Trail of Fate

both, and we leapt off the trail into the safety of the trees. Maryam crouched, petting the dog to keep her calm. I drew my short sword and peered through the trees at the buildings ahead, trying to get a sense of what was happening.

It was a small village, like the one we’d stopped at a few hours before, with about a dozen wooden dwellings and a few other buildings crowded alongside the trail. It looked deserted. Then there was a louder and even more tormented scream that echoed off the trees around us.

Angel looked up at me with her brown, intelligent eyes. I held my fingers to my lips and told her to stay. She stared back at me and whined quietly, then lay down on the ground, her small tail bobbing madly back and forth.

I gestured for Maryam to follow me.

We crept up behind the first small dwelling. With my back to the wall, I peered around the corner toward the interior of the village but saw nothing. The only sound was the breeze as it moved through the woods. Then I thought I heard a muffled cry coming from a small cluster of buildings a few yards ahead. I motioned for Maryam to go around the other side and work her way forward. She melted away in an instant, and I carefully stepped around the corner, my sword at the ready.

The doorway of the hut was open, but with a quick look inside I found it deserted. I moved quickly past it and on to the next building. Also empty. There was a murmur of voices up ahead, mingled with the sounds of soft cries. Still advancing forward, and pausing at the space between two of the huts, I found Maryam waiting for me. She had heard the noise as well, and signaled for us to keep moving toward it as she faded away again.

A few paces ahead I came to the last building facing the village square. I peered cautiously around the corner to find two of the High Counsel’s men standing, swords drawn, before a man slumped to the ground with his hands tied behind his back. A young boy and girl were sobbing uncontrollably, clutching their mother’s skirts a few steps away.

Looking down the side of the building, Maryam was already studying the scene from her vantage point. Her eyes found mine and I nodded for her to meet me out of sight of the two men.

“What is the meaning of this?” she whispered, her voice quivering with anger.

“I don’t know. What do you suppose this man has done to be tied up so?”

Maryam shrugged. “Maybe they are some of Celia’s people. If they couldn’t make it to the fortress, perhaps they hid out here and were discovered by those cretins.”

“I wonder if those are the two men who survived the encounter with Philippe,” I pondered.

“Safe to assume. They must be on their way to Montsegur to rejoin their forces. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.” I tried to concentrate, but then from the other side of the hut came a loud smack and another scream. I didn’t know what was happening, but I had little patience for those who would injure innocent people.

“Circle through the woods and work your way to the far side of the buildings. I’ll draw their attention and try to get them to chase me. When they do, take those people to the woods and find a place to hide.”

Maryam nodded and left me there. I counted to one hundred very slowly to give her time to move into position. Then I stepped out where the men would see me.

One of the soldiers was holding the bound man’s hair in his clenched fist while the other tried to work a length of rope around his neck. The boy launched himself at the two men, his small arms flailing and kicking at the villain who held his father’s hair. The man laughed and backhanded the lad, sending him sprawling in the dirt.

That did it.

“What is the meaning of this?” I shouted.

Both men were so startled that they jumped, releasing their grip on the father, who slowly keeled over in the dirt. They looked at me and drew their swords.

“Qui etes-vous?” the one closest to me shouted. I was fairly certain he was asking me who I was. Curse my poor French!

“What are you doing to these people?” I asked in English. Both men stared at me in confusion.

The first man spoke quickly, and it was hard for me to follow. But from what I could understand, they were going to execute the man.

I had no idea what else to say or how to communicate with them. So I ordered them to let the man and family go free. “Leave these people alone,” I commanded.

He spoke rapidly again. I couldn’t understand everything, but I heard the word Cathar and he pointed to the family. They must be some of Celia’s people.

“I demand you release him,” I said, trying to put as much menace in my voice as I could.

The two men looked at each other, then back at me, and burst out laughing.

“Non,” they said. They must have understood some of what I’d said. Or like Celia and her party, they did speak English, but chose not to reveal it. Was everyone in this cursed country so deceitful when it came to language?

“In the name of the Knights Templar I demand you step aside,” I said, rising up slightly on the balls of my feet, ready to move.

They did not answer but started for me. I retreated slowly, trying to draw them away from the family. Maryam emerged from between two buildings on the other side of the square, and silently moved toward the family.

When I had drawn the men past the first hut, I stopped and let them close in on me, all the while keeping Maryam in my peripheral vision. She had reached the people now, and with her dagger, quickly cut the man’s bonds and tried to rouse him. She needed more time.

The men had smiles on their faces as they approached. They had the advantage in numbers, skill and experience. I had only my sword and my righteous indignation.

“Tell me,” I said. “Do you enjoy beating up small children?”

The men just kept coming forward, but they were cautious now. They saw the short blade in my hand and Sir Thomas’ weapon laced across my back and would not be easily duped. Maryam had managed to pull the woman to her feet, and together they were lifting up the husband. She carried the unconscious boy under one arm, and the little girl followed along as they headed toward the woods.

And then my plan fell apart.

The soldier closest to me caught me looking behind him and looked back to find Maryam leading the family away. He cursed and his companion immediately took off toward them.

“Maryam! Look out!” I shouted.

She looked back to see the soldier closing fast.

Maryam handed the boy to the mother, pushed her and the girl toward the woods and lowered the unconscious father to the ground. As the soldier approached, she ululated in her horrible Hashshashin war cry and drew her daggers, waiting for his charge as he came at her, sword high.

The other soldier raised his sword and charged me. I quickly darted between the buildings and raced around the far corner, with him fast behind me. I wanted him to chase me, for I was afraid if I stood and fought, he could easily defeat me before the woman and her children could hide. I ran quickly around the building and tried to circle back on him. I’d temporarily lost sight of him and paused at the next corner, my back to the wall, trying to hear over Maryam’s shouts.

I waited. Five seconds. Ten. Then a shadow fell across the ground, coming slowly toward the corner. When it was close enough, I jumped out, swinging with all my might.

But he was expecting it and ducked my swing. My blade glanced off the timber of the hut. He thrust back at me, and I barely pulled my sword back in time to block his stroke.

We traded blow upon blow, both of us swinging desperately. He tried to push me back against the wall of the hut, but I refused to give ground. Then he swung at me with an overhead strike, and as I raised my sword up to block his blade, he slashed me across the forearm. I gasped in pain, and staggered backward. He raised his weapon again and came at me. I launched myself at him before he could bring the blade down and hit him squarely in the chest with my shoulder. He stumbled backward, giving me time to switch hands.

My arm burned and I was angry now. I tried to remain cool, but images of Philippe and the small boy being treated like an animal clouded my vision. Swinging wildly, I gave him no chance to mount an offensive, but he was