by DAVID B. COE
“They’re Jews.”
Gaspar dipped his chin again. “Well, you will be avenged. Because of you, the Templars will be taken, and any with them will die, or be sold as chattel. Is that acceptable?”
For the first time since reaching the strand, Egan allowed himself a smile. “Yes.”
“I am so glad.”
Gaspar’s gaze shifted, and he gave a single sharp nod.
Someone grabbed his shoulder from behind. Before he could turn, agony exploded between his shoulder blades. It spread like white fire to his chest. His back arched, blood belched from his mouth. He couldn’t draw breath. His knees buckled and he dropped to the sand. Looking down, he wondered at what he saw. Something jutted from his chest. A blade, glistening with blood. His blood. He found Gaspar’s eyes with his own. Wanted to ask a question, but couldn’t form the words.
“You are a traitor, and not to be trusted. We will use what you have told us, but your life was forfeit the moment you resorted to treachery.” He looked to the man behind Egan and nodded again.
The sword was withdrawn. More torment.
Egan tried to breathe, but only inhaled blood. His vision blurred, dimmed. His body gave out, and he could do nothing to stop the fall. The last thing he felt was the sand rising to cushion his face.
Chapter 9
“We do not wish to be a burden to you,” Simon said. “But we have voyaged together for weeks, over many leagues, and through trials that would have overwhelmed others. Haven’t we proven ourselves?”
Godfrey let out a sigh, his expression pained. Landry didn’t envy him this exchange.
“You have proven yourselves again and again. Men and women both, from the oldest among you to brave Adelina.”
The girl smiled, blushed.
“But still, there are limits to how far we can take you. Our ship is too slow and too fragile to carry us all the way to France. These waters are perilous, as is the road to Bagras. We have only bad choices before us. We will not abandon you, but we cannot remain with you indefinitely. At some point, very soon I’m afraid, we must part company. Our place is with our Order, wherever we may find them. And we cannot assure your safety.”
“None of us has ever asked for such assurances.”
A sad smile alighted on Godfrey’s lips. “I know that. You are, all of you, too courageous to do so. Yet, we’d be remiss if we allowed any harm to come to you.”
“Where would you suggest we go?” Nila asked.
“That is up to you. You need not all go to the same place. I believe some or all of you would be safe here, in Rhosus. But this is far from your homes, and may not be to your liking.”
“That is what you would prefer,” Nila said. “Isn’t that so? You have spoken of going to Bagras, of joining the Templars there.”
“We have. But it seems the road to Bagras is more dangerous than we thought. We cannot bring any of you with us there. So, if you wish to leave Rhosus, we will forego Bagras for another Templar stronghold. Somewhere to the west, perhaps.”
“I have no desire to live among the Cilicians,” Simon said, “or the Turks, for that matter.” He glanced sidelong at Draper. “Forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Draper said.
“Can you take us as far as Crete, or even Athens?” Simon asked. “From there, we might secure passage to France, or another of Europe’s kingdoms.”
Godfrey looked to Tancrede, a question in his sky-blue eyes.
“That’s a long way,” the knight said. “In waters we know to be unsafe.”
“We can follow the shoreline,” Simon said. “At the first sign of danger, you can make for the nearest port and leave us there. But at least we would be a bit closer to our destination.”
Godfrey considered this. Tancrede gave a small hike of his shoulders, seeming to indicate that he thought it a reasonable suggestion.
“The rest of you want this as well?” Godfrey asked. “You would go to Crete?”
“They’re not all here,” Landry said, keeping his voice low so only Tancrede and the commander would hear.
“Who is missing?” Tancrede asked.
Landry wrinkled his nose.
His friend scanned the deck. “Egan?”
“For better or worse, he is under our protection.”
“For all we know, he’s not coming back.”
“He might.”
“Would you?”
Landry knew he was on the losing side of this argument. He himself didn’t much care about the man, but he did feel responsible for him.
“If he returns, he’ll go where the others go,” Tancrede said. “Or he’ll remain here. I feel no need to offer him more options than that.”
Godfrey had listened as they debated and now he looked a question Landry’s way.
“Very well,” Landry said.
The commander faced Simon and the others. “As I asked before: all of you would prefer Crete to this place?”
Every one of them signaled their agreement.
“Then so be it. Father Dawid should have provisions for us in the morning. Once they are on board the ship, we sail for Crete.”
“Will the Melitta sail with us?” Irène asked.
Landry recalled seeing her slip into the hold of the galley a few nights earlier, in the company of one of Killias’s crew. No one echoed her question, but Simon watched Godfrey with keen interest.
“We will speak with the captain. I would prefer to sail with their protection. The Tern is vulnerable on its own. But after all he and his crew have done for us, they owe us nothing more. It’s their decision to make. That is all,” he added after a pause. “We’ll eat in a short while.”
The passengers dispersed, as did most of the Templars. Godfrey, Tancrede, and Landry remained. Landry scanned the wharf in vain, searching for Egan.
“I would prefer to do this with the Melitta,” Tancrede said.
“So would I,” Godfrey said. “And I would rather chance the road to Bagras than any return to the sea.”
“There are other fortresses,” Landry said. “Perhaps we’ll find one along the Byzantine coast.”
“Perhaps. Come,” Godfrey said, treading a plank down to the wharf, “we should speak with Killias.”
Their conversation with the captain went better than Landry had imagined it might. Killias might have thought that the more aid he offered the Templars, the greater his reward would be. Whatever his calculation, he agreed immediately to accompany them on their westward voyage, stating that he had commerce he wished to conduct with merchants in Lamas, Anamur, Selinos, and several other sea towns along their route.
Landry wanted to ask what sort of business an avowed pirate would have with legitimate merchants, but he kept the question to himself. He was glad to have the galley as an escort. Nothing else mattered to him as much. Melitta, who followed their conversation from nearby, appeared pleased by her father’s decision, leading Landry to consider that her wishes might also have made Killias more receptive to the idea.
In short order, the Templars walked back to the Tern bearing good tidings.
They enjoyed a pleasant meal aboard the ship. As the night deepened, Irène and two other women made their way to the Melitta. Later, after Adelina had fallen asleep, Simon did the same. To Landry’s relief, the envy he experienced a few nights before did not resurface. Rather, his thoughts were consumed by concern for Egan.
When he spoke of this with Godfrey, the commander dismissed his worries much as Tancrede had.
“Why would he have stayed with us, Landry? He was hated by Simon and Adelina, looked upon with contempt by the others, and by us, if we’re to be honest. Not to mention that he was humiliated by Melitta. He has no reason to rejoin us. He probably recognized that Rhosus is as fine a place for him as any we might find. He’s not coming back.”
Landry could not fault his logic any more than he could Tancrede’s. But still, even after Godfrey left him by the rail, and on through the rest of the ni
ght until he finally fell asleep, Egan’s absence gnawed at him, not because he cared what happened to the man, but because he feared what Egan might do now that his fate was no longer tied to that of the Tern.
When morning broke, and Landry found that the man had not returned to the ship during the night, he accepted that his friends had been right. Egan wasn’t coming back. Still, his trepidation lingered and deepened.
After matins, the Templars crossed through the town back to the church they had visited the night before. Father Dawid awaited them there with a cornucopia of meats, cheeses, fruits, greens, breads, and wine, as well as additional coin with which to replenish their stores over the course of their voyage. Landry had been sure the priest would do his best to help them, but he had not expected that he and his flock could provision them so lavishly.
“We cannot thank you enough,” Godfrey told him. “You have my word, as a Templar, that you shall be rewarded for your generosity, above and beyond whatever this cost you.”
“You are kind, Brother Godfrey. We do this to honor God and your service to Him.” A mischievous smile stole across his face. “But we will gladly accept those rewards, when they are bestowed. In the meantime, pray with me once again before you go.”
“It would be our pleasure.”
The knights entered the church and knelt before the altar as the priest led them in prayer. Then they gathered what Father Dawid had given them and made their way back to the ship, each Templar laden with some of their bounty. With the help of Simon and their other charges, they stowed the food and wine in the hold. As they did this, Landry’s thoughts turned again to Egan. He had to admit that he would rest easier at night, knowing the man was not aboard the ship, and thus not a danger to Adelina or their precious stores.
Tancrede oversaw the preparation of the ship for departure. Godfrey sent word to the Melitta that they would soon be ready to leave port.
The morning had dawned clear and warm. A steady breeze blew out of the north, and the bay was calm. They could not have asked for a better day on which to commence their voyage. All of them were in high spirits, and why not? They had food, wind to fill their sails, and a destination from which they might eventually reach their homes.
Landry’s shoulder had not pained him in several days, and so when it came time to row the Tern away from the wharf, he insisted on taking up an oar himself. Draper disapproved, but Landry didn’t care. He did feel a twinge or two as they oared the ship into the bay, but he bore them in silence.
Once they were on open water, Tancrede had Victor and Thomas raise their sail. Within seconds of being unfurled it had swelled with wind, propelling the ship forward. The repaired mast held.
Ahead of them, the crew of the Melitta raised her sails as well, and together the two vessels cut through the placid waters of Armenian Bay toward the Mediterranean.
* * *
Adelina stands at the prow of their ship, her father behind her, both his hands on her shoulders. The sea sparkles before them, as if strewn with diamonds. Her hair dances in the wind, and occasionally, if a swell slaps the hull just the right way, a spray of seawater dampens her face. Each time this happens, she laughs aloud.
She has been of two minds about going back out to sea. She fears another storm. She does not wish to be driven below into the hold to endure again the sickening lurch of rough waters. On the other hand, her father tells her that they are headed to a land named Crete, a place of legend, of glorious art and ancient treasures. A place from which they can commence the final leg of their journey to France. Adelina thinks she could suffer through ten storms for that.
Mostly, she is happy that Egan is gone. She knows this is uncharitable of her. She tries to tell herself that she wishes him no ill, but is merely glad he is gone. She is not certain, though, that this is true.
As the Tern emerges from the bay and angles westward onto the sea, the water becomes somewhat more turbulent. Not enough to worry her or make her ill, but enough to drench her and her father with each rise and fall of the sea. They retreat to the middle of the ship.
Adelina wants to go farther back so that she can watch Tancrede work the rudder, but her father asks her to sit with him near the hatch.
Even after she does so, he does not say anything. His dark eyes scan the sea, and wind ruffles his brown curls. She senses that he wants to ask her something, but she waits, and he remains silent.
“Father?” she says after a time.
He answers with a nervous laugh, brushes a strand of hair from her brow. “You look so much like your mother.”
“You’ve told me.”
“So I have.” He heaves a breath and glances ahead of them in the direction of the Melitta. “I’m wondering…” He breaks off with a small shake of his head. Laughs again. Adelina has never seen him like this.
“Are you all right, Papa?”
“I’m fine, yes. I—I wonder… what you think of Melitta.”
Adelina frowns. “The ship?”
His laugh this time is stronger, more like his usual one. But his face reddens. “No, not the ship. The woman.”
“I like her,” Adelina says. “She’s nice to me, and she… What she did to Egan…”
“She was your champion, wasn’t she?”
The only one. She did more for me even than you did. “Yes, she was,” is all she says.
“I believe, in her own way, she championed both of us. I’m grateful to her. And… and I care about her, Adelina. Very much.”
Understanding breaks over her like a wave. She can do no more than stare at him, her mouth open. She is embarrassed and frightened and thrilled and too uncertain of herself to speak a word.
“She and I have… well, we have spent some time together, and we have talked about a good many things. Including you, of course. She is very fond of you.”
Adelina’s eyes well, and tears spill down her cheeks. She cannot say why she is crying. “Do you love her?” she asks in a quavering voice.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I might.”
She wants to ask how he can be unsure of such a thing, but the words will not come.
He reaches for her and starts to say something more, but Adelina has heard enough. She runs from him, ducks down through the hatch and into the hold, and throws herself onto her blanket on the old wooden floor. There she balls herself up, much the way she did the night Egan accused her of stealing, and she cries until her throat aches. In time, she falls asleep.
* * *
Landry did not mean to eavesdrop, but it was a small ship and, as usual, he stood with Tancrede near the stern. Both heard much of what Simon said to the girl.
When Adelina broke away from him and sprinted down into the hold, Simon started to follow.
“Let her go,” Tancrede said, sympathy in his voice.
Simon regarded them both, then looked toward the hatch.
“She will come back up eventually,” the lean knight went on. “But she is not yet ready to hear all that you have to say to her.”
The man dipped his chin in agreement and then shook his head, appearing to argue with himself. “I didn’t think she would be so unhappy. She likes Melitta. I know she does.”
“Liking her is one thing. Accepting her as her new mother? That is quite another.”
Simon glanced up at that. “I never said that I intend to marry her.”
“You said enough to lead her thoughts there.”
“I suppose so. She has always been quick, just like her mother.” He walked to where Landry and Tancrede stood, and leaned on the rail like a man weary from battle. “We’ve been alone a long time, Adelina and I. A girl needs a mother, as well as a father.”
“Even if that mother is a pirate?” Tancrede said.
A reluctant grin split Simon’s face. “Yes, even so.” His smile fell away, his eyes darting between the knights. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t burden you with these concerns. Especially since…” He trailed off, appearing discomfited.
&
nbsp; Tancrede shifted the rudder slightly, keeping the ship in line with the Melitta. “Our vows of celibacy do not change the fact that we are men. We probably understand you better than you imagine. Isn’t that so, Landry?”
Landry offered a weak smile, hoping this would suffice. Truth be told, he had never been in love, which might be why he was so jealous of Simon when first they encountered the galley and the captain’s beguiling daughter.
“You would marry?” Tancrede asked, filling a lengthening silence.
“Maybe,” Simon said. “I don’t know. But we have spoken of Adelina and me remaining with her when the rest disembark at Crete.”
“A girl on a pirate ship?” Landry asked.
“A merchant ship, actually. Melitta would give up pirating and she and I would sail and trade together.”
“Still, life at sea might be hard on the girl.”
“That was my thought as well. But Melitta tells me she was but a year or two older than Adelina when she began to sail with her father. It is not as far-fetched a notion as we would believe.”
“Cousins of mine grew up on ships,” Tancrede said. “There are worse fates for children.”
Simon’s expression brightened, and for some time none of them spoke. Tancrede continued to follow the bearing established by Killias. The sun turned a slow arc overhead. The wind remained steady.
Landry couldn’t say what it was that made him look back. He sensed no danger, had no reason to believe they might be pursued. But as soon as he peered back, beyond Tancrede at the open sea behind them, he spotted the ship.
It appeared to be another galley, similar in shape and size to the Melitta. Its sails were struck; the vessel bristled with oars. Those within the ship seemed to row with purpose. It trailed the Tern by some distance, but given the way it carved through the swells, it wouldn’t take the vessel long to overtake them.
“Tancrede,” he said, and pointed.
His friend paid no attention to him. Rather, he whispered, “What is she doing?”
Landry whirled to follow the direction of his gaze. The Melitta was in mid-turn. As he watched, men struck her sails and others went to sweeps. Beyond the Melitta, Landry glimpsed a second vessel. Or rather, a third. Yet another galley, also on sweeps, also approaching at speed.
