Kingdom by Jack Hight

the seneschal Guy and the constable Humphrey on one side, and on the other by Gilbert and Bertrand, masters of the Hospitallers and Templars, respectively. Amalric was dressed in full regalia: the royal robe of ermine upon his shoulders, the crown of Jerusalem upon his brow, and a sceptre grasped in his right hand. He looked the part of a king, but even from the shadows at the rear of the room, John could tell that Amalric was nervous. It was not just the return of his childhood stutter; the king was also stroking his thick blond beard. John had been at court long enough to learn that this was as agitated as Amalric ever became.
    Al-Khlata put his hand to his heart and bowed. ‘As-salaamu alaykum, Malik,’ he began in Arabic. William translated. ‘I am honoured by your kind welcome. I am sure that the Caliph and Vizier Shawar will be equally pleased.’
    Amalric tugged more doggedly at his beard. ‘P-perhaps they will be less pleased when they hear what I have to say. If you have come to seek p-p—’ The king’s face reddened, he took a deep breath and started again. ‘If you have come to seek our friendship, then you must know that cannot be. You have allied with Nur ad-Din. You have allowed his army into C-Cairo itself. There can be no peace between our p-peoples so long as his men remain in your lands.’
    ‘Of course. That is precisely why Shawar has sent me. He needs your help to drive Nur ad-Din’s army from Egypt.’
    John could hardly believe his ears. Shawar had only just signed a treaty with Nur ad-Din. William seemed equally surprised. He stood with his mouth open, although he had not yet translated Shawar’s words.
    ‘Well?’ Amalric demanded. He looked from William to John. ‘What did he say?’
    John cleared his throat. ‘He asked us to invade Egypt, sire. Shawar wants us to drive out Nur ad-Din.’
    ‘By Christ’s wounds,’ murmured the Templar, Bertrand. ‘We can open the holy sites to pilgrimage: where Moses crossed the Red Sea; where Joseph and Mary rested during their flight from Bethlehem.’
    William stepped closer to the throne. ‘An invasion will cost money, sire.’
    ‘The Egyptians have untold wealth,’ Gilbert noted.
    Amalric stroked his beard. ‘Ask him what Shawar offers in return for our assistance.’ William translated the request.
    ‘Caliph al-Adid will recognize you as his overlord,’ Al-Khlata replied, ‘and pay you four hundred thousand dinars.’
    The seneschal paled. ‘That is nearly equivalent to our annual revenue, sire.’
    ‘King of Jerusalem and lord of Egypt,’ Amalric murmured. ‘I could hire enough men to take Damascus. Succeed where my brother failed.’ The king’s forehead creased and his lips began to tremble. He burst out laughing, and Al-Khlata took a step back. The lords around the throne shifted uncomfortably. The fit subsided, and Amalric resumed his impassive expression. He looked to William. ‘Offer m-my apologies to Al-Khlata. And tell him that I accept his offer.’
    ‘Perhaps it would be wise to reflect before accepting, sire,’ Guy said. ‘We know nothing of this Al-Khlata. Can we trust him? Or his master? Why would Shawar turn his back on his fellow Saracens to ally with us?’
    John stepped forward. ‘They are Saracens, sire, but they are not the same.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ Amalric asked.
    ‘The Egyptians are Shiites. They look to the Fatimid caliph in Cairo. Nur ad-Din and his men are Sunni, under the caliph in Baghdad.’
    ‘They are all Mohammedans,’ the seneschal said.
    ‘Just as they consider the English and French to all be Franks,’ John said, ‘whereas we know that they are in fact quite different.’
    ‘I see,’ Amalric said. ‘What do you say to this, William?’
    ‘I council caution, sire. If Shawar is willing to betray Nur ad-Din, then what is to say that he will not betray us in turn?’
    Bertrand nodded. ‘William is right.’
    ‘Very well,’ Amalric said. ‘Tell him that we need time to