Outremer III

by D. N. Carter

  “Paul wrote a poem as I explained earlier to leave with Arri. He made a copy for Alisha…and leaving Arri was the hardest thing he had ever done. If he could have lain down with Arri and never woken up, he would have. But his love for Alisha and Ailia, plus Al Rashid and Taqi basically dragging him away forced him into action. Tenno was with him in body, but not in mind. Arri’s death hit him hard… very hard. He saw it as a personal failure not having fulfilled his promise to always watch over them and protect them. During the journey to Tiberias, Paul discussed at length how best to threaten or deal with Reynald, but also Tenno vowed he would not fail in his new charge of protecting Alisha and Ailia.”

  “But I thought Tenno was part of Al Rashid’s group?” Simon asked.

  “No, he never was. He just helped them…with training and tactics. Al Rashid released him from any obligations he felt he had to him and his organisation,” the old man answered.

  “And Taqi?” the Genoese sailor asked.

  “He was Ashashin through and through now. He stayed with them as far as Tiberias as I mentioned earlier. It was a sad parting made all the harder for Paul was in part afraid to go to Kerak for fear of what he would discover.”

  “What do you mean….as in Reynald?” Peter asked, confused.

  “No. On the night Alisha and Nicholas were together, Paul awoke, startled, as if his heart was about to fail him. He clutched his chest in pain. He sensed something and just knew it involved Alisha and Nicholas somehow. He tried to dismiss it and shook it off as just tiredness making him suspicious and fearful.…but he had long since learnt to trust his instincts and feelings. He had sat up and felt without any doubt something was wrong. It weighed heavy on his mind as they travelled south running over and over in his mind a thousand times what he would do, or should do, if his instincts were proved shockingly real. Taqi and Tenno put his long silences down to being exhausted and in grief for the loss of Arri, yet in truth he was in grief not only for that loss but also his whole way of life…and that included in his mind Alisha, plus the words of the female from beneath the pyramid’s warning constantly echoing through his mind. ’Twas the deepest sorrow and deepest wound that cut even beyond the bone,” the old man explained and sighed sadly.

  “You said Paul wrote a poem and copied it…do you know it?” Gabirol asked, sensing the pain in the old man’s voice.

  “Oh yes….,” the old man replied and reached inside his leather satchel and removed two small pieces of polished oak wood bound together by a crimson cord. Carefully he untied it and opened the two pieces to reveal a flattened piece of vellum with the poem written upon it. “I have this to seal away here, on the point yonder by tomorrow’s eve,” he explained and gently pushed the whole item toward Gabirol.

  Quickly Gabirol studied it. One version was written in Latin, the other in a strange set of symbols. He looked up at the old man, puzzled, before pushing it back across the table to the Templar. All sat in silence waiting for him to read it. He cleared his throat and sat up.

  “It reads. ‘The moment you died, I became forever broken, incomplete, and my soul shattered, cried. My heart ’twas torn in two, one side filled with heartache, the other died with you. At night when the world is asleep, this pain…it cuts bone deep and tears fall upon my pillow running from off my cheek. Remembering you will be easy, for I do it every day, but missing you is a heartache that will never fade or ever go away. I will hold you tightly within my heart eternally to remain, until the day we meet again, for only then, and gone shall be the pain as we walk upon heaven’s plain.’”

  “Powerful words again,” the Hospitaller remarked.

  “And did he give Alisha this?” Sarah asked and leant over to see the poem. “And what do the symbols mean?”

  “Yes he did, and the symbols are like the old Viking runes…the same as Thomas and his men used. ’Tis a language almost lost to the world…that of ‘Elfdalian’ or the preferred term ‘Övdalian’. ’Tis an ancient language derived from the Swedish ‘älvdalska’, and before you ask, no it is not a language as spoken by so-called elves…’tis a real language,” the old man explained.

  “I think I have heard of this before. I was told it was a language of the forest, like the Ogham alphabet based upon the Old Norse spoken by Vikings,” Gabirol remarked.

  “’Tis indeed as you say…and it has thirty-three letters. Thomas and his men used it almost like a secret code language, especially when in combat…’Twas they who taught Paul the language.”

  “So pray tell what happened when Paul finally arrived in Kerak?” Ayleth asked.

  The old man sat in silence for several minutes before finally sitting forward and continuing.

  Crac de Moab, Oultrajordain, Kingdom of Jerusalem, December 7th 1186

  It was unseasonably cold when Paul saw Kerak in the distance. His stomach knotted tightly as he wondered how Alisha and Ailia were and whether Reynald was present. The sun was still high, the sky a dull yellow as far as the eye could see despite no clouds. Stewart pulled up alongside him just as Master Jakelin halted his troop behind him. They had met Master Jakelin two days’ ride prior at a staging post and agreed to travel as one. The journey had given Paul and Stewart much time to talk together. The tragedy that had fallen at their feet had one small mercy in that it helped mend the rift between them. A new bond, a stronger bond, had now developed. Their father would be proud if he could have seen them together, Paul wrote in a letter he had dispatched to him, along with the sad news of Arri’s death. Stewart pointed toward a lone rider approaching fast from Kerak. Paul instantly recognised the tall horse and figure as that of Abi.

  “You are late…you should have been here sooner,” she said as she pulled up in front of them, looking at Paul. He sensed anger in her tone. “It matters not now…they all await your arrival.”

  “Why have you come to greet us…is there some problem? Are Alisha and Ailia all right?” Paul asked, concerned.

  Abi rode closer to Paul and looked at him hard. Puzzled by her expression he frowned back.

  “I must leave this day but I shall return. It matters not my words, but you should have been here sooner. Will you swear to me, here and now this hour in the presence of these men, you will do but one thing for me?” Abi asked and looked deeply into his eyes.

  Something was amiss Paul knew.

  “I swear it…whatever it is,” he replied.

  “Destroy the parchments without delay. If you do not, I shall not be responsible or able to put right what will surely follow,” she said sternly, not moving her gaze from Paul. “Swear it!”

  “I just swore it did I not?” Paul retorted.

  “The loss of Arri will be nothing compared with what will happen,” Abi stated bluntly and turned her horse to face the eastward road toward Arabia. Tenno moved his horse near to Abi and looked at her in silence unsure of her manner. She patted her horse’s neck and looked at him. “Tenno…until we meet again, for we shall…but please if there is love in your heart for me as I have for you, make sure he destroys them,” she said, her tone softer with him. She looked back at Paul, her stare almost cold, which he could not understand. “Keep this promise,” she then demanded, sat upright, nodded at Tenno and sped off without any further words.

  Tenno looked at Paul momentarily before turning back to watch Abi slowly ride off into the distance. Paul wondered what had happened and his sense of guilt over Arri just grew from her harsh warning.

  “Come. It has been a tiresome journey,” Tenno said and led off heading down the path toward Kerak.

  With a great sense of trepidation Paul followed Tenno and Stewart across the main drawbridge into Kerak. He never thought he would be back here again as they entered the main central courtyard. The area was full of people, their horses and those of Master Jakelin’s men only adding to the cacophony of noise. Paul was about to dismount when he caught sight of Nicholas walking out of view through a side door.

  “Paul…Paul!” Princess Stephanie called out. Paul l
ooked all around but could not see her amongst all the people. Suddenly he saw her hand wave. “Paul!”

  He dismounted and held the reins of Adrastos just as she stopped in front of him, out of breath. She smiled beautifully at him, her face framed by the thin lace tied beneath her chin to hold a head cover with a gold band, like a crown in place. He looked her up and down, her slender figure clearly defined by the white and golden material of her dress. Her eyes met his, her pupils wide and clearly happy to see him.

  “My Lady,” Paul said and bowed his head slightly. “You look well indeed.”

  “And look at you…you, you have grown…and so different,” she replied and laughed awkwardly. “Forgive my manners. I am so sorry to hear of Arri. Please accept my sincerest and deepest sympathy,” she said changing her tone and expression. She searched his eyes seeing the pain that was in them. She sighed. “Come, I shall take you to Alisha and Ailia. They eagerly await your arrival,” she said and clasped his hand and pulled him to follow her.

  As she led Paul away, Balian approached Stewart as he dismounted. Stewart bowed his head in respect to him, Balian’s eyes following Paul and Stephanie.

  “All day nearly she has stood atop the main watch tower looking out for your arrival,” he said quietly. “Sorry, I speak inappropriately. Ignore my indiscreet comment,” Balian remarked and turned around to see Tenno before him. Tenno bowed his head in silence.

  Princess Stephanie knocked on the heavy wooden door and listened for a response. She looked more beautiful than ever, Paul thought to himself. A bolt shifted on the other side and Sister Lucy looked out from the space between the door and wall as she opened it slightly. Her eyes widened as she saw Paul and instantly opened the door fully. Ailia was sitting in the middle of the large four poster bed. Paul recognised the room as being that of Princess Stephanie’s and Reynald’s former main chambers. Alisha was stood with her back to them looking out of the main window. She did not turn around. Ailia saw Paul and immediately shuffled to the edge of the bed and ran over toward him. He knelt down just as she reached him and jumped into his arms. Flinging her arms around his neck tightly she hugged him with a large smile.

  “’Tis Papa,” she called out as Paul stood up again holding Ailia close.

  Alisha still did not turn around. He could see she was fiddling with her hands, something she always did when she was nervous or worried. He gulped hard, his stomach in knots.

  “Come on, Ailia, come with me so Mama and Papa can talk awhile alone,” Sister Lucy said and put her arms out to take Ailia. She frowned and shook her head no and held on tighter.

  “Ailia, will you be a really big grown up girl for me and go with Sister Lucy and Stephanie just while I say hello to Mummy…we need some time alone that is all, I promise,” Paul said hugging her.

  After a few minutes in silence, Ailia moved to look at Paul. Her eyes were so similar to Arri’s it made him choke with emotion. Ailia put her hands on either side of his face then kissed him on his nose, then she let out a little laugh.

  “Make it quick,” she said sounding more like Sister Lucy, then she reached out for Sister Lucy to take her.

  “My you are getting too big to carry,” Sister Lucy said and began to walk out of the room nodding at Princess Stephanie, who quietly pulled the door closed behind them.

  Alisha and Paul stood in silence for several long minutes, Alisha afraid to face him. Her stomach felt as if it were in her throat. She knew the minute she looked into his eyes, her secret would be revealed. She felt ashamed of her actions with Nicholas. She felt guilty for Paul and utterly wretched. Her world hung in the balance and despite Sister Lucy’s words that some secrets had to be kept, she did not see how she could. Her mind was racing. Would Paul attack Nicholas if he knew? Would Nicholas in fact kill Paul if they fought? How would this affect Ailia?

  “I need to see him now,” Theodoric said loudly, outside the door.

  As whispering outside started, both Alisha and Paul turned to face the door. They listened as Theodoric was ushered away. When Paul turned around again, Alisha was stood facing him, her hands together. She was shaking and clearly nervous. Paul could not understand why she looked like this and he immediately moved toward her, concern written across his face. He went to touch her but she instantly stood back a pace and raised her hands for him to keep back. Shocked, he froze.

  “Please…please just do not touch me,” she said emotionally, her eyes closed. A tear ran down her cheek.

  “Ali, I know you blame me for Arri…but,” Paul started to say.

  Alisha opened her eyes. They were filled with tears and anger at the same time. Paul’s heart skipped a beat. She walked past him fast, her arm up for him to keep his distance. She opened the main wooden trunk at the end of the bed and lifted out the parchment tube. She stood up and held it up.

  “I blame this…what it contains. This….not you! ’Twas the knowledge that killed our son,” she exclaimed emotionally and stood back as Paul moved toward her. “I never wanted this…all I ever wanted was just us. You, me, Arri and Ailia…nothing more,” she cried. Paul went to step closer again. “No, stay back!” she shouted and threw the parchment tube at him. It just missed him and bounced off the stone fire breast behind him just as he had seen in his dreams countless times. In shock he looked at her. His ears began to ring and his heart beat faster. Alisha put her hands to her mouth. She visibly shook as tears streamed down her face. “This grief overwhelms me so much so that I do not know who I am any more…what good am I to you or Ailia? And now…seeing you, ’tis Arri I see in your face…and the pain rips out my very heart….and I know that seeing you will remind me daily of Arri and I cannot bear to face you for that,” she cried, her arms out toward him yet her body recoiling away.

  Her words cut like a sword through him. Never had there been a moment in their lives together when his first original poem had been so right with his words.

  “Ali…I am to burn the parchments…all of them. I shall never redraw or write them up again. I swear it. And Arri…I know he is okay. We saw a great and wondrous thing, Percival included. And I wrote a poem,” Paul explained and quickly took out a copy he had written. “Here look, this is what I wrote and laid with Arri just before a woman of light appeared.”

  When Paul tried to pass it to her, she hit his hand aside and looked at him with anger in her eyes. Paul felt sick and stared at her as he bent down to pick up the poem. He was shaking from head to foot shocked to the very core by her reaction.

  “The good Lord, our ever so merciful God and master…he took our son away from us…and you write a poem about it,” she snarled, her face full of rage the likes of which he had never seen before. “Fuck our good Lord. I see and understand now why so many in Alexandria were atheists…’tis all but utter nonsense.”

  Paul stood up straight. He hardly recognised the woman stood in front of him.

  “Ali, whatever has come between us, we must move forwards together. I love you with all my heart and soul, and I will do whatever it takes to make you happy and one day smile again.”

  “Happy! I shall never be happy again. I am broken….broken!” she shouted as she doubled forwards holding her stomach as if in pain. “I am not worthy of you nor your love,” she cried and fell to her knees.

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  “What do you mean, Ali?” Paul asked and rushed to support her as she knelt with her head down sobbing. He put his hands upon her shoulders and tried to get her to look at him but she would not.

  “I have so shamed you,” she cried, shaking her head from side to side. Paul tried again to get her to look at him but she would not open her eyes even when he held her chin and moved her face to his. “Please just leave me, Paul,” she pleaded, sobbing, her whole body shaking.

  “I cannot leave you…I love you and you are my wife. Nothing you can do will ever change that,” Paul said emotionally, seeing how utterly distraught she was.

  After a few minutes Alisha stopped sobbing, wiped her nose and
face and opened her eyes. She took a deep breath and sighed heavily. Her eyes looked into Paul’s and he knew something was wrong.

  “And I do love you…but I have made a terrible mistake,” she started to explain and moved back on the floor away from him. “’Tis a mistake I cannot undo…but one I cannot lie and hide from you either,” she said and gulped. Paul’s stomach twisted tightly. “In my despair…though it is no excuse….I…I…” Tears began to roll down her cheeks again. Paul could see she was struggling and hurting. “I slept with Nicholas.”

  Her words hit Paul in a manner he had never experienced before. He heard them, but somehow they did not make sense. Alisha bit her bottom lip and then cupped her mouth as if to silence herself, but it was too late. She had said it. As the words slowly began to filter through and their implications and meaning, the air left Paul’s lungs and as he went to stand, his head spinning, he stumbled backwards. He tried to steady himself on the bed post but missed it and fell backwards onto the floor. His eyes wide, he stared at Alisha. He could not catch his breath and felt sick. His world was crashing down around him. He shook his head in disbelief, but he knew it was true. His earlier instincts had been proved accurate. He could see she was hurting and part of him just wanted to hold her and comfort her, but wasn’t he also supposed to be angry at her and Nicholas? he asked himself. The betrayal from both of them was total. Was he to blame? Was his love not enough? he wondered. His mind seized on her earlier words that she had made a terrible mistake.

  “Do,” Paul went to say and was very nearly sick. He coughed and took a deep breath. “Do you love him?” he asked emotionally as tears filled his eyes blurring his vision.

  Alisha rocked herself back and forth upon her knees, her hands still covering her mouth. Paul longed for her to say she did not and the silence was unbearable as she looked at him.

  “I do…in a fashion but not in the way I love you,” she finally said.