CHAPTER SIX
He was a big man with big hands and a crown of light blond hair. His eyes were brown, his face sharp and hawk-like. Sir Simon de Corlet came from an extremely old family, one that had come to England’s shores with William the Conqueror, and he held the mannerisms and sense of entitlement that breeding like that produced. He was cruel, arrogant, loud and privileged.
Simon had known Kieran Hage since they had been pages at Kenilworth Castle. He both deeply loved and deeply resented Kieran. As the years passed, the men grew closer but Kieran, as always, was the favored one. He was bigger, strong, more benevolent, wiser, and the better warrior. Simon adored Kieran but mostly stayed close to him hoping to glean something from Kieran’s glory.
When the secret meeting between the Muslims and the Christians took place, Kieran was at the head of the delegation and Simon only saw greater glory for Kieran than he had ever known. Simon would have none of it; at that moment his resentment for Kieran grew greater than his love. He tried to kill Kieran and take the crown. But when that didn’t work and Kieran evaded him, Simon did the only thing he could. He sent word to the king that he had caught Kieran Hage in a traitorous act against the Christian armies. It was a preemptive strike that he hoped would discredit Kieran in the eyes of the king so that Simon could capture or kill Kieran and say he had done it in the name of the king.
But it was more than that. Before Simon left for The Levant, he had been given a directive from his father, a man extremely loyal to Henry II and, consequently, Prince John. Simon had been given specific instructions from his father to watch Richard and to do what was necessary to preserve the cause of Henry II and Prince John. He’d stopped short of asking his son to assassinate the king, but the message had been obvious. Simon was too fearful to outright assassinate a monarch, instead hoping that prolonged battle would accomplish the task naturally. If Kieran delivered the Muslim peace offering, then the opportunity for extended battle, and Richard’s death as a result, would be ended.
But Kieran was as wise and strong as Simon knew him to be. He had, thus far, evaded Simon’s attempts to kill him. But that was soon to end. Having tracked Kieran to a hostel in Nahariya, Simon and his men descended upon the place only to be told by the innkeeper that Kieran had fled.
In a rage, Simon had killed the innkeeper but the man’s wife had run off screaming. It was only a hunch to follow the howling woman, a hunch that had paid off. They had found Kieran near the outskirts of Nahariya with a group of Saracens. The savages fought fiercely on Kieran’s behalf and Simon began to wonder if the lie he fed to the king wasn’t in some part true. Perhaps Kieran was a traitor after all. He could not account for the savages willing to defend him.
He’d caught a glimpse of Kieran as the fighting started. Then the hut that Kieran had been hiding in had caught fire and the man had disappeared into the smoke. Simon eventually recognized one of the Saracens. The man had been at the secret meeting when the Crown of Thorns had been presented to the Christian delegation. As the fighting worsened and Kieran seemed to have disappeared completely, Simon sent four of his men to see if Kieran had managed to escape from the burning structure. He ordered the men that remained with him to back off of the fight.
The hut was in flames, disintegrating before his eyes. There were several Saracen warriors inside and Simon backed off as the flames grew.
“Sauvages!” he bellowed. “J’offre vous cesse!”
The fighting continued in spite of the order to cease. Simon screamed to his own men, ordering them to halt, and they backed off even as the Saracens continued the hostilities. Simon dismounted his horse, shoving aside battling men and making his way towards Yusef.
“Ad-Din,” he shouted. “Arrêter la lutte!”
Yusef’s sword was arched high over his head, preparing to come down on one of Simon’s men but he stopped mid-stroke, watching Simon walk towards him. He recognized the English knight, a colleague of Hage’s. Confusion filled his face.
“You?” he spoke in a baffled whisper. “You are the assassin?”
Simon’s brown eyes glittered. “Sir Kieran is a traitor.”
Yusef’s puzzlement grew. “What madness is this?”
Simon motioned to the rest of his men, silently ordering them to sheathe their weapons and mount their horses. He backed up towards his horse, keeping his weapon leveled.
“He met with savages in a secret to plot planning the downfall of the Christian armies,” Simon replied evenly. “I have told the king that Kieran is a traitor. Of course, I am in fear for my life from Kieran for the man knows that I am aware of his treachery. If Kieran returns to Richard’s camp, he will be arrested. Since you apparently have contact with Kieran, you will tell him this.”
Yusef stared at the man, wondering at the chaos of the situation. Although he recognized Simon, he did not know the man as he knew Kieran. Kieran had been the knight with the fair reputation, close to the English king, two factors that caused the Saracens to consider Kieran a man to trust for their message of peace. De Corlet had come with Kieran as a trusted associate. But now, that was apparently not so. Simon had turned against Kieran for reasons Yusef could not even begin to guess. But there was a strong sense of resentment along with his confusion.
“Why would you tell your king that Kieran is a traitor?” He shook his head, baffled. “You were at the secret meeting also. You know this is not true.”
Some of Simon’s smugness fled. “I will not explain myself to a savage,” he snarled, leaping onto the back of his charger. “You will tell Kieran that if he tries to returns to Richard’s camp, he will be killed before he can reach it.”
With that, he reined his horse brutally, digging his long, golden spurs into the side of the beast and charging off into the darkness. His men charged after him, leaving a massive cloud of dust in their wake. Yusef stood there with his warriors, watching the Christian knights disappear into the shadows as Kaleef’s hut went up in flames behind them. By this time, some of the neighbors had been aroused and several threw buckets of sand on the blaze, trying to keep it from spreading to their homes. As the blaze roared, Yusef and his men simply walked away.
“What do we do?” one of Yusef’s men hissed at him.
Yusef kept walking as his men grouped around him, heading for the horses that were tethered by the small livery at the end of the block. Beyond his confusion now, he was simply feeling anger and, if he were to admit it, a little fear. Something strange was happening and he began to fear for his own life, wondering if there were Muslims that felt the same way as the Christians did. Nothing was clear any longer. Goodwill and benevolence were vanished.
“Find Kieran,” he snapped, watching his men run off and collect their mounts. “He cannot have gotten far. Find him before that Christian devil does.”
*
Horses were rushing past their hiding place and Kieran held Rory tightly, his massive arms wrapped around her protectively as the clear brown eyes watched the passing horses like a hawk. There were at least four of them and he thought he could hear more in the distance. The original peace delegation that had met with El-Hajidd and his generals had been comprised of twelve knights. Out of that group, six had sided with Simon and the four that had sided with Kieran had been killed. There were still three more knights out there that wanted to see Kieran dead and he wasn’t too inclined to move from his hiding place at the moment.
So he stayed put. In his arms, Rory trembled against him and he stroked her on occasion, reassuring her that all would be well. As the night progressed, she fell asleep against him and he held her fast, tucked tight into the nook that had protected them against the murderers. But at some point, he knew they would have to move and he gently shook her awake, giving her a few moments to become lucid. Whatever Kaleef had given her was making her very drowsy and he promised her they would find a more permanent rest very soon. In truth, she seemed to be taking the turmoil very well. Like Kieran, she was in survival mode and all of the complaining in the world wouldn’t change the fact. She seemed oddly resigned. Making sure the alley was clear, Kieran took Rory quietly into the night.
They began to head back in the direction of Kaleef’s hut. The smell of smoke was heavy in the air and they realized it was because Kaleef’s burning home had set several others ablaze. Kieran kept out of sight as much as he could as they made their way down the dark and shadowed avenue when two figures suddenly emerged from another darkened alleyway. Kieran and Rory were preparing to run when Kieran suddenly recognized one of the wraiths.
“Yusef!” he hissed.
Yusef’s dark eyes found Kieran in the dim light. He ran to Kieran, followed by one of his warriors. They were quiet and stealthy as they moved. Before Kieran could speak, Yusef cut him off.
“There is trouble, my friend.” He grabbed Kieran and practically shoved him back into the shadows. “The Englishmen who came for you told of a tremendous tale. You cannot return to your king.”
Kieran’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Yusef looked nervous. The warrior beside him kept vigilant watch as Yusef continued on.
“De Corlet was with the group that attacked Kaleef,” he said in a low voice. “Did you see him?”
Kieran shook his head. “I did not. Where was he?”
“He was on horseback. He stayed back as his men tried to gain entry, as we bought you time to escape,” Yusef’s dark eyes grew intense. “De Corlet told us that he told your king that you are a traitor.”
Kieran just stared at him, hardly believing what he was hearing. “That’s madness,” he hissed. “I am not a traitor.”
“Nay, you are not.” Yusef shook his head slowly. “But you did not tell me that it was de Corlet who tried to assassinate you.”
Yusef knew Simon as part of the Christian peace delegation. Simon had stood supportively next to Kieran as the man had accepted the Crown of Thorns from El-Hajidd. It was a sickening realization to both Kieran and Yusef that the Christians had turned against each other.
“Aye, it is him,” Kieran confirmed quietly.
“Why is he trying to murder you?”
“I do not know,” Kieran replied honestly. “Perhaps because he would rather see the Muslims a conquered people than see an armistice that would prevent more deaths on either side. Perhaps he does not want to see the siege of Acre end; perhaps he wants to see Saladin completely destroyed.”
By this time, Yusef’s expression was tight. “So he is trying to kill you because you have the Crown of Thorns, the offering of peace extended by El-Hajidd.”
Kieran nodded angrily. “Aye,” he replied. “He killed the four men who sided with me. I am the last of the peace delegation who actually wants to see this conflict end. I am the last one who can deliver the Crown of Thorns to Richard as El-Hajidd’s offering of truce. So he is trying to kill me.”
Yusef understood a great deal. His tight expression turned somewhat sick. “I have fellow warriors who would also like to see this battle continue until the Christians are crushed,” he said quietly. “But I am not one of them.”
“I know.”
“Why would de Corlet tell your king that you are a traitor, then?”
Kieran shrugged. “I suppose to discredit me when I return to camp bearing the peace offering. If he cannot kill me, then he would have the king believe I am a liar and a traitor. More than likely, the remainder of the peace delegation will side with him and confirm that they saw me meet with Muslims in secret. They were there also, of course, but they will not tell the king that. It will make me look as if I was doing something subversive. It will be my word against theirs.”
“But you are the king’s friend, are you not? He will not believe them.”
Kieran sighed faintly. “The only way he would believe me wholeheartedly is if you were to come with me to confirm El-Hajidd’s peace offering. But Simon would kill you before you could reach the king. He would kill us both.”
Yusef was distressed. After several long moments of pondering a situation with good intentions that had gone horribly wrong, he finally shook his head.
“Then the only answer is for you to return home and take the crown with you,” he said. “You cannot stay here. No matter what you do, you are in danger and so is your wife. You cannot remain.”
That was becoming increasingly clear to Kieran. He looked at Rory, who was gazing up at him with big, frightened eyes. He gave her much credit for having remained strong and silent thus far. His focus returned to Yusef.
“I cannot return home branded a traitor,” he said quietly.
“You are not a traitor,” Yusef insisted. “I will have a scribe take my testimony to the fact and you may take it with you. Perhaps it will clear you of these preposterous accusations when these conflicts are over.”
“Perhaps,” Kieran said, feeling despondent and empty. He’d spent three years in this place only to flee home like a criminal; it just wasn’t fair. He had been attempting to end the conflict, to save lives, but it was apparently not to be. He couldn’t get close to Richard without being killed because the king apparently believed Simon’s lies. It was disheartening and sickening.
“God’s Blood,” he hissed, suddenly deflated and weary. “Is it possible? Is this really happening?”
“It seems to be. You must go home unless you want to die here.”
Kieran shrugged his shoulders weakly. “But what of my army? I brought eight hundred Southwell men with me. I cannot simply leave them.”
“You have no choice. Leave them or die.”
Kieran stared at him, finally emitting a heavy sigh. “There is another problem,” he said in a tone that suggested he was giving up. “I chased my charger off when you and your men attacked me. The horse is probably already to Richard’s camp by now. The crown, and everything I own, was on that horse.”
Yusef turned into the darkness and let out a soft whistle. From the narrow alleyway across the street where Yusef had been lying in wait, another man appeared leading a snorting charger. It took Kieran a moment to realize that it was Liberator.
“We caught your horse,” Yusef smiled at Kieran’s astonished expression. “Do you recall the man I sent after him? An Arabian was faster than a Warmblood, Christian. We have better horses than you do.”
Kieran let out a sigh of amazement and gratitude as he took Liberator in hand. The horse snapped at the unfamiliar Saracen holding him but happily nuzzled Kieran when he recognized the man’s scent. It was like watching a parent and child reunited.
“You may have better horses, but I have a smarter one,” he muttered, listening to Yusef’s low laughter. “Thank you for retrieving him.”
Rory had remained largely silent throughout the exchange. Truth was, she was overwhelmed by all of it. She simply couldn’t understand why things were turning so poorly against Kieran; all the man had wanted to do was achieve peace. But everything was against him, including his fellow knights. All he had was her, the crown, his horse and a Muslim ally. He was being crushed right before her eyes… or was he?
“Kieran,” she moved forward, whispering in the dark. “You don’t have to leave. We can get to Richard and explain everything. He knows you and trusts you. He will trust you when you tell him that Simon is the real traitor.”
Kieran drew in a long, slow breath, still stroking the horse. “If I could speak with him and present him with the crown, I am confident that he would believe me.” He turned to look at her in the darkness. “But Yusef is correct; Simon and the others will try to kill me at every turn. Moreover, I have you to worry about and I cannot allow you to come to harm.”
She gazed up at him, her hazel eyes glimmering in the weak moonlight. “And if I weren’t here? If I didn’t even fit into this equation, what would you do?”
He thought briefly. “Do everything in my power to return to the king. This peace offering is too important not to do everything I can to see it through.”
“Then why stop trying just because of me?” she insisted passionately. “I can’t be the reason you didn’t even try. You would grow to resent me and I can’t let that happen.”
“If I were to go to the king, I cannot take you with me. Do you understand that?”
“Of course I do. Who says I can’t stay here, maybe with Kaleef? Or maybe Yusef can take me somewhere safe to wait this out.” She suddenly put her hands on his face, pulling him down to her level. She kissed him tenderly. “Kieran, we’ve been returned to finish what you started eight hundred years ago. I know there have been a lot of obstacles thrown up, but you can’t let that stop you. You have to finish this; you know you do. That’s the entire reason why we’re here.”
He kissed her in return, sweetly, tasting her. “I will not leave you behind. I will not be separated from you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kieran, listen to me,” she whispered. “I will be safe. I’ll stay here in Nahariya and wait for you to come back. You don’t have to worry about me. But you absolutely need to go to the king and straighten all of this out.”
“Do not listen to her, my friend.” Yusef grabbed Kieran by the arm, partially dislodging Rory from his embrace. “She speaks as a woman does, with soft thoughts and feelings. You must think like a warrior; you know that it is best for you to return home. Let time and separation heal this rift and let your innocence be proven in the years to come. The peace quest upon these sands has come to an end. If you stay here, you will die.”
Kieran gazed steadily at Yusef, watching the man nod as if to reaffirm his statement. After a moment, Kieran nodded shortly and returned his attention to Rory. There was something painful and sad in his expression.
“He is correct,” he murmured. “I cannot continue this quest, as much as I would like to and clear my name. Too much is working against me at the moment. I believe that I have no choice.”
Rory gazed up at him, feeling hollow and defeated. She also felt some anger and frustration and she pulled away, her gaze moving between Kieran and Yusef. They seemed so resigned to accept the quick end but she understood why. She didn’t want Kieran to die, either. Maybe they knew best and she should simply accept it. She jabbed a finger at the Saracen.
“You did this to him,” she hissed. “Your people called that secret meeting and handed over the crown. Didn’t you stop to think what would happen if things went wrong? Why didn’t you just do it in the open and present it to Richard in person? Why all of the secrecy?”
Yusef wasn’t particularly fond of any woman who did not know her place in the world. But out of respect to Kieran, he kept his head. That and the fact that Kieran was twice his size. He kept a civil tongue as he replied.
“Lady Hage,” he began. “We contacted your husband because out of all of the Christian knights we had heard tale of, he was the one with the most honest reputation. He was not here for glory or riches. He was here because his king asked it of him and because he was a fair and virtuous man. Had we known Sir Kieran would be branded a traitor for attempting to gain peace, we would not have made the effort to contact him.”
Rory was feeling ill now more than anger or frustration; all she could see was Kieran, defeated and branded a traitor. It just wasn’t fair. “Look what you did to him.” She was verging on tears. “Now his friends want to kill him.”
“I can only apologize.”
“You can do that and then you can help us get out of here.”
“I will, I swear it. I will not let you or your husband die if I can help it.”
She gazed at him a moment before replying in a deliberate tone. “He’s not my husband,” she said softly. “He told that lie to make it easier for me. We’re not married but we want to be. You can help us with that, too.”
Yusef looked at Kieran for a moment, holding back his initial shock, and then back to Rory. He smiled, his white teeth evident in the moonlight.
“That,” he said, “would be my pleasure.”
*
The next evening
Yusef found old Kaleef cowering in an alley near his burned-out home, terrified, where he had been hiding since the fire. Unable to simply walk away and leave the old man destitute, Yusef intended to return with him to El-Hajidd’s encampment, a massive warrior city with thousands of Saracen warriors, reinforcements for those who were defending the massive fortified city of Acre. It was his intention to return to camp and confer with his general now that their peace offering had gone terribly wrong. They were back to the beginning.
Yusef and his men were just outside of the city under the quarter moon. Yusef was looking forward to a good meal and a warm bed and Kaleef was looking forward to a meal and shelter. He was still rather disoriented, a very old man who had just lost everything, and Yusef was trying to do something good by assisting him. Allah was merciful with the compassionate. Since Yusef and Kieran were the reason Kaleef lost his home, the young Saracen warrior was eager to make amends.
The sky was clear and cloudless this night as the group made their way out of the edge of the city. As they neared a dry wash that was the barrier between the city limits and the desert beyond, they were suddenly cut off by a large patrol of Christian knights.
Yusef immediately drew his sword, as did the others. They were not afraid of battle. In these times, when Acre was under siege, Saracen and Christian alike roamed these lands and engagement was common. Yusef and his men were prepared. Swords gleamed wickedly beneath the quarter moon as the ancient combatants prepared for a fight.
Before the fight could start, however, one of the Christian knights held up a gloved hand with a shout.
“Se tenir en bas vos armes!” he cried. “Nous ne sommes pas ici de combattre!”
Yusef didn’t lower his sword; he kept it level and replied to them in French. “What do you want?”
The knight with his hand raised moved forward slightly; Yusef did not recognize the armor, as so many Christians were identified by the style and type of armor they wore. This one was English but, beyond that, he did not know the man. It was intimidating, potent armor that all Christians wore, hiding their face and bodies from the swords and sands of The Levant. Yusef was busy inspecting the man and his weapons when the knight spoke.
“We are looking for Sir Kieran Hage,” the man said. “We are told that he is being held by the Saracens.”
Yusef didn’t reply for a moment. “Kieran Hage is not our guest.”
“Where is he?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because I bring him a message.”
“From whom?”
“The king.”
Yusef kept the sword up still. He did not trust the English knights, especially after what had happened two days ago. For all he knew, this knight was part of de Corlet’s assassin contingent.
“I do not know where he is,” he replied.
The man seemed increasingly exasperated. “Have you at least seen him? It is very important I relay this message to him.”
“Why?” Yusef did not appreciate the games these men were playing. “So that you can kill him?”
“Nay,” the man flipped up his visor, revealing brilliant blue eyes and little else. “Richard wants to warn him.”
“About what?”
The man’s frustration grew and he moved forward a few steps, his brilliant eyes glittering under the weak moonlight.
“If you will give him this message, then I will tell you.”
“I will give it to him.”
“Then tell him that one of de Corlet’s men broke and confessed all to the king,” the man said. “Richard knows that Sir Kieran is not a traitor. He knows that Simon de Corlet was trying to kill him and the king further knows about the treasure that Sir Kieran has in his possessions. It is the king’s wish that Sir Kieran return to him immediately for all due honor and blessings.”
Yusef stared at the man a long time before speaking. “Why should I believe you?” he asked. “How do I know you are not trying to find Sir Kieran so that you can kill him?”
The knight shook his head. “My name is Sir Rhys du Bois,” the knight replied. “I am an ally of Sir Kieran. Under his absence, I have taken charge of his army so they will not fall into questionable hands. I assure you, with God as my witness, that everything I have said is true. The king knows of Sir Simon’s treachery and of Kieran’s innocence.”
“Then if I am to believe you, de Corlet’s life is now the one that is forfeit. Is this not the case?”
The knight shook his head. “Simon was informed of the king’s fury and fled before he could be arrested. It is believed he is heading back home to England.”
Yusef couldn’t help it; at that point, he knew he turned pale. His jaw went slack and his eyes widened.
“Dear Allah,” he breathed. “Is it true?’
“We believe so. Why? Where is Sir Kieran?”
“Heading home to England as well.”