Talon nodded to Gareth, who grinned. “Do not worry about that, Max. Be prepared to flee with him when it is done,” Gareth said.
They spent a few more minutes talking and discussing the plan, then Talon made off to find his mother and bid her goodbye. He saw the Welshmen equally hurriedly preparing to leave. They would not be coming back, either. He stalled as long as he could saying goodbye to everyone, most of whom were tearful. All the while he was noting the activity going on at the back of the fort and finally he saw the Welshmen, laden with their meager belongings and their bows slipping over the back walls with the help of some of the men-at-arms, who were their friends.
The priest was finally allowed in but stayed mounted, he and his men were surrounded by a baleful group of angry men who would as soon have dragged Domerc down off his horse and killed him then and there as let them do more than sit their horses, waiting.
The farewell was hard. Marguerite was stunned and could not believe this was happening, nor could Aicelina. They both clung to him, crying his name, begging him not to go. Both women believed in their hearts that it would be the last time they would ever see him.
Guillaume, not fully understanding the situation, did realize however that his brother was leaving him and sensed that something was very wrong. He, too, began to cry until Talon crouched near him and lifted his chin with a gentle finger. “You are a Gilles, Guillaume. We do not cry. We are fighters and we prevail. I expect to come back one day and find you a grown man who has looked after our mother and father in their old age and all the women and protected our heritage. Honor and obey our father in all things, and become a good knight.”
His brother wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded but when they embraced he was weeping again. Ermessenda was not to be found so they had to forgo bidding goodbye to her.
Talon finally turned to face his father. “Forgive me if I have dishonored you, sir. I feel that there was no other way. I shall write to you.”
Sir Hughes looked devastated. “God has seen fit to give me barely a glimpse of you before taking you from me again, Talon. No father could have asked for more from a son. You have honored the family and will be named in our roles. We will take this case to the Count and we will win you back, have no fear.”
They embraced for a long moment and then at last they separated. There were tears in all eyes as Talon placed his cloak around his shoulders and mounted the ready Jabbar. The whole party wheeled and rode slowly out through the gates of the fort.
When they had left the gates the men closed in around Talon and he knew then that he was right, he would be lucky if he reached Albi alive.
He looked back once to see his father standing with Bartholomew and his mother and Aicelina on the parapet above the gates. He waved, and then faced forward. He hoped that the Welshmen and Max would succeed in their endeavor.
For thy sake yielding all I love and prize;
And O, how mighty must that influence be,
That steals me thus from all my cherished joys.
Here, ready, then, myself surrendering,
Prepared to serve thee, I submit; and ne'er
To one so faithful could I service bring,
So kind a master, so beloved and dear.
Thibaut Of Champagne, King Of Navarre
Chapter 27
Templar
The small party of men with Talon in their midst and accompanied by Domerc and the priest Father Eustache rode slowly through the village where the people had gathered in small knots. Some of the bolder villagers called out to Talon, wishing him courage. Word had spread fast and had already arrived at the village. The people were frightened and angry. Some shook their fists at the priest and damned him but others made the sign of the cross for protection from evil as the accusation was of witchcraft. They saw Talon as doomed; no one survived an accusation of this kind. The church saw to that.
As the party rode out of the village toward the fields, Talon took care to not seem too curious about what might lie ahead. But inside he felt numb and his stomach was knotted up. He had not anticipated this to happen—the bishop had won after all, reaching out from his grave to seize Talon and take him down.
Now his life was in danger of the most awful kind and he had only one hope. If the Welshmen failed he would go to a prison from which there was no chance of release other than the long walk to either the scaffold or the pile of faggots around a pole. He recalled with a cold chill the bishop’s words when he had been listening in Guillabert’s former castle. That would be his death and his funeral pyre at the same time. He kept his head down and hunched into his cloak as though cold; he was, somewhat, from the turn of events.
Once they were out of sight of the castle and the neighboring village, the priest rode closer to Talon and demanded his attention.
“Well, Talon de Gilles, you young heathen, you are about to get your just deserts. You may have outwitted the others and murdered the Guillaberts, but the charges you now face will take more than even the Count’s power to get you off.”
Talon said nothing. He was watching the track which was now narrower and led between tall trees on either side. They were entering a denser part of the forest with much undergrowth along the side of the road.
The priest continued. “I can say it with impunity now, but you thwarted the church in many ways by slaying the Guillaberts. You deprived us of important revenue which I shall see we get in the end despite your efforts. The death of the bishop can easily be placed upon your head as we can accuse you of being not only a heathen but also to have used witchery to send him and others of his household to their maker.”
Talon turned on the priest. “You are wrong about the possession; the abbot found the will of my mother’s father and we now have absolute proof that Guillabert was lying. I also suspect that ‘his maker’ will have some questions of his own to ask the bishop when he presents himself.”
He did not expect Father Eustache to react the way he did.
“You heathen pig, how dare you blaspheme in his name?” He slashed his whip savagely across Talon’s back.
It made him gasp but before the priest could raise the whip again Talon shot his hand out and seized Eustache’s wrist, then held it in a vise-like grip. His eyes bored into the priest’s. “Be glad, priest, that I did not come for you. I know of your lusts and your appetites, especially for Petrona. I saw you that one night when you tried to get into her chamber.”
The shock on Father Eustache’s face would have been comical had the circumstances been different, but Talon was not able to hold the man’s arm for long. One of the men riding next to him brought down the shaft of his spear on his back, followed by a curse.
Talon had to release his hand to ward off another blow. Domerc laughed nastily and rode his horse hard into Jabbar, then gave Talon a heavy blow with his fist on the side of the face. Talon was unable to defend himself from the blows that now came from all around, all he could do was to hunch down in the saddle and hope to avoid the worst that were aimed at his head. Before he could do anything he found the reins snatched from him by one of the men at arm and his arms bound behind him.
The party was thus engaged when there was a loud shout forward along the path that led through the forest’s edge.
Every man looked up. There, standing in the middle of the road were two men in long cloaks with hoods concealing their faces. Talon instantly recognized Gareth and Drudwas; they had their bows at the ready with an arrow notched.
“Priest!” Gareth shouted. “Halt your men and come forward. I would speak with you.”
Father Eustache looked shocked and went pale. “What do you want? Are you robbers? We are on church business. We have no coin. Get out of the way!” he shouted back.
The men in his troop were now tensely pointing their spears at Gareth and Drudwas as though getting ready to charge them. Before any of them could put into motion the idea of running the two men down, an arrow whispered out of the forest and buried itself de
ep in Domerc’s chest with an audible thump. He gasped, clutched his chest, then fell off his horse, making a surprised choking sound as he landed. He rolled over onto his back and died without another word.
There was a stunned silence for a couple of moments. This example of bowman’s skill should have stopped the men but someone shouted. “Charge through the scum! They can’t kill us all, some can escape.”
This seemed to cause a general panic and the men-at-arms jammed spurs into their horses’ sides. The horses leapt at the two men in the middle of the road.
Talon was dragged along for a moment, but then the reins went slack as the man tugging at his horse took an arrow in the throat and toppled off his horse. Jabbar was dancing about nervously with Talon still trying to stay on, but unable to control him other than to talk to him to try to calm him.
All about was not calm, however. The other men who rode for the priest had taken their chances and failed. Only one got past the hail of arrows that were sent at them by both Gareth and Drudwas and the other Welshmen hidden in the forest. The two men in the roadway had jumped aside when the horsemen charged them but not before discharging their arrows with deadly effect. The one survivor galloped frantically off down the trail, leaving his fallen comrades behind.
The only people left on the road who were still mounted were Talon and the priest, who seemed paralyzed with fear. His horse was prancing about, snorting at the smell of blood, unnerved by the screams that filled the air from the couple of wounded men.
A man with a hood over his head, Belth, came running out of the undergrowth, seized Talon’s reins then tugged him urgently behind him into the forest. As he went Talon looked back and saw Father Eustace look about fearfully. There was no one other than the groaning wounded or dead on the ground. He glanced down at them indifferently and then he clapped spurs to his horse and galloped off down the road in the direction of Albi as fast as he could go.
The Welshmen surrounded Talon and Jabbar, babbling to one another in their tongue and then as Gareth strode up someone cut his bonds free. Talon shook himself and took back the reins. He looked down on his friends clustered about and grinned through the blood on his lips and the bruises on his face.
“That was close, my brothers. I am again in your debt. I think they were getting set to finish the work before we even got to Albi.”
“Indeed we thought so, too, Talon Bach. But there is no time to waste. You have to head south for a mile where Max is waiting for you with your belongings. He is going to take you to Mas-Dieu.”
Talon looked at them in surprise. “Max is taking me? All I wanted him to do was to bring my equipment.”
“He thinks you mean to go to Mas-Dieu alone and will not have it that you should go alone,” Gareth said.
They all walked deeper into the forest to where there were several horses tied to trees.
“We too must leave, m’lord Talon. The winter comes and we would be home before the snows come down hard.”
“You will be hunted men, Gareth. Do you go quickly and get into Aquitaine where the law of this church will not have such an easy time. I shall miss you sorely my brothers, truly.”
Once again they clasped hands but wordlessly this time. In virtual silence Talon turned Jabbar and headed in the direction they had told him. He looked back once and saw only shadows. The Welshmen were gone.
Talon found Max at the place the Welshmen had described. Max came out of the copse of trees when he saw Talon riding down the path toward him. He looked surprised when he saw the bruises on Talon’s face.
“It would seem that the Welshmen got to you just in time, Master Talon,” he said dryly.
Talon nodded and took a long drink from the water skin Max handed to him. He washed his face with some of the water and dried it on the edge of his cloak. “They told me that you were taking me to Mas-Dieu, Max. There is no need, I can find the way.”
“Your uncle, Sir Philip, may God have mercy on his soul, once told me that if I should survive him then I was to help you in any way I could.”
“He did?”
“Yes. He knew that you would one day go back to the land where you were born and where you really belong. I have a wish to accompany you back to Palestine. I am a Sergeant in the Order of the Templars and as such I am bound to go back to my order now that my duty to Sir Philip is done. I find it too close here and I long for the wide spaces. If you will have me as your Sergeant, Talon?”
“Have you, Max? Are you mad? Of course I would have you with me, no one could ask for a better companion, but as a friend, not as a servant. A Sergeant you will stay and a better companion a man could not want for.”
“Then it is settled. You are now a hunted man and if I am not mistaken the priest—if he can be called that—will start a manhunt as soon as he is back in Albi. We have probably three hours on him and we must use the time well.”
Without further ado they took the road southwest. Max had brought all his possessions, including one of the two remaining sacks of gold. Talon had instructed him to leave the other in the care of his mother, who he knew would make it known to his father in due time.
It was a mark of his trust for Max that he could have asked this of him as the money, being gold in a land where it was scarce, would have made Max a very rich man. Max had handed the possessions over without comment and then concentrated on their next move.
They slept that night in the hills deep in a forest where the only company they had were the animals of the woods, and they left them alone. They did hear the lonely cry of a wolf far away and it made Talon remember another time and another world where wolves were part of his life. His thoughts were confused and, although he had Max with him, the long night was his alone. For the first time in many months he thought of that faraway place where he had grown up, and then the remark made by Aicelina came to mind. Would he ever know the meaning of the word peace? He slept, finally, still thinking on that.
They made their way as fast as they could, but also with great caution, along the roads west and over the same mountains that they had traversed when they had first come to Albi. Max did not think that it would occur to the priest that they would head for a Templar fort. Talon was a fugitive. Nonetheless whenever they saw horsemen in front or behind them they would prudently leave the path and watch them from the cover of the woods as they went by.
Talon rode without caring for the first few days, his shoulders hunched and his thoughts bleak. The life he had known at his parent’s hearth was not one that he could have lived willingly for too long, but it had been a wrench to be taken away from it so brutally and so soon. His thoughts lingered on the people he knew he was unlikely to ever see again and he brooded on what fate had handed him.
Max kept pace with Talon, watchful for danger, but gave him space and his silent companionship, aware of the desolate state of his friend’s mind.
It took a week of living in the woods and hedgerows before they came within a day’s ride of Mas-Dieu. Talon’s mood had improved and he was taking more interest in the world around him. The days had become cold and the nights were freezing. It began to rain as they walked their horses down the rutted cart track that passed as a road toward the collection of buildings that comprised the Preceptory. It was sleeting by the time they came within sight of the stronghold. The sleet settled onto their thick cloaks and the horse’s mains and tails, giving them a ghostly effect.
They rode up to the great wooden doors with the Templar seal carved into the stone above, depicting two knights on one horse. Max pulled on the rope hanging down from the archway. The bell inside clanged loudly in the still of the late evening. They waited, listening, until they heard the crunch of boots on the stones inside and a voice demanded their business.
Max called out, “Max von Bauersdorf, Sergeant of Templars, on urgent business with My Lord Sir Greves.”
There was a muttered comment and then they heard the huge wood bars being drawn and the right hand gate swung open. They wal
ked the horses between the three guards on the other side and on into the courtyard, hearing the door crash shut behind them.
A man came over to them carrying a flaming torch held high over his head. “You can put your horses in those stables over there,” he said gruffly, and pointed in the general direction of some low buildings against the walls. “Then come into the Great Hall. The knights are at dinner.”
They complied with his instructions, finding two unoccupied stalls where they were able to untack their animals, and then found feed to place in front of them. It was hard to see in the gloom of the darkened stables but Talon was fairly sure Jabbar was fine for the night. He made sure he went through the little ritual that he knew Jabbar loved of rubbing his face with a blanket before leaving.
They carried their few belongings with them toward the doorway at the other end of the yard from which there came light and the low murmur of many voices. The tantalizing smell of cooking meat and vegetables came to them as they walked. Talon realized that he was very hungry.
They were met at the door by a servant who told them to leave their baggage in the hall where it would be safe and then showed them the way toward the Great Hall.
“We’re safe here,” Max murmured as they walked down the corridor. “We are with the Templars now, your new family.”
Talon said nothing. His eyes were drawn to the men he saw seated on benches at long tables, eating. There were servants moving about, providing them with wine and bread and salt when called for. The hubbub of a large hall full of eating and talking men was somehow reassuring to the two men who were used to sleeping rough and eating whatever they could trap, fish, or buy in passing.
Talon saw that there was a high table, not unlike the one at the abbey. Here, though, instead of men of peace, there were hard-faced, bearded men who wore uniforms and the insignia of war.
The servant who had brought them to the entrance told them to wait and went into the hall, wending his way to the high table where he came up to a man who looked quite senior and, bending over, whispered into his ear.
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