Lionheart by Stewart Binns

Author:Stewart Binns [Binns, Stewart]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: England/Great Britain, Fiction - Historical, Action & Adventure, 12th Century, Military & Fighting
ISBN: 978-1405913614
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2014-11-27T05:00:00+00:00

18. Margat

By mid-morning the next day, we were making rapid progress along the coast of Palestine. The princesses had come on board bleary-eyed and sullen, with only a handmaiden each, a modest chest of belongings and a small casket of silver. I felt sorry for them; only a few weeks ago, they were princesses of a beautiful island realm, surrounded by all the trappings of wealth and without a care in the world. Now, all but alone, they had voluntarily relinquished the lifeline of a place at the court of Queen Bérengère to go to a father imprisoned in a remote Hospitaller enclave, in the midst of a relentless enemy.

The galley put us ashore in a small horseshoe-shaped sandy bay. The King’s conroi escorted us to the barbican of Margat, before it returned to board the ship and sail back to Acre. It was strange to be in a small group of eleven after so many months in the company of an army of thousands, especially as we appeared to be so small beneath the colossal walls of Margat.

It was a forbidding sight, a towering edifice of black rock, high on a hill, looming over a countryside dotted only with small farms and hamlets. The land was patterned with olive groves and vineyards, as it had been for centuries, but was now dominated by this new Christian sentinel. Amidst the sweltering heat of summer, the castle’s only redeeming feature was its cool interior. Otherwise, it was an austere place with none of the trappings of a regal palace. The Hospitallers lived spartan lives; even Gerard, the Castellan of Margat, a tall and gaunt Burgundian, lived frugally, with only two chairs and a prayer desk in a room without decorations or luxuries of any kind, except the Bible that sat on the desk.

Margat was home to over 1,000 men: almost 400 knights and their attendants, plus other non-combatants. The Hospitallers presented a menacing image in their long black cappas, especially when in large groups early in the mornings, with their hoods up against the cool of the dawn air. In the half-light, with their soft leather shoes making no sound on the castle’s sett stones, they looked like spectres of long-dead knights killed in battle centuries before.

Anna and Theodora’s father was free to move around the castle’s rooms and bailey, but not beyond its walls. He had just one steward to attend to him and lived in a chamber as austere as the knights’ quarters. When he greeted us, he looked weary and despondent, but he was thrilled to see his daughters.

As the princesses went inside Margat’s keep to enjoy their reunion, I sat with Alun and Godric and the rest of the Little Quintet to explain our route to the north. Godric had reservations about the journey.

‘Sire, the Hospitallers only guard the road to the north for about a hundred miles from here; after that, we would be at the mercy of the Muslims. Then we have to cross Anatolia, which is the domain of the Seljuk Turks.

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