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

wore their Crusader surcoats. News of the victory at Tolosa had reached the city and the guards cheerfully saluted them as they rode past.

  Fitzbois had voiced his concern that they would be viewed with suspicion but he could not have been more wrong. The city teemed with wounded who could no longer march with the Crusader armies. So the company of six men, one a priest and three showing obvious injuries merely added to the throng that moved along the crowded streets.

   “I have become fond of Toledo, though I cannot say why,” mused Father Anzac.

   “Just another viper’s nest if you ask me,” answered Schaffer, his hand never straying too far from his sword.

   “Oh for sure. One can never be too careful,” said the priest, pointedly looking at Chevalier.

  Chevalier had been given clear warning that if he were to make one wrong move he would suffer. The knights of the Brotherhood had no doubt the Order knight had at least one contact within the city just as they did.

  They continued into the heart of the city until they reached the Cathedral. The open square seethed with a mass of pilgrims from all corners of the Christian world, as well as local merchants and soldiers. Leaving Chevalier under the guard of Squire Harold, Anzac and the other knights steered their horses further inward.

   “So here we must part ways again my friends,” Anzac said to Fitzbois and Sir Edward.

   “I hope not for the last Father Anzac,” replied Fitzbois.

   “I’ve no doubt we shall cross paths soon enough. Good luck and God be with you on your journey.”

   “And with you,” said Sir Edward.

  Sir Edward had insisted that he would not be hindered by his injury and they would continue their mission without delay.

   “You are sure you have no need for an escort?” asked the priest doubtfully.

  Although Anzac was confident that the knights continued to remain unknown to the Order, he was still concerned.

   “I assure you it is not necessary Father, I have friends north of the city. I will ask them to accompany us to our destination. Until then Sir Edward, Harold and I should be capable enough of deterring any who cross us.”

   “That’s all very well, but I need not tell you that that is not a mere trinket in your possession,” said Anzac, nodding to the leather pouch, which was discreetly attached to Fitzbois’s belt.

   “For pity’s sake,” groaned Schaffer. “Sir Edward, please send word once you have completed what needs to be done, just to give this old man peace of mind.”

   “I shall,” smiled Sir Edward.

Chevalier watched covertly from a distance as the four men conversed. The constant clamour of merchants shouting what goods they had for sale, preachers caterwauling to the crowds and the general chatter of passers-by, made it impossible to hear what was said amongst the Brotherhood knights and their priest.

  Finally he saw Anzac and Schaffer shake hands with Fitzbois and Sir Edward. He watched as the two knights remained where they were while the cleric and Schaffer returned to him and the squire. He noted the satchel was still strapped safely over Anzac’s shoulder.

   “Well Master Harold, tis time for you to say farewell to Sir Aguillard Chevalier and accompany Sir Edward and Sir Guillame,” said Anzac.

  Harold had been holding the reigns to Chevalier’s horse. He was a strong man in his twenties and had the qualities of a knight who would serve the Brotherhood well.

   He gave a respectful dip of the head. “As you wish Father.”

  He nodded a salute to Sir Frederick and then took one last look at Chevalier. The Order knight was part of the group responsible for his master’s death. His expression remained impassive. He had been charged with guarding the Order prisoner since they had parted ways with Commander Reynard and Sir Robert. He knew the duty had been an honourable one which he had taken seriously. Chevalier had attempted to talk with him on a few occasions but the squire had said very little in response.

   “May you find salvation in offering your services to my masters,” he said coldly.

   “I wish you a safe journey Harold,” replied Chevalier.

   “Right then, enough talk, you’ve other places to be, as have we,” said Schaffer impatiently.

  Harold nudged his horse forward and trotted over to Sir Edward and Sir Guillame. Watching them leave, Chevalier was trying to guess the most probable destination they were bound for but he could think of nothing.

   “I do envy them a little. Tis fine weather in Aquitaine this time of year,” said Father Anzac cheerfully.

   “Anything else you want to tell our guest?” growled Schaffer.

  Ignoring his companion’s mood, Anzac looked to Chevalier.

   “And then there were three,” he said.

   “You are maybe too confident Father, for the odds of escape, when there are only two of you, certainly weigh in my favour,” answered Chevalier.

   “How right you are. That is why we shall wait a while,” said Anzac.

  A group of monks walked past them and nodded their heads in respect which was returned by all three of them. One of the last of the monks stopped and made the sign of the cross.

   “God’s blessings be upon you brave Crusaders, what news from the south?” he asked shyly. “We heard last that you had beaten back the infidel and the armies continue to their heartland.”

   “That they do. The Crusader Generals are in process of taking the cities of Ubeda and Baeza,” answered Chevalier.

   “Then may God protect them too.”

   “Amen to that,” said Anzac.

  The last of the monks shuffled off towards the cathedral when Schaffer spoke.

   “Where the hell are they? The wailing of