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

   “Then he should be eliminated,” muttered Garcia.

   “He has had his uses over the years and shall do so again, of that I have no doubt.”

   “And what of the Master of the Keys? Have the Order never tried to capture him?” asked Sir Guarin.

   “Many have tried but the few who managed to return had all failed and faced the Grandmaster’s wrath. Most of them however, disappeared without trace. So now Sir Alejandro. You may understand with such a mentor, there is a reason why Commander Reynard is not so easy to capture,” answered Chevalier.

   “A fine tale. Who knows? We may well encounter this aged Master of the Keys on this very quest.” replied Garcia, his voice filled with sarcasm.

   “Maybe,” said Chevalier.

  The knight looked deep into the golden heart of the fire.

   “But if it is to be, I for one will have my sword held high and be prepared for no quarter.”

*****

Robert noticed how brown his exposed skin had become over his last few months in the southern peninsula’s kingdoms. He remembered back to the first time he had crossed the channel and had been surprised to see how quickly his skin had reddened and burnt from the hot sun before eventually turning a deep tan.

  Over the years back in the cooler climes of England his skin tone returned to its original white but now under the devilish sun he had no choice but to endure again the painful burning and subsequent peeling of his skin until it became accustomed to the regular elements of the region.

  It took them two days to reach the Christian armies. After spying the banners of Navarre which were to the west of the massive encampment they approached slowly, so as not to raise any alarm.

  The sight clearly unnerved Martin and the shepherd shifted uncomfortably in the saddle of the palfrey they had provided him with. Robert struggled to explain that the man would be safe with them, especially after being confronted by two perimeter patrols.

  However, when the shepherd saw the patrol lowering their arms and beckoning them forward he relaxed a little. They were escorted into the camp and then left to navigate their way through the endless sea of tents to the Forgotten Army’s plot.

   “Back so soon Robert?” said Alfonso, as he and his men dismounted.

   “Discovered something that might be of use to the Commander and maybe even the generals.”

   “Trouble?” asked the captain, glancing at the extra member of their group.

   “No trouble,” answered Robert, as he arched his back and stretched after so long in the saddle. “Quite the opposite actually, and your talents would be of huge value.”

  Robert beckoned Martin forward, explaining to the captain who he was, where they had found him and most importantly, that he did not speak a bloody word of their own language.

   “A valuable discovery indeed,” said Alfonso quietly.

  Taking a few steps forward, the captain extended his hand and started to speak to the shepherd in his own tongue.

   “Welcome friend Martin. You need not fear us. My name is Alfonso, would you care for some food and drink?”

  Although the stranger wore armour, Martin was quick to notice the trinkets of gold hanging from the warrior’s neck and the rings adorning his fingers. The newcomer nodded and hesitantly shook the captain’s hand.

   “By the way he’s eyeing up the trophies around my neck I’m pretty certain we know how to get him to talk anyway,” Alfonso said back to Robert.

   “That we do.”

   “And so he returns,” said the Commander, disguising his relief as Robert appeared.

  Reynard sat outside his tent with Hamish under a canvas that had been hitched up overhead to provide them with protection from the sun. Both had a goblet of wine in their hands.

   “Commander, this is Martin Halaja. We came across him beneath the mountain range south of here.”

   “So, you found a goat herder. What of it?” answered the Scotsman, eyeing up the shepherd.

   “Nice to see you’re in your usual jolly mood Hamish,” replied Alfonso.

  The Commander remained silent. His eyes rested on Martin for a moment and then returned to Robert. There was an expression of “And?” on his face.

   “We found him herding his sheep in a ravine that ran out of the mountains sir.”

  There was a faint change in the Commander’s eyes and Robert could tell that he had caught the man’s interest.

   “Scouting parties have returned saying that the few passes through the mountains are being watched and guarded by the enemy.” said Reynard.

   “From what we could gather from Martin, he has not seen the enemy on his route through the mountains. However our communication was limited hence the reason for bringing him back to camp,” replied Robert.

   “Alf, ask him if this ravine passes straight through to the other side of the mountains?”

  After confirming that the pass went from one side of the mountain range to the other, the questions continued. Reynard would ask, then Alfonso would translate question and answer.

  By the end of the gentle interrogation, Robert had placed another two gold coins in the shepherd’s hand. Reynard rose from his chair and looked carefully at the shepherd. Without a word he entered his tent and reappeared pulling on his surcoat and strapping his sheathed sword to his belt. He spoke again.

   “We must deliver this news to King Sancho immediately. Alf, Hamish, take command here. Rob, fetch your men.”

  It was odd for Robert to hear the Commander refer to the scouting party as his men but the two captains didn’t seem to care.

The King of Castile’s command tent was