Orphan of Destiny Read online

  “What are we going to do?” Robard asked. “We’re trapped.”

  I tried to think of our next move.

  “What if he sends one of his men to the Commandery to bring help?” Maryam asked.

  “If there is even a full regimento there, I hope he has them out searching the countryside. . . . Regardless, they have all of the ways out covered. I believe they’ll try to wait us out. They won’t want to face an archer up close. I think we’re relatively safe for the moment,” I said.

  I closed my eyes, trying hard to concentrate. Robard stood, bow at the ready, and I counted only a few arrows left in his wallet. Not a good thing. Not a good thing at all. My thoughts were interrupted by Robard’s shout, “Look out!” He pushed me roughly to the side, and a crossbow bolt thudded into a wooden post right where I’d been kneeling. I hated crossbows.

  We found what cover we could as several more bolts flew at us.

  “Robard, stay down,” I said. “If they try to draw you out . . . We can’t lose you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, squire, and neither are you, and . . . Tristan . . . where is Maryam?”

  From my hiding place, I glanced around me in every direction, but she was nowhere to be found. She was either excellent at hiding or had disappeared into thin air. “I don’t know,” I answered. “Maryam? Maryam, where are you?” I called quietly.

  “Confound it!” Robard exclaimed. “What is that Assassin up to? If she gets herself caught again . . .” Robard tried to sound angry, but he was worried. I knew he would fight the knights with his bare hands before he’d let any harm come to her.

  “Perhaps she’s finding an escape route,” I said hopefully. “We need to get out of here. Maryam can more than take care of herself.”

  We remained hidden from the knights’ view as best we could. Our enemies appeared comfortable with keeping us pinned down by crossbows. They fired a shot in our direction on occasion, but we were well concealed. Robard had no clear shot or time to stand and draw, so we waited.

  “Maybe they’ve caught her,” Robard mused, concern in his voice.

  “No. If they had, Sir Hugh would be using her as a means to get us to surrender. He doesn’t have her.”

  Robard muttered quiet curses under his breath. Our situation was beginning to wear on him.

  “You should have let me shoot Sir Hugh in the alley,” he complained bitterly.

  I said nothing. It was time to act.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “Waiting gets us nothing. We have to get out of here somehow.”

  My wound made bending at the waist painful, but standing upright meant instant death, so I crouched as best I could and scrambled toward the south end of the marketplace. A bolt skittered across the cobblestone in front of me, and I dove behind a cart.

  Robard landed beside me an instant later. “We’re wasting time,” he muttered.

  I tried to rise to get a view of where the knights had placed themselves, but another bolt bit into the wood just inches from my face, and I ducked again.

  “They’re getting closer,” I yelped.

  “I say we rush them!” Robard said through gritted teeth, anger at our situation beginning to get the best of him.

  Then, though I would not have wished it in this manner, our deliverance arrived. From out of the darkness a fiery torch came spinning our way, followed quickly by another. The first landed harmlessly on the cobblestone and burned out, but the other clattered against a canvas-covered stall, and the material began to smolder, then burn. Sir Hugh was willing to burn down the marketplace to get to us. I wanted to rush and put it out before it caught, not wishing some poor vendor to lose his livelihood, but I held fast, for fear of the crossbowmen.

  The breeze fanned the flames. In a few short moments the wood frame of the stall caught as well. Then the next stall caught, and a full-on conflagration took hold.

  “Robard,” I said, “this is our chance! Wait for the smoke to thicken a little, then move off toward the south end.” When the time came and the air was dense with the smell of fire, Robard stood and aimed his bow.

  “Robard . . . what . . .” But he loosed his arrow before I could finish, and an instant later came the answering cry of agony where it found its mark. He quickly ducked as two bolts flew through the air where he’d stood just moments before.

  “How did you . . . ,” I asked. Wondering how he could hit a target he couldn’t see.

  “I measured where he stood and marked it in my memory,” he explained. “That’s one less knight. I suggest we move. You’re looking weaker, Tristan. Can you make it?”

  “This way,” I said, ignoring his question, for in truth my side ached miserably. But with the smoke swirling around us and the flames licking the night sky, I ran in my crablike gait from stall to stall. With any luck, we’d have a few precious seconds before our movement was revealed.

  We paused behind a large vegetable cart and waited. We were nearly to the very end of the marketplace and the flames were moving toward us. With the fire behind us we had no other option. The blaze cast a glow in the darkness, and beyond us on the street we could see two knights guarding the nearest exit, crossbows ready, waiting for us to show ourselves. If we rushed them, they would shoot us down before we took a step. And if Robard stood and drew his bow, he might get one of them, but the other would have a clear shot at him.

  I coughed as the smoke thickened. The knights strained to find where the sound had come from over the crackling noise.

  Then our luck turned. From out of the night came shouts of alarm. It was the townspeople. “Fire! Fire!” rang through the night. And down the street, in the shadows beyond, I spotted movement as dozens of men and women rushed toward the marketplace.

  “Robard, this is our chance,” I said.

  “What about Maryam?”

  “One thing at a time.” I grabbed hold of the handle on the cart we were hiding behind and pushed. Robard joined in, and the wheels spun as we steered it directly toward the knights twenty yards away. Distracted by the gathering crowd, they didn’t notice us at first, but then one turned as we were almost upon him and fired his crossbow. The bolt bounced harmlessly off the wooden cart, but his companion’s shot bit hard into the wood, next to my hand. I gasped in alarm and pushed harder, the cart gaining speed. With no time to span their crossbows, the knights dropped them to the ground and were about to draw their swords when we crashed into them.

  We were immediately surrounded by a crowd of frantic Doverites, clamoring and shouting. I spotted Sir Hugh astride his horse, trying to force his way through the crowd to reach us.

  “The knight there, on horseback, he’s responsible for the fire!” I shouted, pointing frantically.

  One man looked at me, confused and upset. “Him! Him!” I shouted, pointing at Sir Hugh again. “He ordered the marketplace burned!” A few men heard me and took off after him. Sir Hugh was trying desperately to rally the remaining knights to come after us, but the whole area was a sea of confusion, with more people pouring into the streets every second. At least now there was an angry crowd between him and us.

  Robard and I ran, picking our way through the crowd. Robard still held his bow at the ready, and I had drawn my sword. He shouted and cursed, and his near madness gave us a widened path through the teeming mass of people storming toward the fire. Some were carrying buckets of water, and I prayed they could control the flames before the fire spread farther into the town.

  I cast a quick glance over my shoulder and found Sir Hugh still urging his horse through the crowd. He held his sword high above his head, as if commanding the masses to part, but his words were drowned out in the chaos. In our attempt to escape, I had lost count of how many knights were still in fighting shape, but we remained outnumbered.

  “We’re never going to make it!” I yelled to Robard. “Once he clears the crowd, he’ll ride us down!

  “Robard, there!” I exclaimed. A riderless horse belonging to one of Sir Hugh’s men wandered towa
rd us, then skittered away, spooked by the advancing flames. “Come on!” We sprinted toward it, and I clutched the reins and managed to claw my way into the saddle as Robard climbed up behind me.

  Slowly the crowd parted and I urged the horse onward.

  “Tristan!” I heard my name shouted over the noise surrounding me. And then came a familiar ululating war cry.

  “Look!” I said to Robard.

  And there was Maryam, standing upright on the back of her horse lest someone in the dizzying crowd attempt to pull her from the saddle. She was leading our other mount behind her, and I could hear Angel barking madly. The crowd parted like water before Maryam’s thundering horses. She reined to a stop a few paces in front of us and dropped into the saddle of her horse with practiced ease. Angel ran back and forth between Robard and me. I praised her for so admirably guarding the horses.

  “I would suggest we ride,” Maryam said, smiling.

  10

  Robard took the spare horse and we turned them south and steered our way through the crowd. A quick glance told me Sir Hugh was still occupied with the mass ofpeople, many ofthem angry at him for starting the fire.

  “Hurry! And stay low! They still have crossbows!” I shouted above the noise. We could not easily gallop with dozens upon dozens of citizens still rushing toward the center of town. Robard cursed and bellowed and exhorted everyone in our path to make way.

  “Let us pass! Out of our way! We have urgent business with the King!” he shouted. The King? We pushed and cajoled our way along, and I looked back to see a knight on horseback bringing his crossbow to bear.

  “Behind us! Down!” I hollered as loud as I could. The bolt whizzed between Robard and me and into the crowd. I heard a cry of pain and the people gave way to find an old man, lying in the street, the small shaft sticking out of his shoulder. The townspeople were confused. First their marketplace was set ablaze and now someone was shooting them down in cold blood.

  “Go! Keep going!” I shouted, resisting the urge to stop and aid the man. Sir Hugh was gaining, and our presence would only endanger more innocents.

  “It’s the man over there!” I shouted, turning in the saddle and pointing at the knight who had fired. “He did this to your fellow!” The crowd was in a confused frenzy and easy to manipulate. Two dozen people surged around my horse, charging down the street toward the knight on horseback. Though the man was a Templar, someone these folks might even know, they had witnessed what happened and wanted vengeance.

  Maryam and Angel were farther ahead of us and free of the worst part of the riotous mass of people. Before long the three of us cleared them as well. We gave rein to our horses, needing to put some distance between us and Sir Hugh and his men. In a few moments we had reached the outskirts of Dover and entered the wooded countryside.

  “We’re headed south!” Robard shouted over the pounding hooves.

  “We need to get away first and worry about direction later,” I answered. The night sky would make it difficult to spot any pursuit until we could hear them, and by then they would be almost upon us. The terrain was rolling and filled with thick trees that required us to go much more slowly than I would have wished, but we could not risk running headlong into a low-hanging tree branch.

  We climbed a hill lying roughly two leagues from Dover and stopped in the tree line for a moment. The moon still shone behind the cloud cover, so there was just enough light to guide us. We rested there a moment with our horses breathing hard. Angel dropped to the ground, panting, staring off the way we had come.

  “This is too close to town,” Maryam said. “They will be upon us—”

  She was interrupted by Angel, who jumped to her feet, her body rigid and a low growl sounding in her throat. She paced a few steps and stopped, cocking her head to the side.

  “Someone’s coming,” Robard said. And indeed off in the distance I could just make out the sounds of horses and the shouts of men. Sir Hugh and his remaining knights had freed themselves from the angry crowd and were after us.

  We rode off, trying hard to make a difficult trail for them to follow.

  “They are better mounted!” Robard exclaimed over the sound of hoofbeats. “It won’t be long until they overtake us!” He was right. With the exception of the knights’ horse I rode, Robard’s and Maryam’s animals were smaller and much less hardy than the warhorses ridden by the pursuing knights. What we gained in their ability to maneuver more easily through the wooded countryside was lost by the greater speed and endurance of our enemies’ chargers.

  “You better think of something quick!” Maryam yelled. “My poor horse is about to give out.”

  We rode down the edge of another rise, and off to our left, I spotted a heavily overgrown thicket, dense with shrubs and saplings and evergreens. Though it was winter, these trees still held dead leaves, and the ground cover would hide us well.

  “Hold!” I said, reining my horse to a stop. “This way.” I steered us into the thicket. Luckily we had ridden over some of the same ground on our trip into Dover. And I remembered a small ravine cutting through the forest floor not far ahead. If I was lucky, maybe I could trick Sir Hugh.

  “The two of you wait here,” I said. “Keep the horses and yourselves hidden.” Maryam and Robard raised no argument and dismounted quickly. I took the satchel from my shoulder and tossed it to Robard. “If I don’t come back, if Sir Hugh catches me, you know what you must do. Take it to Father William at the Church of the Holy Redeemer in Rosslyn. Don’t come for me. He’ll kill me anyway. He must not have this.”

  “What are you going to do?” Maryam asked.

  “Don’t worry. I have a plan.” I smiled. “Come on, Angel.” I turned the horse and started to trot away. “Robard, keep an arrow ready. You’ll hear me coming back to the thicket before you can see me in this light. I’ll yell ‘Beauseant’—that way you’ll know it’s me. All right?”

  “How will I know it isn’t Sir Hugh hollering ‘Beauseant’ as he’s about to charge us? You Templars love that word. You think you’re all such great fighters. What if—”

  “Robard!” I nearly yelled, trying to keep my voice under control.

  “What?” he answered. Robard often became incessantly chatty when he was fighting. Or about to fight. Or finished fighting.

  “Just keep alert. I won’t be gone long.”

  Angel and I left them there in the woods and made our way back to the point where we’d cut away toward the thicket. I turned the horse and pushed him hard, hoping I wouldn’t get lost in the dark. Along the way, I made no effort to disguise my route, snapping the branches off of passing trees and steering him through muddy ground whenever I could find it. Whenever I stopped to listen, I heard no one, but I knew they were coming and had an advantage with Angel at my side. She would hear and smell them long before they reached me.

  We rode through another dense copse of trees. The muted moonlight revealed the entrance to the small ravine cutting through the forest floor, and I hoped to use it to our advantage. Without giving myself enough time to question my plan, I steered the horse down the steep slope and called for Angel to follow. We navigated the twisting gorge until we found a suitable spot. Time was our enemy. It would only be a few minutes until they tracked me here.

  Sir Hugh was mad in his pursuit of me and desperate to recover the Grail. But I also believed he would be cautious. For one thing, though I had made a thorough effort to lead them directly here, he could not surmise which of us lay waiting in the darkness, and it might just be Robard with his longbow. His timidity would give me a few extra minutes. All the time I needed for my scheme to work.

  The ravine was rocky, pocked with boulders and scrub trees and bushes. I walked forward a few yards until I found what I was looking for. A tree branch had fallen into the ravine from the forest above. It was about six feet long and perfect for my plan.

  With my sword I hacked it in half. Ripping a length of cloth from my tunic, I lashed the branch together into a crude cross
, and with a few more strips managed to tie it firmly onto the saddle so the two “arms” stuck up in the air like the arms on a headless man. Quickly I shrugged out of my brown servant’s tunic, draping it over the tied-down branches. From a distance, it would appear as if I were still mounted on the horse.

  Angel growled again, peering back down the ravine. The knights were coming. I wrapped the reins around the pommel of the saddle and waited. Behind me came the sound of horses and the soft clinking sound of chain mail. I closed my eyes. My thought was to convince them that we had separated and that Robard the archer waited here ready to bring doom upon them with his bow. In my mind I concentrated on remembering the sound of Robard’s speech. His was a shade deeper than mine. Finally, when I was ready, I lowered my voice and shouted out to the approaching men.

  “Come ahead! I’ll spoon-feed you goose feather and birch straight from the bow of a King’s Archer! I won’t surrender and you won’t take me alive!” The movement and noise down the ravine stopped as they paused to consider my comments.

  “What’s the matter? No taste for the longbow?” I shouted.

  Still no sound.

  “Then try to catch me!” I yelled, and gave the horse a sharp smack on the rump. It leapt forward, careering down the ravine, my tunic flapping in the breeze.

  “Come on, Angel,” I whispered. We moved another few yards ahead and found a small collection of boulders and shrubs large enough for us to hide behind. We would be invisible to anyone approaching from the opposite direction.

  The sound of my horse grew fainter. The woods were almost still. But then came the creak of leather and the plodding steps of horses. They had heard my mount ride away and were coming to investigate.

  With my sword in my hand and Angel quivering with silent rage beside me, we waited. Slowly, the sound of the riders drew nearer. I could not risk a look over the boulders shielding us. Any movement might be noticed.