The Wolf and the Snake (English version)

Chapter 7

The St. John's church also has very high ceilings. During the day, long stained glass windows with multiple colors filter light. And torches cast fantastic shadows on walls and floors at nightfall.

Not far from the altar where a large cross shows Jesus crucified, the two chaplains seem to be praying fervently. I approach discreetly, keeping my eyes lowered because religious don't appreciate a woman staring at them boldly.

But I would like to see the heads hidden under their dark hoods.

"Uh! Forgive me if my presence disturbs your prayers."

Not answer! They witnessed the altercation with the guards, that's for sure. Do they think I'm taking the side of the Mohammedans against the Christians? It's one thing to fight with a few dumb guards, but these two chaplains shouldn't talk nonsense. That could get me into trouble, even to the point of losing my precious job.

"I can swear I work tirelessly for Christians in suffering. But, alas, these uneducated guards mistreat the captives because they're Mohammedans."

Still no reaction!

The situation is serious!

"For heaven's sake! I offer my skills as a physician against a meager remuneration. And now I'm suspected of anything!"

Hidden under his hood, one of the chaplains finally spoke up, "You're a silly girl! Defending useless old people who had the stupidity to be captured."

May God protect me! I know this voice as strong as thunder.

Baibars!

And the other one is probably Qalawun.

The two Mamelukes were quietly in front of me when I was afraid they would pick a fight with my husband and his cousin in Cairo.

So what happened?

I'm angry because I didn't immediately recognize their soldierly build under priests' disguises.

Baibars looks at me haughtily, following his old habit, and I hide my fear as best I can.

"I have a few things to ask you, slave!"

I answer with a trembling voice, "I'm not a slave anymore."

"Running away doesn't change your condition," Qalawun says with conviction.

I would love to make him eat his words, but I have to be careful.

"What do you want?"

Baibars's clear eyes are fastened on me.

"To know who killed my brother," he questions in a threatening tone.

I reply without hesitation, "Qutuz's men!"

"Just as we thought!" Qalawun exclaims.

"I'll soon slaughter that stinking dog!" Baibars growls.

"He plots in secret to obtain Aybak's and Shajar's favors, while he dreams of stealing the throne," his acolyte explains. "We're not safe in Cairo anymore because this hypocrite hates all the Mamelukes of another ethnicity than his own. Aktai is our leader, and he wants to avoid a bloody confrontation for the moment. He prefers to go to Syria and seize several strongholds. We must follow him!"

Suddenly, Baibars's face seems very pale. He put his hand on his stomach, and I understand he's hurt.

"He has a bad wound! Spies have informed us about your husband's departure for Cairo and that you were a physician here! In this state, he won't go to Syria. So he needs to be treated," Qalawun mumbles.

I'm willing to do anything to get rid of these two. But I'm a doctor, and I can't let a man die without trying to save him. Fortunately, I brought my equipment for the visit to the dungeons.

"Let him lie down on the bench!" I order.

The giant was very lucky. His wound is superficial, even if it has suppurated abundantly. He's one of those soldiers made of powerful muscles and countless scars. He refused to let me put him to sleep, only gritting his teeth throughout the treatment. I cleaned the wound before suturing it and applied a tight bandage. He didn't make a single complaint, as if his suffering or that of others was a deep mystery for him.

I hesitate to ask if Assia and her child are alive. It's Baibars who grudgingly chooses to inform me.

"My son survived the attack."

I answer him with sincerity, "It's a relief! And Assia?"

"Horses trampled her, and her legs were broken! So now, the poor girl is disabled for life," Qalawun says.

"You see the consequences of your escape!" Baibars growls as he struggles to his feet.

I feel sad for the unfortunate Assia, but I can't let him blame me for this tragedy.

"I'm not responsible for Qutuz's misdeeds!"

He stares at me viciously.

"I'm not an idiot, slave! I know the king of France's brother paid a ransom for you! I only ignored that Qutuz was the one who betrayed Altan."

Then, he looks at me from head to toe and asks contemptuously, "Have you rewarded Charles of Anjou as much as he expected?"

I stand straight, impassive under the insult. I pray for Baibars and his accomplice to go far from me, from my husband, to conquer territories full of wealth, of women so beautiful that the two Mamelukes will leave me alone once and for all.

"Calm down!" Qalawun advises the giant. "We will get this slave back when we've dispatched with our enemies."

And he turns to me.

"Take it for granted! From now on, you belong to Baibars because his brother is dead!"

I want to shout and attract some people.

I dream of putting in the dungeon these two lascars full of self-importance, but the church is irremediably deserted. Fortunately, they're forced to flee to Syria. Otherwise, I would have been promptly tied up and thrown on a horse.

A simple piece of furniture has a more enviable fate.

They left Acre in their priests' clothes without being bothered, crossing safely the monumental stone gate closing the street. It leads to the port through the Genoese quarter, where a ship is probably waiting for them.

Let's hope that Reyn comes back soon!

The Mohammedans' shenanigans among themselves seem alarming, even if the Christians wish to take advantage of it.

***