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

the tent of King Sancho. A council of war had been called and the Commander had been summoned along with the rest of the Navarrese lords.

  Around them, other knights and decorated men-at-arms awaited their lords, just like the three who awaited Sir Reynard Sancerre. As the Commander pulled himself up onto his palfrey he took a deep breath.

   “Bad news?” asked Hamish.

   “No. Just long winded. King Sancho met with the King of Castile and the other generals. They have agreed the time has come ‘to take the sword to the infidel’.”

   “About bloody time. The men are getting restless.”

   “The Caliph Al-Nasir has started an offensive north with an army nearly twice our number,” the Commander continued.

   “More the glory for us then,” replied Alfonso cheerfully.

   “The King has given orders that the men are not to know of the Caliph’s superior numbers lest we start getting deserters. With the loss of those French cowards, we can’t afford to lose any more men.”

   “Makes sense. So when do we start?”

   “Make preparations to break camp tomorrow.”

*****

   “You want me to do what?” said Robert, wondering if he was hearing right.

   “Rob, the Order knows we’re here. If they capture the two of us, we’re done for. The best way to keep them disordered is to part until the Brotherhood is called and we make our stand against them.”

   “And you think sending me and the men ahead as a scouting party is our best option?”

   “Why not? I told you that was always my plan. Anyhow, it would be even better if they were to find out you had gone. It would mean they would have to split their limited forces as well. The other Generals will be doing the same thing. Rob you have some of the best warriors in the whole army, so go and lead them.”

  Robert sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to win this argument.

   “And what of Selva?”

   “She will be safe under the protection of Alfonso.”

  Robert was at least satisfied by that. Over the last few weeks, the captain and Selva had become friends. But he felt ashamed that he was still hoping the captain’s intentions were totally honourable.

  Reynard laughed when he recognised the look on Robert’s face.

   “Rob, he’s old enough to be her father, even grandfather at a push.”

  Robert flushed with embarrassment and hurriedly bid the Commander farewell.

   “And Robert.”

   “Sir?”

   “The lands to the south are not to be trusted. Whether those you encounter appear to be friend or foe, be on your guard always.”

   “I will. Thank you Reynard.”

Robert hesitantly approached Selva’s tent. His hands were clammy again and his heart raced. He felt as nervous and petrified as he had done all those years ago in her father’s gardens. Knocking on the timber pole which held the front of her tent up, he waited for a reply.

  Nothing.

  Clearing his throat loudly, he gently spoke her name.

   “Selva, it’s Robert. May I come in?”

   “You could of course, if I was inside,” came a voice from behind him.

  He swung round and caught his breath as his eyes fell upon her, reminding him again how beautiful she was. She had discarded the silk gown and shawl she had worn into the camp and was now dressed in a weathered green cotton dress, her head draped with a white scarf as protection from the sun. Although her finery had been replaced by the same attire worn by the mass of common folk who wandered Toledo, she still looked a vision.

  His eyes quickly drifted down her slender figure. Quickly realising what he was doing his eyes darted up to lock eyes with hers once again. There was an expression of amusement on her face with a slight smile. She clearly enjoyed him admiring her.

   “Speak to her you fool” his mind was telling him.

Gathering his thoughts, he finally spoke.

   “I have to leave,” he said abruptly.

   “Will you be returning soon?” she replied, her face changing to a frown. “You said you would protect me!”

   “The Captain Alfonso will continue that duty and yes, I shall of course return.”

   “Where do you go?”

   “South. My men and I have been tasked with scouting ahead of the army.”

   “So it is dangerous?”

   “It is. But my men and I have faced worse,” he replied.

  The young maiden lifted her hands and revealed a silver chain which encircled her neck. An engraved silver disc, no bigger than a coin, hung from it. She lifted it off, stepped forward and fastened it around his neck. A shiver ran down his spine as her soft hands moved against his skin.

   “Wear this on your journey for me. Then you shall have to return,” she said.

   “Selva, I can’t take this,” he whispered.

   “It is Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travellers. He will protect you on your journey.”

  Robert had no words to say.

   “Go with God at your side, Sir Robert Spurling,” she smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

  Pulling away he looked upon her with his light grey eyes.

   “I shall return,” he said firmly.

  For as well as his sacred duty to the Brotherhood, he now had something more beautiful to return to.

*****

Within moments of the scouting party assembling on the outskirts of the Forgotten Army’s camp, Cherik started to object to his new apparel. Under Robert’s orders, Jimmy had already distributed the new surcoats displaying the colours of his father’s house.

   “I look like a fucking court jester,” growled Cherik.

  The German’s leg had recovered quicker than expected and he was eager to be away from the boredom of