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

  He took no offence.

   “We were given a mission that he had no choice to accept.”

   “Yes, that’s what he said,” she snapped.

   “Did he ever say that he remained faithful to you?”

  Selva turned and stared at him with a look of both fury and astonishment.

   “How would you know such things?”

   “Because I know him best. He would always decline the offers made to him on our journey back to England. And his sisters told me he never found a companion during the years he was in England. Whatever you did to him in Zara certainly bewitched him.”

   She started to redden and turned to hide her embarrassment, busying herself with removing the apron she was wearing.

   Reynard paused and then added, “He is one of the finest, most honourable men you could meet. Whatever mistakes you think he may have made, I would ask you to allow him to make amends.”

  With that the Commander smiled and continued his stroll, leaving the maiden to fuss with the ties of her apron.

   “Thank you Commander.”

  His words forced her to reconsider the assumptions she had made about the absent warrior.

For a long time she had been convinced he had abandoned her and gone off whoring and looting with his friends.

It was close to sunset when the Commander finished his walk. It had been stimulating to walk amongst his men, ask after their health, speak of battles past and those to come. He was now standing alone by the paddock, admiring the powerful warhorses that had been won in a tourney by some of his men back in Toledo. The destriers were colossal beasts who would soon ride into battle, and God help any who stood in their path.

  Focused on the horses the Commander did not notice the three shadows that were slowly closing in around him. It was only when the scrape of a blade being drawn alerted him to their presence, but by then they had him cornered.

  Turning calmly, he appraised the three of them. By the quality of their armour, it was obvious that these men were no second-rate hire swords or bandits picked at random. Each one wore a helmet with a visor hiding their face.

  Two of them carried swords and the third a mace. Each of them carried a black shield and wore a black surcoat, giving no indication to who they served.

   “So, finally the Order sends suitable warriors to do their bidding,” he said, drawing his own sword. “About time.”

  The three men-at-arms remained silent and started to approach him. As they neared they raised their shields higher. The Commander may have been lacking his armour but his reputation as a swordsman was well known to them.

  Stalling for time, trying frantically to think of how he could best three fully armoured men with only his sword, he continued to talk.

   “So who exactly are you with? This rogue Templar, who has broken his oath? Or the Order itself whose crazed Grandmaster will gladly sacrifice all his knights for the treasures of Christ?

  One of the three briefly stopped, hesitated and then continued to approach. So at least one of them was a servant of the Order. These men were certainly not about to go down easily. With only a few feet from striking distance the rumbling of hooves could be heard.

  One of the men-at-arms foolishly glanced in the direction of the approaching noise, and Reynard immediately kicked out at the man’s shield forcing him to stumble backwards. At the same time he swung his sword at the other two, keeping them at bay.

  Seconds later the rumble of hooves materialised into the Master of the Keys on a handsome bay palfrey, wearing full armour with sword drawn. Sir Arnaud Taillefer brought his sword down on his nearest victim neatly slicing through the neck. Yanking on his reigns hard, he spun his mount round to face the second. The rear flank of the horse hit the headless body and sent it crashing into the man-at-arms who had been kicked off balance by the Commander. The headless corpse collided with him and the two bodies tumbled to the floor.

  The last of the trio who had been intent on capturing the Commander had been the fastest to react. After parrying Reynard’s original attack with his shield, he quickly smashed his mace into the chest of Sir Arnaud’s mount, causing the animal to rear up, whinnying in pain.

  Holding the reigns tight and with the help of the pommel, the knight succeeded in remaining in the saddle. But as soon as he regained control of the animal Sir Arnaud quickly dismounted to prevent any further injury to the horse. The Master of the Keys was a man of honour and now that the odds were even and it was one on one, according to his code he would not fight a man on foot while he was mounted.

  As Sir Arnaud jumped to the ground to face his opponent, the second swordsman freed himself from the headless corpse and got to his feet again. Reynard knew, from more than enough experience, that having to pull oneself up in full armour was no easy task. It would briefly sap a man of his strength as quickly as being in combat would.

  Using his own lack of armour to his advantage, Reynard blocked the man’s first attack firmly and then continued to move speedily around his opponent.  Denied his peripheral vision by the slits in his visor, the man-at-arms took a wild chance and spun round with his sword extended. His intention was to sever the Commander in two. Instead he met nothing and over balanced, allowing Reynard’s razor sharp blade to neatly