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

flames lit up the faces of the two long-haired warriors, red rubies glittering in their left ears. Their armour was familiar and the medallions hanging around their necks were much like those Robert kept in a chest back home. A nostalgic reminder of his travels.

  He recognised the taller of the two. Athaelstan had been part of the troop Robert had chosen to accompany Alfonso to meet with the unsavoury Sir Jean-Claude.

   “You’re Varangians aren’t you?” asked Robert.

   “We were. Until that fool of a usurper cast out all those who had served the last three Emperors,” said Ridley bitterly.

   “Which included over half of us. We were given the choice, defend the borders that adjoined with the Hungarian Empire or find new employment,” continued Athaelstan.

  Robert remembered the Emperor’s bodyguard well. They were strong and fearless, all of them of Viking and Saxon descent. He and Jimmy had encountered them in the second assault on the Byzantine capital.

   “And this is Guy,” said Jimmy.

   “Guy de Bois,” the man said, correcting Jimmy humbly. “An honour to meet you Sir Robert.”

  The man spoke with a strong French accent, he was clean shaven and well kept, most likely a Norman or Frank. He wore a black leather jerkin with rows of iron studs upon it and a pair of animal hide hose.

   “Rob will suffice Guy,” replied Robert.

  It turned out that Guy had fought in Palestine for a short time, serving as a squire, before he returned to France when he received news that his father was dying.

   “By the time I had returned, my father had died and my uncle had laid claim to our family’s lands and title. He had built alliances with the neighbouring lords, flattering them with gifts.”

  The man looked icily into the fire.

   “I hadn’t the money to buy men-at-arms to take back what was rightfully mine. I had not yet earned the honour of knighthood yet, so I sought out the fabled Forgotten Army, who I knew were crossing through France at the time.”

   “And what will you do, when you earn enough coin to employ your own men?”

   “I will return to my home and sever my uncle’s head,” he said coldly.

  Jimmy chuckled.

   “Told you he would fit in well,” he said.

  Robert smiled, these three would do.

*****

Early the next morning the Commander, his captains and Robert made their way into the overflowing city of Toledo. They were accompanied by Ruscar and four others, including the young mercenary who had acted as the Commander’s squire the previous day. The young warrior held the Commander’s pennant up high.

  The city was filled with knights, men-at-arms, merchants, traders, and pilgrims. Even on their horses and wearing the surcoats of a noble house, it was difficult to squeeze through the crowd.

  They slowly managed to move into some of the quieter streets, and came across one of the trading quarters. Luck had seemed to have favoured them. Amongst the small row of stalls was a seamstress sitting in the open front of a small workers shed. At the time she seemed to be half way through making a dress of some sort. In the back of the open shelter, they could spy another three younger girls at work.

   “Good morrow my lady,” said Alfonso courteously.

  The seamstress looked up warily at the mounted soldiers and bowed her head nervously.

   “There is no need to be afraid,” smiled the Italian.

  Knowing that time was of the essence, the captain explained their predicament and asked whether the seamstress could gather enough hands to help her make nearly three hundred surcoats. He showed her the silver which made her gasp and when he presented her with a handful of coins and promising the same again when the job was completed. She bobbed a curtsy and assured them that their wishes would be fulfilled.

  The Commander was hesitant about leaving the lady alone with such wealth. It was not because he did not trust her, but gossip was dangerous and a lone woman, receiving such an amount of coin could well bring trouble.

  Explaining their concern, Alfonso said they would leave behind two of their men to safeguard the seamstress, while she and her maidens went to work.

   “Well that was quicker than I expected,” said the Commander.

   “Aye it was,” replied Hamish.

   “That quick actually, that I am confident that you and Alf will be able to seek out another eager pair of hands, who can assemble enough surcoats for the cavalry division also.”

   “Oh what a joy,” said the Scotsman sarcastically. “And where are you bound while we are on our special mission?”

   “I have some other business to attend to. Robert, you and Ruscar can accompany me, you two will continue with the captains,” he said to the make-do squire and the other.

   “Rob, give them your surcoat,” said the Commander.

  Robert had grown fond of the gift that his sisters had given him, but handed it to Hamish.

   “I need a dozen of these made as well,” continued the Commander.

  The captains did not enquire why. It was not their business and they did not care. They said their farewell and agreed to meet the Commander back at the camp. After the captains and their two followers continued back into the rabble on the main streets the Commander led Robert and the faithful Ruscar to the eastern sector of the city.

   “So what are we looking for?” asked Robert.

   “The Chapel of Santiago,” murmured the Commander, as he tried to get his bearings.

  They continued down streets and alleys for another ten minutes until the Commander finally spied the small church.

   “Ah ha. Here we are.”

  As the three men dismounted,