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

her breasts pressed against him he could feel the blood rush to his loins. All the pain in his body seemed to fade as he slowly led her to their tent.

“Be gentle with me,” he muttered.

Selva gave a throaty chuckle as she ducked into the tent.

  The camp was alive with cheers of drunken warriors, some toasting victory, others drinking to the memory of their lost brothers-in-arms. Five men had stood with Alfonso to guard the Cardinal’s make-shift prison while the Commander and his Army had assaulted the city walls. Now a fresh guard of seven fully armed men circled the tent.

  The figure standing in the darkness amid the raucous celebrations was as still as a statue. “He must be in there. Why else have so many guard one tent?”

  A mercenary staggered past, muttering to himself and the stranger in the shadows took a step back. There were too many to risk it but now he was sure. The cleric was there and they would return for him when there were less guarding the enclosure.

Sweat glistened on the two bodies as Selva sat lightly upon her lover, her dark hair rippling over her shoulders. The light from the fires outside made her naked body glow and flicker and Robert stared at her, transfixed by her beauty. His injuries had been forgotten, only too aware of how each day could easily be their last.

  Breathing heavily, the maiden leant forward to kiss him and stayed there resting on her elbows. It was too dark to see her face clearly but Robert felt her eyes upon him.

   “So what now?” she asked.

   “What do you mean, what now?” he asked guardedly.

  She gently laughed at his reply.

   “I mean what will happen now? Will the Crusade continue south or will they distribute their men amongst the land they have taken?”

   “They press further south or maybe west.”

   “But would that not stretch their forces too thin?”

  Robert was not sure whether this was quite the conversation he had been expecting after their most recent experience, but despite that he was impressed.

   “It sounds like you’ve been listening to the men?”

   “If I am to accompany the army, it feels only right to understand it.”

   “Fair enough, truth is I don’t know. I guess we will find out over the next few days.”

   “That long?” she said in surprise.

   “Wouldn’t surprise me if it were longer. The Kings and their generals will have to weigh up if what they have achieved is enough to compensate what they have invested into the Crusade. Then comes the dividing of the spoils.”

   “And the Forgotten Army will receive a share of the spoils?”

   “We’ll get a small sum for our services but that could be weeks away. Remember that hire-swords are not the highest on a King’s agenda. Especially when there will be the discussions about who is to occupy the castles and cities taken in the campaign.”

  Selva carefully lifted herself off him and slid to his side, resting her head on his chest.

   “Will you march with the Crusade for long?”

   “I must march with the armies for as long as the Commander has need of me.”

  She could hear the exhaustion in his voice and considered his words. Her hand stroked his chest and she could feel the ridges of scars from past battles.

  She was not unhappy but she did not want a life traipsing across the dry lands of the Caliphate for months or maybe even years.

It had been two days since the city had fallen, and apart from one brief visit from Sir Diego informing them that Baeza had now been garrisoned, they had heard nothing more from King Sancho. There was rumour of discord amongst the generals and where the Crusader armies should go next but nothing was definite.

  With the men rested the Commander decided that the small party who had accompanied the Brotherhood knights would return to guarding their prisoner. In the early evening Robert donned his waist length mail shirt and a leather jerkin before setting off to relieve Ruscar and Guy. As the sun started to set over the horizon he saw Athaelstan appear from the avenue of tents and the two of them continued to where the Cardinal was still being held.

   “Anything to report?” asked Robert, as they arrived.

   “No sound from him in there, just a couple of men-at-arms who had got lost and a few men drunk out of their skulls, but nothing else,” said Guy.

   “Go get some rest then.”

  Peeking into the tent, Robert guessed by the light snoring that the cleric was asleep. For the first hour, he and Athaelstan quietly spoke of the last few days.

   “The double handed broadsword you used at Ubeda. Very few have I seen wield such a weapon without such difficulty,” complimented Athaelstan.

  The Varangian knew weapons and he knew that the tremendous sword carried far more weight than those carried by most of the men in the army.

   “I had a good teacher. I could say the same for you my friend. The captain, Hamish, is renowned for his deadly axe in battle but I think he may well have met his match.”

   “I too had the finest of teachers. Before and after each training session, he would have me exercise with a block of wood, nearly twice my weapon’s weight.”

   “Well it certainly paid off. I remember it to be a popular choice of the Varangian guard back in Constantinople.”

  It seemed strange to discuss the siege of Constantinople when each of them had been fighting against the other.

  Night soon fell upon the Crusader camp and their conversation ceased. Their fire had burnt down to a faint glow.