Outremer III

by D. N. Carter

  Thomas looked at Nicholas hard.

  “We gave up our all to remain and protect Alisha and Paul. This we have done so far but failed with their son. ’Tis a stain my men will never get over. We shall not fail either of them again.”

  “Then let me help put right the wrong I have done not only to Alisha and Paul, but also you and your men?” Nicholas asked, shaking his head, the sadness in his heart clearly etched upon his face.

  “Ig har härt glamas um mikid a landi, men Alisha kelinggę ir brunę,” Thomas suddenly whispered in a strange but beautiful sounding language. “Learn what that means and carry the language in you, and I may forgive you. Whether you forgive yourself is another thing,” Thomas said.

  “What? I do not understand what you speak,” Nicholas replied, confused.

  “’Tis övdalska or Övdalian, the language of our forest ancestors. ’Tis also known as Elfdavian…though in truth ’tis not the language of elves as some claim. Learn it and it will speak to your soul as well as your heart,” Thomas answered, looking at Nicholas intently. His anger was subsiding yet he still wanted to remain angry at him. He could see why Alisha would fall for him. He shook his head. “Go…for I will need you rested and that eye of yours sorted before we leave on the morrow…now please, just go.” Thomas said, his tone lower but deliberate.

  Nicholas hesitated for a moment. He knew a fight between them in normal circumstances would have been an equal match, but it was a fight he did not ask nor wish for. He had meant what he said, that he would not fight back. He picked up his Templar surcoat and flung it over his left arm, looked at Thomas briefly, wanting to say more, but there was nothing he could say. As for the strange language Thomas had spoken, he would ask him again later to repeat it so he could learn and understand what he had said. Quietly he left the room, closing the door behind him. Thomas sighed heavily. For years he too had longed to hold Alisha and had loved her from afar, but never had he even supposed or imagined she would even look at a man other than Paul. He thumped his fist down hard upon the table, the bang echoing in the confines of the now empty room.

  The crystal clear night sky flickered with a million points of sparkling light, the Milky Way arching across the heavens above him looking like a river of silvered milk, as Paul sat looking up in wonder. Sitting cross legged, his blanket pulled tightly around him with Adrastos stood behind, he could see for miles in all directions upon the flat plain of Moab. If he could return to Alisha, no matter what she had done, just to hold her and Ailia, that would be enough, he thought. He sighed heavily as he wished to return to the few peaceful years he had enjoyed in Fustat. Now all was forever changed. Arri was dead, Alisha was no longer his and Ailia, his beautiful very own little princess, he could not even be there to protect and comfort her. He closed his eyes in sadness as he imagined her little face. If he could have stayed, he would have if only for her sake but he knew there was nowhere safe for any of them as long as Turansha was still alive. He did not know where to even begin to try and find him, but he also knew he could not stay at Kerak and remind Alisha daily of Arri as she had so cruelly shouted at him. How could everything have gone so terribly wrong? After all they had already been through, it did not make sense if he did indeed have some great commission to carry out. He shuddered and shook his head as he thought of Alisha lying with Nicholas. He screwed his eyes tightly and tried to push the imagined scenes from his mind that made his heart almost stop. His stomach turned as the enormity of his situation finally hit him; he leaned over quickly and threw up in an uncontrollable convulsion of fear and a deep sickening sense that made his whole body shake. Several times he retched until he was just throwing up bile, his neck and chest tightening. He coughed and tried to clear his throat, sick still dripping from his lips and nose. He started to cry… the cry that comes from the deepest part of your soul when you can go no lower. Resting over on his arms, he gave in to the overwhelming sense of loss and betrayal and sobbed unashamedly and completely. Adrastos lowered his head to try and touch him as if to reassure him, sensing his pain. After many minutes sobbing he wiped his face and looked upward.

  “This hurt in my soul I cannot subdue…please, oh Lord, if you can hear me, take this pain away for ’tis too great,” he cried. “I am truly alone and at rock bottom,” he cried aloud, clenched his fists and sobbed again.

  “Then use that rock bottom as the foundation to build your new life and new self upon,” a gentle female voice spoke from behind him.

  Quickly Paul jumped to his feet, alarmed. Wiping the tears from his face, he drew his sword. Adrastos looked at him as if to question what he was doing.

  “Who is there?” he asked and spat out bile and shuddered at its bitter taste.

  “’Tis only an old woman, you need have no fear of me,” the voice replied, though Paul could see no one. “I am behind you.”

  Paul jumped around to see the same old woman from La Rochelle who had saved Theodoric’s life and who seemed to appear everywhere he travelled.

  “How…how did you get here?” he asked, surprised. “We are in the middle of nowhere.”

  “’Tis perhaps the best place to be then,” she answered and stepped closer to him. “You can put that away for a start.”

  Hesitantly he re-sheathed his sword, the simple act of holding the scabbard pulling at his heart as he knew Arri had made it.

  “I know you are not real…for your voice is usually harsh…yet now your voice is gentle. You are of other realms that much I have learnt of you,” Paul blurted out and wiped his face again.

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  “How would you like me to appear?” she asked and moved closer, her stench immediately filling his nostrils. She laughed, seeing his face purse up. “Always works…the filthy old hag image,” she said and started to smile. As she did, her face started to change. Paul looked on in wonder as she became taller, thinner and younger, her old baggy black clothes turning a pale cream and white. He blinked several times trying to confirm in his own mind what he was seeing. The rancid foul smell was replaced by an almost sensuous delicate perfume unlike any he had ever smelt before. “Is this more pleasing?” she asked softly. She glowed with a brightness that showed her fully despite the darkness of the night. Her eyes widened as if to ask him again as she held out her hands for him.

  “I do not understand. Am I dreaming? Have I died?” Paul asked and looked back at Adrastos, who immediately snorted and shook his head. Paul let out a slight laugh and turned back to the woman. As he did, she was now standing just inches from him, her eyes looking into his.

  “Here…drink this,” she said and raised a very small glass looking bottle. “’Tis not poison I assure you, but will cleanse your mouth and the bitter taste,” she smiled as she spoke, her eyes reminding him of Alisha.

  “If it is of poison, I care not,” he replied, took the small bottle and drank the contents down in one. “Here,” he said and offered her the bottle back.

  As she took the small bottle, she took Paul’s right hand in her left hand and pushed herself up against him. Immediately he could feel her figure against him. He felt wrapped in warmth and love, almost like a child. Confused, he looked deeper into her eyes. Suddenly and without warning she pressed her lips to his, the sensation was instant and shot through his body filling him with a calmness and sense of happiness. She placed her hands upon his cheeks and kissed him more intensely; his arousal was instant and surprised him. As he tasted her sweet embrace, her lips gently pulled away. She opened her eyes as he opened his. She smiled and he laughed momentarily, stunned by his own reaction.

  “You should care, for you have much to do in this life time still,” she explained and stepped back from him and took his hands. “See how easy it is for these physical bodies to react to stimulus and touch?” The moment she spoke those words, he knew she was referring to Alisha and Nicholas. “We can make love right here and now if you wish and I can make it as heavenly as you wish it to be…but it is the heart’s memory and the joining of sou
ls we cannot achieve for that is set aside for only Alisha and you… for you are as twin souls, apart in distance, but together as one always. She knows this and she now feels it, as you should.” A tear ran down Paul’s cheek. He blinked several times trying to control his emotions. He turned to look back towards the direction of Kerak. “It does not excuse nor remove the act that she partook of…but like you are now, alone, broken, vulnerable and hurting, ’tis easy to succumb to the desires and pleasures of the flesh. ’Tis all but natural and expected…yet so very difficult to control,” she explained and held his hands up and held them in hers tightly. She kissed him again softly, his body reacting to hers as a sense of pleasure flooded his whole being. “See,” she said softly after breaking her kiss.

  Paul thought he must be dreaming. He must have been violently sick and passed out. He looked at his blankets, saddle and Adrastos. He could see where he had been sick. A bright ball of light suddenly lit up the area all around him in a brilliant white light. He strained to look up at it as it slowly came lower.

  “What is this?…This is the third time I have seen this,” Paul asked.

  “Do not be alarmed. ’Tis just a method of transport…for we are going on a little journey.” The woman spoke softly and touched the side of Paul’s head with her finger.

  Abi saw the glow of bluish white light on the distant horizon and knew immediately what it was and meant. Quickly she mounted her horse and sped off towards it galloping as fast as she could. The land was level up on the high plateau enabling her to ride as fast as her horse would carry her. It took her nearly fifteen minutes to reach the point she had seen the light hovering above. The sun was already beginning to break on the horizon and Adrastos stood out silhouetted against it. As she approached she could see the saddle still on the ground, Adrastos tied to it, but no sign of Paul. Quickly she dismounted and ran around Adrastos and the immediate area. She checked the ground but could only see one set of footprints.

  “Damn!” she snapped and slapped her thigh. She looked upwards. “Why…why must you always intercede? We are capable of dealing with this?” she shouted out, annoyed, causing Adrastos to snort. After a few minutes she looked upward. “Why?” she shouted again then looked down at Paul’s saddle, his shield propped up against it. She shook her head and sighed. “Why do you make this so damned difficult all the time? Do not make this a long affair!” she shouted as loud as she could and kicked the ground in utter frustration. After a few minutes trying to calm herself down, she looked at Adrastos and checked the wound still visible on his chest. “You at least heal well, my four legged friend,” she said and patted him. She turned and looked south. “I shall take you back to Kerak for I fear the journey to fetch Paul is going to be a long one,” she sighed.

  Crac de Moab, Oultrajordain, Kingdom of Jerusalem, December 8th 1186

  The main courtyard was still shrouded in shadow, the early morning sunlight still to break across the castle walls. Alisha held Ailia to her chest as they stood with Princess Stephanie and Sister Lucy. Percival leant down from his horse as Theodoric handed him two leather water bottles as Thomas checked his men. Brother Teric mounted his horse as Balian approached on foot with Master Jakelin. Ishmael walked out from the stable area accompanied by Stewart and Nicholas leading their horses.

  “We will find him,” Percival stated as he took the water bottles.

  Thomas looked at Alisha. He wanted to say many things to her but he knew now was not the time. Stewart walked up to her and took her hand.

  “Have faith,” he simply said and moved his horse besides Percival’s and mounted up. Ishmael mounted his horse and simply nodded at her just as Tenno stepped out from the main keep. He rushed across and stood beside Alisha and Theodoric.

  “Find him and return him to where he is needed and belongs,” Tenno called out to Stewart and Percival and then looked at Thomas as he nodded yes.

  Nicholas walked his horse toward Alisha. All looked on in silence as they looked at each other.

  “We need to leave now,” Thomas called out and mounted his horse, Balian nodding in agreement.

  “Ali…,” Nicholas started to speak but gulped, his throat dry. She looked at him and his swollen eye clear for all to see. “I shall not return without him, this I swear,” he said softly and forced a smile and held up the small sealed scroll container.

  “Come on, brother,” Upside said as he walked out from the stable area leading his horse.

  “Stand to!” one of the gatehouse guards shouted down as a single rider approached the castle. Everyone looked to the main entrance, the inner and outer gates lowered. “’Tis that tall woman and two horses!” he called down.

  “Abi. Open the gates now then,” Balian commanded and looked back at Princess Stephanie. “Sorry, My Lady, if that is okay?”

  “Of course,” she replied and held her hands nervously.

  Alisha saw the look of concern on her face and it made her heart jump. She had obviously not been with Tenno as she had thought. She steadied herself on her feet and held Ailia closer as the chains of the main entrance lifted the gates. Every step of the two horses’ hooves hitting the wooden drawbridge echoed into the courtyard, Alisha’s heart beating faster with every step, until Abi came into view, Adrastos running alongside her. Alisha gulped hard fearing the worst, her legs going weak. Abi slowed the two horses and pulled up just short of the group, dismounted, handed the reins to a turcopole and immediately approached Alisha. Sister Lucy grabbed Theodoric’s arm tightly.

  “I found his horse and shield abandoned upon the plains of Moab…,” she stated bluntly. Alisha took a sharp intake of breath. “But I saw no signs of struggle or others,” she remarked and put her hand upon Alisha’s shoulder reassuringly. “He is still out there somewhere…alive.”

  “And we shall find him,” Nicholas said, then quickly mounted his horse and pulled it around. He did not look back as he headed toward the main gate house.

  Alisha raised her arm and went to call out but Sister Lucy pulled her arm down.

  “Well best you all be off…and stay together,” Balian said and ushered them to all leave and follow Nicholas.

  Percival led off after Nicholas, Stewart bowing as he passed Alisha and Princess Stephanie. Alisha acknowledged them all one by one as they filed past her filled with overwhelming appreciation and pride. Thomas leaned down, rubbed his hand in Ailia’s hair and put his hand upon Alisha’s other shoulder, looked at her intently. He sighed and wanted to speak, but words seemed worthless and would remain so unless they returned with Paul. His eyes caught Abi’s.

  “I shall catch you up shortly,” she said.

  Thomas looked at Alisha once more, her eyes full of emotion, desperation almost and tears.

  “Bring my men back in one piece,” Master Jakelin called out as Thomas pulled away.

  Upside rode past and smiled at them.

  “Fear not, I shall look after all of them…,” he stated and trotted after them.

  Alisha held Ailia closer and kissed her gently. She was deeply touched they were all willing to risk their lives to find Paul but she felt guilty knowing that none of this would be happening but for her actions.

  “’Tis not all your doing…I despair at men and their ways,” Abi said quietly in her ear. Tenno overheard her and raised a single eyebrow. “With the exception of a rare few,” she then said and grasped Tenno’s arm.

  Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191

  “Oh so that is how you came to have the shield,” Ayleth remarked sadly.

  “I wish to know what Alisha wrote to him,” Sarah commented fiddling with an empty tankard.

  “I wish to know the method of his transport?” Simon asked.

  “I cannot explain the method by which Paul travelled for in truth I do not know it…but I can tell you he travelled many miles for when he awoke after a deep sleep, he had no idea where he was. He did not even know if he was dead in some other worldly place. The side of his head hurt and he co
uld not recall if his memories of the woman were real or had just been a very vivid dream. But even if it had been some dream, it did not explain how he travelled many miles. Over 170 in fact in one night.”

  “’Tis impossible,” the farrier remarked.

  “But did you not tell us earlier how Kratos was able to travel great distances, as were the ancients of India…but also did not Muhammad in the Qur’an also travel great distances in the single stride of a winged beast or something?” Gabirol asked.

  “Yes it is all written as such,” the old man replied.

  Jabal Al Lawz, The Plains of Arabia, December 12th 1186

  It was early morning, the sky a bright clear blue but it was bitterly cold. Paul lay upon his side curled up holding his knees to his chest for warmth. He shivered, his teeth chattering as he started to wake up. A brisk wind blew over him as a loud humming noise filled his ears. The wind started to blow down upon him kicking up dust and grit forcing him to shield his eyes. A loud pop echoed out and the wind dropped instantly. Confused, Paul pushed himself up on his arms and tried to focus on where he was. For miles in all directions all he could see was snow covered mountains, the level plateau he was on itself covered in a dusting of snow. He sat up on his knees and held himself tightly shivering uncontrollably the woman nowhere in sight.

  “And!” Paul shouted, his throat dry, as if asking God or the woman to confirm what next?

  “No need to shout I am not deaf,” Kratos spoke but some distance away.

  Paul stood up tired and aching and looked around but could not see Kratos.

  “Is this it…am I dead after all?” Paul called out and jumped as he felt a tap upon his right shoulder and turned around quickly.

  “My dear friend, you must be cold…come, follow me,” Kratos said, smiling, then instantly turned away before Paul could reply and walked toward a small outcrop of rocks. Wearing a full length heavy robe padded with furs and a fur lined hat, Paul would not have recognised Kratos had he not spoken.