Lionheart A Novel - By Sharon Kay Penman Page 0,162

.” Anna was looking puzzled, for she’d spoken in her native Romance, and she reached over, patted the girl’s arm. “You do not understand what I am saying, do you?” She hesitated, feeling as if she’d reached another crossroads and, as she’d done then, she embraced the truth. “Oui,” she said, nodding and mimicking Anna’s gesture by placing her hand over her heart. Anna smiled, obviously approving, and they remained together on deck, watching until the island of Cyprus had vanished into the low-lying clouds cloaking the horizon.

CHAPTER 19

JUNE 1191

Tyre, Outremer

The men fell silent as Tyre came into view, impressed by its formidable defenses and moved by their first glimpse of a city where the Lord Christ had once walked. Tyre was virtually an island, connected to the mainland by a short and narrow causeway. A protective breakwater or mole extended out into the sea, a heavy chain stretching from a high tower on its eastern edge to a second tower on land, barring entry to the harbor. Richard was surprised to find his eyes misting as he gazed upon the ancient stone walls of this legendary biblical city. It had been more than three years since he’d taken the cross upon hearing of Jerusalem’s fall, years in which his holy quest had often seemed like a tantalizing dream, glimmering on the horizon just out of reach. At long last, it was about to take tangible form.

André joined him in the prow of their galley, frowning at the sight of that taut chain, for they’d sent Baldwin de Bethune and Pierre and Guilhem de Préaux ahead in a small sagitta to announce Richard’s arrival. “Why have they not lowered the barrier so we can enter the harbor?”

That pragmatic query brought Richard back to reality and he frowned, too. He signaled to Alan Trenchmer, his galley’s master, and as soon as they were within hailing distance, Trenchmer demanded entry for the English king’s fleet. But there was no response from either guard tower, although they were close enough now to see men upon the battlements. Trenchmer was about to shout again when they saw their sagitta coming back.

The smaller ship’s oarsmen skillfully angled it alongside the royal galley. Even before Baldwin and the Préaux brothers scrambled onto the deck, the men knew that something was greatly amiss. Richard could not recall ever seeing the phlegmatic Fleming so agitated. Baldwin’s fair skin was mottled with hot color, his blue eyes narrowed to slits, and he was cursing under his breath as he swung himself over the gunwale. Richard did not speak a word of Flemish, but there was no need of translation.

“The whoresons refuse to let us into the harbor!”

There was a moment of shocked silence and then exclamations of outrage. Richard was incredulous. “Conrad dared to say that I am not welcome in Tyre?”

“He was not there. He is at Acre, taking part in the siege. But his men said that he’d given them explicit orders that the English king was not to be admitted to his city. To their credit, they looked ashamed at turning away men who’d taken the cross.” Baldwin grimaced, as if tasting something sour. “Apparently Conrad’s father is now dead, for his men were referring to him as ‘the marquis.’ And it seems he has laid formal claim to the crown, for they also called him ‘the Kingelect of Jerusalem.’” He punctuated that sentence by turning and spitting over the side of the gunwale.

André glanced toward a nearby galley, flying the yellow crosses of Outremer. “That will not please Guy,” he said, in a masterful understatement.

It did not please Richard, either. Raising a hand to silence the indignant protests of his men, he gave Alan Trenchmer a terse command to anchor the fleet in the lee of the breakwater. Glancing back at Tyre, looking deceptively tranquil in the golden dusk, he shook his head in disgust. “What does it say,” he said caustically, “when our enemy, an infidel Saracen, is a man of greater honor than our Christian ally?”

THE FOLLOWING MORNING their fleet cruised south, the twenty-five galleys staying within sight of the coast. Richard had invited Guy and Joffroi de Lusignan to join him on the Sea-Cleaver, for he wanted to discuss the siege with men who’d been there since the beginning. Ironically, the attack upon Acre was the result of a rebuff like the one Richard had just experienced. After the defeat at Ḥa���ṭīn, Guy had been held prisoner by Salah al-Dīn for more