Jared stood with Hugh on the walls as the party rode out in the unearthly quiet.
‘Knew it would settle down. Both lots have too much to lose,’ Hugh said.
‘It’ll cost a hill of ducats.’
‘Which won’t concern the likes of we, m’ friend.’
They followed the party until it disappeared among the tents.
‘So let’s be back at work – or will a peace see us with nothing to do?’
Free from the threat of mangonel boulders the streets were thronged with people and traders.
Later that evening, however, with wailing and screaming, the news spread that the Sultan had bluntly demanded the keys of the city in an immediate surrender of Acre and its peoples as a condition of his gracious mercy. Failing which, the siege would be resumed until this last outpost of the Crusaders had been put to the sword.
In a frenzy of fear thousands went to the harbour with what they could carry and took ship, others milled about aimlessly in terror.
The merchants who had not fled earlier took counsel together; their decision, however, was to delay flight until the situation clarified. They had reinforcements, the city could never be starved out. They believed the Sultan’s bluff would be called and he would strike camp and depart, as so many besiegers had done before.
And from the Grand Masters came valiant words that there would be no craven surrender. Those who had taken the cross would honour their vows, stand at the breach against the hordes and never yield.