Every day we hiked from first light until well after sundown. For the first three days, the travel was strenuous as we moved in and out of the mountain valleys. We skirted major farms and villages, and after Celia’s supply of food ran out, we foraged for whatever we could find. Sir Hugh would expect us to turn south and head to the coast, so taking the more difficult route would at least cover our tracks for a time.
Robard and Maryam never complained. After a few days, Robard took to circling back to scout for us. Each morning he would take his leave while Maryam and I headed ever northward, and then at nightfall, as if by magic, he found us. Robard was at home in the forest, and although he talked incessantly of returning to Sherwood, he was more content than at any time since I’d met him.
One night Robard returned to our camp with a goose slung over his shoulder and carrying a bundle of birch saplings. He expertly butchered the goose while Maryam made a fire, and before long we had dinner cooking over the flames. Angel sat on her haunches very near the fire, whining and pawing at the dirt and staring hungrily at the meat.
While we rested, Robard inspected the birch saplings, holding them up to his eye as if to judge their straightness. Some he discarded, but in the end he had about a dozen he found suitable.
“What are you doing?” Maryam asked.
“Making arrows,” he replied. “We can’t go into a town or city, and besides, I wouldn’t trust a Frank fletcher anyway. So I’ve got to make my own. Luckily I found a goose. I’ve extra points, but no feathers.”
Robard pulled a small pouch from his wallet. Inside were arrowheads and a small roll of string. It was interesting to watch him work because he was so meticulous. With his small knife, he carved a notch at the head of the piece of birch until the arrowhead would fit in it precisely. Then he wound the string around the arrowhead, tying it off tightly.
Tying on the feathers was the most difficult and time-consuming part of the job. Robard carefully trimmed a goose feather in half, and when he had three pieces of relatively equal size, he used a bit of tree sap to hold them to the shaft temporarily. He then wound each feather carefully with string, moving it back and forth between the barbs until it was securely fastened.
“There!” he said, holding up the finished masterpiece proudly. “An arrow suitable for a King’s Archer.” At the mention of the King, of course, Robard spat on the ground.
Each arrow took a few hours to complete. He worked on them for the next several nights while we kept moving north. I had no idea where we were going specifically, only a general sense of direction. All I knew was that England and the Channel lay north of us, so I intended to walk until I reached the sea. I would worry about crossing when I got there. One night, as if reading my mind, Maryam asked how we would reach England.
“Once we arrive at this channel of yours, how do you intend to get us across it?” she asked.
“By ship,” I said, with confidence.
“I know by
Robard chuckled under his breath as he worked at completing another arrow.
“Still to be determined,” I said.
“In other words, you have no idea, as usual,” Maryam said.
“No, I have an
Maryam rolled her eyes. “I hate ships,” she said, remembering her experience in the storm.
“Me too,” I told her. “But we can’t walk to England.”
In a few days, Robard had managed to replenish his supply of arrows. His wallet was nearly full, but he kept a constant lookout for suitable shafts. Without him I don’t know if we would have survived. Each evening he returned from scouting with some type of game so we didn’t go hungry. The nights were cool, and sleeping on the ground made us stiff and sore. But after a few days, when it looked as if Sir Hugh might have lost our trail, I felt happier than I had in a long time.
I still thought constantly of Celia. But I enjoyed walking along with Maryam each day, with Angel trotting happily along beside us until she smelled something in the woods and darted after it, barking lustily. Each night, when Robard arrived and told us he had seen no sign of Sir Hugh or anyone else who might be following us, it buoyed my spirits even more.
I hadn’t grown careless or forgotten that Sir Hugh would still be coming. But because I had finally unburdened myself to Maryam and Robard, my steps were lighter. The Grail was no longer a millstone around my neck, because I had friends who stood beside me and helped me lift up what had so weighed down my spirits.
Still, we were cautious. Robard watched our backs, and Angel became adept at alerting us if strangers were nearby. She would stop with her head pointed in front of her and sniff the air, then let out a low growl of warning. Maryam and I learned to recognize this pose and what it meant, and when she took it, we would scamper off the trail or find a thicket or stand of trees to hide in. Angel would follow us and stand ready but silent until the danger had passed.
We saw no soldiers or Templars, but many peasants and farmers. Invisibility was the key to our safety, for if no one saw us, then no one could tell Sir Hugh which way we traveled.
After we had been gone from Montsegur for nearly three weeks, Robard returned to camp one night with a worried look on his face.
“What is it?” I asked as he strode into the light of our small fire.
“I’m not certain,” he said, kneeling to warm his hands by the flames. “I’ve not seen a soul, but I circled back toward the village we passed last night,” he said. “North of there I found signs of a large group of horses headed this way. But I lost their tracks at the river. They must have ridden a ways in the shallows. I couldn’t find where they came out on either side. It bothers me how they headed this way first, but then vanished.”
“Do you think it might be Sir Hugh?” I wondered.
“I’m not sure. But it was a large group, so it had to be either soldiers or knights. It may be the local baron’s fyrd, but I don’t like how their tracks disappeared. It means they’re trying to conceal themselves. Why would the local fyrd act so?”
Neither Maryam nor I had an answer. At nightfall we agreed to take turns standing watch. Robard was still full of energy from his scout, so he volunteered to go first. Maryam would stand second, then wake me for the final hours until morning. Despite the tension and worry, I lay down near the fire, Angel settling in next to me, and fell asleep instantly.
Maryam shook me awake after her watch. I was groggy and out of sorts, having never been a person who wakes easily from sleep. Angel rolled over as Maryam took my spot on the ground, then settled next to her and was quickly back to sleep.
I squatted by the fire to warm myself, then stood, trying to ease the soreness out of my legs. The woods were quiet, and I guessed we had about three hours till sunrise. Robard lay on the other side of the fire, opposite Maryam, snoring quietly. His bow and wallet leaned against a tree next to him. I had slept with the short sword and battle sword close by, and I shrugged my way into them, still trying to come fully awake.
For a few minutes I paced around the edge of camp, stopping to listen to the sounds of the night. I heard nothing out of the ordinary. After half an hour I grew bored. Robard’s news had me on edge. I leaned with my back against the trunk of a tall tree and looked up at the sky. It was an overcast evening, and only the small flicker of flame provided any light.
Perhaps I could gather some more wood and build the fire up a bit. But before I could move, an arm came from behind the tree and a hand clamped over my mouth. I tried to shout out a warning, but only a slight grunt escaped.
Then it seemed as if the darkness exploded into movement. Maryam screamed and several man-sized shapes converged on the fire. Maryam rolled to her feet and ran out of the small circle of light, disappearing into the blackness. Robard shouted curses, and Angel became a symphony of barks and snarls.
My hand tried desperately to pull my short sword, but another arm clamped mine in place. I was helpless in the strong grip of my assailant. I twisted my head back and forth, and when I felt one of the fingers tear at my cheek, I bit down hard. A yelp sounded from behind me and I was momentarily released.
