Franks, a great defeat for the Saracens.
Henri soon realized that Richard was not joining in the jubilation. He answered questions readily enough, accepted their compliments with a smile, and agreed that it had been an outstanding success. But he seemed to be doing what was expected of him, not really sharing in the rejoicing. His behavior was so out of character to Henri that he seized the first opportunity to draw Richard aside for a private word.
“The celebrating is likely to go on far into the night. Even the French are well satisfied; it is the first time I’ve seen Burgundy smile in months. So why are you not better pleased about it, Uncle?”
“I am pleased,” Richard insisted, and Henri shook his head.
“You ought to be triumphant. You dealt Saladin a grievous wound, gained enough pack animals for a campaign in Egypt, and gave the Saracens another story to tell around their campfires about Malik Ric.”
“But it has changed nothing, Henri. I could have captured every blessed beast from Dārūm to Damascus and it would not matter, for the French will never agree to a campaign in Egypt and I cannot convince them of their folly.”
Henri could not dispute that. “At least you’ve kept them from besieging Jerusalem.”
“And half the army will never forgive me for it.”
Henri started to speak, then stopped himself, for he could not dispute that either.
RICHARD DISTRIBUTED the camels to his knights and the donkeys to the men-at-arms, and the chroniclers reported that all rejoiced. The euphoria did not last long, though, and soon some were complaining because such a large number of pack animals had sent the price of grain soaring. But the underlying cause of their discontent was the decision not to besiege Jerusalem, and the Duke of Burgundy and the Bishop of Beauvais seized the opportunity to argue again for an assault upon the Holy City. The debate ended when Richard’s Syrian spies reported that Salah al-Dīn had poisoned the wells and destroyed all the cisterns within two leagues of Jerusalem in anticipation of a siege, for no army could hope to prevail without water. The French then set up their own camp apart from the others, and Hugh wrote a satiric song about Richard, annoying the latter so much that he retaliated in kind and composed a mocking song of his own. By now it was obvious to all that such deep divisions could not be healed, and the decision was made to withdraw from Bait Nūbā and head back to Jaffa. It was July 4, the fifth anniversary of the calamitous Christian defeat at Ḥaṭṭīn.
HENRI SPURRED HIS STALLION to catch up to Richard. The day was utterly still, with not even a vagrant breeze, the sky devoid of clouds or birds and leached of color; it seemed almost white to Henri every time he squinted up at the blinding blaze of the sun. The heat was brutal, but they no longer needed to fear burns and peeling; by now even men as fair-skinned as Richard and Henri were deeply tanned. He could hear the drone of insects, the plodding of hooves, but no other sounds, for the army was marching in eerie silence. He found himself thinking that it was as if these thousands of unhappy men had become ghosts, trapped in a waking dream. He knew it was not a good sign when he was getting so morbidly fanciful and he glanced over at his uncle. “What now?” he asked, his mouth and throat so dry that the words emerged as a croak.
Richard kept his eyes on the road ahead. “We reopen talks with Saladin,” he said, “and hope that he is as war-weary and discouraged as we are.”
HUMPHREY DE TORON was very busy for a fortnight, going back and forth between Jaffa and Jerusalem. Richard and Salah al-Dīn had been able to agree upon the basic terms fairly quickly, for they were not that different from those Richard had originally proposed to al-’Ādil. The land was to be divided, with the Saracens retaining the “mountain castles” and the Franks holding on to Richard’s coastal conquests, with the area in between to be shared by both. Salah al-Dīn and his council were willing to give Richard the Holy Sepulchre and to allow Christian pilgrims free access to Jerusalem, the sultan promising “to treat your sister’s son like one of my own sons.” But Ascalon was to be the rock upon which the peace negotiations foundered, for Salah al-Dīn insisted that