Outcasts

by Martin Lake

  The company dismounted from their horses and approached.

  'Don't be scared,' Bernard cried in Arabic. 'We will not harm you.'

  The young man looked at them warily. 'Niphin?' he asked.

  Bernard shook his head. 'We are from Jerusalem.'

  The wailing calmed.

  'My net is all I own,' said the young man. 'Please don't take it from me.'

  'We have no desire for your net,' said Bernard. 'Do not worry.'

  'Ask him if he has any fish?' Jurgen asked.

  But before Bernard could translate, the young man gave a shrill laugh.

  'I have no fish,' he said in clumsy French. 'My boat was stolen from me so I now can only fish close to land, as far as I can throw my net. There are few fish so close to shore.'

  'Who stole it?'

  'Who do you think? The Baron of Niphin, of course. He takes everything. He is squeezing us to death.'

  'I am sorry,' Bernard answered.

  Suddenly, one of the old men began to keen loudly. His head shook violently and he pointed back towards the village.

  A solitary horseman came trotting down the road towards them. He was in full armour, armed with sword and mace. He held a spear in front of him and as he got closer they could see that Laurence's purse was skewered upon it.

  'Baron Raymond,' cried the young fisherman. He leapt to his feet and fled.

  The horseman spurred his horse and charged towards them. They had no time to mount their own horses. Laurence drew out his sword and stood in the path of the Baron. It was courageous but suicidal. Raymond lowered his spear, aiming at Laurence's heart.

  The others were all rooted to the ground.

  An idea flashed into Bernard's head. 'Seize hold of the net,' he cried. His voice held such a tone of command that John hurried to do his bidding.

  Bernard plucked up the other end and began to run towards the charging horse. He held one end of the net at shoulder height and gestured John to do the same.

  Matthew saw what they were doing and leapt ahead, shouldering Laurence out of the way just in time. The horse thundered past, straight into the net.

  The impact was so fierce that the net was torn from their hands. The horse reared, neighing in terror. Its hooves were caught fast in the net and it crashed to the ground, sending its rider rolling into the three old men.

  Matthew was up in an instant and leapt upon Raymond. Despite his fall the knight turned quick as an eel, reaching out for his dagger as he did so. He plunged down with the blade but Matthew caught his arm and began to bend it back. The man cried out in pain and the dagger fell to the ground. Laurence reached the struggling men and placed the tip of his sword upon the man's neck.

  'One thrust and you're dead,' he cried.

  The man went limp. 'Mercy,' he cried, 'mercy.'

  Laurence dragged the war-helmet off of the man, revealing the yellow, skull-like head of Baron Raymond of Niphin.

  'Mercy,' Laurence said. 'It's a marvel that you know the meaning of the word.'

  Within minutes the whole of the village had descended upon them. They watched in jubilation as Jurgen stripped Raymond to his underclothes. They were of the finest silk.

  'I'll have those as well,' said Matthew, tearing off the clothes to leave him completely naked. A loud cry of scorn came from the village.

  'How dare you,' yelled Raymond.

  Matthew plucked up the dagger from the ground and pressed it to his throat. 'The Mule dare do anything to the man who robbed me of everything.'

  Raymond's eyes widened. 'You are the Mule.'

  'Matthew nodded. 'Yes. And you are the bastard who stole all of the gold which King Baldwin gave to me for bearing him.'

  Raymond laughed. His amusement at what he had done was even stronger than his fear. Matthew pressed the dagger hard, causing a pool of blood to seep out from his throat.

  'Mercy,' Raymond said again. 'I am sorry for that. Come with me to my castle and I will recompense you five-fold.'

  'Oh no,' said Matthew. 'We will come to your castle. But you will recompense me a hundred-fold and the same for these poor villagers.'

  Matthew held up the under-clothes and threw them to the villagers. 'That will fetch a good price in Tripoli,' he murmured. 'Part recompense at least.'

  'But we will keep his weapons and armour,' said Laurence.

  The village cheered them on their way as the company trotted north once more. Baron Raymond was bound at the wrists and the cord looped around Jurgen's saddle.

  'What made you think of using the net?' John asked Bernard when they were a little down the road.

  'My friend Alexius,' Bernard answered. 'The Greek moneylender. He used to tell us tales of how his ancestors watched men fight in the arena for the pleasure of the crowd. He claimed that a man with a short sword was often pitched against a man with a trident and fishing net. He would throw the net upon the swordsman and try to bring him down. I never believed the story, to be honest. But it came back to my mind just in time.'

  'Thank God that it did.'

  They rode at a good pace for a mile or so. Even when Raymond slipped, Jurgen refused to slow, dragging him in the dust until he somehow managed to stagger to his feet.

  When they stopped at last the Baron was covered with dust except where steaks of blood seeped through.

  'I will get my revenge,' he snarled up at them.

  'Don't be so sure,' Matthew answered.

  The Baron laughed. 'I am sure. That is my castle.' He gurgled with delight. 'And here come my men to deal with you.'

  They turned and saw thirty horsemen galloping out of the castle and turning towards them.

  'Thirty,' Oliver murmured nervously.

  'We have the whip hand,' said Laurence. He climbed from his horse and approached the Baron.

  Raymond turned venomous eyes upon him. Laurence smiled and brought out his dagger. 'Grab his hair, Matthew,' he said.

  Matthew needed no second bidding. He leapt from his horse and grabbed Raymond by the hair, jerking his head back savagely to reveal his neck. Laurence placed the blade against it and turned to watch the approaching men.

  The leader of the band caught sight of what was happening and signalled his men to halt.

  'Stop there,' Laurence called, 'and he will come to no harm.'

  The man lifted up the visor of his helmet and took in the situation. 'What do you want?' he asked.

  'Money,' said Laurence. 'A thousand dinars.'

  'What?' cried the man.

  'Isn't your Baron worth that?' sneered Matthew.

  'And that's not all,' continued Laurence. 'We want five sets of weapons: swords, knives, and spears. And five sets of chain-mail.'

  'You ask for a lot.'

  'We offer you your leader's life.'

  Matthew bent Raymond's neck back even further. They all heard a sharp crack.

  'Give it to them,' cried Raymond. 'Give them all they ask for.'

  'And food,' said Jurgen. 'We want food and wine.'

  One of the horsemen from the rear cocked his head and urged his horse forward. 'Is that Jurgen?' he called. He took of his helmet.

  'Ralph Fishmonger,' cried Jurgen. 'What are you doing here?'

  'It's a long story,' Ralph answered.

  A dozen more men pushed forward towards them.

  'Oliver's here as well,' Jurgen cried, 'and Bernard Montjoy and the mad young Englishman.'

  'Who in heaven are these?' Matthew asked.

  'Our fellow knights,' John answered. 'Some of the men Balian knighted at the siege.'

  Laurence pushed the blade deeper into Raymond's neck. 'Enough of this chatter,' he said. 'You've heard what we want. Now go and get it.'

  The leader of the band ordered half a dozen men to go back to the castle. The rest he ordered to dismount. He never took his eyes off of Laurence, waiting for him to relax his guard.

  'Don't try anything,' Laurence said. 'Or he's a dead man.'

  They waited in silence for a few minutes longer, watc
hing until the knights had entered the castle.

  Bernard walked over to Ralph Fishmonger. 'So what are you doing here?' he asked. 'Why are you with this crew of cut-purses?'

  'They're the only ones who would take us,' Ralph answered. 'We offered our services to the Templars and the Hospitallers but they laughed in our faces. The same with Conrad of Tyre. Only Raymond of Niphin would accept us for what we were.'

  'But at what cost?'

  Ralph looked at the ground and did not answer.

  'We get paid,' said another man. 'Paid well. That's all that matters.'

  'I'm sorry to hear you say that, Etienne,' Bernard said. 'But it doesn't have to be that way.'

  'What other way could it be?'

  'You could join with us.' Bernard looked around at the others to see if they were in agreement. They nodded their heads.

  'They are sworn to the Baron's service,' said the leader of their band.

  'Such a promise is worthless,' said Bernard. 'They are sworn already, to Balian.'

  'And Bernard is the most senior knight here,' said John. 'So really they are bound to follow him.'

  The dozen men from Jerusalem looked at each other in consternation. They drew apart and began to talk amongst themselves.

  A little later the knights who had been sent back to the castle returned leading a cart with all that Laurence had asked for.

  The friends slipped on the armour and weapons, Oliver took charge of the money and Jurgen of the food.

  'Thank you, my friends,' said Laurence. 'Keep hold of him, Matthew,' he said, before mounting his horse. He gestured quickly and Matthew heaved Raymond over Laurence's saddle.

  'We had a bargain,' cried the leader of the knights.

  Laurence pressed the dagger against the back of Raymond's neck. 'You don't think we'd be stupid enough to trust you, do you? We will release your Baron to Bohemond's son at Tripoli. I don't much like the idea of having wolves like you on our heels.'

  He lent forward in his saddle. 'If we see any sign of you following us then Raymond will never reach Tripoli.'

  He gestured to his friends to mount up.

  'What about you, my friends?' said Bernard. 'Will you join us?'

  Eight of the men from Jerusalem shook their heads but four climbed on their horses and joined them.

  'Let's go,' Bernard cried.

  They headed north on the road to Tripoli.

  After a mile they glanced back. The Baron's men were still waiting by the road. A furlong after the road took a turn to the east and they were lost to sight. Laurence led them for a little while longer than abruptly took a turn up a path to the right.

  'This isn't the way to Tripoli,' yelled Raymond.

  'Who said we were going to Tripoli?' said Laurence.

  'You did.'

  'I beg pardon. I made a mistake.'

  'Then where are we going?'

  'To Damascus,' Bernard answered. 'And if need be to Baghdad.'

  CHARACTERS IN OUTCASTS

  Historical figures are in bold

  John Ferrier

  Simon Ferrier

  Bernard Montjoy, owner of the Inn

  Agnes Montjoy, his wife

  Gerard, son of Bernard Montjoy

  Claude-Yusuf, son of Robert and Farah

  Eleanor, their daughter

  Matthew of Jerusalem. The Mule

  Alexius Kamateros, a Greek moneylender, friend of Bernard and Agnes

  Guy of Lusignan, King of Jerusalem

  Raymond, the old Count of Tripoli

  Balian of Ibelin, noble of Jerusalem

  Jerome Sospel, comrade and friend of Balian

  Archbishop Eraclius, Patriarch of Jerusalem

  Saladin, Sultan and conqueror of Jerusalem

  Al-Adil, Saladin's brother and lieutenant

  Herald of Saladin

  William Esson, one of Balian's sergeants

  Oliver of Provence, one of Bernard's friends, knighted by Balian

  Jurgen of Saxony, Oliver's friend, also knighted

  Yacob, Claude-Yusuf's grand-father

  Terricus, Grand Preceptor of Jerusalem and Acting Grand Master of the Knights of the Temple

  William Borrel, acting Head of the Hospitallers

  Pasque de Riveri, Eraclius’ mistress and mother to their child, Constance

  Walter, Eraclius' Deacon

  Peter, a wine-maker from Tours

  Khalid, an Emir in Saladin's army

  Issam, a Muslim doctor in Khalid's troop

  Habib, factotum of the Caliph

  Dawud, Habib's friend

  Al-Adfal, Saladin's elder son

  Uthman, Saladin's younger son

  William, the Marquis of Montferrat

  Conrad of Montferrat, defender of Tyre

  Raymond, robber Baron of Niphin

  Raymond, eldest son of Bohemond, the new Count of Tripoli

  Ermoul, Balian's squire

  Bohemond the younger, second son of the Prince of Tyr

  Armengol, Proviser of the Knights Hospitallers

  Bohemond, Prince of Antioch

  Cybil, Princess of Antioch, Bohemond's wife

  Caliph al-Nasir, Spiritual Head of the Muslim world and ruler of Baghdad

  Johara, one of the Caliph's wives.

  Lalina, one of the Caliph's harem.

  Beatrice, the Caliph's new favourite

  Gabriella, the young prostitute, Simon's lover

  Gregory, one of Simon's guards

  William, another of his guards

  Theo, the torch-boy

  Al-Dahir, son of Caliph al-Nasir

  Sheik al-Djabbar, head of the Caliph's futuwwa

  Bahir, his friend and lieutenant

  Gerard de Ridefort, Grand Master of the Templars

  Emir Walid, one of Saladin's commanders

  Laurence of Tyre, an officer of the city

  Gilbert Vallon, an arrogant noble from Tyre

  Sir Henry Colville, a Knight of Tyre, a friend of Gilbert Vallon

  Suhail, one of the boys in the futuwwa

  THANKS

  Thanks to Janine Smith for her advice and skill in editing the novel.

  Also to Dr Stephen Carter, Nick Britten, Kevin Scott Day and Rembrandt Ten Hove for their help, advice and support.

  Thank you for buying Outcasts. I hope that you enjoyed it.

  The recommendations and comments of readers make all the difference to the success of a book. I would be very grateful if you could spread the word about the book amongst your friends. It would also be a great help if you could spend a few moments writing a review and posting it on Amazon, Goodreads or any other forum you are active in.

  To post a review please click here: myBook.to/Outcasts

  BOOKS BY MARTIN LAKE

  viewAuthor.at/MartinLake

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