“I knew it,” Maryam whispered to Robard, who nodded emphatically. Angel was overjoyed to find Celia there. She ran to her, and Celia knelt to scratch her behind the ears, smiling. “Hello, little Angel,” she said.
“So I take it you got our message? I hope no one was hurt,” I finally said.
She reached out her hand, and the light reflected off Sir Thomas’ Templar ring. I took it from her and she smiled.
“Message received, and no harm done,” she said. She greeted Robard and Maryam.
“Welcome to Montsegur,” she said. “Please allow me to extend all hospitality. Jean-Luc, I’m sure they must be hungry and tired. Can you see they are fed and have a place to sleep?” She spoke these words in French, but slowly, so I could follow along. My face fell, though, for after everything we had gone through to get here, I had no wish to leave Celia’s company so soon.
“I am not. . Robard and Maryam may be. . I’m not hungry, thank you,” I finally spat out. Celia’s presence severely limited my ability to speak. In fact, I was starving, but I decided on the spot to give up food forever if it meant remaining in Celia’s presence.
“Come along, Robard. I’m sure Tristan has much to discuss with Celia. Let us find a place to rest. We could both use it.” Maryam took Robard gently by the arm and followed Jean-Luc into a darkened corner of the courtyard. We were finally alone.
“Why did you come here, Templar?” she asked.
She got right to the point.
“It wasn’t our original plan. We left our camp and headed south to the beach, intending to head to Perpignan and find a ship. But we encountered your friend the High Counsel. .”
“He is no friend of mine!” she interrupted.
“Yes, so I gathered. He’s a rather unpleasant fellow. At any rate, we convinced him that you had headed to Perpignan, to throw him off your trail. And according to Robard, he did go there, but quickly learned you and your party had not been seen there and returned to track you here.”
“How did Robard know all of this?”
“It’s a long story and not terribly exciting, I’m afraid.”
“As you can see,” she said, sweeping her arms in a wide circle, “I have nothing but time.”
“Let’s just say we split up for a while, but we all reconnected and now we’re here.”
“I see.”
“I just felt I should try to help, if I could,” I said. The details were unimportant. She undoubtedly had more important matters on her mind.
“It was good of you to come, Templar, and we can certainly use your help, but I fear you are now trapped here with us for a while.”
We didn’t say anything else for a few moments, which I spent trying not to stare at Celia. But she had her hair pushed up off her face with a headband, and the way the firelight reflected off her held me transfixed.
“Celia, there is more, something else I must tell you.”
“Yes?” She looked at me expectantly.
“We met up with Philippe. He. . When we found him. .” I couldn’t tell her.
“Out with it, Templar.”
“He didn’t make it. Philippe is dead. He single-handedly fought six of the High Counsel’s men and managed to kill four of them before he died. We. . Robard, Maryam and I, we encountered. . and took care of the other two.” One of them, at least, permanently.
Grief washed over Celia’s face in a wave. Her eyes moistened instantly.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.
She nodded in thanks, but said nothing. A single tear left her eye and rolled gently down her cheek. My brain told my arm to reach out then. To embrace her and wipe the tear away. But I did not. My arm felt frozen in place.
“I wish I could. .” I stopped, for my words sounded empty even to me. I felt useless, standing there like a statue, unable to comfort her.
“Poor Philippe,” she finally said.
“Had he served your father long?” I asked, desperate for her to talk or do anything but cry.
“Since I was a child. My father wished for Philippe and I to marry.”
Her words hit me like a hammer to the stomach. She was to marry Philippe? I had thought, by the way they acted together, with her clearly in charge, that their relationship was adversarial if nothing else.
“Really? Then I am doubly sorry,” I said, not meaning a word of it. I was instantly aware that I was guilty of the sin of jealousy, but I would ask forgiveness later.
“Yes. It was my father’s wish, not mine. I am. . was. . fond of Philippe, but I had no desire to marry him.”
“I see,” I said, trying to keep the joy out of my voice. But my happiness was immediately replaced by guilt, when I remembered that the poor man had bravely given his life for her. What had become of me? What were these feelings that consumed me? Right then I was further crushed by the loss of Sir Thomas. I wished he were there. Or Sir Basil, or Quincy. I wished I could talk to them about this woman who made me feel so strange.
Celia was quiet, to gather herself.
“Celia, would you like me to go with you to tell your father about Philippe?” I offered.
She shook her head. “No, thank you, but my father is not here. When I went to conference with the archbishop, my father left for Paris to petition the King for help. He won’t return for some time.”
This was not good news. I had assumed Celia’s father would be in command of his men-at-arms. Jean-Luc acted capable, but Philippe had said he had very little experience, and he was not much older than me. I silently cursed my luck. My talent for placing myself in dangerous and nearly hopeless situations apparently knew no bounds.
“Thank you for coming back, Templar, and for being there with Philippe at the end. I know he loved me, and though I could not return those feelings, he was a good man, a loyal servant to my father and a fierce protector of our people. When this is over, we shall celebrate his life as is our way, but if Philippe were here now, he would say, ‘First things first.’ Come. Let me find you a hot meal and a bed. You must be exhausted.”
“Celia, about Philippe. When I found him, he was very near death. I promised him a Christian burial, but he insisted I not waste the time. He demanded I come to you immediately. I hope it was the right thing.”
She smiled and closed her eyes, lost in some pleasant memory. “It was, Tristan. You did exactly the right thing. Do not worry. I know our beliefs may sound strange to you. But we are a simple people, devout in our own way. You did exactly as Philippe would have wished. Come let me show you our fortress.”
She held out her hand for me to take. I stood there, unable to move any part of my body. She looked down at her hand, then up at my face and quietly laughed. She finally took my hand in hers, and I couldn’t be certain, but a bolt of lightning may have traveled directly from my hand to my brain. She took a torch from a sconce on the wall nearest us and led me across the courtyard to an area beneath the battlements where several cook fires still blazed. A few men and women busied about, cooking and talking cheerfully to one another. At a command from Celia, a plate of simmering meat and vegetables was placed in my hand.
The aroma was so enticing that it took every ounce of my self-control not to devour the entire portion in one gulp. However, I would need to let go of her hand to eat, and I had no wish to do so. Standing there, feeling temporarily safe and happy, I voted for starvation over severing our physical connection. But she released my hand and sat on a nearby barrel so I could eat.
When I had finished the meal, Celia led me up a set of stairs to a second level of the castle keep, then down a corridor to a small room with no door.
“Our accommodations are not elegant, but they will have to do.” She placed the torch in a holder on the wall. The room was indeed small and windowless, with only a straw mattress on the floor, but it was much better than sleeping directly on the cold stone.
“This will do me fine,” I said. “Where are Maryam and Robard?”
“They are down the hall, in their own rooms. I’m sure they’re fast asleep by now. All of you must be exhausted. We’ll talk more in the morning,” she said as she moved to leave.
“Celia, wait, I have many questions,” I said. Actually I had very few, but I did not wish her to leave. She smiled at me.
