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

while finally they agreed that Robert and Athaelstan would ride east and Cherik and Jurgen would go west. Jimmy had tried to object but was then reasoned with by Robert who assured him they would take turns staying at camp.

  Satisfied, the seven of them settled down early, eager to get some rest, ready for an early rise and a full day in the saddle.

Breakfast at daybreak was an unpleasant affair, consisting of stale bread and hard cheese. The cool temperature provided by the mountain’s shadow was quickly chased away by the sun which started to creep over the plains, revealing a bright blue sky with not a cloud to be seen.

  Not long into their journey, Robert and Athaelstan covered their heads with scarves to protect themselves from the scorching sun. It was nearing midday when they came across a welcome thin stream that led from the mountain. The small flow of water trickled through high jagged crevices and settled into a small pool.

  Robert dismounted and led Jupiter to the pool allowing him to drink greedily. He stood for a moment and stared into the wide gap in the rocks through which the water flowed. Something caught his attention and he went a little closer.

   “Something wrong Rob?” asked Athaelstan.

  The Varangian veteran was kneeling at the water filling his water skin. Alongside him was his own mount which was also slurping up the treasured water.

   “Not sure, not yet anyway,” Robert replied looking about him. “Can you hear that?”

  They could hear the faint sound of someone talking. Peering round they spied a man herding a flock of sheep on a path through the rocks towards the fresh water pool. The shepherd had been too busy concentrating on keeping his flock from scattering to notice the two warriors ahead. Keeping up a steady stream of gentle chat to his sheep, the sound had travelled through the ravine bouncing against the rocks to cause an echo.

  When he looked up and finally caught sight of them, he froze and stared in silent fear.

  Robert quickly held up his hands to show he meant no harm and Athaelstan followed suit. The two of them moved forward slightly but Robert, fearing the local would flee, called out in the local tongue. He had picked up a couple of words and phrases while in Toledo.

“Hola! No queremos hacerte dano.”

   “What did you say to him?”

   “I think I said hello and we meant him no harm,” he replied.

  Although he had not run yet, the man was obviously agitated.

   “Slowly disarm yourself,” said Robert quietly.

  The two of them unbuckled their belts and Athaelstan lifted his baldric from over his shoulder which carried his axe and hunting knife. They halted for a moment and laid them on the floor before continuing forward.

  Feeling a little reassured the shepherd hesitantly stepped forward and bowed to the two men in armour. When they were close enough, Robert cursed himself for not remembering more of the local language. Instead he gestured to himself and gave his name and then to Athaelstan and gave his.

   “Martin Halaja,” the shepherd replied.

  Robert smiled and held out his hand which the shepherd slowly took. He then followed by shaking Athaelstan’s hand a little more confidently.

   “Ask him if he lives in these parts?” said Athaelstan, wearing an over-exaggerated smile on his face.

  Finally making the man understand, Martin nodded and pointed back at the gully that ran through the mountain range. There followed much sign language, hand waving, nodding of heads and shrugging of shoulders.

   “Do you think he knows a way through?”

   “He may do.”

  Robert retrieved a leather pouch from his belt and took a gold coin from inside. The shepherd’s eyes lit up, he had obviously never seen such wealth before. Handing it to the man Robert gestured that he come with them.

  Collecting their weapons, the two mercenaries and their new guest made their way over to the watering hole.

   “Ride back to the camp and bring a horse for him,” Robert said to Athaelstan.

   “Can he be trusted?”

   “He’d be a fool to try anything. Now be quick. I’d like to be back at the camp by nightfall.”

By mid-afternoon Athaelstan had returned with one of the palfreys they had taken from the enemy scouting party. With a little persuasion, mostly by the jingling of coin in Robert’s leather purse, Martin had agreed to leave his flock to fend for itself and ride back with them. Even with the one gold coin he had already been given he would be able to buy three times the amount of sheep if he wished.

  Arriving back at the camp, they saw the brothers had already returned and that there was something cooking over the fire.

   “Anything west?” asked Robert, as he dismounted.

   “Nothing. But who do we have here?” replied Cherik curiously.

   “This is Martin. He’s a local shepherd. But he’s still a bit wary at the moment, so be gentle.”

   “Wary? He looks scared shitless,” said Jimmy with a grin.

   “Well the gold in his pocket seemed to be enough to encourage him to come and meet you butchers. Give him food and drink. Tomorrow we ride north and find the army’s vanguard.”

   “You’re taking a gamble here Rob,” said Jurgen.

   “True. But if we’re not quick, the armies will divert either east or west, and this is a man who may know a way through the mountains.”

*****

Two days had passed since the three men-at-arms had been tasked with capturing the Commander alive. But still no word. The three had been some of the finest veteran fighters of The Order.

   “So it seems your latest effort to capture this Commander has failed also?” mocked