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and the light streaming in illuminated men of every race, all naked but for their thin wraps. John had cleaned himself well enough and was just about to climb out when an enormous Saracen servant approached, grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip, and proceeded to scrub him fiercely all  over with a long-handled brush. Rabbit was given even worse treatment by a severe old man who grabbed him by the shoulders and repeatedly dunked him under the water.
    Their skin raw, John and Rabbit were ushered to the pool of cold water and shoved in. Gasping and shaking from the cold, they were finally allowed to leave. They had retreated to the changing room, where they found that their clothes had been washed in their absence. They practically ran as they left the building. John had to admit, though, that his scalp no longer itched and his hands were whiter than they had been in months. Perhaps the custom was not completely barbaric, after all.
    ‘’Sblood,’ John cursed as he and Rabbit emerged from the dark alleyway. The market stalls were closing up in advance of the midday heat, and the crowd had mostly gone. Beyond the stalls, the ship they had arrived on was already being loaded with new cargo: large barrels that the sailors were rolling up the gangway. Between the market and ship there was only empty ground. The men of their company were gone.
    ‘You, sailor!’ John shouted to one of the men loading theship. ‘Where did our men go?’ The sailor shrugged and pointed off down the dock, away from the citadel. John scanned the harbour, but there was no sign of the men. ‘Damn!’ he cursed, dropping the waterskins.
    ‘We should look for them,’ Rabbit suggested.
    ‘Where? In there?’ John gestured to the city. ‘We have no idea which direction they went. We’d only get lost.’
    Rabbit’s nose twitched. ‘I’m just trying to help.’
    John sighed. ‘You’re right, Rabbit. Maybe the glass seller knows where they went.’ John shouldered the waterskins and headed towards the Jewish merchant, who was shutting up his stall. ‘Thank you, sir. We found the water.’ John pointed to the skins, and the Jew smiled in acknowledgement. ‘The men who were there,’ John continued, pointing to where the company had been sitting. ‘Do you know where they went?’
    The Jew shrugged. ‘No, I am sorry.’ He picked up a string of glass beads and held it out to them. ‘Would you like to buy something? A present for a lady?’
    ‘No, thank you.’ John turned away to see a knight watching them from horseback. The man wore a black surcoat emblazoned with the distinctive white Hospitaller cross, composed of what looked like four arrowheads, all touching at the tips.
    ‘Looking for something?’ the knight asked.
    ‘We are Reynald de Chatillon’s men,’ John explained. ‘We are looking for the rest of our company.’
    The Hospitaller’s eyebrows arched. ‘Reynald’s men, eh?’ He paused and then pointed along the dockside. ‘The rest of your company went that way. They are setting up camp outside the city, just past the harbour gate.’
    ‘Thank you, sir.’ The knight nodded and rode on.
    John and Rabbit marched along the long harbour, passing tall-masted ships to their right and squat buildings on their left. By the time they finally reached Acre’s wall, John’s shoulders were burning from the leather straps of the waterskins. The end of the wall was marked by a massive, square gate-tower, whichrose up from the coastline. They passed through the gate into a flat, empty space, and then through a second, outer wall. The men were setting up their tents in its shade.
    ‘Where have you been?’ Ernaut demanded as John and Rabbit trudged over to the camp and dropped the skins. He unstopped his skin and took a long drink, eyes narrowing as he examined John and Rabbit more closely. ‘And what happened to you? You look like two pigs scrubbed up for market.’
    John could feel his face reddening. ‘Nothing. It took us a while