by DAVID B. COE
Kad steered their ship clear of the wreckage and the survivors, angling it toward Melitta’s vessel, which had turned again and was easing in their direction. The second pirate ship continued its retreat, showing no inclination to double back and offer aid to the men from Gaspar’s vessel.
Landry and the other Templars checked their ship’s hull to make certain no pirate was trying to gain access to their deck. Seeing no one, they moved forward to the prow to greet Melitta and the crew of her ship.
In short order, the two ships had lashed themselves together far enough from the ruined ship and its unfortunate crew to know they would not be boarded.
The Templars were welcomed aboard Melitta’s vessel. Some of the men they saw there Landry recognized from the crew of Killias’s vessel. Others he had never seen before. Melitta herself appeared none the worse for whatever had befallen her since their last encounter.
She asked them how they had escaped Redman and they related their tale, one knight picking up the account where the last left off. When they were done, Godfrey asked for her story.
Melitta lifted a shoulder, her gaze wandering over the open sea. “There is not much to it, really. After Redman killed my father, he took the rest of us as hostages, as he did you. Us he sold to slavers. It seems that by myself I brought him a lot of gold. The man who was captain of this vessel thought to make me a personal prize, and he had me brought to his chamber – to his bed – that first night.” She flashed a quick, mischievous smile, her eyes finding Landry. “Your vows of celibacy might not be such a bad idea after all, Templar.”
She reached into her bodice, and pulled from between her breasts a small, wickedly sharp blade. She produced a second, similar knife from a hidden sheath at the small of her back.
“The captain didn’t survive the night. When I was certain that most of his crew had taken to their pallets, I snuck from his chamber and freed the men who had been part of my father’s crew. Together we took the ship. The slavers we didn’t kill, we threw overboard. The men they had intended to sell were more than willing to join us as free sailors. We’ve been searching for Redman and his ships ever since.
“To be honest, I never thought to see any of you alive again, or else we would have been looking for you. My father…” She steadied herself with a breath. “He counted you as allies. I would as well.” She smiled again. “If you’ll deign to ally yourselves with a pirate, and a woman at that.”
“We would be honored,” Godfrey said, speaking for all of them.
Melitta’s smile faded, leaving her looking grave, and lovely, and very young. “Have you had any word from Simon and Adelina?”
Godfrey shook his head, sympathy in his pale eyes. “We have not. I’m sorry. If it is any consolation to you, I believe them to be safe. I expect they’re on their way to Paris, even as we speak.”
“That’s good,” she said. The words seemed to come at some cost. “That’s… I’m glad.”
* * *
Melitta’s ship carried food, healing herbs, and clean cloth for bandages. For much of the day, men from her crew tended to the wounds of the Templars, Kad, and his sailors, which were numerous and, in some cases, severe. Landry’s injury demanded a good deal of attention. Even after the poultices and bandages had been set in place, the pain in his side deepened.
Every movement hurt; every muscle in his body felt as though it had been abused.
Still, a decent meal of fish stew and well-watered liquor did much to raise his spirits. He slept that night on a comfortable pallet, beneath a blanket that was both whole and free of vermin. After all he had been through, he could ask for little more.
The following morning, Melitta joined the Templars on their ship.
“Where do you intend to go from here?” she asked.
Godfrey didn’t bother to consult with the others. “Home,” he said. “Paris.”
She faced Kad. “And you?”
He shrugged. “I hadn’t given the matter much thought. I’ve been sailing these waters for years. I’m not in any rush to leave. Especially with Redman gone.”
Melitta nodded at this, thoughtful. “I would see you to the French coast,” she said after a time, turning back to Godfrey and the other Templars. “I believe my father would expect no less of me. After that, I plan to return here, and continue as he would have.” She cast another sly look at Kad. “I’ll need men to crew my ships. I might even need a captain or two, if you’re interested.”
“I would answer to you?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
“Not necessarily. I’ve just never taken orders from a woman before.”
Melitta nodded, her expression unchanged. “I see. I take it, then, that you’ve never been wed.”
Once their laughter subsided, Kad agreed to her offer. So, too, did Godfrey. The Templars were too few, and too weakened by their captivity, to sail themselves back to France. All of them knew it. Landry welcomed their escort with a profound sense of gratitude; to Melitta, to her crew, to the Lord.
They ate a small breakfast, and passed much of the morning enjoying the sun, the wind, and the mere fact of their freedom. Sea eagles circled above the sea, halfway between the ship and the shoreline. Occasionally they plunged into the water, some emerging with fish clutched in their talons, others laboring into the sky once more, their efforts unrewarded.
Another meal at midday was more than Landry could stomach. It wasn’t that he felt ill. But he had gone so long without proper nourishment that his appetite had yet to return. He knew it would, but for now he sipped his watered spirit and contented himself with a small morsel of fruit. He noticed that the other Templars did much the same.
Late in the afternoon, with the sun low in the west, its golden glow gilding the ships and deepening the blue of sea and sky, the Templars gathered near the prow of their ship. All of them bore cuts and bruises. Gawain and Godfrey both walked with pronounced limps. The men who had been subjected to Redman’s torture still had not gained full use of both hands. Landry’s side ached.
Yet all of them wore smiles. It seemed to Landry that years had been lifted from Godfrey’s shoulders. Draper, Nathaniel, and Tancrede laughed at a joke Landry hadn’t heard. Even Gawain, usually so somber, appeared at ease.
Their conversation, though, soon shifted to matters of weight.
“I do not know what awaits us in Paris,” Godfrey said. “But whatever we find there we will face together, as always.”
“We have unfinished business in the Holy Land,” Gawain said.
Landry nodded. “Indeed.”
Godfrey opened his hands. “That is not for me to say.” Gawain started to argue, but the commander continued over him. “If I thought we could recover the Grail, I would turn this ship myself and sail us back to Acre. For all we know, the Grail was destroyed. As for our return to the Holy Land, that is for men far wiser and more influential to decide. We will go back to Paris, and we will do whatever the Master of the Temple asks of us.”
“Do you think he’ll send us this way again?” Landry asked. “Do you think the Pope intends a new Crusade?”
Godfrey shook his head. “I don’t know. Such questions are beyond us. We are Templars. We serve the Temple and the Catholic Church, by the grace of God.”
“By the grace of God,” the others echoed.
“In the meantime, we will rest, and recover, and regain our strength. Because I promise you, whether in France, or in the Holy Land, or somewhere we can scarcely imagine, we will have need of all our skills before long. Such is the world we live in.”
None of them dared argue, hearing the truth in Godfrey’s words.
The commander lowered himself to one knee. “Pray with me, brothers.”
Landry and the others knelt as well. And as the sun dipped to the horizon, and the sky darkened, they thanked God for their deliverance and asked His protection for whatever awaited them on the morrow.
Acknowledgments
Deepes
t thanks to the good people at the Jessie Ball duPont Library of the University of the South, in Sewanee, Tennessee. I’m grateful as well to HISTORY® and A+E Networks® for trusting me with this project and allowing me access to series scripts and all the first season episodes well before they aired.
I’m grateful as ever to my wonderful agent, Lucienne Diver, and to Gary Budden, Miranda Jewess, Laura Price, and all the great people at Titan Books.
Finally, and always, my deepest gratitude is reserved for Nancy, Alex, and Erin. They make everything else possible, and infinitely more fun.
About the Author
David B. Coe is the award-winning author of more than twenty books and as many short stories, spanning historical fiction, epic fantasy, contemporary fantasy, and the occasional media tie-in. His novels have been translated into more than a dozen languages. He has a Master’s degree and Ph.D. in U.S. history, and briefly considered a career in academia. He wisely thought better of it. He and his family live in the mountains of Appalachia.
Visit him at http://www.davidbcoe.com.
