Crusade by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page A

streets and covered souks, in places so dark and airless it was like passing through caves.
    Camel and horse markets, madrassas and mausoleums all jostled for space in this cramped arena, where districts for the Greeks, the blacks, the Turks and others were crowded around the newer quarters of the city to the north, established by the former Fatimid dynasty. Here, the al-Azhar mosque, with its adjoining university, had stood for three centuries and was now the highest seat of learning in the Islamic world. Part of the building was still shrouded by scaffolding from the repairs Baybars had ordered begun several years earlier. The smooth white limestone that clad the new side had been taken from the Pyramids and the many Crusader castles in Palestine the sultan had spent the sixteen years of his reign demolishing. The old part of Cairo, Fustat Misr, was located south of the citadel, opposite an island in the Nile. On the island was a palace erected by the Mamluks’ former Ayyubid master, the towers of which Baybars had given to Kalawun and the Mansuriyya Regiment as barracks. Between the sand-blown city and the hostile expanses of the desert, the Nile, the city’s life-blood, flowed endlessly.
    Baybars turned to Kalawun with a smile, the expression not quite reflected in his wintry eyes. “We have been comrades for more than half our lives, my brother,” he said, kissing the commander’s cheeks. “Now we are family.”
    “It is an honor I cherish, my Lord Sultan,” replied Kalawun.
    “But now the wedding of our children is over, we must turn our eye to matters abroad.” Baybars’s manner was instantly all business. “A messenger has come bearing news from our northern territories. The Ilkhan has assembled an army. The Mongols are on the move.”
    “How large an army?” questioned Kalawun, the sultan’s words causing the familiar ripple of concern to spread through him, as it always did whenever news came in to inform them that their calm was about to be shattered; that battle and death might be just around the corner.
    “Thirty thousand, made up of Mongols from the Ilkhan’s Anatolian garrison and Seljuk soldiers under the command of their pervaneh.”
    “Do we know where they are headed?” asked Kalawun, surprised that the Seljuk pervaneh was leading his men alongside the Mongols. It was rumored that the pervaneh , who acted as regent for the boy sultan of the Seljuk realm of Anatolia, was unhappy with the Mongols’ occupation of his lands. His relationship with his overlord, Abaga, Ilkhan of Persia and great-grandson of Genghis Khan, was said to be strained.
    “One of our patrols on the Euphrates frontier captured a Mongol scout. They were able to extract the information from him. The Mongols plan to attack al-Bira.”
    Kalawun, glancing at the other amirs, saw by their faces that they had already heard this news. “Do we know when, my lord?”
    “Soon. That is all they were able to ascertain. But it was almost five weeks ago that our garrison at al-Bira received this information. The attack could have already occurred. The message went by way of Aleppo. My governor there was sending seven thousand troops to help fortify the city. He also planned to raise a levy of Bedouin. But we all know how unpredictable mercenaries can prove,” Baybars added.
    “Then we have need of haste.”
    Baybars gestured to one of the amirs, a dusky-skinned man of his and Kalawun’s age. “Amir Ishandiyar will lead his regiment to al-Bira, along with two other commanders. They leave tomorrow. If the Mongols have not yet attacked, our forces will remain to reinforce the city. If they have . . .” Baybars paused. “Ishandiyar will deal with them.”
    “If we ride swiftly, we can reach Aleppo within thirty-six days,” said Ishandiyar. “We can collect fresh supplies and any auxiliary forces available to us, then continue to al-Bira. It is only a two-day march from there.”
    “We have to hope that will be enough time,”