anywhere but on guard duty.
“Maryam,” I said. “I think this is where we should say good-bye.”
Sadness flitted across her face, but then she nodded.
“Thank you for guiding us here. I hope that you will make it safely to wherever you are going next,” I said.
“Good-bye, Tristan. Good-bye, Archer. I hope our paths will cross again sometime,” she said.
I felt like I should say more, but I had no idea what. She looked at me expectantly, but then turned her gaze on Robard. No matter what she was, I no longer felt like she was my enemy. And I don’t think Robard did either, although he was probably loath to admit it.
“Yes. Well. Good-bye. Nice knowing you. Thanks for not killing us while our backs were turned,” he said.
To my surprise Maryam laughed. Her hand darted out, and she briefly squeezed Robard on the forearm. Robard’s face turned red at her touch, and he was suddenly consumed by a coughing fit.
With a smile Maryam turned and strolled off down the street.
Robard and I watched her go, then turned toward the guard.
“State your business,” he ordered as we approached.
“I am Tristan of St. Alban’s, squire to Brother Knight Sir Thomas Leux of the Dover Commandery most recently deployed in Acre. I have a report for the Marshal,” I answered.
“I know of Sir Thomas, but I don’t know you. Do you have proof of this?” he asked.
“I do. I carry his sword,” I said, turning so the sergeanto could see the battle sword that I carried across my back. I also showed him the Templar seal carved into the hilt of my short sword. The sergeanto nodded but wasn’t completely satisfied.
“Who is this?” he asked, pointing to Robard.
“This is Robard Hode, formerly of the King’s Archers. He has accompanied me from Acre. Please, sergeanto, we saw Saracen patrols not more than a day away. I have urgent news for the Marshal. May we enter?”
His eyes flew open when I mentioned the nearby Saracens. He considered us a moment longer, then stepped aside and opened the gate.
“You will find the Marshal in the office off the meeting room in the main hall,” he said.
This Commandery was quite similar to the one in Dover, with only minor differences in the construction of the buildings. It was made of mud bricks and once inside smelled like wet dirt, but the layout was almost identical.
Entering the main hall, it felt unusually quiet. I was used to the hubbub of the barracks and grounds in Acre, but perhaps the knights were off on patrols or performing other duties. A squire sitting at a table mending a harness directed us to the Marshal. He pointed to the left where a corridor led away from the main hall.
There was a small room at the end of the corridor, and as we approached, I could see through the doorway a man, dressed in a Marshal’s tunic, sitting at a wooden table writing on parchment. A sergeanto stood next to him holding several more sheets, waiting for the Marshal’s signature.
I knocked on the doorway.
“Sire, I beg your pardon for the disturbance, but I bring news from Acre and the knights there,” I said.
Both men looked up. The Marshal studied me for a moment. He was a small man, balding and round faced. His eyes were dark, and it looked like a permanent frown was etched on his face. As he regarded me, his face was expressionless, but I could see cunning in his eyes. Something told me to be careful with what I said.
“You may enter,” he said.
Stepping before his desk, I was about to begin my report when a voice from the corner of the room interrupted me. “I was wondering when you would show up.”
A voice, contemptuous and full of hate, that I would know anywhere. My knees trembled and the blood rushed through my ears, and for a moment I thought I might faint.
My eyes needed to see to be sure that my ears did not deceive me, so I turned to look and there he was, standing in the corner, near a window that bathed the room in soft light.
Sir Hugh.
27
This is the one I spoke of, Marshal Curesco,” Sir Hugh said. His smile told me all I needed to know. It was a spider’s smile, if spiders were to actually smile. He could barely contain his glee at finding me here. But how could this be? How could he have escaped from Acre? And more important, did he know what I carried here?
Sir Hugh’s tunic looked freshly cleaned. He appeared fit and rested. True, he hadn’t done much fighting in Acre, but now to see him up close, I was astounded to find him free of any signs of warfare or battle. No wounds or scars. Not a bruise to be seen. Just his pinched face and that same scraggly beard.
The Marshal looked at Sir Hugh, then at me. “Is that so?” he said.
“This one has been nothing but trouble since he joined the order. He has no doubt deserted his post in Acre, and it appears he has stolen Templar property.”
“What? I have not stolen anything,” I protested loudly.
“Then how do you explain this sword?” Sir Hugh strode across the room, drawing the sword that hung across my back. “This sword belonged to Sir Thomas Leux of my regimento. I would like to know how this boy has possession of it,” he said.
Marshal Curesco looked at me, waiting for an answer.
“This is Sir Thomas’ sword, that is true. But he gave it to me when I left Acre. Under his orders.” I turned, staring directly at Sir Hugh when I spoke. He didn’t hold my gaze, walking around behind the table to stand at Marshal Curesco’s side, opposite the other knight.
“And why did he order you away from Acre, exactly?” the Marshal asked.
“The Saladin’s forces breached the city walls. We fought hand to hand through the city. The knights prepared to make a last stand in the Crusaders’ Palace. There is a secret passage there. Sir Thomas sent me through it with orders to travel to Tyre as quickly as I could and deliver the news. I met up with Robard a few days’ journey from Tyre and we traveled here together,” I told him.
The Marshal’s eyes narrowed and he leaned back in his chair, trying to take it all in.
“When did you leave Acre?” he asked.
“More than a week ago. Sir Thomas gave me strict instructions to travel only at night. That slowed me down. We had some encounters with bandits, but managed to run them off.” I didn’t mention the Assassins. No sense in giving out too many details.
“This is absurd,” Sir Hugh cried. “He is obviously a liar and a thief. We should throw him in the jail immediately!”
Marshal Curesco held up his hand, silencing Sir Hugh.
“Do you have anything that proves your story?” Marshal Curesco asked.
For a moment I regretted leaving Sir Thomas’ ring and letter hidden with the Grail. But instinct had commanded me, and no doubt Sir Hugh would have accused me of stealing the ring as well.
“Just this. If I am the thief Sir Hugh thinks I am, why would I bother to come straight here to the Commandery and report to you, with my ‘stolen’ sword so plainly in sight? Why would I not just slip away?”
Marshal Curesco glanced at Sir Hugh and seemed on the verge of considering my argument.
“And there’s one more thing, another reason why I came immediately here. A few days ago we narrowly escaped detection by a patrol of Saracens.”
Marshal Curesco immediately leapt to his feet. “Saracens? Are you certain?” he asked.
Throughout this entire exchange, Robard had remained silent in the corridor behind me. He decided now was the time to speak up.
“Of course we’re certain. I’ve been fighting them nonstop for the last two years. I think I know what a Saracen looks like,” he offered. And for added effect he looked directly at Sir Hugh, as if sensing his natural cowardice, and said, “Do you?”
Sir Hugh glared at Robard but said nothing.
