The Noble Mercenary

by Patrick John Donahoe

  “Anything . . . you know that.”

  “I brought six copies of my Book of Healing for you to keep safe until I return, two in Arabic, two in Hebrew, and two in French. You know how precious they are to me.”

  “I’m honored that you would entrust them to me.”

  “Perhaps you can persuade your obstinate monk healers to use at least some of the practices and cures we have compiled in these books, and save a few more lives.”

  “I’ve been trying, but the elder monks teach their handed down methods to the younger monks, and are resistant to any new techniques. Fortunately, since they’ve developed some trust in me, I’ve managed to save a few more mothers and babies, by insisting that anyone touching the mother or child wash their hands first. But, even that’s been a challenge.”

  “I’m gratified to hear you’re having success. Don’t give up. I know many more deaths could be prevented with more sanitary procedures. It is as if our unclean hands carry unseen creatures from one sick person to another, and we’re spreading disease while trying to help our patients.”

  “The monks are resistant, but they’re seeing the results and starting to cooperate.”

  “Excellent. Jacques and I are guarding a Baronet and his entourage to France. We leave early in the morning. I will miss you.”

  “I will miss you too,” Desiree anticipated their farewell embrace.

  Ian hugged her and kissed her on the forehead. He turned to leave, and said, “Goodbye.”

  Desiree felt letdown. She had hoped for more commitment and reluctance to leave her, but at least he had trusted her with his most treasured possessions.

  Ian proceeded down the narrow alleyways of the city to the tradesmen’s quarter and entered Mordecai’s swordsmith shop. Serena was hammering on a red hot billet. She looked up from her work and motioned for Ian to sit in the shop’s only wooden chair until she was done.

  Ian relaxed and watched her work. She was the most amazing woman he had ever met. She could work like a man, and when she put a little effort into dressing up, could look like an exotic queen. Ian hoped to propose marriage to her when he returned from his journey.

  Serena plunged the billet into the cooling pot, laid down her hammer and approached Ian. Her exposed skin was sweat covered, her clothes sweat stained and grimy, and her hair in disarray. Ian always saw the beauty which lay underneath her workmanlike exterior. Undaunted by her appearance, he hugged her with enthusiasm.

  “I have a couple of items for you,” Ian said. He lifted a leather thong from around his neck, and pulled the attached leather pouch from inside his tunic. “I want you to keep my money safe while I’m away.” Ian handed the pouch to Serena.

  Serena accepted the pouch, loosened the drawstring, looked inside and whistled at the sight of Ian’s treasure. “I can’t be responsible for your money.” She started to hand the pouch back.

  Ian held up his hand in refusal to accept the pouch back. “You’re the only one I trust with it. I can’t leave it in my stable quarters.”

  “Why can’t you leave your money with Jacques?”

  “He’s going, also.”

  Jacques entered the hospital hoping to find Desiree available to spend a few minutes alone with him. He was afraid to tell her about his upcoming trip, which was unusual for him, a known lady killer. He found her with a female patient, a minor noble’s wife traveling with her husband on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. She had picked up one of the local miseries and Desiree was giving her one of Ian’s herbal cures. Jacques waited patiently in the hallway until the patient left and Desiree emerged from the room.

  “Jacques, what are you doing here in the middle of the day?”

  “We need to talk. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “For you, yes.”

  “Good. Walk with me.” Jacques led her outside to the alley in front of the hospital. “Let’s walk and talk.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Ian and I are going to escort a Baronet and his entourage to France. I wanted to say goodbye.”

  Desiree alerted to the journey by Ian earlier in the day, pretended surprise, but felt disappointed again that the men were leaving. “I’m going to miss you . . . both of you.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too. Maybe we don’t have to miss each other . . . I mean maybe you could accompany us.” Jacques felt better having blurted out his heart’s desire.

  Desiree, shocked at this suggestion, hesitated to respond. “I . . . I mean, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why, a Muslim female traveling with a French knight through dangerous country all the way to France. We might not survive the journey.”

  “It would not be only you and I, we would have Ian and all the Baronet’s entourage.”

  “I understand, but as an unmarried Muslim woman in such company, I would be not only a danger to myself, but to everyone in the company.”

  Jacques considered his answer carefully. “Maybe you would not have to be unmarried.”

  Desiree considered her answer carefully. She did not want to hurt Jacques’ feelings. She would not have refused Ian if he had asked her the same question, but since it had been Jacques who asked, she said, “I’m not prepared to marry yet, perhaps in a couple of more years. I have much to do yet.”

  Jacques was not used to extending himself so personally, and had never been turned down when he had done so. He felt his heart drop in his chest. He stopped walking, and reached out to touch her face. He wanted to kiss her, but restrained himself. She had not turned him flat down. She had only delayed the inevitable, so there was still hope. He took her arm and directed them back towards the hospital. Jacques picked up the pace, wanting to conclude their meeting before he said something he might regret in his disappointment. “I know you need to return to the hospital, but I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Anything, you know that.”

  Jacques pulled a leather pouch from a pocket within his tunic and handed it to Desiree. “Will you keep this safe for me until I return?”

  Desiree undid the leather thong and peeked inside the heavy pouch. “I cannot hold your fortune.”

  “I trust it with you. I cannot leave it in my quarters and do not want to take such a large sum with me on the road. Ian and I have purchased a large quantity of spices, and Ian has contracted for two camel loads of herbal medicines for us to sell in France. We will return with enough wealth to build homes of our own outside the city. If we don’t return, I want you to keep the money.”

  “I’m overwhelmed. I don’t want your money. I just want you . . . and Ian . . . to return safe and sound.”

  “We will. I will bring you back an original Frankish gown.”

  “Where would I wear a Frankish gown?”

  “I . . . or, we could all go to one of the King’s balls.”

  “I don’t know if your King would appreciate a Muslim female nurse at one of his grand balls.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  They arrived at the front door to the hospital. The sooner Jacques parted company the more comfortable he would feel. He had not formally asked her to marry him, but she had not exactly turned him down. He needed to depart without embarrassing himself further. He wanted to kiss her, not knowing if he would ever see her again, but he restrained himself and hugged her tight, almost too tight, and said, “Until we meet again.”

  “Return soon, I will miss you.”

  Jacques turned and walked down the street toward the tradesmen’s alley. “I will miss you too.” Jacques walked with a heavy heart. He was not a crier. He had the ability to remain stoic under almost all circumstances, but if he wasn’t so strong, the tears would have flown. He considered what he would say to Serena. He knew she cared about him, but he didn’t feel the same way about her as he did for Desiree.

  Serena was sharpening a sword when he arrived. To Jacques’ relief there were no customers in Mordecai’s shop, and Mordecai was not around
. This ‘goodbye’ would be easier for him; besides, he needed to have Serena sharpen his sword and hunting knife. “Good day, Serena.”

  Serena stopped sharpening and looked up at Jacques. “Good day, what brings you by in the middle of the afternoon?” She set the sword and whetstone aside, and walked up to Jacques, closer to him than he felt comfortable. He could smell the hot forge and sweat odors emanating from her perspiration covered torso.

  “I need to have my sword and hunting knife sharpened.” He handed the weapons to Serena.

  She ran her right thumb across the blades. “They don’t seem that dull to me.”

  “Ian and I are going to France and I need fresh edges on my weapons.”

  Serena looked Jacques in the eyes, and asked, “How long have you known you were leaving?”

  “Ian and I met with a minor noble, a Baronet, yesterday morning and arranged to escort his entourage back to France.”

  Serena cast her eyes downward. “How long will you be gone?”

  “Three to four months. We’ve not been home for almost four years.”

  Serena looked into Jacques’ eyes. “I’ve always wanted to visit France.”

  Jacques, stunned by her declaration, didn’t know how to reply. He searched her eyes and saw the possibilities. He wished Desiree had suggested a desire to visit France. “Maybe one day the four of us can visit France together.” Seeing the disappointment on Serena’s face, he added, “I would like that . . . very much.”

  Serena’s composure returned, “Come back any time tomorrow and pick up your weapons. Better than new.”

  Jacques turned to leave. “Has Ian come by yet . . . to tell you about our trip?”

  “Yes. He seems very excited. He said you’re also going to Ireland to visit his uncle.”

  “That’s our plan. I’ll return tomorrow.” Jacques strode to the door of the shop entrance, turned, and said, “Thank you. . . Goodbye.”

  “Thank you,” Serena said with longing in her voice. She watched him until he had turned the corner down the alley. Then she pulled a billet out of the red hot faggots with a pair of iron tongs, held it steady on the anvil with her left hand and picked up her hammer with her right hand. She began pounding the billet with the hammer as hard as she could while holding back a tear.

  The twelve-days’ travel from Ashdod to Catania consisted of passage on two different ships, the first from Ashdod to Athens, and the second from Athens to Catania. Ian boarded every ship on the piers in Catania, Sicily’s harbor, and asked each ship’s master, or mate, if they knew the location of Pierre LeBeau’s ship, the Rose Blanche. A dockworker told Ian that LeBeau was tied up at the pier at the end of Roja Street, but he had pulled out the day before. Ian was crushed. He had hoped to hire LeBeau to take them the rest of the way to Marseille.

  Since it was late in the day, Jacques arranged for their entourage to put up in the Grey Whale, an inn near the pier at the end of Roja Street.

  That evening at dinner, Captain LeBeau strolled into the inn’s dining area.

  Ian jumped to his feet and rushed up to the Captain. “Do you remember me?”

  Captain LeBeau stared at Ian for a second, then exclaimed, “My boy, Ian, of course I remember you!” He gave Ian a hearty hug, and asked, “Are you ready to sign on?”

  “No sir, but we would like to book passage with you to Marseille.”

  “Excellent, we sail tomorrow. I had to take the Rose out today to test my new sail and rigging. We sail at sunrise. How many are in your company?”

  Ian pointed to the two tables occupied by his group. “Seven. My friend Jacques and I,” Jacques raised his mug, “the Baronet, his wife, his manservant, his launderer and cook, and his stable boy.” Ian pointed each out in turn. “Can you accommodate all of us?”

  “I have no other passengers on this voyage, so if you and your friend can assist the crew, I’m two short of a full crew, we can manage.”

  “Excellent.” Ian pulled a chair from one of the other tables, “Join us.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m looking for my First Mate to discuss the final preparations before I retire for the evening. We can talk onboard.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Ian and Jacques threw in with the crew, and helped not only their own entourage to settle in on the ship, but helped Captain LeBeau and crew ready the ship for sea, by casting off lines and letting out sail. Once they were out of Catania Harbor and steady sailing, Ian and Jacques approached Captain LeBeau with Ian’s proposal.

  “So you would like to partner with me? You will find the passengers for a fee and I will carry them on my ships?”

  “I and my partner, Jacques,” Ian looked at Jacques to include him in the negotiations, “would like to be co-owners of the ships.”

  Jacques nodded his assent to the Captain.

  The Captain’s eyebrows raised and he stared at Ian.

  Ian continued, “Yes sir. I see us owning a fleet of ships carrying cargo and pilgrims back and forth between the Holy Land and France. There is an untapped market for scheduled sailings at controlled rates. Many pilgrims risk life and limb taking the land route to Jerusalem, and would gladly pay a trusted shipping company for round trip passage.”

  “How do you propose to start this venture?”

  “Jacques and I will provide the down payment for a second ship which you will outfit to accommodate more passengers than cargo, and we will book passengers from France to Jerusalem every other month.”

  “What about the return passage?”

  “We will tell them the return trip is every other month. They will have a month in the Holy Land. If they miss their return voyage they will pay an additional fee to return on a later voyage. If they don’t return at all we keep their return passage prepayment. You will carry as much cargo as can be put aboard depending on the passenger load.”

  “Do you plan to serve as captain on the second ship?”

  “Only if you can’t find a suitable captain, but I’m confident you will. Besides, I would like to see us expand to a fleet of ships.”

  Captain LeBeau spit in his right hand and offered to shake hands with Ian, “Let’s make this partnership work and become rich together.” The Captain shook hands with Ian, then Jacques.

  Jacques had felt at-sea queasiness since the ship left port, but he restrained himself from vomiting in Ian and Captain LeBeau’s presence, and declared, “To a fleet of ships.”

  Ian wished he had brought Tonnerre Noir along, but the long sea voyage may not have agreed with him, and Ian would not have wanted him to suffer. Jason, Ian’s most reliable guard promised to take good care of Tonnerre Noir until Ian returned. He was disappointed in LeBeau and his Mate for allowing their horses to die from inadequate care. LeBeau’s only sailor who knew anything about horses had died in a knife fight over a girl in a Catania tavern.

  Ian enjoyed the voyage from Catania to Marseille on the Rose Blanche with Captain LeBeau, and he hoped they could make their partnership work. Ian taught Jacques everything he had learned about shipboard duties during his sailing from Ireland to Marseille when he was fifteen, and learned a few more sailor’s skills besides. Jacques was interested in the science of sailing, gaining the most speed and distance out of the combined use of sail and rudder, and making headway by tacking into the wind, and had little interest in the daily drudgery of sailing.

  The Baronet was sea sick and complained constantly throughout the entire journey. Ian had to restrain Jacques twice to keep him from throttling the Baronet. Ian and Jacques collected the rest of their pay and parted company with the Baronet and his entourage in Marseille.

  Ian and Jacques spent only one day in the Marseille marketplace selling their spices and herbal medicines. Ian felt they could have received more money for their goods if they had bargained with the potential buyers, but both he and Jacques were too anxious to visit Luc and family to haggle effectively.

  Ian negotiated an excellent bargain for two adequate horses for the road journey from Ma
rseille to Toulon.

  Three

  Ian and jacques did not arrive in France as conquering heroes, since the taking of Jerusalem was old news, but as Knights of Jerusalem with responsible duties in the Holy City. The fate of the Holy Land was not as high of a priority to most Frenchmen now that it was in Frankish control. Many of those, who were wont to become holy warriors, had already carried the cross to Jerusalem, and died, or returned as heroes to the daily concerns of life in France, their sense of honor and adventure satisfied. They had already told the stories of the battles fought to gain Jerusalem, and of the exotic life to be had in the Holy Land.

  Ian and Jacques rode through the front gate of the estate. From a distance, the old mansion looked just the way it did when they departed nearly four years earlier. They rode slowly up to the front door. Ian’s memories of life on the estate flooded his mind. The acceptance and the love he had felt when he was adopted into the family started to overcome his emotions. Up close the mansion and the grounds looked the same as when they left, but somehow they were not the same. They wrapped their horses’ reins around the rail at the entrance to the portico and strode up to the front door.

  Jacques opened the front door and led the duo into the foyer, their armor clanking and banging on the marble floor as they strode into the room.

  Luc rushed into the foyer from the nearby library, and shouted out, “Gabrielle, Gabrielle, come here quick!”

  Ian and Jacques removed their helmets and held them in their hands while Luc awkwardly hugged Jacques and Ian in their full armor and kissed them both on their cheeks above the beard lines, “My prodigal sons have returned!” he almost shouted.

  Gabrielle entered the foyer as fast as her legs would carry her and took her turn hugging and kissing both of them.

  Ian felt Gabrielle was never going to loosen her grip on him, while Luc hugged Jacques one more time.

  Luc held Jacques at arm’s length and looked him over. “Welcome home. It has been almost four years since you left as boys, now you’ve returned as strong and impressive men. We’ve missed you so much,” Luc said as tears streamed down his face. “You should be 20-year- old men, but you look more youthful, and yet more mature at the same time. How can this be?”