Trail of Fate tyt-2

by Michael Spradlin

  We sat up, pushing the hay out of the way. I jumped out of the wagon and vigorously shook the boy’s hand several times.

  “Well done, mon ami. Well done,” I said. I wanted to thank him more profusely but wasn’t sure my French was adequate for the task.

  Maryam, whose clothing and hair was covered in bits of hay, thanked him as well.

  He smiled, and the expression on his face said he was more than happy to help two slightly crazed, hay-encrusted strangers.

  I examined the wagon with the boy, and we discovered that the wheel on one side had indeed slipped off the axle. I offered to help him repair it, but he would have none of it. He waved us on our way.

  He pointed to the trail we stood on, then lifted his arm and pointed up toward the mountains in the distance. “Montsegur.”

  His meaning was clear.

  I bowed to the boy in gratitude. It was unusual to see such courage and cool-headedness in a boy so young, and for a moment, though he looked nothing like him, his manner and disposition reminded me of Quincy, my friend and fellow squire whom I had left behind in Acre. His memory came rushing back to me, and I was overcome by feelings of regret.

  “Very well. Merci,” I said. Maryam was busy pulling bits of hay from her hair, but she waved good-bye to the boy. Gathering up the small bag of food, we took to the road. Angel fell into step a few paces in front of us.

  “Next time, Little D-. . Angel,” I said, “try to stay quiet when enemy soldiers are about.”

  She kept trotting ahead of us, ignoring my admonition, and bounded about, rushing to and fro as if madness had overcome her.

  “Angel, you need to be quiet. Stop acting foolish. There could still be. .”

  “Tristan?” Maryam interrupted.

  “Yes?”

  “You do realize you’re talking to a dog?”

  “Yes.”

  “She can’t understand you. You didn’t by chance hit your head on the hay wagon, did you?” she said with mock concern.

  “She heard me. She just chooses to ignore me.”

  Maryam’s ill temper had returned, and we walked on in silence awhile longer. Several times, I found myself slowing my pace, as she appeared to have no interest in moving quickly along the trail. Fearing she would tear my head off if I asked her to hurry, I remained quiet.

  “What do you suppose has become of Robard?” she finally asked. At last, I thought. She wants to talk about it.

  “I don’t know. He must have reached Perpignan by now. I hope he found a ship,” I said gently.

  “I wish he hadn’t left,” she said with a catch in her voice.

  “I know.”

  I looked at Maryam and thought I saw tears in her eyes. She looked away.

  “Maryam?” I asked a while later when she had composed herself.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you explain something to me? A question about men and women? Keeping in mind I grew up in a monastery?”

  She laughed. “I’ll try.”

  “You’re sad Robard is gone,” I said.

  “I am.”

  “Yet when we were together, you argued constantly. Quite heatedly, I might add. But when he tried to leave, you did everything you could to talk him out. .”

  Maryam chuckled again. “I know. He can be incredibly annoying. But often, as you’ve seen, he is brave and noble. After we lost you in the ocean, we were still tied to the deck of the ship. The storm worsened and I was certain we were going to die. Robard kept telling me to hang on, he wasn’t going to let anything happen to me. When the ship broke apart, we went under, but Robard managed to get both me and Angel to the surface. He grabbed on to a piece of wreckage and we held on to it together. All the time he kept talking calmly to us, over the roaring wind and thrashing waves. He repeatedly told me we would be fine. We just needed to make it through the storm. Several times I thought I would lose my grip and sink into the water, but Robard wouldn’t allow it.”

  Maryam gazed off into the distance as she walked. She had a smile on her face as she remembered, which I thought odd, because I would have done anything to forget such a terrifying experience. Then I realized she wasn’t remembering almost drowning. She was remembering Robard saving her.

  “I lost consciousness a few times, but Robard held on to both of us. The next thing I remember is waking up on the shore with a fire going and Angel licking my face. Robard must have carried both of us out of the water, because I have no recollection of getting there. When I asked him what had happened, he just shrugged and changed the subject.”

  Her story gave me pause, and I wondered if the Grail, even though I carried it with me, had extended its protection to my friends. The fact of their survival was miraculous to me. Was it another miracle of this sacred relic, or did Robard save them by himself?

  “There’s no question of Robard’s bravery,” I said. “And he is a decent fellow. He has just grown weary of the war and misses his home and family. It’s hard to blame him for wishing to return there as quickly as possible.”

  “I suppose,” she answered. I still didn’t understand though. The brothers had explained the ways of men and women to me, and had told me that someday I might wish to marry when I left St. Alban’s. Yet, so far, I found women. . puzzling.

  As we walked, the path got steeper and the mountains we had first observed from far off drew nearer. It grew colder as we climbed higher. The trail we followed was well traveled, marked with numerous ruts made by wagon wheels and horse tracks. The boy had said we could follow this trail all the way to Montsegur, but had given no indication of how far it was.

  The sun rose high in the sky and we kept on northward. Each time we came to a village or town, we either went around it and found the trail again, or moved through it as quickly as we could, trying hard to remain invisible. After a few more hours of walking, we stopped in a shaded glen to eat. Angel ate her fill of cheese and apples and curled up next to me for a nap. For a brief instant, sitting there in the beautiful spot, I forgot everything: the Grail, my duty, and the fact that Robard had left us. I even forgot about Sir Hugh, and the High Counsel and his men, who were undoubtedly trying to find me.

  I sat beneath the shade of the trees and watched the sunlight filter its way through the leaves and dance across the ground. It was refreshing. The soreness that plagued me from my adventure in the ocean left me. It was amazing what rest and food could do to restore one’s spirits. But the feeling was fleeting.

  I wished to stay longer, but we had to press on. After an hour we rose to our feet and resumed our march north. We talked some, but finally concentrated on making good time. Back in Outremer, we had at one point run nearly nonstop for several days to make our way to Tyre in advance of the attacking Saracens. The High Counsel had a head start, and I suppose we could have quickened our pace. But Celia knew the High Counsel was coming, and as long as he didn’t catch her before she reached the fortress, she should be safe. I would be no good to her if I arrived exhausted. I would need my wits and energy about me.

  We walked on and on, finally silent, as we had grown too tired to talk anymore. The sun was sinking in the west, and we would need to find a place to bed down for the night soon. It had been a very long day.

  But thoughts of rest vanished when an anguished scream pierced the air.

  12

  What was that?” Maryam asked, her daggers ready as she scanned the trail ahead of us.

  “I don’t know. It sounded like a woman’s scream,” I said. “It came from up ahead.” Angel scream,” I said. “It came from up ahead. Angel paced cautiously ahead of us. She sniffed and tossed her head, and we crept quietly along.

  A few yards farther up the trail, we approached the outskirts of a settlement. Another scream startled us both, and we leapt off the trail into the safety of the trees. Maryam crouched, petting the dog to keep her calm. I drew my short sword and peered through the trees at the buildings ahead, trying to get a sense of what was happening.

  It was
a small village, like the one we’d stopped at a few hours before, with about a dozen wooden dwellings and a few other buildings crowded alongside the trail. It looked deserted. Then there was a louder and even more tormented scream that echoed off the trees around us.

  Angel looked up at me with her brown, intelligent eyes. I held my fingers to my lips and told her to stay. She stared back at me and whined quietly, then lay down on the ground, her small tail bobbing madly back and forth.

  I gestured for Maryam to follow me.

  We crept up behind the first small dwelling. With my back to the wall, I peered around the corner toward the interior of the village but saw nothing. The only sound was the breeze as it moved through the woods. Then I thought I heard a muffled cry coming from a small cluster of buildings a few yards ahead. I motioned for Maryam to go around the other side and work her way forward. She melted away in an instant, and I carefully stepped around the corner, my sword at the ready.

  The doorway of the hut was open, but with a quick look inside I found it deserted. I moved quickly past it and on to the next building. Also empty. There was a murmur of voices up ahead, mingled with the sounds of soft cries. Still advancing forward, and pausing at the space between two of the huts, I found Maryam waiting for me. She had heard the noise as well, and signaled for us to keep moving toward it as she faded away again.

  A few paces ahead I came to the last building facing the village square. I peered cautiously around the corner to find two of the High Counsel’s men standing, swords drawn, before a man slumped to the ground with his hands tied behind his back. A young boy and girl were sobbing uncontrollably, clutching their mother’s skirts a few steps away.

  Looking down the side of the building, Maryam was already studying the scene from her vantage point. Her eyes found mine and I nodded for her to meet me out of sight of the two men.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she whispered, her voice quivering with anger.

  “I don’t know. What do you suppose this man has done to be tied up so?”

  Maryam shrugged. “Maybe they are some of Celia’s people. If they couldn’t make it to the fortress, perhaps they hid out here and were discovered by those cretins.”

  “I wonder if those are the two men who survived the encounter with Philippe,” I pondered.

  “Safe to assume. They must be on their way to Montsegur to rejoin their forces. What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet.” I tried to concentrate, but then from the other side of the hut came a loud smack and another scream. I didn’t know what was happening, but I had little patience for those who would injure innocent people.

  “Circle through the woods and work your way to the far side of the buildings. I’ll draw their attention and try to get them to chase me. When they do, take those people to the woods and find a place to hide.”

  Maryam nodded and left me there. I counted to one hundred very slowly to give her time to move into position. Then I stepped out where the men would see me.

  One of the soldiers was holding the bound man’s hair in his clenched fist while the other tried to work a length of rope around his neck. The boy launched himself at the two men, his small arms flailing and kicking at the villain who held his father’s hair. The man laughed and backhanded the lad, sending him sprawling in the dirt.

  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 etes-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 goo
d. 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.