Trail of Fate

by Michael P. Spradlin

  The ram thundered against the door again. The door still held. Shouting out orders to the men, we lifted the kettle onto the top of the wall right above the main gate.

  “Wait until they roll it forward again!” I shouted over the din.

  Down below, we watched as the men pushing the ram backed up, then came forward slowly, then came faster as they strained toward the door. When the iron point was a few feet from the door, I gave the command: “Loose!” I shouted, and the kettle was tipped forward and the hot grease went splashing down on the ram. Some of it splashed over the wooden shielding and onto the men nearby, who screamed and ran away. Carefully measuring the distance, I tossed the torch, which landed on the topmost wooden shield.

  At first nothing happened. Then with a loud whoosh, the grease caught and the forward-most part of the ram burst into flames. Several of the men hiding under the shielding lost their nerve at the sight of the fire and ran from their cover.

  “Now!” shouted Robard, and the crossbowmen mowed the running men down like wheat before a scythe. Their screams and cries rose up to us in the darkness.

  “Get the next kettle ready!” I shouted. “They’ll regroup and the ram will be back!”

  As I feared, the wood on the shield covering the battering ram had been coated in mud. As the flames died, I could hear orders being shouted and see men moving toward the ram as it was reinforced.

  The attacks came on through the night, but we managed to hold them off until daybreak. The ram was burned and scorched but still operable, and Celia had informed me we’d soon run out of barrels of lard. As the sun poked over the horizon, the fighting halted as the men on the field rested before their next assault.

  The four of us met on the wall to take stock of the situation. Far off, near the tree line, I could see Sir Hugh on horseback, watching and directing the activity on the field.

  “He won’t give up as long as I’m here,” I said.

  My friends said nothing.

  “Celia, can you spare us some ropes?” She didn’t look at me for a long time, but simply stared out at the forces arrayed against her. Finally she nodded.

  “Oh no. Tristan, I saved you from bandits, you went through a shipwreck and a siege, and now you have a wish to plummet to your death? No wonder the monks who raised you only let you work the garden! If you’d done anything else, I’m sure you would have found a thousand ways to injure yourself and others!” Robard blurted.

  I ignored Robard’s jibe. “I think it’s time for us to leave,” I said.

  23

  Light from the east fluttered into the valley surrounding us. The Templars outside the gates were now silent, but I knew another attack would commence before long. I stood at the rear wall of Montségur with Maryam, Celia and Robard. Angel moved nervously around my feet. Staring down the sheer rock wall, my stomach tightened and I wanted to reconsider my plan. But I couldn’t waver. I looked at the crossbowmen on the battlement opposite where we stood. They all sat slumped with their backs to the wall, resting and waiting to fight again. Sir Hugh would starve us out if necessary. I needed to get him to chase me instead so Celia’s people could return to their homes. But then, as I stood looking down the cliff face, my head swimming, I thought that a few more weeks bottled up inside a fortress might not be so bad.

  “Tristan, are you sure this is the only way?” Celia asked.

  “Yes,” I said quietly.

  “Ha!” said Robard to no one in particular. For approximately the twelfth time, he was checking and rechecking the rope we had looped around a parapet and lowered over the side.

  “Of course he’s sure,” Maryam chimed in. “He has a plan.” Maryam was not in love with the idea of climbing down the side of the mountain by rope either.

  It was easy to ignore barbs, busy as I was trying to memorize Celia’s face. Her eyes were tired, but they still drew me in. I hated to leave Montségur. To leave her.

  Taking her hand, I gave her a small piece of parchment. With ink and quill I had found inside the keep, I had written a brief note to Sir Hugh.

  “If you can withstand another assault to buy us some time, I would be grateful,” I said fearfully, worried at the cost her people would pay to give us a head start. “Then I would have you ask to speak to Sir Hugh under a flag of truce. Don’t venture outside until his forces withdraw from the wall, and make sure you meet him in range of the crossbows. Jean-Luc will know what to do. Give Sir Hugh this note and tell him I’m gone. Tell him you’ll allow two of his men, but not him, to search the castle to confirm it. When he realizes we’re already gone, he should be itching to get away from here and come after us.”

  Celia nodded, taking the note from me and secreting it in her tunic.

  “What does the note say?” Robard asked.

  “Nothing much. I just told him farewell, leave these good folk alone, and he’ll never catch me,” I said.

  “That should work,” Maryam said.

  “Good note. I need to learn how to write one of these days,” Robard commented as he pulled again and again at the rope.

  Martine joined us on the wall now to say her good-byes as well.

  “Good-bye, Martine,” I said. “Please take care of her.”

  “Oui, monsieur,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears, but she willed them away. I hadn’t gotten to know her well, but I had witnessed her fierce loyalty to Celia. Like Philippe, I believed Martine would gladly give her life for Celia.

  “One more thing,” I said. “Would you mind looking after Angel?” I pointed to her, and as soon as I did, she snarled and jumped up, putting her forepaws on my hip.

  “I would, but I think she prefers to go with you,” Celia said.

  “I don’t see how we can take her!” I said.

  She dug at my hip with her paws. “Quiet, girl!” I said. But my words had no effect.

  “I don’t see how we can leave her,” Robard said.

  “What? Why not?” I replied.

  “Because she doesn’t want to stay,” Maryam said.

  Martine took action. She removed the cape she wore over her tunic and scooped Angel up into her arms. Very quickly she twisted the cape around and around, tying several knots, and before I knew it, she looped it over my head and shoulders. Angel wiggled against my chest and poked her head out of the covering.

  Everyone laughed. I couldn’t help but chuckle myself. If she was so determined, I would have no choice but to bring her along.

  “Now you carry your dog like a Cathar woman carries her baby,” Celia said.

  Despite the fact that we were likely to plunge to our deaths in a few moments, Robard and Maryam found this extremely funny.

  “Could you make one of those carriers for me?” Robard asked Martine. She didn’t understand him, so she just nodded. “Never mind,” he said glumly.

  The time had come to leave and yet, looking at Celia, I found myself rooted to the spot. My body was unwilling to move, yet I knew I had to go. The morning light had painted the world a mellow gold, and despite the dust and sweat that clung to Celia, she was still beautiful and I wished more than anything to change my mind.

  “Celia . . . I . . .” There was nothing left to say. My silence was physically painful, as though the seconds would never pass, but almost in slow motion she stepped forward and threw her arms around me. I went as still as a statue, not sure if I could, or should, return her embrace.

  She stepped back from me and I could see the slightest tear at the corner of her eye. “Good-bye, Tristan. Robard. Maryam. My people will not forget you. We will remember what you have done for us. If it hadn’t been for all of you, the High Counsel would have caught us before we reached Montségur. And you helped us drive him away. Do not worry about Sir Hugh. I believe you. When he learns you are gone, he will lose all interest in us. ”

  Robard and Maryam said nothing, too humbled and embarrassed to reply. They merely nodded repeatedly until Maryam finally hugged Celia.

  “Good-bye, Celia,” Ma
ryam whispered. “I’m so sorry about what happened when we first met. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Don’t take it personally, Celia,” Robard chimed in. “She usually tries to kill all of her friends first.”

  Celia laughed as she hugged Robard. I still couldn’t move until Maryam nudged me and whispered that it was time to go. Reluctantly, I stepped up onto the parapet and looked again over the side. Celia had called a few men from their posts to lower us by rope to the ground beneath the northeast wall. Facing away from Sir Hugh’s forces attacking from the opposite side, we could pick our way down the cliff and, I hoped, make it to the valley below.

  I would go first. Gripping the rope in my hand, I sat down on the parapet with my legs dangling over the wall. One of Celia’s carpenters had fashioned another windlass, which would give us stability as we were lowered. The men took up the rope, and I looped it over and around my shoulders, being careful not to hurt the dog. She wiggled a little bit more inside her carrier and then stilled. In fact she might have even gone to sleep.

  Maryam had taken the battle sword from me and carried it across her back. Robard had his bow and remaining arrows in his wallet. He also carried a pouch of food Celia’s cooks had prepared for us. We all carried water skins, and Robard and Maryam each held a coil of the longest rope the Cathars could spare.

  I took a breath, offered up a silent prayer, and nodded to the men working the rope. Gently I let myself go over the side. My last glimpse of Celia was of her ice-blue eyes watching me disappear from sight.

  “I promise, Templar,” I heard her say. “We will remember this.”

  A few seconds later I stood on the small ledge at the bottom of the fortress. Completely removed from the safety of the walls of Montségur.

  24

  As I stood at the base of the wall, waiting for Robard and Maryam to join me, I reflected on all I had learned since I had left St. Alban’s. Templar laws. Sword fighting and battle tactics. I don’t like ships. Hashshashin are not all bad once you get to know them. These were just a few bits of the knowledge now crowding about for space inside my brain. But along with the many new things I’d seen and done since I’d given up my sheltered existence, I had a revelation and it was this: climbing down a nearly vertical cliff is even harder than it looks.

  We had about three feet of space at the bottom of the wall before the rocky ground broke off and plunged nearly straight down. The rope that had lowered us was untied from the windlass and dropped to me. We now had three lengths of rope, but even tied together they would not reach the bottom of the cliff.

  “Madness,” Robard muttered under his breath, standing with his back planted firmly against the castle wall. His eyes were closed and his fists were clenched.

  “What do you think, Tristan?” Maryam asked. “Tie the ropes together, or go in sections and tie off as we go?”

  I was busy at the time, staring at the sheer wall and imagining what the impact of my body at the bottom would feel and sound like. Would Tristan and Maryam be able to hear it up above or would the sound of my death be carried away on the wind?

  “What?” I answered.

  “Templar, you got us into this!” Maryam shouted, suddenly angry. “Now wake up, pay attention and get us out of it!” She smacked me on the shoulder for emphasis.

  “Madness,” Robard repeated.

  “All right,” I said. “I think the best approach would be for you both to hold the rope while I climb down as far as I can. I’ll find a place to tie it off, then Maryam, you come next.” A small boulder stuck up out of the ground at my feet. Testing it with my foot, it proved sturdy.

  “This will work. Robard, once Maryam is down with me, lower your rope down and we’ll tie it to hers. You can pull it back up, and then lower yourself down to us by using this rock like a windlass. We’ll be able to hold on to you all the way down. With any luck, we can repeat this method all the way down the mountain. It will be easy, actually,” I claimed. In reality it wouldn’t be easy at all, but Robard’s eyes were growing wider by the minute, and I wanted to get us moving before he became too frozen to move.

  “Madness,” Robard said again.

  Luckily the side of the cliff was rough and uneven, giving me numerous foot- and handholds. It took me several minutes to climb down even a small way, but after a while I found a rhythm. Then God chose to smite me again, for the angle of the cliff became steeper and I found myself hugging the rock wall, unable to move down or to the side.

  “Maryam, Robard! I’m stuck!” I hollered up at them.

  “What do you mean, stuck?” Robard shouted back.

  “How many different meanings of stuck are there? I can’t move!”

  There were no handholds nearby that I could see. My feet were wedged against the cliff and I held on to the rope with both hands, but my feet and legs trembled.

  Maryam peered down at me. “Do you want us to pull you back up?” she shouted.

  “No! Do you see anyplace where I might be able find a foothold ?”

  Maryam was silent while she studied the surface around me.

  “Hurry up and do something!” Robard shouted at Maryam. “He’s getting heavy!”

  “Tristan, about ten feet below you on your right I can see an outcropping. You should be able to reach it. You’ll have to push out and swing over to it,” she yelled.

  “What? Push out and swing? I’m barely hanging on as it is!” Push out and swing indeed! Even though Maryam and Robard held most of my weight, my legs and arms were losing strength.

  “I didn’t know Templars frightened so easily. You are tied off and we are holding on to the rope, after all,” she shouted down to me.

  “Maryam!”

  “Relax. Trust me. You can do it. Push out and to your right, then we’ll let you down about ten feet. It’s right there. You’ll see!” She tried to sound encouraging. It didn’t matter, though, because I definitely could not stay where I was.

  Gently, I pushed out with my legs and tried to swing to my right. But I stumbled against the wall and tried to scrabble back into position with my feet. I couldn’t regain my footing and slammed my shoulder against the rock, grimacing as it went numb.

  “Ow!” I shouted.

  Grabbing the rope as tightly as I could, I pushed back from the cliff face. My momentum swung me out into space. Robard let out more rope and I dropped another five or six feet. As I swung back toward the wall, I thrust outward with my legs to keep from smashing into it.

  “You’re right over it!” Maryam shouted. “You should be able to reach it with your feet.”

  Feeling around with my foot, I found the outcropping of rock. It felt solid, with enough room for me to stand. My legs and arms shook from the strain, and I was glad the rope was tied securely around me or I would surely have tumbled the remaining way down.

  Below me, another rock ledge jutted out from the side of the cliff. It looked wide enough for Maryam and I to stand on. There was also a small bush there, jutting out from the side of the mountain. I could tie the end of her rope to it as an anchor in case she slipped on the way down.

  From up above, the sounds of shouts and cries came from Montségur. Sir Hugh was attacking again. The longer we delayed, the dearer the price to those in the fortress.

  “Robard! I need about six feet of slack!” I shouted up to him. He complied, and I grasped the rope and pushed off with my legs, scrabbling downward. I managed to make it to the ledge in a few seconds.

  “I’ve found a good spot!” I shouted up to Robard and Maryam. “Maryam, you come down next and then we’ll help Robard!”

  Robard released his grip on my rope and dropped it down to me. Wrapping it securely around the bush, I gave myself enough slack to move about on the ledge but not enough to fall.

  Whereas I had struggled like a fish tossed up on the shore, Maryam took to the mountainside like a goat. It must have come from growing up in the desert with lots of rocks nearby. With the rope lashed around her waist she attacked
the cliff fearlessly, and, in less than ten minutes, had made her way down the cliff to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me on the small ledge.

  “Roomy,” she said sarcastically.

  “Isn’t it, though?” I said. “We’re ready, Robard!” I shouted up to him.

  We waited, but Robard didn’t say anything back. And the rope didn’t move.

  “Robard?” I hollered up again.

  “Yes?” came the reply.

  “We’re ready,” I repeated.

  “I know,” he said.

  “What are you waiting for?” Maryam shouted.

  “I’m just thinking,” he said.

  “About what?” she yelled back.

  “About how much I don’t like heights,” he said.

  Maryam and I looked at each other. Oh no.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” I cried.

  “Because I didn’t think you’d actually be crazy enough to try this!” he yelled.

  “We can’t go back now! Come on!” Maryam shouted up to him.

  “It’s okay. I think I’ll just go around,” he said.

  Robard stood fifty feet above us, his eyes locked on ours. He didn’t move.

  “I can’t climb down,” he said finally.

  “Yes, you can!” Maryam assured him.

  “No, I can’t,” he asserted.

  Maryam looked at me. “Now what?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Robard, I know you’re scared. But you have to do this,” she coaxed. “You’ll be fine. Just keep your feet against the cliff and follow the sound of my voice. I’ll talk you down.”

  Robard silently shook his head in defiance.

  We were wasting more time, but I couldn’t leave him stranded on the side of the mountain. Then I had an idea. Robard had yet to release Maryam’s rope and had his own length still looped over his shoulder.

  “Robard, remember what I said earlier? Take your rope and loop it around the small boulder.” If I could just get him moving, maybe he’d start climbing.