The Holy Land - 1191 AD

As the pair rode through the great gates at Tyre, Richard's ears were assaulted by a veritable babble of voices. He had heard tales of Tyre, both from his studies and from some of the other knights in the Crusader army. The great walls and the guard towers had obviously seen better days. The stones that clad them had long since been removed - "Pilfered," Emrys offered by way of explanation. "The people here would sell you the teeth from your mouth if they thought they could." - to reveal the ancient Roman bricks and rubble that formed the core of these structures. Compared to the walls of Acre, those of Tyre were best described as ramshackle. And the gates of the city were no better. They still hung crookedly from their iron hinges: a reminder of when Salah ad-Din had laid siege to the city only a few years before, but had been beaten back by the defenders. Once inside the city, however, the disappointment Richard felt was soon dispelled.

The streets of the city were thronged with people. Wherever Richard looked, he saw all the peoples of the Mediterranean. There were curly-haired Greeks disputing with each other, swarthy tribesmen of the interior who regarded all with equal suspicion, the dark-skinned Africans of the southern coastline in their colourful clothing, small groups of Jews haggling with each other, even Europeans mingling with the others. Everywhere there was a babble of voices as everyone seemed to be talking at once in every tongue imaginable. And above it all, displayed on every standard, was the five-part cross of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

Richard felt his ribs being nudged. "Stop gawking," Emrys said, his voice cutting through the hubbub. "They will take you for a fool and treat you accordingly."

"How do you mean?"

"You'll see. Now, come with me." Emrys dug his heels into the side of his mount and urged it through the masses.

Richard leaned down to pat the neck of his steed, King. "Come on, then. It can't be any worse than when we galloped towards the Saracen armies, eh?" The horse responded by tossing its head and trotting on in the wake of Emrys's two.

It was obvious after a while that the scholar knew exactly where he was going. Every so often he would pause to look around; then, obviously reassured, he would set off again with a renewed sense of purpose. Baffled and lost, Richard had no choice but to follow him Much to the Golden Knight's relief, they soon left the busy streets with their stalls and hawkers, entering a part of the city where buildings of stone and mud brick rose up above them. The upper floors of these buildings came closer and closer above the narrow streets until they almost formed a vaulted roof. A few faces looked at the pair as they passed by, but otherwise no-one remarked on their presence.

Emrys halted his horses outside one of the buildings. There was nothing to mark it out as different from the others, but from the expression on the scholar's face, Richard was sure that he had found what he was looking for. "Do you have friends here? Richard asked.

"I hope so. It has been a while." Emrys reached out with his staff and rapped on the door of the building. It was not long before the door was opened by an old man, dressed in a long, black shift. His head was covered by a blue and white embroidered cloth, and Richard could see grey strands of hair snaking out from beneath it. The old man glared at Emrys through age-narrowed eyes.

"If you are seeking a bed for the night, go away," the old man spat in a vulgar Greek.

Emrys smiled, pressed his hands together and bowed his head in greeting before answering the man in the same language. "Is this still the house of Joshua, son of the tribe of Asher?"

The old man's face softened somewhat. "And if it is? What business do you have?"

Emrys cleared his throat and spoke in a language that Richard did not understand; however it was obviously one that the old man did. As soon as the words left Emrys's mouth, the old man hobbled forward and pulled the scholar from his horse in a brotherly embrace. The Golden Knight watched baffled as the two chattered at each other. Then the old man looked up at him and pointed.

"Ah," Emrys said in Greek. "This gangling youth? Allow me to introduce Richard of Warwick. Richard, this is Joshua. He is a friend of long standing."

The old man - Joshua - nodded. "If Aurelius - ," Emrys glared at the old man , "- Emrys Wledig speaks for you then you are also welcome here."

Richard looked around the narrow street. "Where shall we leave our horses?"

"Is the stable still nearby?" Emrys asked.

"Hassan's? Yes. But I would count the legs on your horse when you get it back from him," Joshua replied, a wry smile on his face. "If anything, the son is even more devious than his father was. I will have some tea for you when you return."

"We will not be long." Emrys disentangled himself from Joshua and pulled himself back onto his horse. "Come, Richard. Follow me."

The Golden Knight did as he was told, and followed Emrys through the maze of streets to a square surrounded by ruined buildings. Where there had once been an ancient temple, somebody had erected a shelter made from wood and cloth. A dozen horses stood listlessly in a corral, flicking their tails back and forth in an effort to dislodge the flies that settled on them. The owner of the stables scowled at them, but was all smiles and salaams when Richard paid him a handful of silver coins.

As they started on their way way back to the house of Joshua, Richard still felt some misgivings about leaving his horse at the stables. "Can we trust that man? His accommodations did not look the best."

Emrys flashed the Golden Knight a confident smile. "If he is like his father, he is a thief. But an honest thief. So long as he is paid, then he will keep his word."

A thought occurred to Richard. "But what if someone else was to pay him?"

"And who would pay a known thief, eh? Our horses are safe. Now, I know that Joshua brews a fine infusion of mint. I can recommend it as an aid to digestion." Emrys patted his midriff. "And you will need it if his taste in food is as bad as I remember."