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

Brotherhood, but deep down, he was still a mercenary. He was still a killer, a phrase that he had never liked the sound of.

  Arriving at the tent, he stood for a moment, while the two sentries lifted their poleaxes. He knew the Commander would be awake already. As he entered, he heard Reynard’s voice before seeing him.

   “It is done then?”

   “It is done.”

   “No casualties?”

   “On our side, none.”

   “Witnesses?”

   “None.”

   “She is under your protection Robert. That means she is your responsibility. The men will talk and ask why you get the chance of having a woman in the camp. You will have to use your authority as a knight, it’s the only way to quiet them.”

   “Aye sir. May I suggest a separate tent sir?”

   “A wise choice. Go and see Godfrey about the matter. But be mindful Rob. Remember we’re in a camp full of men whose lives evolve around loot, bloodshed and women. A pretty lass like that will attract attention.”

   “Yes Commander and thank you.”

By the time he returned to his tent, Jürgen and Cherik had left to get some sleep but Wilfred was sitting at the fire with Jimmy. The grizzly rogue merely grinned when he saw his old protégé.

   “Soup?” he asked, offering a bowl toward him.

  The fresh broth bubbling over the flames smelt delicious. Wilf had always been good at making a tasty meal out of meagre rations.

   “Is she awake?”

   “Aye, she asked where the man who brought her here had gone,” replied Jimmy.

  Robert approached their tent and took a deep breath. He looked in to see Selva sitting on the wooden pegged, animal skin bed. She merely stared at the other side of the tent at the jumble of clothes and other items that he and Jimmy had piled up.

  He was slightly unsure of how to proceed and then realised that something was happening which had not happened in years. His palms were starting to sweat and the air around him felt clammy.

   “Are you comfortable?” he asked nervously.

  She did not reply.

   “I have spoken with my Commander. A tent of your own, will arrive later today … to give you more privacy.”

  Still nothing.

   “Do you not remember me Selva?”

  Finally she turned her head and looked at him.

   “I always dreamed you would come back for me Robert Oldfield,” she answered quietly.

   “You do remember!” he said relieved.

  She then got to her feet and continued to stare.

   “Only one man I know has grey eyes like those.”

  Robert smiled affectionately.

  Then suddenly she stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face.

   “What in Christ’s name did you do that for?” he asked shocked, seeing stars.

   “But your eyes did not stop my father from marrying me to a pig twice my age. They did not come back for me.”

   “I was on a Crusade!”

   “And the Crusade ended,” she answered angrily.

  He couldn’t believe it. The few moments they shared in her father’s gardens was all the time they had ever spent together, but Selva was making it sound as if they had been an infatuated couple who made love every night.

   “Selva … I am sorry. Truly I am. But the Crusade did not finish for me in Constantinople.”

   “So you went to Palestine?”

   “No, I had to go back to England.”

   “Then why could you not have come for me on your way back?”

  There were tears in her eyes. The only explanation Robert could think of was that the last few years had been cruel to her.

   “Selva, I had nothing. No money, no land, no home. What could I have given you?”

   “You could have given me the love that showed in your eyes, when you would look at me back in Zara. That would have been enough.”

  She turned away from him, doing her best to hide her grief. Robert’s head was spinning. He took a deep breath and then placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

   “You are safe now. I will see to your comforts and have food brought for you. We will talk some more later.”

  After her tent arrived Robert rushed through the camp, doing his best to find furnishings to suit her needs. He bartered and traded with nearly a dozen people to make her temporary quarters a little more comfortable than his and Jimmy’s messy dwelling.

  In the early evening he showed her to her own tent which was only two down from his own. She thanked him and then went inside, doing up the fastenings of the canvas entrance. Relieved that she was content, he went over to the fire where his friends were turning the carcass of a goat on a spit. Robert had not eaten all day and the wafts of the sizzling meat was mouth-watering.

  The others could not help but smile as he slumped down beside them. He looked exhausted.

   “I reckon you’ve looked better after a full length battle,” chuckled Wilfred.

   “I certainly feel like it,” he grumbled.

  His friends laughed and handed him a platter with a good portion of freshly cut meat and a wine skin.

Over the following few days Selva’s mood started to soften. She would rarely leave the confines of her tent but on the few occasions she had appeared she would return the smiles of the men who greeted her.

  Although Robert trusted his friends with his life, he had warned her to remain close to the small community of tents in his own unit. He had noticed several of the men, not yet known by Robert, would pass by and look at her hungrily.