Notes to the chapter:
Shaytan - devil (Arabic).9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡem9lqVaXYN
Inshallah - "hopefully" or "if God wills" (Arabic).9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPA7qNfZOs2
Ashhadu alla ilaha illallah wa ashhadu anna Muhammadan rasulullah - "I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I also bear witness that Muhammad is His Prophet" (Arabic).9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyXsvVGKSsS
__
Anzhelika leaned her back against the wall, breathing heavily. Realizing where she was - and the seriousness of her predicament - hit her in full force. For a few seconds, she just sat there without a single coherent thought... until her comrades in misfortune began speaking again, and she listened eagerly.
“Kamal... Honorable Kamal... wake up. Please, wake up!”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCYXDEGRXkX
“Mmm... Whatever you wish, Hamid?” responded someone, apparently named Kamal.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAyd3TJH0tq
“Did Sultan Salah ad-Din mention he was going to storm Jaffa? And free us while he'll be here?” asked the person who had just roused him.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSLxzvZwOmt
“Not today, nor tomorrow,” answered Kamal calmly.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuWoTJj8U1J
"So, no hope for us", said a third voice mournfully.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbXCpRCkRf1
Yet another voice of elderly man replied sternly:9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY3732CCK9e
"It is said in Holy Quran: certainly, no one despairs of Allah’s mercy, except the people who disbelieve".9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnlgxRSgt6Q
"Let us pray, brothers", someone very young said loudly in a trembling voice.
Together, a multitude of other people made quite a big noise - there were many of them in the next cell, and maybe not in one and yet they felt like a single company. Anzhelika started to think it all over.
She had always admired noble Sultan Salah ad-Din, also known in the West as Saladin, ever since she was a teenager. He could fight exellently yet show mercy, and he was known to have dealt kindly with Orthodox Christians in the Middle East - unlike the Catholic crusaders. It was Salah ad-Din who inspired the girl to enroll in the faculty of Arabic Studies. Sadly, what she’d read about him was from a while ago, and she couldn’t quite recall the specifics of his military campaigns...
The girl resolutely rose to her feet. It was time to get out of here, and the neighbors were definitely a good company for this.
She gently opened the door and looked out into the corridor - indeed, there was no guard in sight. She could hear the voice reciting prayers somewhere to her right, so she headed that way. By the dim glow of a wall torch near the cell next door, a bit bigger in size than hers, she could see the bowed figures of those praying. There were about twenty of them.
Anzhelika inserted her lockpick into the lock and turned it. The prisoners straightened up and turned their gaze sharply towards her; the voice that had been reciting the prayer fell silent. In the dim light that reigned in the dungeons, her figure with long blond hair, suddenly appearing out of nowhere, seemed supernatural to the prisoners.
“Hi everyone,” said Anzhelika, opening the cell door.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYIadjjSDS8
“Who are you? An angel?!” someone's stunned voice was heard in the ensuing silence.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtm9B9DcQ1u
"No, I'm your neighbor from the next cell", the girl explained. "As I can understand, you’re not hoping for a fair trial either, are you?”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVZ1puY2IsL
"From this shaytans? Impossible!" some voices replied. "Thank you, noble stranger! Allah has heard our prayers!"
One by one the men rose to their feet; they were dressed in traditional Arab clothing and ranged in age from young to somewhat elderly.
"Thanks for your help", one of the prisoners - judging by his voice, it was that very Kamal - decisively walked out of the cell. He was about the same age as Anzhelika, dressed in a gray robe; short dark hair peeked out from under his gray turban. His dark eyes on his broad face looked sullen and concentrated. He took a torch from the wall and addressed his comrades: "Break out the boards, we'll need to deal with the guards at the door."
The prisoners began to smash the bunks with brisk abandon. Anzhelika walked back and forth along the corridor past the other empty cells - she had not yet had the pleasure of seeing the prison outside of her cell. Evidently, this was some kind of underground level: no windows, just a narrow spiral staircase leading upward.
"You are Kamal, did I hear right?" Anzhelika asked. He nodded. "I’m Anzhelika", the girl introduced herself and asked, nodding towards the exit: "How many people must there be?”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqyYSl1YSTE
"If we will be lucky, around ten or fifteen", Kamal responded.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk1ahytfUFg
"And if not?"9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEYKU6hfwym
"Then there may be more than twenty", Kamal answered, then in turn asked: "How did you get the key?"9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYXvrsj548B
“It’s not a key,” Anzhelika explained, showing him her makeshift pick. “I twisted my hairpin into it.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ33EUAUvwJR
Kamal raised an eyebrow in surprise.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQc4TSxQ9m7
"Thanks be to my cousin who taught me that,” the girl chuckled. “I’ll try to open the next lock with this thing.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGtheuCsDPf
Kamal nodded and added:9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡokrT9JyaLH
“Once it’s open, move away and let us handle the rest.”
The accomplices headed into the corridor, armed with boards. Kamal moved forward, lighting the way with a torch. Anzhelika, and everyone else after her, followed him.
“First I'll survey our surroundings,” Kamal said quietly, climbing the stairs. Approaching a door at the very top, he peered through a keyhole for a few moments, then glanced back and beckoned to Anzhelika. She came closer, holding her breath, and also looked in. The girl managed to see several people in white clothes with red crosses - they were sitting at a table and standing by the window in a well-lit room.
Anzhelika gestured for Kamal to shine the light for her and looked around the lock. "Seems simple," she thought, stuck the pick into the keyhole and turned it. The lock creaked while opening.
“Move away,” Kamal whispered, and the girl moved aside, pressing herself against the wall. Kamal turned around and waved his hand to his comrades frozen on the stairs. Then he kicked the door open, burst into the room and made a sharp movement somewhere to the side with the hand holding the torch. A muffled cry and the shouts of several people were heard. Anzhelika tried not to think about where that torch was thrusted in. The rest of the accomplices immediately rushed past her with boards at the ready.
For a few moments, Anzhelika stood on the stairs, mechanically clutching the master key in her hands and breathing heavily. The door almost slammed closed and she couldn't see what was happening; only the sound of frantic shouts, the dull clash of something - likely swords - and heavy thuds could be heard.
“Block the exit!” shouted someone apparently of her friends, followed by the sound of a loud crack.
Anzhelika opened the door slightly and carefully peeked out, to see a crusader with his back to her raise his sword from behind over one of her comrades. She sized up the situation and darted through the door, then kick the enemy under the knee. He staggered, and she sprang aside; and then an accomplice jumped out from the side, snatched the enemy’s sword and thrust it into his neck. Anzhelica barely managed to jump back when the body, splashing blood, fell at her feet. As though in a daze, she backed away, glancing around until she found herself standing on the threshold once more, holding on to the door, watching her comrades finished off the rest.
“That’s it,” muttered an older man in dark blue clothing, dropping his blood-smeared board onto the floor. Accomplices stood panting; some were holding boards in their hands, while others managed to get their hands on swords. The floor was strewn with the bodies of enemies and covered in blood; Anzhelika had never seen so much blood at once. One of the younger comrades took her by the elbow and said: “Thank you for saving us, sister,” then set her down on a bench at the overturned table, not yet drenched in blood. Sitting in a kind of stupor, the girl tried to breathe more slowly in order to calm down.
“There were more of these dogs than us,” someone spat.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV4GqHeGuoV
“Well, we pulled it off, brother!” someone responded joyfully. Their little group cheered.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgsEKfWB4Ys
"Quiet!" hissed one of the older men and asked: "Better watch the entrance! Is everyone okay?"9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk6jaa24lwL
"I... got slightly hit..." Kamal blurted out, holding his left hand and leaning against the windowsill. - But it's nothing... We need to change into their clothes... To get past the gates of Jaffa..."9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbk7sy1cA6V
“Hang in there, brother,” said a strong, very young lad, aproaching him. “Inshallah, it will be fine”.
He began to tear off the sleeve on Kamal's wounded arm. Some of the men began rummaging through the fallen enemies’ gear, others were checking closets for anything useful.
Anzhelika had already come to her senses a little. Slowly rising to her feet, going around her comrades and stepping over corpses, she approached Kamal and looked at his wound.
“It’s not that bad,” she assessed and said to the lad standing next to her: “Find a cleaner piece of fabric and give it to me.”9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuRmOZXnBb9
“Are you a healer?” Kamal asked hopefully.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvepNdBiJLA
“Yes,” said Anzhelika, and, in fact, she didn’t even lie. Her granny, whom she visited during the holidays, insisted that the girl study folk medicine. An elderly woman splendidly knew which herbs and roots help with what, and the whole village gladly went to her for treatment. She told Anzhelika: "You never know what you might need in life," to which the girl shrugged her shoulders and carelessly replied: "And what the devil would take me to a place with no aspirin around?.." But out of boredom caused by the poor internet service in the village, she devoted some of her idle attention to this activity and remembered some things.
After washing Kamal's wound with clean water, which she had found with difficulty in the room among the vessels of wine, Anzhelika carefully wrapped his hand with a strip of cloth torn from someone's shirt. Having carefully tied the knot on the bandage, the girl promised to look into the matter more thoroughly when they got to a calmer place.
“By the way, where are we going now?” asked a middle-aged bearded Arab while busily shaking the nearest corpse out of his chain mail. "In Ashkelon we could borrow some money for returning home…”
"Let's go a bit closer... to a village nearby..." Kamal said hoarsely. "I have friends there. They will give us shelter, and I... will send someone to the Sultan."
"Will they take in the whole company?" the very young beardless guy said incredulously.
Kamal nodded.
“Alright, that’s where we’ll go,” said one of the older men and began to pull on his chain mail. Having dealt with this, he took the white cape with the cross, turned it over in his hands, shook his head with displeasure, and began to put it on, saying: "Ashhadu alla ilaha illallah wa ashhadu anna Muhammadan rasulullah..."
The rest, changing into the enemy's military uniform, also repeated the shahada - a testimony of their faith. They pulled on closed helmets and fastened long straight swords to their belts.
Anzhelika was handed a set of armor with a cloak, and she slipped in the oversized for her crusader outfit, still wearing her jeans and T-shirt underneath. Holding an iron helmet in one hand, she walked through the room, peering into a small closets and a large ironbound chest.
“What are you looking for, sister?” asked one of her companions.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsiaunMbuXy
“A bow, perhaps,” Anzhelika answered. The questioner whistled.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqc80Gz8Qlh
“I found a crossbow with bolts,” said a young, beardless lad, emerging from a storeroom and handing her his find.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsfk9NzqWWz
“That’ll do, thanks,” Anzhelika said as she turned the crossbow over in her hands. She dealt with crossbows much less often, but overall the design was understandable. She slung the quiver of bolts over her back.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ93qZYtol8w
“Time to move,” Kamal commanded. Anzhelika slipped on the iron helmet and winced at its narrow visor in shock - seeing the world through a motorcycle helmet was a lot easier than through a slit meant for war.
Their group filed cautiously out of the prison, scanning their surroundings. However, they were lucky - no one was on the night street. Anzhelika inhaled the fresh night air. Even through the helmet, she noticed the distinct difference between the stuffy air of the prison, heavy with the smell of blood, and the outside breeze. It was extremely dark, with only scattered torches here and there - far from the comforts of electric light. The helmet did not add any visibility points either.
“Where’s the stable?” someone asked.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOChvPSTH7m
“Seems to be on the right,” came the response.
The companions headed right, and sure enough, they found a stable with several dozen horses of various colors. Anzhelika silently thanked the heavens that she had once taken riding lessons. The escapees quickly spread out, each picking a horse. One of them readied a calm mount for Anzhelika, helped her into the saddle, and she patted the animal’s neck, taking hold of the reins with her hands in uncomfortable gloves.
At last, the entire company rode onto the dark, narrow streets of Jaffa heading toward the gates. Kamal knew the route well and led them along the shortest path. Along the way, they saw only a few Arabs who, on spotting them, quickly disappeared down alleyways.
The gate guards let through the squad of people dressed as crusaders without a question. But it was only after they had ridden at least a few hundred meters away that Anzhelika exhaled in relief.
"Where should we go to get to the right village, honorable Kamal?" asked one of the senior men in the group.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLyYtCZD03j
"We'll go straight ahead... to the turnoff to Jerusalem", he responded. "From the turnoff it's less than an hour's ride."
The horses' hooves pounded rhythmically under the star-strewn sky. The night had exhausted everyone, and no one felt like chatting. Anzhelika let her tired mind race with fragments of thought - about the home she’d left behind, seemingly forever, about the unfamiliar new world she’d landed in, and about everything she’d need to do to save Kamal... Among them, like a flash, a thought suddenly appeared: “Will I be able to see Salah ad-Din?..”
The brightest star winked slyly at her from the sky.
ns216.73.216.239da2
