Trail of Fate tyt-2

by Michael Spradlin

  “I. . We. . Hello, Celia,” I stammered. Time had slowed. I couldn’t move, and could barely speak.

  “I knew it,” Maryam whispered to Robard, who nodded emphatically. Angel was overjoyed to find Celia there. She ran to her, and Celia knelt to scratch her behind the ears, smiling. “Hello, little Angel,” she said.

  “So I take it you got our message? I hope no one was hurt,” I finally said.

  She reached out her hand, and the light reflected off Sir Thomas’ Templar ring. I took it from her and she smiled.

  “Message received, and no harm done,” she said. She greeted Robard and Maryam.

  “Welcome to Montsegur,” she said. “Please allow me to extend all hospitality. Jean-Luc, I’m sure they must be hungry and tired. Can you see they are fed and have a place to sleep?” She spoke these words in French, but slowly, so I could follow along. My face fell, though, for after everything we had gone through to get here, I had no wish to leave Celia’s company so soon.

  “I am not. . Robard and Maryam may be. . I’m not hungry, thank you,” I finally spat out. Celia’s presence severely limited my ability to speak. In fact, I was starving, but I decided on the spot to give up food forever if it meant remaining in Celia’s presence.

  “Come along, Robard. I’m sure Tristan has much to discuss with Celia. Let us find a place to rest. We could both use it.” Maryam took Robard gently by the arm and followed Jean-Luc into a darkened corner of the courtyard. We were finally alone.

  “Why did you come here, Templar?” she asked.

  She got right to the point.

  “It wasn’t our original plan. We left our camp and headed south to the beach, intending to head to Perpignan and find a ship. But we encountered your friend the High Counsel. .”

  “He is no friend of mine!” she interrupted.

  “Yes, so I gathered. He’s a rather unpleasant fellow. At any rate, we convinced him that you had headed to Perpignan, to throw him off your trail. And according to Robard, he did go there, but quickly learned you and your party had not been seen there and returned to track you here.”

  “How did Robard know all of this?”

  “It’s a long story and not terribly exciting, I’m afraid.”

  “As you can see,” she said, sweeping her arms in a wide circle, “I have nothing but time.”

  “Let’s just say we split up for a while, but we all reconnected and now we’re here.”

  “I see.”

  “I just felt I should try to help, if I could,” I said. The details were unimportant. She undoubtedly had more important matters on her mind.

  “It was good of you to come, Templar, and we can certainly use your help, but I fear you are now trapped here with us for a while.”

  We didn’t say anything else for a few moments, which I spent trying not to stare at Celia. But she had her hair pushed up off her face with a headband, and the way the firelight reflected off her held me transfixed.

  “Celia, there is more, something else I must tell you.”

  “Yes?” She looked at me expectantly.

  “We met up with Philippe. He. . When we found him. .” I couldn’t tell her.

  “Out with it, Templar.”

  “He didn’t make it. Philippe is dead. He single-handedly fought six of the High Counsel’s men and managed to kill four of them before he died. We. . Robard, Maryam and I, we encountered. . and took care of the other two.” One of them, at least, permanently.

  Grief washed over Celia’s face in a wave. Her eyes moistened instantly.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.

  She nodded in thanks, but said nothing. A single tear left her eye and rolled gently down her cheek. My brain told my arm to reach out then. To embrace her and wipe the tear away. But I did not. My arm felt frozen in place.

  “I wish I could. .” I stopped, for my words sounded empty even to me. I felt useless, standing there like a statue, unable to comfort her.

  “Poor Philippe,” she finally said.

  “Had he served your father long?” I asked, desperate for her to talk or do anything but cry.

  “Since I was a child. My father wished for Philippe and I to marry.”

  Her words hit me like a hammer to the stomach. She was to marry Philippe? I had thought, by the way they acted together, with her clearly in charge, that their relationship was adversarial if nothing else.

  “Really? Then I am doubly sorry,” I said, not meaning a word of it. I was instantly aware that I was guilty of the sin of jealousy, but I would ask forgiveness later.

  “Yes. It was my father’s wish, not mine. I am. . was. . fond of Philippe, but I had no desire to marry him.”

  “I see,” I said, trying to keep the joy out of my voice. But my happiness was immediately replaced by guilt, when I remembered that the poor man had bravely given his life for her. What had become of me? What were these feelings that consumed me? Right then I was further crushed by the loss of Sir Thomas. I wished he were there. Or Sir Basil, or Quincy. I wished I could talk to them about this woman who made me feel so strange.

  Celia was quiet, to gather herself.

  “Celia, would you like me to go with you to tell your father about Philippe?” I offered.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you, but my father is not here. When I went to conference with the archbishop, my father left for Paris to petition the King for help. He won’t return for some time.”

  This was not good news. I had assumed Celia’s father would be in command of his men-at-arms. Jean-Luc acted capable, but Philippe had said he had very little experience, and he was not much older than me. I silently cursed my luck. My talent for placing myself in dangerous and nearly hopeless situations apparently knew no bounds.

  “Thank you for coming back, Templar, and for being there with Philippe at the end. I know he loved me, and though I could not return those feelings, he was a good man, a loyal servant to my father and a fierce protector of our people. When this is over, we shall celebrate his life as is our way, but if Philippe were here now, he would say, ‘First things first.’ Come. Let me find you a hot meal and a bed. You must be exhausted.”

  “Celia, about Philippe. When I found him, he was very near death. I promised him a Christian burial, but he insisted I not waste the time. He demanded I come to you immediately. I hope it was the right thing.”

  She smiled and closed her eyes, lost in some pleasant memory. “It was, Tristan. You did exactly the right thing. Do not worry. I know our beliefs may sound strange to you. But we are a simple people, devout in our own way. You did exactly as Philippe would have wished. Come let me show you our fortress.”

  She held out her hand for me to take. I stood there, unable to move any part of my body. She looked down at her hand, then up at my face and quietly laughed. She finally took my hand in hers, and I couldn’t be certain, but a bolt of lightning may have traveled directly from my hand to my brain. She took a torch from a sconce on the wall nearest us and led me across the courtyard to an area beneath the battlements where several cook fires still blazed. A few men and women busied about, cooking and talking cheerfully to one another. At a command from Celia, a plate of simmering meat and vegetables was placed in my hand.

  The aroma was so enticing that it took every ounce of my self-control not to devour the entire portion in one gulp. However, I would need to let go of her hand to eat, and I had no wish to do so. Standing there, feeling temporarily safe and happy, I voted for starvation over severing our physical connection. But she released my hand and sat on a nearby barrel so I could eat.

  When I had finished the meal, Celia led me up a set of stairs to a second level of the castle keep, then down a corridor to a small room with no door.

  “Our accommodations are not elegant, but they will have to do.” She placed the torch in a holder on the wall. The room was indeed small and windowless, with only a straw mattress on the floor, but it was much better than sleeping directly on the cold stone.

&
nbsp; “This will do me fine,” I said. “Where are Maryam and Robard?”

  “They are down the hall, in their own rooms. I’m sure they’re fast asleep by now. All of you must be exhausted. We’ll talk more in the morning,” she said as she moved to leave.

  “Celia, wait, I have many questions,” I said. Actually I had very few, but I did not wish her to leave. She smiled at me.

  “Tomorrow,” she said softly, and drifted away down the hall.

  So I slept, collapsing to the mattress and not even moving until Robard nudged me awake with his boot.

  “Rise, squire. The High Counsel has returned and there’s something else you need to see,” he said, anticipation tinged with apprehension in his voice.

  “What is it?” I groused, for I had not rested well. Dreams of Celia, pleasant though they were, had intruded on my sleep and woken me several times during the night. Now fully awake, I felt tired and out of sorts.

  “You’ll see,” he said, turning toward the door. “Hurry.”

  Robard led me back to the bailey, and I squinted in the bright sun as we left the dimness of the keep. He bounded farther up the stairs to the battlements atop Montsegur’s walls, and shortly we stood above the southwest gate.

  “What is it?” I asked again.

  “Look for yourself.” He pointed to the field below us, rocky and steep. I peered out, shocked at how many more of the High Counsel’s men had joined his original force. There were at least several hundred men mounted near the tree line. I located him at the head of the column, moving onto the field below the castle, his horse prancing along and his cape flowing behind him. To his immediate rear rode the color bearer carrying a large green-and-white flag, and next to him, a rider carried another banner: the familiar brown-and-white Templar flag.

  Suddenly, nothing made sense. Why would the High Counsel have a Templar regimento with him? My eyes traveled back to where he sat upon his stallion, and I recognized the rider next to him instantly. The meal I’d eaten the night before roiled in my stomach, and I thought for a moment I might be sick on the spot.

  Sir Hugh.

  17

  Even though I knew he would never stop trying to find me, a small part of me had prayed that something would delay Sir Hugh. Bad weather, a wayward arrow, poison, anything. But he had managed to crush even that small hope.

  “How? How does he do it? He escapes from Acre, a city overrun by Saracens, he follows us across an ocean and survives a storm that sinks our ship, and now he finds us here in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a tiny castle! Has he given his soul to Satan, just for the privilege of thwarting me at every turn?” I muttered on longer until I had nothing left to say. Though I was not as experienced at cursing as Robard, I ran through every one I knew. Sir Hugh. A snake, a weasel and a polecat all rolled into one.

  If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said Robard was amused by my futile rant. “What now?” he asked. The steel in his voice brought me back into focus. Robard had a look in his eyes I had noticed before in our time together. Despite his frequent protests, and his genuine desire to return home, he loved a fight. Especially if it involved teaching a harsh lesson to a couple of pompous jackasses like Sir Hugh and the High Counsel. Yet he was also a realist.

  “This changes things. Your friend the High Counsel might have eventually given up the siege. I doubt we can say the same about your friend Sir Hugh,” he said.

  He was right, of course. We were locked in, and I knew Sir Hugh would kill every last man, woman and child here in order to get the Grail. I had foolishly trapped us in this fortress, and now we would pay a heavy price trying to get out of it. To Robard’s credit he did not remind me that he had counseled against such a move in the first place.

  “Do you think he can be bought off?” Robard asked.

  “How?”

  “With whatever it is you’re carrying. Think about it. Give him what he wants and it’s over.”

  Robard did not understand. Giving Sir Hugh the Grail would not save our lives. He’d kill us all anyway so no one else would know he had it. It wouldn’t be over until I had delivered the Grail safely to Father William at Rosslyn or until Sir Hugh or I were dead.

  “Robard. . I can’t. I swore an oath to Sir Thomas. If you had given a vow to your father, would you break it?”

  Robard said nothing for a while, looking out at the ground below the fortress.

  “Oaths are funny things, Tristan. Some are worth dying for, I’ll grant you. Your people, your family, even your country sometimes. Some, though, become more than the giver can bear. My father swore his fealty to King Henry, and what did it get him? When Henry died, his sniveling son took over”-Robard paused to spit at the mention of King Richard-“and everything my father fought and bled for was suddenly meaningless. You are my friend. I’ve come to trust you, like I’ve trusted few before. So I ask you, is what you carry worth dying for?”

  “Sir Thomas thought so,” I said.

  “I never met Sir Thomas, so I don’t know what kind of man he was. You swear by his memory, so I’ll take you at your word. But even if he were alive and standing here before me, I’m not asking him. I’m asking you. Is what you carry worth dying for?”

  Robard’s question made me think long and hard before I answered. Sir Thomas believed it with all his heart. He entrusted it to me, and from what I had witnessed of the Grail so far, I knew I would die before I let Sir Hugh possess it.

  “Yes, Robard, it is.”

  “Then that is enough for me. I’ll see you through this, Tristan. Until you tell me it’s done.”

  I was so moved by Robard’s words that I couldn’t speak. Something about him had changed since he’d returned to us in the village below. He was still headstrong and temperamental, of course, but calmer. He had committed to something he didn’t fully understand, but maybe here among his new friends he had found a struggle worthy of his gifts-unlike his experience in Outremer, which had only left him bitter and angry.

  “Why the sudden change of heart? Before this you wanted only to get to England. Now it’s quite possible we won’t get out of here alive. Why?”

  “Because you are my friend,” he said. He left me then. This was his final word on the matter. In his own way, Robard had sworn an oath, and I felt better than I had in days.

  I stood there alone, the wind hitting my face. It was a cool morning and the breeze had picked up. I heard movement behind me but didn’t turn.

  “Tell me what you see,” Celia said to me.

  “Trouble,” I replied.

  To my surprise, she laughed.

  “We certainly have no shortage of that here,” she said.

  “So it would seem.”

  She stood beside me and closed her eyes.

  “I love the feel of wind in my hair, don’t you?” she asked me.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it before.” And I wasn’t thinking about it now. I stared at her, and despite our circumstances, she looked peaceful, almost serene.

  “Really?” she answered. “All the time you grew up in a monastery, contemplating God and his miracles, and you never once stopped to feel a breeze on your face? What did you do all day?”

  “Mostly worked,” I replied. “There were always chores. I’m not sure the abbot would have found ‘contemplating the feel of the wind’ a worthwhile use of time.”

  “Hmph. Sounds like a very ill-mannered man.”

  “Not really. Stern. But fair. Brilliant even, in many ways.”

  “I’ve yet to meet any cleric whom I would consider brilliant. Bigoted. Prejudiced. Judgmental. I’ve met many of those.”

  “I can’t argue. I can only say that the monks who raised me were kind. Industrious to be sure, but I never wanted for anything.”

  “What about your parents? Didn’t you wish to know who they were?”

  “Of course. But the monks had no control over that. They simply took me in.”

  “I’m sorry. It was rude of me to qu
estion the motives of men I’ve never met. I just. . We’ve been so unfairly persecuted by the church. It’s hard to remember my manners sometimes.”

  I let it pass without comment. Truthfully, I was more concerned about the troops lining up below us than I was about Celia’s feelings about the church or the brothers.

  “Celia, there is something I must tell you. There are Templars on the field below. The High Counsel has enlisted their aid. Their Marshal is known to me. His name is Sir Hugh Monfort. In truth, he is here for me.”

  “After you? Why? Are you not allies?”

  “No. Sir Hugh was. . is a dreadful man. He has committed many violations of our laws. My liege Sir Thomas wrote testimony against him, including sworn statements by many brother knights of our regimento. He entrusted me to deliver them to the Master of the Order in England. I barely made it out of Acre, but Sir Hugh followed me. He’s been chasing me ever since.”

  I then told her the rest of my story, leaving out only Sir Thomas giving me the Grail. She listened intently while I told her about meeting King Richard in Dover, and how I had seen Sir Hugh outside the Commandery meeting with the King’s Guards. And how the King’s Guards had followed me the next day through the marketplace in Dover.

  “In Acre, before I left, I had an encounter with one of the King’s Guards in the stables. He was one of those who had followed me in Dover, and I questioned him about it. He lied and said he didn’t know me, but I pressed him further and he drew his sword. Only the timely arrival of the King stopped us from injuring each other.”

  “The King intervened?” she asked.

  “Yes. Yet, when I think about it now, he had a strange look on his face. As if he were reluctant to stop it. He had to have ordered his guards to follow me in Dover. They answer to no one else but him. But why? And then in Acre, if I hadn’t saved his life on the battlefield, I’m certain. .”

  “Wait,” she interrupted, reaching out and resting her hand on my forearm. “You rescued Richard the Lionheart?” Her touch made me feel dizzy, and I took hold of the stone parapet with my free hand, afraid I might pitch over the side if I didn’t anchor myself.