02 Crusade by Robyn Young

Author:Robyn Young
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It is safe.

As he saw Ishandiyar’s message, Kalawun felt relief rise like a spring inside him, washing away the troubles that had been clouding his mind since he had left Cairo. But hardly had his worry for the safety of the Stone faded, when he felt a new twinge of concern as he wondered whether any of Campbell’s men, or even Campbell himself had been hurt by his actions. Had he been rash to send Ishandiyar? No, he told himself firmly. Campbell’s letter revealed none of his intentions and all his assurances counted for little in Kalawun’s mind when faced with the possibility of failure. Not only could he allow no harm to come to the Stone, but the threat of war behind the theft had simply been too great for him not to act. But still he remained discomforted by the feeling of betrayal that darkened his mind and the thought that he might have stained his hands with yet more blood in his pursuit of peace.

The Citadel, Damascus, 11 June 1277 AD

After only two days’ rest, the Mamluks gathered to discuss their plans, following the news that Abagha had entered the Seljuks’ realm with his three toumans and had set about making swift reprisals upon the Muslims in Anatolia who had welcomed Baybars. Some indication of the Ilkhan’s wrath and his capacity for vengeance could be gauged by rumours that the Seljuk Pervaneh, who fled the battlefield at Albistan after his lacklustre involvement, was killed and served up in a stew at a state banquet. Abagha himself was said to have accepted a healthy portion. The Ilkhan was now camped out in the realm, glaring at Syria across the Taurus divide. But word was that he had no plans to enter his enemy’s territory, lacking the manpower to attack Baybars on his own ground. The two lions, their prides gathered around them, could only watch one another from afar, both grudgingly accepting of the fact that neither, for the moment, was strong enough to defeat the other.

During the debate, which centred around what the Mamluks’ next move should be, a Bahri warrior entered and crossed to Baybars.

Kalawun glanced over, seeing the sultan lower his head as the soldier moved in close and murmured something.

‘Bring him in,’ said Baybars, his deep voice cutting across the amirs who were speaking.

‘My lord?’ questioned Kalawun, as the amirs looked round, wondering who would dare to interrupt their council.

Baybars didn’t respond and, instead, rose to his feet. A few moments later, the Bahri soldier returned, with two others flanking a young man in dirty black robes. The man carried his head high as he entered, his arrogance evident in his bold stance and his keen eyes, which met the sultan’s gaze unflinchingly.

‘Sultan Baybars,’ he said, not bothering to bow. ‘I have come to collect the remainder of the money promised to my Order for the ransom of your officer, Nasir. We would have delivered him sooner, only we did not realise you had left Cairo.

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