Trail of Fate

by Michael P. Spradlin

  That did it.

  “What is the meaning of this?” I shouted.

  Both men were so startled that they jumped, releasing their grip on the father, who slowly keeled over in the dirt. They looked at me and drew their swords.

  “Qui êtes-vous?” the one closest to me shouted. I was fairly certain he was asking me who I was. Curse my poor French!

  “What are you doing to these people?” I asked in English. Both men stared at me in confusion.

  The first man spoke quickly, and it was hard for me to follow. But from what I could understand, they were going to execute the man.

  I had no idea what else to say or how to communicate with them. So I ordered them to let the man and family go free. “Leave these people alone,” I commanded.

  He spoke rapidly again. I couldn’t understand everything, but I heard the word Cathar and he pointed to the family. They must be some of Celia’s people.

  “I demand you release him,” I said, trying to put as much menace in my voice as I could.

  The two men looked at each other, then back at me, and burst out laughing.

  “Non,” they said. They must have understood some of what I’d said. Or like Celia and her party, they did speak English, but chose not to reveal it. Was everyone in this cursed country so deceitful when it came to language?

  “In the name of the Knights Templar I demand you step aside,” I said, rising up slightly on the balls of my feet, ready to move.

  They did not answer but started for me. I retreated slowly, trying to draw them away from the family. Maryam emerged from between two buildings on the other side of the square, and silently moved toward the family.

  When I had drawn the men past the first hut, I stopped and let them close in on me, all the while keeping Maryam in my peripheral vision. She had reached the people now, and with her dagger, quickly cut the man’s bonds and tried to rouse him. She needed more time.

  The men had smiles on their faces as they approached. They had the advantage in numbers, skill and experience. I had only my sword and my righteous indignation.

  “Tell me,” I said. “Do you enjoy beating up small children?”

  The men just kept coming forward, but they were cautious now. They saw the short blade in my hand and Sir Thomas’ weapon laced across my back and would not be easily duped. Maryam had managed to pull the woman to her feet, and together they were lifting up the husband. She carried the unconscious boy under one arm, and the little girl followed along as they headed toward the woods.

  And then my plan fell apart.

  The soldier closest to me caught me looking behind him and looked back to find Maryam leading the family away. He cursed and his companion immediately took off toward them.

  “Maryam! Look out!” I shouted.

  She looked back to see the soldier closing fast.

  Maryam handed the boy to the mother, pushed her and the girl toward the woods and lowered the unconscious father to the ground. As the soldier approached, she ululated in her horrible Hashshashin war cry and drew her daggers, waiting for his charge as he came at her, sword high.

  The other soldier raised his sword and charged me. I quickly darted between the buildings and raced around the far corner, with him fast behind me. I wanted him to chase me, for I was afraid if I stood and fought, he could easily defeat me before the woman and her children could hide. I ran quickly around the building and tried to circle back on him. I’d temporarily lost sight of him and paused at the next corner, my back to the wall, trying to hear over Maryam’s shouts.

  I waited. Five seconds. Ten. Then a shadow fell across the ground, coming slowly toward the corner. When it was close enough, I jumped out, swinging with all my might.

  But he was expecting it and ducked my swing. My blade glanced off the timber of the hut. He thrust back at me, and I barely pulled my sword back in time to block his stroke.

  We traded blow upon blow, both of us swinging desperately. He tried to push me back against the wall of the hut, but I refused to give ground. Then he swung at me with an overhead strike, and as I raised my sword up to block his blade, he slashed me across the forearm. I gasped in pain, and staggered backward. He raised his weapon again and came at me. I launched myself at him before he could bring the blade down and hit him squarely in the chest with my shoulder. He stumbled backward, giving me time to switch hands.

  My arm burned and I was angry now. I tried to remain cool, but images of Philippe and the small boy being treated like an animal clouded my vision. Swinging wildly, I gave him no chance to mount an offensive, but he was calm and parried each attack.

  Rage was not gaining me anything; he was too good. I needed a deception, trickery of some sort. I also had to stop the bleeding in my arm. Where was the power of the Grail when I needed it? It remained silent, nestled in the bottom of the satchel hanging across my back.

  I moved out from the wall to my right, keeping him at bay with my sword. Then I stepped in as close as I could get to the corner of the hut. I took a wild swing at him to draw him in, and as I hoped, he reared back to bring his sword around in a mighty arc. Instead of blocking it this time, I ducked and the blade whistled over my head. When the sword hit the corner of the hut, it bit into the soft timber and was stuck there. His eyes went wide as he yanked desperately to free his blade. Not giving him the chance, I ducked under his arm and rose up, driving the hilt of my sword as hard as I could into the side of his head. It connected with a solid thump and the man’s eyes rolled up in his head. He slumped to the ground unconscious.

  Breathing hard, I worked his sword free from the side of the hut and tossed it as far as I could into the woods. I searched him quickly, removed a dagger from his belt and threw it away as well.

  Racing back to where I’d last seen Maryam, I came around the side of the building and found her sprawled on the ground. She had lost her daggers and rolled over, crawling on her hands and knees, desperately trying to reach them. The soldier closed in on her, his sword raised. She was helpless and about to die unless I could reach her in time.

  But I didn’t have to, for an arrow suddenly appeared in the center of the soldier’s chest. He looked down in shock at the instrument of his death, and then tumbled backward to the dirt.

  I spun around to see Robard standing there. Maryam looked up from the ground in wonder.

  “Robard?” she said, her face breaking into a wide smile.

  “Hello, Assassin,” he said, grinning. “Did you miss me?”

  13

  My mouth hung open as if I’d been struck dumb. He smiled and gave us a jaunty little salute. A black-clad blur rushed past me, and Maryam took Robard in a fierce embrace. Momentarily startled by the force of her attention, he held his arms out gingerly to the side while she wrapped hers around his back.

  “You came back,” she said, unable to keep the joy from her voice.

  “I did. Um. Maryam?” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, looking up at him but still not releasing her hold.

  “I can’t breathe,” he said.

  She laughed and buried her head in his chest, hugging him tighter.

  “Assassin?” he coughed. “I’m serious. Can’t breathe.”

  She let go of him then and stepped back, her face aglow. “You’re really here. You came back,” she said.

  “Yes, I came back. The two of you wouldn’t likely make your way back to England without me.”

  “Couldn’t find a ship in Perpignan?” I asked.

  “Not a one!” He laughed. “No. In truth, I followed the High Counsel and his troops toward Perpignan and had the chance to see some of their work up close. The afternoon after they left us on the beach, they burned a village to the ground. Dragged all the people out of their homes and shops and torched it completely. Even their church. I could only watch from the woods. I don’t know what he said to those people, but I’ve heard men like him before. He enjoyed terrifying them. He delighted in burning them out of their homes.”

/>   I nodded, understanding exactly what he was saying.

  Robard shrugged.

  “When they didn’t find Celia in Perpignan, they headed back this way. I knew you had headed in the same direction and decided if you were going to tangle with this High Counsel fellow, you were going to need some help.”

  I smiled. Robard had a conscience after all. His bravery had never been in doubt, but I was deeply touched by his compassion.

  Maryam still stared at Robard, gripping his arms. Robard smiled at her.

  “Maryam?” he asked.

  “Hmm. Yes?” she replied.

  “May I have my arms back?”

  She finally released him. “You came back,” she said, as if she had just woken from a dream.

  “Yes, I did. Now we have work,” he said gently.

  As happy as we were to see Robard, Angel was happiest of all. She burst out of the woods where she had been guarding the mother and the two children and raced to Robard’s side, jumping and barking happily at him. He laughed and scooped her up in his arms.

  “I guess I just couldn’t leave you behind, girl,” he joked. He put her down and she raced around us madly, turning back and forth and barking.

  The woman and her children emerged from the woods and rushed to the side of the father, who still lay where Maryam had left him.

  “Maryam, maybe you should assist them while Robard and I attend to these soldiers,” I said quietly.

  She nodded and with a last glance at Robard, trotted to the side of the woman. Angel loped after Maryam, and Robard stared after them.

  “What happened to the big Frenchman I had the fight with?” he asked.

  “Philippe! You found him?”

  “Yes.”

  “He encountered a squad of the High Counsel’s men. There was a fight and he killed four of them, but he died from his wounds.”

  “Killed four? By himself?” Robard said, incredulous.

  I nodded.

  “Tough man, that Frank,” he added, impressed.

  “Yes, he was.”

  “I guess it’s lucky I got here in time to be of use.”

  “Yes. But how did you find us?”

  “You were easy enough to follow. Your boots leave a distinctive track. And I knew you were headed north. So I just followed the main trail. Don’t forget, I lived my whole life in a forest. I know how to track people.”

  “Have you seen anyone else about? Any of the High Counsel’s men? Any Templar regimentos?”

  “No. Since I left the spot where you camped last night, I’ve seen no one.”

  “We don’t have much time to waste. Can you help me hide these men in the woods? I don’t want them to be easily discovered if the High Counsel sends someone looking for them.”

  Robard nodded and we walked to the spot where I had left the man between the buildings.

  Only he was no longer there. Robard pulled another arrow from his wallet and nocked it immediately. We peered around the corner of the hut, but the man was nowhere to be found.

  “This is not good,” I muttered.

  “No, it’s not,” Robard agreed. “We need to get moving. If he has friends nearby . . .”

  We quickly trotted to the center of the village.

  The man who had been beaten by the two soldiers was coming around. Maryam held a water skin to his lips and his wife dabbed at the cuts on his face with a damp cloth. The young girl and boy stood off to the side, the boy holding his small hand to his face where an ugly purplish bruise was forming around his eye. My breath caught as I thought of the little one’s brave attempt to defend his father.

  “Is he going to be all right?” Robard asked.

  “I think he’ll survive. He has some broken ribs, but those are the worst of his injuries,” Maryam said. She looked up at my bleeding arm and with her dagger cut a small piece of cloth from the hem of my tunic. Covering the wound, which was not serious, she tied it tightly.

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  Robard stepped to the dead soldier and inspected his handiwork. With his small knife, he cut the coin pouch from the soldier’s belt.

  He knelt beside the woman, who still held her husband, and offered it to her.

  “Madame, s’il vous plaît?” he said, motioning for her to take the purse.

  She looked confused and afraid. Robard lifted up her hand and placed the coins in it, closing his hand over it. He kept his hand there, nodding and smiling until the woman understood.

  “Merci,” she said. “Merci.” Then she started crying, which made Robard very uncomfortable. He stood up quickly and busied himself inspecting the body of the fallen soldier. With little effort, he lifted the man up and threw him over his shoulder. I had forgotten how strong he was.

  “Robard, what—” Maryam stammered, but he interrupted her.

  “The High Counsel is rich. She is very poor, from the looks of it. This soldier clearly has no further use for the money. I fought for my king and country. For my father. But I despise men like this High Counsel. If I could, I would take every crosslet he had, every shilling, every bit of gold, and I would find the poorest people around and make him watch while they danced away with his wealth.” Robard’s face was filled with raw emotion. I had heard him say many similar things in Outremer as we walked along in the night. Now I had witnessed his principles up close, and it made me smile. Maryam was not the only one glad to have him back.

  “Shall we?” he asked, nodding toward the north.

  He started down the trail, carrying the dead man over his shoulder. Maryam and I followed behind and Angel raced ahead of us, running back and forth along the trail. When we were well out of the settlement, Robard disappeared in the woods and returned moments later without the dead soldier.

  We walked on in silence, but there was a noticeable change in Maryam’s demeanor. Her step was lighter and she floated along the trail. Robard didn’t see it, as he was intent on getting to where we were going.

  The trail took us higher and higher, and at last we cleared the woods along the rim of a long valley. And across the valley on a mountaintop sat a small fortress at the very tip of a high peak. It had to be the place.

  Montségur.

  MONTSÉGUR

  LATE OCTOBER 1191

  14

  I wanted to push on, but Robard convinced me we should stop and rest for the night. The minute he suggested it I felt exhaustion overtake me and we found another copse of trees and bedded down for the night. We were up at first light and as we crossed the valley floor, we saw further evidence that the High Counsel and his men had been visiting. Several dwellings were destroyed, livestock had been killed, and the area was devoid of people. Celia had said Cathars often fled to the fortress when they were besieged, and I hoped they had found safety behind Montségur’s walls before the High Counsel arrived.

  “So, Templar, how do you plan on getting inside the castle?” Robard asked.

  “I was just thinking the same thing!” Maryam blurted, smiling at him. Ever since he had rejoined us, she rarely took her eyes off him.

  We had finally reached the base of the mountain after several hours of hiking over rough terrain. The fortress sat atop a tooth-shaped peak, and although the bottom was covered by trees, the summit was barren of most vegetation. It was rocky and lined with boulders and would be a difficult climb, even without the High Counsel and his men in the way.

  From our vantage point, there was only one passable trail to the top, which is probably what made it such a strategic spot for a fortress. It would take an army of any size hours, if not days, to move into position to even launch an assault. It was amazing how a structure of its size could ever be built in such a place.

  “Tristan?” Robard asked.

  “Huh?” I replied, drawing my attention away from my study of the castle.

  “The fortress? Any idea how we’ll get inside?”

  “None spring immediately to mind,” I tried, but I failed to keep the resignation out of my
voice.

  “If Celia is inside there, she’s probably safe. We can always just go around and keep moving north toward home,” Robard said.

  I shook my head.

  “Oh no, we can’t,” Maryam said with more than a trace of disgust in her voice. “He made a promise to the Frenchman.”

  “Which Frenchman?” Robard asked.

  “Philippe. The dead one.” She smirked.

  “What? A promise? What kind of promise?” Robard asked. I thought he would be angry, but he looked at me with curiosity.

  “Keep in mind . . . he was dying. I may have . . . possibly sworn an oath to him I would help her, is all,” I stammered.

  “Help her how?” Robard asked.

  “With her troubles with this High Counsel fellow,” I said.

  “What? Are you out of your mind? Did you not see the heavily armed men he rode with? You intend to help Celia and her merry band of peasants stand against that?” Now he was angry.

  “Yes . . . I guess,” I said. “It was an oath!”

  Robard let out an exasperated sigh. “You are smitten with this girl!”

  “What? No . . . of course not. I don’t . . . she . . . I barely know her!” I said, embarrassed.

  “That’s right!” Maryam piped up. “He only just met her, when she tried to stab him!”

  “She didn’t try to stab . . . Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Maryam and Robard were smiling at each other while I squirmed in discomfort. So I stormed off through the woods and found a spot where the trees cleared a little and I had a better view of the mountaintop. Smitten, indeed. What rubbish. And besides, I’d seen the way Maryam and Robard had been looking at each other since his return. They were ones to make sport of me!

  I simmered in my embarrassment for a while, studying the fortress and the grounds around it, trying to focus my mind on the problem at hand. I was certain Celia was inside. However, I had no idea how to get us inside or even how to get word to her.

  A few minutes later Robard joined me, and he studied the terrain surrounding Montségur.

  “I find it hard to believe they can have enough men and supplies to survive a long siege,” he said.