The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) by James Mercer (ink ebook reader txt) 📗

at sundown. The Commander had said such a time worked in their favour so they could avoid recognition of themselves and their muzzled prisoner. Sentries had shouted their challenges but were quickly silenced when Sir Elizondo came into view and announced that it was three Crusader knights and their men returning.

   “John, go and seek out where the late Count’s retinue is and we shall follow,” said the Commander.

  The young squire encouraged his horse to quicken its pace in the direction of King Pedro of Aragon’s army. His banner could still be seen in the fading light.

   “It is here I must depart and return to my Brothers of the Templar Order,” said Sir Elizondo.

   “Stay safe, Sir Elizondo, for you are a Brother we can ill afford to lose,” answered Reynard, holding out his arm.

   The Templar knight grasped it in friendship and then did the same with Robert.

  “Send word if you have need of me.”

   “We shall,” replied Robert.

Nearing the outskirts of the Aragonese forces they spied John returning to them.

   “I have been ordered to ask you to visit my lord’s nephew, Sir Bryan,” he reported.

   “Very well. Ruscar, you and the men wait here with our companion; we shall not be gone long. Please John, lead the way.”

  Arriving at the late count’s quarters Robert was impressed by the retinue that had accompanied him. He had not expected the Brotherhood member to have so many men-at-arms.

   “Likely hired specifically for the Crusade,” said Reynard, reading his friend’s thoughts.

  The men-at-arms stood silent and looked at the two unknown knights with suspicion.

   “How many knights came with the Count squire John?”

   “Six, Commander.”

   “And one of them is Sir Bryan?”

   “Yes sir. The count has a son back in the north but it will be Sir Bryan who will take command here.”

   “And he is a good man?” asked the Commander.

   “He is sir.”

   “Good.”

  The Commander paused before speaking again.

  “John, you have served your lord well and for that I commend you. I do not wish to offend but if there is no place for you here anymore and you have need of a new lord to serve, you would be welcome to join my men and I.”

   “In your mercenary army Commander?” asked John hesitantly.

   “The very one,” smiled the Commander. “Do not fear John. They are a fierce clan of fighters but they are loyal and follow a strict code of honour and conduct which I firmly enforce.”

   “You honour me Sir Reynard. I shall certainly consider your offer,” answered the squire thoughtfully.

   “My army is camped amongst the forces of King Sancho.”

  After a brief talk with the count’s nephew and a well-spun tale explaining how the brave count was killed, the Commander and Robert departed the cluster of tents bearing the coat-of-arms of the fallen Count Rolf of Kendricks.

   “So Sir Robert, looking forward to seeing your concubine?” asked Reynard, trying to lighten the mood.

  Robert was thankful that the poor light hid his smile yet the Commander still chuckled.

“So they return finally,” said Alfonso, holding the reins of the Commander’s horse.

  The captain had been walking the perimeter of the Forgotten Army’s campsite, making sure that all the sentries were alert. He had heard one of the men nearby call a challenge for those approaching to declare themselves. When the Commander had announced who he was, he complimented the sentry who at first had apologised.

  The Commander dismounted and embraced his old friend.

   “Robert, can you and the lads see to the horses and then organise accommodation for our new guest. Remember, I want two men at all times.”

   “Aye Commander.”

  The Commander handed his horses reins to Robert and walked into the camp with the captain.

   “So all went well?” asked Alfonso.

   “Not as well as one would have hoped,” answered the Commander.

   “Losses?”

   “Losses indeed, including several of our own.”

   “And our new guest?”

  Although he was not an official member of the Brotherhood he knew enough. Alfonso de Mantes had escaped Palestine with the Commander many years ago and it had been then that Reynard had confided in him. After their escape he had helped him create the Forgotten Army. The Commander began to explain Esca’s role, including that of Constantinople and England.

   “The men do not know of Esca’s participation back at Bridgenorth and it must stay that way,” said the Commander firmly.

   “I agree. So what do you intend for him?”

   “He is to remain in our custody until Anzac sends word. In the meantime it may work in our favour and draw out any others who are in league with the snake. Now, two things of the upmost importance where’s the food and where’s my tent? I’m famished and could easily sleep for a day.”

Once Robert and his fellows had dealt with the horses, they half dragged, half carried the Cardinal through the camp. There was an empty dog-eared excuse for a tent at the end of one of the rows.

   “Bind his feet,” Robert ordered, closing the tent flap at the front.

  The cleric was too exhausted to struggle. Robert knelt down and pulled the gag free.

   The Cardinal coughed as he inhaled.

  Robert said nothing and produced a water canteen.

   “Feeling a little parched?” he asked.

  The prisoner stared at it hungrily. His hands were still bound behind his back and they were by no means loose. He despaired at the thought that the squalid conditions he had bared in the company of the Templar had been able to sink even lower.

   “If he’s as bad a bugger as the Commander says, let ‘im suffer a bit longer,”