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

to your men Rob. After all these years, ‘tis time my stubborn old teacher saw the ferocity and skill the men of The Forgotten Army have.”

*****

Robert’s farewell to Selva the following morning had been difficult. She did not weep, but gripped his hands tightly and made him swear to return to her. As he made the promise there were so many other things he wished to say, but infuriatingly found impossible to articulate.

   “I will return. Stay close to Alfonso and Clutter. They will protect you.”

   “May God protect you,” she replied, kissing him one last time.

  On his return from his meeting with Sir Arnaud, Robert had told his small troop of men to gather at the paddock, fully armed and ready to ride. While most of them were eager to be on the move again, Cherik and Jimmy were a little more reluctant about being in the saddle so soon. As he watched the six of them arrive in pairs, he quickly saw that some were in better condition than others, most of it self-inflicted. Cherik in particular was pasty and hollow eyed, recovering from his antics from the previous night.

  The signs of the battle was still evident on some of his fellows. Jurgen sported a fine cut on his brow, Athaelstan’s neck was a dark purple and although it could not be seen, Robert was well aware that Guy had been dealt a neat slice to his side during the battle. At first Robert was wary about taking him but Guy had pleaded to accompany them, promising he would not hold them up.

  The rest of their injuries were much like Robert’s. Aches and pains that were deep in their muscle and joints or bruises that covered their bodies, but proved that the armour they had worn that day was of fine quality.

  Robert had rehearsed his mock story, which he would tell his comrades, several times. It did not feel right having to lie to them, but it was the only way to have some of the finest warriors in the army ride by his side to face the Order and their allies.

   “So where to then?” asked Jimmy as he stretched his back.

   “The Commander has asked that we accompany him and some others to the town of Baeza,” answered Robert.

   “Baeza. Is that not still under Almohad control?” said Guy surprised.

   “It is, but word has reached the generals that the garrison there is small, and the word of our victory over the Caliph may encourage them to abandon the town and seek refuge at the castle of Burgalimar.”

   “So is that it? A bit of reconnaissance and take it if its garrison has buggered off?” said Cherik groggily.

   “No Cherik. That’s not our mission at all,” came the voice of the Commander.

  As they turned to face him, they saw that the Commander approached them in the company of a dozen or so men, all of them well equipped. The men at the rear were leading two horses carrying supplies.

  Leading at the front on foot was the Commander with Ruscar on his left and two knights on the right. Both of them were known to Robert but not his men. Apart from the two young men behind them, who led two horses apiece, Robert and his fellows recognised the other men. They were other warriors from the Commander’s own unit.

   “Right then lads, I’ll make this quick because we have to be on our way. This is Sir Arnaud Taillefer and Sir Edward Fitz-Barone. We will be escorting them beyond the camp and south. We display no banners, no surcoats. Is that understood?”

  The men nodded. There would be no objection to the loss of surcoats.

   “Got something special for us then sir?” grinned Cherik.

   “Special enough to fill your pockets Gutsberg, aye,” replied the Commander.

  Robert noticed the look of disapproval etched on Sir Arnaud’s face. He did not know him well but Robert liked the disgruntled, honourable Master of the Keys. He slightly reminded him of his own father. But different to Sir Roger, Sir Arnaud, like many knights, looked down at men who were just swords for hire. Yet it mattered not. For soon, Sir Arnaud Taillefer and his Brothers would see that the warriors of Reynard Sancerre could best the finest of knights.

   “A group of renegade knights and men-at-arms have abandoned the campaign and gone on to pillage and destroy Baeza. We have been tasked to stop them and if needs be, kill them,” said the Commander.

   “Why all the fuss sir? Surely the King wishes to proceed south with the campaign. Why not let these men be the instrument to do it?” asked Jurgen.

   “Such an act without the express permission of the King or his generals is an act of treason and punishable by death,” answered Sir Arnaud. “More importantly, such actions could cause a ripple effect amongst the entire army. If others hear that fellow knights are charging off and coming away with riches and ransoms, many others could follow. This would leave the army more vulnerable than it is already.”

   “Vulnerable? Haven’t we just defeated their army?” replied Guy de Bois.

   “Our victory has made the Caliphate unstable. But Caliph Al Nasir still holds nearly half of the peninsular, not including his lands across the straights. If our army were to splinter, the Caliph could field another force of up to twenty thousand men from his southern lands. Nowhere near as strong as that we have just faced, but if we lose numbers, we could be overwhelmed,” answered Sir Edward.

   “You think the Caliph could really muster another army so soon my lord?” asked Athaelstan.

   “If we lose men and allow the Caliph time, then yes. He could well rally another army to face