What I did not see was firewood, nor was I confident that our wells could water an army of ten thousand men and as many animals. So no firewood, and no wood to construct siege engines.
I didn’t mention any of this to John. He was on edge, but then, why should he not be? I was mostly concerned because I’d noted, as Sabraham had said, that most of the Mamluks were men like John. Kipchaks have a well-deserved reputation for honesty, but I wondered how great the temptation might be to abjure his new religion and go riding in among men of his own kind, men with obvious riches and power.
For whatever reason, he did not.
We slept under the stars. Then the stars vanished, it rained, and we were miserable, although I was pleased to see that my chosen camp shrugged off the water easily. Then the moon rose on the world and we were cold – cotton holds no heat when damp. It was a long night, and the first grey light of morning was cheering.
Meeting Sabraham at the appointed rendezvous, a wrecked ship pulled high up the beach to the west, was even more cheering.
He looked out to sea. ‘We have missed our day,’ he said. ‘The governor was away visiting Cairo with his bodyguard. Now he is back.’ He looked at me.
I pointed at John. ‘You should ask John, but I think the governor rode out again this morning.’
Sabraham turned and spoke in Turkish. They both spoke at once, then John spoke, pointed at me, and smiled.
‘The governor is marching to Mecca!’ Sabraham said. ‘Well done, Sir William.’
I laughed. ‘He might be going to the moon for all I’d know. I need to learn Arabic. I’m as helpless as a babe here.’
Sabraham asked another question in Turkish. John answered in Arabic. They both looked at me.
‘You like it here?’ Sabraham asked.
It was an odd question. I must have shown this in my face. Sabraham put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Some men can’t stand the foreign. Sights and smells they don’t know seem to anger them, or terrify them. To do this task, you must like the people with whom you mix.’
I smiled. ‘Oh, as to that,’ I said. In fact, I’d liked what I saw, except the dead beggars. You could walk London from one side to another, and you’d only see a dead man in the gutter on a bad day. That’s what alms and hospitals are for, in London. When rich men die, they endow so many beds for the poor. And the same in Venice.
‘Did you learn aught else?’ Sabraham asked.
I pointed east. ‘We can land anywhere here,’ I said, ‘Except right off the long point, which is all mud and soft sand. There’s good ground for a camp to the south and west. There’s water.’ I was tired, that’s what I remember best about that morning. ‘But no wood.’
Sabraham laughed. ‘Welcome to Egypt,’ he said. ‘There’s no wood here. Well done. You did well to avoid the riot. I was afraid you were caught in it.’
I explained how narrowly we had escaped.
Sabraham didn’t seem to be listening. When I was done, he waved at the walls of the city, a mile distant. ‘Do you think we can take it, with your friends the crusaders?’ he asked.
‘How many in the garrison?’ I asked.
He smiled. ‘Two hundred per gate. Forty-three gates. A thousand superb cavalry in reserve.’
‘Ten thousand men,’ I calculated. ‘We’re attacking a walled city with a garrison almost twice the size of our whole army.’
Sabraham smiled thinly. ‘Yes.’