Late in the afternoon, as the setting sun cast crimson streaks over the walls, Jerusalem was settling down for the night. Yet, certain nervous energy ran through the holy city. Food and water were rationed a little less carefully than before – for one night, wine flowed like water. Siege engines were at the walls, one to the north and one to the south. An army stood ready to trample Jerusalem in her sleep.
But for the moment, though the ring of steel could be heard in parts of the city of the garrison sharpening her blades or smiths working the foundry late into the night, there was no fighting. Each party was biding its time – planning around one another. The defenders wanted to delay the battle as long as possible: It was heartening to know that their own supplies would outlast those of the crusaders, and an Egyptian army was only days away. Frankish invaders had other plans of course; the Genoan fleet had brought news of the approaching army and it was becoming painfully evident that if they were not sleeping in Jerusalem by the end of the week, they would instead be sleeping in the arms of Christ.
Each man, pious though he may be, agreed that he would like to postpone that eventuality as long as humanly possible.
It was clear, then, that the battle would be decided within the next few days. The Egyptian garrison, although poorly liked by the populace of the recently conquered city, had become the last thing standing between each family and the point of a sword. It was no secret how their enemies reviled them, after all, and defeat would come at much greater a price than it had when Egypt had taken the city under the pretense of protecting it.
Yet, in defiance of the army at the gates, the walls of Jerusalem stood strong. Though outnumbered nearly four to one they felt the odds were not so heavily stacked against them. They had after all fortified city, with two walls and three thousand men. One man might as well be three, fighting here! What’s more the garrison was well-rested, and well fed; quite the opposite of the Crusaders, who had starved the whole month they camped beyond the walls, exposed to the bitter elements and the slow wrath of God. Surely they would win the day, when heretics had the gall to assault the holy city in the name of God?
The poisoned wells hadn’t made life much easier, either.
Along the eastern walls of the city lay a dragon’s stable complex. There, although he was typically quartered on his master’s own property, Marduk lean-ed against an old wooden gate – craning his neck so that the dragon on the other side might rub its snout between his ears. The Arabian blue arched his back, tail thumping once against the stall, purring thickly quite as though they were all alone. Of course, they were not, but this would be as close as they could get tonight.
“Shh… be easy, Marduk.” Whispered the larger male, nipping the rounded point of his ear. “The Fatimid might be alien to us, but their swords are as sharp as their wits. The franj have no way to break our walls – they can come in by two points at most, and that’s not so very hard to defend against. The archers on the walls will kill them by the dozens if they are foolish enough to attack.”
Marduk sighed heavily, lowering his ears and looking out into the streets of the city. “I know, Alikar. But it is not always so simple. They are desperate, and desperate men will do terrible things. I am worried.”
His companion nudges Marduk with his snout and rather more sternly admonishes him. “Go on now, you fuss too much. Trust that God will shield you, and the world will mend our fair city’s wounds in time.”
Reluctantly, Marduk turned away from Alikar and ventured into the streets – pausing to ensure that they had not been observed by any humans. While his master might chose to let God be judge of his deeds, it was not exactly a sentiment shared by the rest of the populace. He’d learned the hard way that his relationship with Alikar was not something by the Quran. And people got very upset about that. Thankfully, the coast was clear, and he slipped back into the street and made his way to the Al-Aqsa mosque. Of course, being a dragon, he could not enter the mosque or in fact any holy site belonging to any of the three primary religions in Jerusalem. Nevertheless, he bowed his head toward the structure, devoting a moment of silence.
