The Noble Mercenary

by Patrick John Donahoe

  She pummeled Jacques on the chest with her small clenched fists. She screamed, “Liar! He would never rob anyone!”

  Jacques caught Rosemarie’s fists in his much larger hands. “We, Ian and I, caught him in the act of robbing one, Johannes Kamp. Jean killed one of his own guards to make his story more plausible.”

  Rosemarie struggled to free herself from Jacques’ grip. Frustrated by being held captive, coupled with a story she knew was probably true, she began to weep uncontrollably.

  Ian approached Jacques and tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rosemarie, but it’s true.”

  Jacques released his grip on Rosemarie’s hands and backed away, lest she struck him again.

  Ian stepped in and hugged Rosemarie, who struggled at first and then gave in to being held. She hugged Ian back and began to sob, “Why . . . why, we could have had so much together.”

  “Let’s go into the house. We’ll tell Luc and Gabrielle . . . and you, the whole story.”

  Rosemarie didn’t resist Ian as he walked her into the house with his arm around her shoulders.

  Luc and Gabrielle were in the living area sitting by the fireplace with Louis. Louis had started a small fire to warm up the room even though the room temperature already seemed comfortable enough.

  Luc stood as they entered the room, and asked, “What has happened?”

  “Please sit, Father, we have much to tell you,” answered Jacques.

  They all sat down. Ian told them he had been suspicious of Jean Fontaine’s claim to have forgotten about his arrangement to guard the merchant who was robbed the previous month. So, he and Jacques staked out the robbery site that morning, because Jean had taken another assignment to guard another merchant. They caught Jean in the acts of robbery and murder, arrested him, and turned him over to the Sheriff of Toulon.

  Gabrielle, sensitive to Rosemarie’s plight, left her seat by Luc and sat beside Rosemarie, put her arm around Rosemarie’s waist and let her cry on her shoulder.

  Having told their story, Ian started to excuse himself, but Jacques said, “We have some good news for Rosemarie . . . and the whole family.”

  Rosemarie stopped crying, but did not look up.

  “Ian and I made an arrangement with one Pierre LeBeau, the Captain of the good ship, Rose Blanche,” Jacques looked to Ian who nodded his assent to continue, then looked around to make sure everyone was paying attention, and they were, even Rosemarie.

  “We entered into a partnership with him to acquire a fleet of ships to carry pilgrims from France to the Holy Land and back. Land travel is arduous at best. We believe there are many knights and pilgrims of wealth who would prefer to not face the hardships and dangers along the road. We have gone into partnership for a second ship, and we will solicit passengers from our friends and neighbors to fill both ships. Whatever room is left over will be used for cargo. The ships will have designated sail dates from Marseille and Jerusalem for traveler planning and convenience. We see this as a wave of the future, rather than going to a pier and finding a ship for a particular destination each time one sails, it will be scheduled.”

  “Also, the passengers will embark on ships that are safe, and not have to worry about being robbed and thrown overboard by pirates, or worse,” Ian added. Ian did not mind that Jacques was stealing his thunder. He hoped Luc would be proud of Jacques for his business acumen.

  Luc, eager to inject himself into the discussion, blurted out, “But where will you get the money for a ship?”

  “We made some money by bringing spices from the Holy Land to France and escorting a Baronet from Jerusalem to Marseille. We will put it all against the down payment. Whatever you see fit to invest, father, or you, Louis, we would like to keep our business within the family,” Jacques replied.

  Luc looked to Gabrielle, “What do you think, my darling, should we become ship owners?”

  “I will agree to whatever you decide, my dear.”

  “Louis, how about you?” Jacques asked.

  “I’ve often longed to spend some time at sea these past few years. To be a part owner in a ship with you two scoundrels would be the answer to a lifelong fantasy.”

  Jacques and Ian had not rehearsed their approach to the family on their venture, and Ian had not thought out his next comment. “We hoped you would feel that way, Louis. We would like for you to escort Rosemarie to Marseille and meet with Captain Pierre LeBeau and formally seal our partnership.”

  Jacques looked at Ian with surprise, bordering on shock in his eyes, but held his tongue.

  Rosemarie, now all eyes and ears, said, “What role am I to play in this arrangement?”

  Ian stared into her eyes and replied, “We want you to manage the business and keep that scoundrel LeBeau honest. Can you do that?”

  “I will try.”

  “You must do more than try, you must do, with Louis’ help. But beware, Pierre LeBeau is a handsome rascal and may try to sweep you off your feet.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Rosemarie declared, a broad smile showing all of her small, but perfect teeth.

  “Louis, what say you?”

  “We’ll set off as soon as I can prepare us for travel.”

  “Excellent. LeBeau is having some repairs done to his ship and arranging for cargo and passengers, but he will not remain in Marseille any longer than necessary.”

  Anxious to get on to Ireland, Ian persuaded Rosemarie and Louis to accompany him and Jacques to Marseille where he and Jacques would introduce them to the infamous Captain LeBeau.

  They found the Rose Blanche pier side near the marketplace. Captain LeBeau, with his beard and mustache meticulously groomed and his land lubber clothes clean and pressed, cut a handsome figure. Rosemarie was captivated at first sight.

  Captain LeBeau ordered lunch for Louis, Rosemarie and himself, but Ian and Jacques declined.

  “Aren’t you going to participate in our partnership negotiations?” LeBeau asked Ian.

  “No sir, we want you to make all the agreements with Rosemarie and Louis. We’re silent partners. Louis and Rosemarie have our financial arrangements under their control.”

  “Aren’t you concerned that I might take advantage of Louis and your delightful sister?”

  “You should be concerned about them taking advantage of you, Monsieur,” said Jacques with a smirk.

  Rosemarie kicked Jacques in the shin.

  That afternoon, Jacques and Ian found a ship to take them to Ireland.

  Four

  “Why do you have to visit this girl? It’s been four years since you saw her last, for what, three days?” Jacques asked Ian.

  “I promised I would visit her on my return.”

  “A man who keeps his promises. I suspect something more.”

  “You would.”

  Ian and Jacques dismounted from their horses in front of a pub called the Prancing Dragon.

  “This must be the place.” Ian noted the ‘Closed’ sign on the entry door, but ignored it. As he entered the pub, the most delicious aromas wafted from the kitchen somewhere at the back of the pub. He noted the neatly arranged tables and chairs, with a tallow candle on each table. A small fire blazed in the large stone fireplace at one end of the room, and a card table and chairs occupied the other end. Six empty tall barstools were pushed up against the bar, and there were no customers, but the dinner hour was soon approaching.

  Jacques took a seat at one of the two person tables near the fireplace, placed his sword on the table, put his feet up on the second chair and made himself comfortable.

  Ian rang the small brass bell on the bar and waited for the response.

  A young woman, about twenty, with reddish blonde hair, dressed in a light green frock with lacy frills around the neck and the ends of the sleeves, burst into the room, and demanded, “We’re closed. Can’t you read the sign on the door?” Her lower jaw dropped as a sense of recognition passed over her. “Ian, it’s you!”

  Ian studied Fiona for a moment, unsure of wha
t to do or say. Then he stepped forward and reached out to hug her, but she backed away.

  Ian dropped his arms, “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  Fiona stepped forward slightly, and said, “Yes, but it’s been a long time.”

  A child, between four and five years old, peeked out from around his mother’s skirts and looked up at Ian with clear blue-green eyes. His wavy red hair had not been combed, but was tousled in a way that only looks good on a child.

  “I’ve traveled a long way to see you again . . . all the way from Jerusalem,” Ian protested in his own defense.

  “But why did you take so long?” Fiona stepped in a little closer to Ian.

  “I was on the Crusade to capture Jerusalem for the Pope and couldn’t return sooner, plus my brother, Jacques, sitting over there, and I had some pressing business in France.”

  Ian reached out to Fiona again.

  She moved in close enough for Ian to pull her in and hug her tight. She didn’t look up into his eyes, or allow him the opportunity to try for a kiss, but she did allow him to hug her for a long moment. The child managed to squeeze himself between Ian and Fiona.

  Fiona extracted herself from Ian’s hug, and said, “Please sit with your brother, and I’ll bring you both something hot to drink.”

  Ian backed away. “That would be nice. Thank you Fiona.” Ian reached down to pat the boy on the head, but the boy retreated, and followed his mother to the kitchen. Ian took a third cane backed chair from another table, sat at Jacques’ table and bided his time.

  Fiona returned with two steaming hot cups of barley tea and offered one to Ian and one to Jacques. She placed a creamer of goat’s milk on the table, sat down next to Ian and stared into his eyes.

  Ian felt uncomfortable under her steady probing gaze. He sipped the tea, and said, “This is delicious.”

  “I want to hear about your adventures. I have a few minutes before I open for supper at 6 P.M.”

  “Is this your pub?”

  “Yes, my dearly departed husband left it to me when he passed away. Bless his soul.”

  “And the child.”

  Fiona leaned in to Ian and whispered, “His name is Sean . . . He’s yours.”

  Ian almost spilled the hot tea on his lap.

  Jacques, who up to this time was disinterested in the conversation, sat up in his chair with an incredulous look on his face.

  “What? H. . . how can that be?” Ian asked.

  “For your information, our nights in the woods were more than just a romantic fling. Fortunately for me, as soon as I arrived in Dublin, I applied for a job as waitress in this pub, and the owner, my late husband, a widower, took an immediate liking to me. We were married within two weeks. He and everyone else assumed Sean was his.” Fiona watched Sean emerge from the kitchen, lowered her voice and said, “So, I’m a widow woman with a pub, and a small son to raise.”

  Ian stared at Fiona for a moment trying to absorb this revelation. Fiona had turned into a beautiful young woman, emerald green eyes, long reddish blonde hair, fine facial features and a twenty-year-old figure, enhanced slightly in bosom and hips by having borne a child. She would be a fine catch for any man. What if he would have followed her to Dublin instead of going on his pilgrimage? What would his life have been like?

  “Well, I have work to do, are you going to tell me anything, or are you going to sit there and stare at me like some imbecile?”

  “I’m sorry, Fiona, I was gathering cobwebs about what might have been. Can I help you ready the pub?”

  “Leave your armor in the kitchen, and I’ll put you to work.”

  Ian assisted with setting tables and preparing the food for the evening’s meal. Jacques removed his armor, laid it against the wall, sat at his table, and nursed two pints of Fiona’s home brew while he waited for supper.

  A man entered the pub and sat at a table in the corner away from Jacques. Fiona called to the man from the bar, “Shaunessy, we’re not open for business yet.”

  “Then why is that knight guzzling ale?”

  “He and his brother have traveled a great distance to visit me. I’m allowing them to rest before supper. Besides, his brother is helping me with the supper preparations, which is more than you’ve ever done.”

  Shaunessy, stood and replied in an indignant voice, “I pay my room and board on time, so you’ve no complaint with me.”

  Ian, having overheard Shaunessy, asked Fiona when she returned to the kitchen, “Is there a problem?” He continued to ladle scoops of delicious smelling hot lamb stew from the pot over the fire in the hearth into a large serving bowl.

  “Shaunessy thinks I’m obliged to him for his room and board.”

  “Is there more? Obliged in what way?” Ian’s ire started to boil.

  “I bolt my door at night. I think I’ve heard him creeping around in the hallway at night trying to see if he can get in.”

  “I can put a stop to that! Anything else?”

  Fiona hesitated, and then said, “Shaunessy moved into one of our rooms just before my husband was killed.”

  “How was he killed?”

  “He was taking our earnings to the bank one afternoon before the bank closed, and someone killed him and took the money. The robber was never caught, but Shaunessy has acted strange ever since. He may not have had anything to do with the robbery and murder. Right now he is my only paying lodger, so I don’t want to run him off without cause.”

  “Is there anything that would link the robber to the crime?”

  “The killer took my husband’s crucifix.”

  “Would you recognize the crucifix if you saw it again?”

  “Of course I would. I gave it to him.”

  “I’ll take Shaunessy a pint and size him up, if you don’t mind.”

  “Be careful.”

  Ian went to the bar, poured a pint with an inch-tall head and carried it to Shaunessy’s table. He offered the pint to Shaunessy who took it with a grumpy, “Arrh, it’s about time. You and your friend there will be moving on soon I take it.”

  “We have no plans to move on, sir. In fact, we might just settle in this pleasant little Irish town.” Ian watched for Shaunessy’s reaction.

  “Not much here for a couple of worldly knights like yourselves,” Shaunessy glared at Ian.

  Ian returned to the kitchen. “Fiona, do you have an extra room?”

  “I’m so glad you asked. Yes, I do.”

  “Good, Jacques and I will stay the night, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, you can.”

  “Let me wash dishes for you.”

  “I’ll still need to charge you for the room,” Fiona laughed and snapped at him with a bar rag.

  Ian laughed and dodged her towel snap. “We’ll be glad to pay.”

  After the last diner, Shaunessy, reluctantly left the pub for his room, Ian and Jacques helped Fiona gather up the dishes and clean the tables, floor, and dishes. Fiona put Sean to bed and returned for some late night conversation. She carried her own pint of ale to the table by the fireplace where Ian and Jacques waited. “Can I refill your pints?”

  “Fiona, sit awhile, and talk to us. We’re fully capable of refilling our own pints.” Ian pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit.

  “You still haven’t told me anything of your adventures, and I’ve been dying of curiosity all evening.”

  Ian and Jacques related some of their adventures as Crusaders capturing Jerusalem and now as Head Guards in Jerusalem, large responsibilities for two young knights. Each one bragged, or added personal touches to the stories the other told, but, neither Ian nor Jacques made any mention of Serena or Desiree, or of their mission to protect mankind.

  Tired of relating their adventures, Ian said, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

  “What do you want to know?” Fiona replied.

  “Do you have a beau?”

  Before she could answer, Ian continued, “You could probably have your choice of man
y acceptable young men.”

  “There is no one. I work all day long cooking and cleaning, and caring for Sean by myself. I don’t have time for a beau.” Her freckles blended into a slight blush.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” Ian encouraged. “I think there must be many eligible bachelors around here who would be happy to have you for their wife.”

  Uncomfortable with discussing her personal life any further, Fiona said, “It’s nearly midnight, my work starts at the cock’s crow with breakfast, so we should call it an evening.”

  Ian started whispering, “Not yet. Let’s take a quick minute to talk about what we’re going to do when we settle in tonight.” Ian looked up the stairs to insure Shaunessy was not listening in, then he explained his plan to Fiona and Jacques.

  Ian and Jacques quietly waited in Fiona’s room with the door unlocked. Fiona carried Sean, who was fast asleep in her arms, into one of the empty rooms. She lay down on the bed and immediately fell into the arms of Morpheus with Sean snuggled up tight against her.

  At about 1 A.M., Ian heard someone try the door to Fiona’s room and open it slightly ajar. Maintaining silence, Ian allowed the intruder to approach the bed in the dark, drop his drawers, and slip under the covers. Ian punched the intruder in the head multiple times. Jacques, who had been dozing in a rocking chair, ran to the bedside and quickly trussed up the intruder with a hemp rope. They dragged the intruder out of the room and tossed him down the stairs.

  Fiona woke up from the ‘bump-bump’ of Shaunessy bouncing down the stairs, jumped off the bed in the room Ian and Jacques rented for the night, covered Sean with a quilt, then ran down the stairs to the pub, where Jacques and Ian had lit a candle, and tied Shaunessy to a chair.

  “Hallo, Fiona, we tried not to wake you, but since you’re here, can you return to your room and retrieve Mr. Shaunessy’s trousers?”

  Fiona turned to leave.

  Ian asked, “Before you go, can you tell Jacques how to find the Constable?”

  “He lives only two blocks away.” Fiona gave Jacques specific directions to the Constable’s house with a description of the house.