Beasts of the Seventh Crusade (The Crusades Book 4) (29 page)

And then he saw King Louis, running behind a horse. He was malnourished, yellow-skinned, and filthy. His eyes had become empty orbs, devoid of hope or rescue. Turanshah saw King Louis and the weight of Egypt lightened on his shoulders. The man was a valuable bargaining piece on the world stage. If France wanted her king back, she would empty her nation's coffers into Turanshah's pockets. All things considered, the Seventh Crusade had been a resounding success for the Ayyubids.

Chapter Thirty

KING LOUIS IX, THE MIGHTY MONARCH of France and world shaker, collapsed within ten miles of Cairo. Turanshah was secretly impressed that Louis had been able to run for so long, but his body was had been pushed as far it could. He was eating food each night, but his stool was always watery and he vomited often, taking more of his strength.

Turanshah took one look at Louis' battered, emaciated body on the sand and he considered taking the man's head off. Nothing would please him more. But, no, Egypt needed the ransom money that King Louis would fetch. Grudgingly, Turanshah ordered his men to take Louis on a horse and get the royal physician.

The world shook when the warriors under Turanshah slipped under the gates of Cairo. The citizens were out on that spring morning: trading, praying, cooking, talking . . . Turanshah loved his people. They were fierce and proud, and he was a true son of Egypt, embodying everything they cherished. The young sultan waved to the crowds as his soldiers trotted by, and the people responded with deafening roars of approval. With great solemnity, Turanshah raised his hands for a moment of silence.

No one spoke, no one moved. A message from the sultan directly to the public was exceedingly rare, and no one wanted to miss a word.

"My brothers in Allah! My sisters! I bring you my captive, our captive, King Louis of France!" Turanshah pointed to the motionless figure behind one of Turanshah's largest warriors, and the crowd hooted and laughed in pleasure.

"He was living like an animal! He was eating spiders and sleeping in the dirt! This is what happens when you invade EGYPT! EGYPT!" Turanshah shouted the last words and the crowd took up the chant.

EGYPT! EGYPT! EGYPT!

Turanshah laughed and led the march to the palace.

Louis' ailment was a result of malnutrition, the physician said. Louis needed salt, green food, and more water. He needed rest. Turanshah agreed to have Louis treated and fully restored to health, though he would be locked in the palace dungeon while he recovered.

Two months passed. Louis recuperated. Turanshah had waited for the day when the physician would say Louis was fit and hale. When that time came, Turanshah was in the dungeons immediately, gloating.

"Long live the king," he said, through an interpreter.

"What do you want?" Louis asked irritably.

"I want 800,000 bezants from your royal court. You will be sent home when I have received half, and the other half will be delivered on your honor."

Louis coughed. The dungeons, even the ones in the palace, were dreary. He had not seen the sky in two months, nor felt the breeze on his face. His skin was deathly pale. He had put on a good deal of weight in the dungeons, but that was only because he could not work on his fitness.

"How much?"

"You heard me," Turanshah said, staring the interpreter down. If the man was changing his words, or using the wrong ones, Turanshah would have him executed.

"That will require more than the wealth of the palace. It will require old debts be settled with the nobility. Land will need to be sold too."

"I don't care about the details. You invaded my country. If you had succeeded, would you have been so generous with me, the sultan, in captivity? I do not think so. Get the gold or you will be killed." Turanshah stalked out of the room. He had a few French ambassadors on his staff, and he would let them handle the communications with France and King Louis.

The gold was delivered. It was yellow treasure, stacked high on twenty wagons and dragged to Cairo by camels, under heavy guard. The citizens rejoiced and blessed Turanshah and his line for a thousand years. The money was enough to double the size of the army and fortify Ayyubid holdings throughout the world.

True to his word, Turanshah ordered his men to escort Louis to Acre. It was a Jewish state, managed by Jerusalem and multinational. Louis could find his way home from there, or kill himself for bankrupting his nation. It mattered little to Turanshah.

Chapter Thirty-One

THE COQUETS WENT TO PARIS. They heard the rumors about Louis' capture by the Egyptians, and none of them claimed to have been on that expedition. The government, the military, and the citizens of France were angry and humiliated. If anyone identified them as crusaders, they would be chased out of town. Exiled. Banished.

Raul was the first to leave. He went back to his cottage in Troyes and sold everything. With the money he received, he was able to purchase a plot of land in Toulouse. It was an ugly patch of property that bordered some ancient woods. Rumors had abounded in that region of dragon sightings for generations, and Raul said that if the beast ever returned, he wanted to be there to see it.

Artois found a job without much difficulty. His employer was a cartographer; a fat, red-nosed Englishman who needed warriors to escort his mapmaking business to the dark regions of Europe. The cartographer was smart, and he had probably guessed that Artois was a veteran of the Seventh Crusade, but he wisely never asked him about it.

"How long will you work for him?" Francois asked him once. They were drinking ale at a Parisian tavern, admiring the beautiful women who served the heady, brown beverages.

"As long as I please. He says that we will be going to Italy in a few weeks."

"Italy? Where?"

"We'll hit the busy northern cities, and then angle south, eventually reaching Sicily," Artois said, knowing Francois' deep desire to visit their mother.

"Of course."

They left one week later. Francois and Olivia were on horseback, while Artois drove the wagon and the cartographer slept in back. The French sun was high in the sky and the air smelled of honeysuckle and cedar. Bees hovered around patches of wildflowers and rabbits dashed through the fields. The wagon's wheels creaked as they turned, and the steady clip-clop of the horses' hooves on the dirt was relaxing; hypnotizing. The world was beautiful and Italy was many horizons in the future, a grand adventure for another day.

Historical Note

THE SEVENTH CRUSADE was, for all intents and purposes, the last great crusade. There were technically two more subsequent crusades against Muslims, but they were small affairs, negligible on a global scale. The earlier crusades were fueled by religious zealotry that simmered and died out toward the end of the Fourth Crusade. The later crusades were fueled by greed, power, and wealth. Whatever each man's personal reason for going to war, it is notable that half as many men fought in the Seventh Crusade as in the First Crusade.

The crusades all occurred during what's known as the "Dark Ages" in Europe. This was a time of feudal chaos; loyalty to one's nation was reduced to devotion to a warlord or general. Martial skills became necessities to life, and the art of pen and paper was extremely diminished. Therefore, reliable sources are scarce. Perhaps the most well-known account is from a historian who accompanied the Seventh Crusade, Jean de Joinville. I encourage my readers to look him up. Nonetheless, one can piece together bits and pieces of ancient texts (with a little help from the Internet) and decipher what happened on that failed expedition.

The primary language of the Seventh Crusade was French. Non-French speakers made up a small percentage of the crusade, about 15 percent. The Ayyubid Muslims spoke Arabic, chiefly in the upper classes and military. The lower classes spoke Turkish or a dialect of it. I didn't want to constantly write about the interpreters who accompanied the king and the sultan everywhere they went, but I'm sure they were always close at hand.

Thirteenth-century peasantry life is much as I described. Each person had a trade that he did all his life, and acquiring wealth or ascending the social letter was nearly impossible. The best path for a poor man to distinguish himself was in combat, and many young men lost their lives trying to climb out of the poorhouses. In that regard, the Medieval Ages were startlingly similar to modern times.

Dogs have been used extensively for hunting and tracking throughout history, especially in conjunction with horses. The main hunting dog of this period was the greyhound, a strong, rugged breed that was smart and vicious. The later years saw mastiffs utilized for hunting bigger game, although they proved more adept at guard duty.

Dragons have been mentioned in texts and scrolls since before Jesus' time. The legends of giant, flying lizards have survived the years and been featured in more books, movies, and plays than I can count. I inserted a dragon in this book for a few reasons: entertainment, fantasy, and action. But there was another reason. I wanted the reader to consider that all of these dragon legends surely came from somewhere. Is it so unthinkable that dragons ever existed? I personally wonder if pterodactyls survived the extinction of dinosaurs and continued to live in remote, dangerous places until they could no longer sustain a population. (If I had any anthropologist friends, I’m sure they’d be picking up the phone, red-faced, upon reading this) It's always important to note that legends come from somewhere, for some reason.

Béziers is a city on the southern coast of France, roughly 6 miles from the Mediterranean Sea. In 1209, Béziers was a stronghold for Catharism, and it was the first town to be attacked in France’s intra-country crusade, the Albigensian Crusade. Untold thousands of Cathars were massacred by the royal troops, including women and children. Throughout the cold, violent annals of medieval warfare, there are few stories as sad as the massacre at Béziers.

Christof's home in the swamps of southern France would look as I described it. The Camargue Lagoon is in that region south of Toulouse, a fact I wasn't aware of until I researched it. I thought southern France was all shiny beaches and light woodlands, but it's just not true.

"Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning." This is a mantra that seafaring men have repeated for hundreds of years, for good reason. Predicting the weather has always been a dubious science, but at some point sailors realized a reddish glow in the morning sky would indicate storms nearby. Conversely, a reddish glow or haze in the evening was expected and hoped for, indicating a sunset unobstructed by storm clouds.

Tapeworms are vicious little buggers. They are parasites that can be ingested, and the ones that come from undercooked or raw fish are known as Diphyllobothrium. They can live in a human's gut for years before the victim reveals any symptoms. Abdominal pain, weight loss, and fatigue are among the most common symptoms. Though still prevalent in developing countries, tapeworms are fairly rare in the first world. In modern times, you can be cured from a tapeworm completely by antibiotics, but in the 13th century, death was all but certain.

Arabian mythology is fascinating. Before becoming a global, monotheistic religion, Islamic beliefs varied widely depending on geography. The same is still true today, though to a lesser extent. In 13th-century Egypt, there was a large variety of demons and demigods the people could choose to sacrifice to or revere. Ghouls were known as shape-shifting demons that often assumed the guise of an animal, and I tried to replicate that in the mini-adventure that the Coquets took. Whether you are in France, Egypt, or anywhere else, people have a way of turning their nightmares into stories of reality.

Camels have been consumed in the Middle East for thousands of years, up to and including today. It is uncommon, given their value as beasts of labor that require little maintenance, but tough times produce strange appetites.

There is no combination of potions that could boil a cauldron hot enough to perform an arterial cauterization. That bit was completely fictitious, but I felt it made a strong visual that I couldn't ignore.

King Louis was quite the character. Born in 1214, Louis' grandfather died when he was nine years old, and his father died when he was twelve. Louis' mother ruled as regent of France because he was so young, and she made sure Louis received proper "monarch training." He learned government administration, military tactics, writing, Latin, and public speaking as a young child. Dozens of books have been written on the life and times of King Louis IX, and I urge the reader to read those books and make their own conclusions about his character. I added the infidelity and selfishness into his character to illustrate that, despite his elevated status, he was just a man. When King Louis met the girl named Maria, before he was captured by Turanshah, she joked about being named "Queen Mary," the first Queen of England almost 200 years later. In truth, Louis was captured in a small village close to Fariskur, where his men were slaughtered and the crusade ended. He was a captive of the Ayyubids for two months, and the ransom that France raised to free him was an absurd amount of money—800,000 bezants. Each bezant was roughly an ounce of gold, equivalent to $1,300 today. That would make Louis' ransom more than $100,000,000 in today's money.

Louis was released after the ransom was paid. He continued to campaign against the Ayyubids for four years, but in a purely political sense, urging Jerusalem and Syria to resist the spread of Islam throughout the world. He returned to France afterward and died at the age of 56 in 1270. He was (and is) the only king of France to ever be canonized and numerous places all over the world have been named after him, including St. Louis, Missouri.

The Seventh Crusade was ultimately doomed by several factors: King Louis' inexperience, the engineers failing to destroy their pontoon bridge, and the crusaders having difficulty adapting to the desert climate. A rampant problem was dysentery, a type of gastroenteritis where one loses body fluids through diarrhea and vomit. Louis had dysentery when he was captured, though reports claim he was healed by an Arabic physician. Regardless, dysentery could be fatal in those times, and King John and King Henry of England both lost their lives to that amoebic parasite. Curable in modern times, dysentery still plagues foreigners who travel to the desert and drink the water.