, and going to
the door he locked it, and hid the key beneath a cushion.
Then they took their stand in front of the locked door, before which
hung curtains, standing in the shadow with the light from the hanging
silver lamps pouring down in front of them. Here they waited awhile in
silence, till at length they heard the tramp of men, and eight
Mameluks, clad in yellow above their mail, marched in and saluted.
“Stand!” said Godwin, and they stood a minute, then began to edge
forward.
“Stand!” said both the brethren again, but still they edged forward.
“Stand, sons of Sinan!” they said a third time, drawing their swords.
Then with a hiss of disappointed rage the _fedaï_ came at them.
“_A D’Arcy! A D’Arcy!_ Help for the Sultan!” shouted the brethren, and
the fray began.
Six of the men attacked them, and while they were engaged with these
the other two slipped round and tried the door, only to find it fast.
Then they also turned upon the brethren, thinking to take the key from
off their bodies. At the first rush two of the _fedaï_ went down
beneath the sweep of the long swords, but after that the murderers
would not come close, and while some engaged them in front, others
strove to pass and stab them from behind. Indeed, a blow from one of
their long knives fell upon Godwin’s shoulder, but the good mail turned
it.
“Give way,” he cried to Wulf, “or they will best us.”
So suddenly they gave way before them till their backs were against the
door, and there they stood, shouting for help and sweeping round them
with their swords into reach of which the _fedaï_ dare not come. Now
from without the chamber rose a cry and tumult, and the sound of heavy
blows falling upon the gates that the murderers had barred behind them,
while upon the further side of the door, which he could not open, was
heard the voice of the Sultan demanding to know what passed.
The _fedaï_ heard these sounds also, and read in them their doom.
Forgetting caution in their despair and rage, they hurled themselves
upon the brethren, for they thought that if they could get them down
they might still break through the door and slay Salah-ed-din before
they themselves were slain. But for awhile the brethren stopped their
rush with point and buckler, wounding two of them sorely; and when at
length they closed in upon them, the gates were burst, and Hassan and
the outer guard were at hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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