The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) James Mercer (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📖

as he would like to think anymore. He has Ruscar; he has his small cluster of loyal butchers. But he needs you at his side more than ever.”

  Robert clasped the captain’s arm and squeezed it tight.

   “You have my word Alfonso.”

Robert mounted Jupiter and looked with satisfaction at the group of men who would accompany them to the lands of the Cathar. Besides his scouting party, consisting of the Gutsberg brothers, the two Varangians, Guy and Jimmy, they were also joined by Ruscar, Christoph and John. All of them had donned their Crusader surcoats to avoid trouble while travelling through the Christian territories.

  With a final nod to the captain, the Commander gave the order to move out. Cristoph had been charged with holding the Commander’s pennant and proudly rode a little ahead of the small procession.

  Robert and the Commander rode in the middle of the group while Selva was placed at the rear in the company of Athaelstan. Despite his terrifying presence on a battlefield, the scarred warrior had a gentle side to his nature, and was the natural bodyguard for her.

   They had only travelled for half hour before Christoph stopped his mount and called back that there were two men ahead of them. Telling the men to be on their guard the Commander ordered they continue to approach the pair. As they neared, Robert recognised Sir Tomas accompanied by a man maybe the same age as John. Most likely the knight’s squire.

   “You bring a larger group than I expected.” Sir Tomas said guardedly.

   “I would trust these men with my lives. What they see and hear on this quest, they will utter not a word to any other,” replied the Commander.

   “And you can be sure of that?”

   “Put it this way Sir Tomas, if we are to encounter any who oppose us, including those who want your people eliminated, these men could cut down twice their number and no one would hear anything about it as they drink a tavern dry afterwards,” answered Robert.

  The knight grunted. He did not admit it but each man looked strong and well equipped. Maybe the Brotherhood knight was right. Then his eyes fell upon the stranger at the rear.

   “And the maiden?”

   “She is none of your concern. But she is under my protection and I can assure you, she will neither hinder our journey and may prove more useful than you’d think.”

   “Very well, then let us begin.”

  The Cathar knight turned his horse to fall in by the Commander and Robert. Meanwhile his squire moved further to the front to take up his position near to where Christoph was waiting.

  The sun started to climb into a cloudless sky; the day would be a hot one and the men were thankful they had not worn their full suits of armour. Water was going to have to be rationed until the next town or village, and the men were experienced enough not to risk parched throats with idle chatter. They eyed the newcomer with suspicion, Ruscar in particular, and kept his Persian bow close at hand.

  The three knights also rode in silence. Each had his own reasons for taking on this mission, and each knew there would be challenges, hardship, but, in the end, hopefully success. Robert turned in his saddle to check Selva was alright and she smiled as he winked at her before turning back.

  He suddenly felt a huge surge of optimism and realised he would not, at that moment, have wanted to be anywhere else. Whatever the future held they faced it together.

 

EPILOGUE

Burgos, Kingdom of Castile, November, 1212

Anzac watched from the inner fortress wall as the castle’s guards searched the gardens below. The alarm had sounded that the prisoner had escaped leaving two men dead in his wake. The priest and his small entourage had bypassed the great city of Burgos. The mighty castle within the city had stood as a bastion of safety for the Christians ever since the Moors had landed on the southern shores of the peninsula.

  Anzac and his fellow travellers had taken up residence in a small well-fortified manor a few miles east of the city. It was a comfortable place and judging from the luxuries within, profitable as well. The lord of the manor had been a little apprehensive when the visitors first arrived, but seeing it was a priest accompanied by knights of the Crusade, he had little choice but to offer them guest rights.

They had been there three days before the priest had put his plan into action. A bright moon lit up the grove below and men with torches could be seen searching the grounds. The scrape of boots on the stone walkway sounded nearby and he was joined by his travelling companion.

   “You are taking a great risk Bernard,” said Sir Frederick, standing beside him.

   “I know.”

   “The knight has killed two of the baron’s guards and injured another already.”

   “Then he should have trained his men better,” answered Anzac calmly.

  Schaffer had not seen this darker side to his friend for several years. He knew that the priest would do almost anything to carry out his sacred duty but even the ruthless knight felt a little uncomfortable.

   “You are concerned I have gone too far?” asked Anzac.

   “Would it be wrong if I said yes?”

  Neither man had looked at each other once; instead they continued to scan the landscape below.

   “You loosened the hinges to the postern gate?”

  When Anzac had been perfecting his plan, he had discovered that the hinges and bolt to the manor walls’ secondary exit had rusted to the extent that the door was almost sealed tight. He had tasked Schaffer with discreetly easing the door