by D. N. Carter
“You mean like Thomas and his men?” Peter asked.
“No, Thomas and his men were no mere mercenaries. They oft worked for little or nothing. After Alisha and Paul left Fustat, there was no way of being paid by Husam as originally agreed. And with Paul missing, there was no way of issuing cheques against him…no, Thomas and his men were something quite altogether different,” the old man explained and smiled to himself. “Too often though the aggressive nature of new arrivals is in direct contrast to those Latin settlers who are more cautious. In theory the King of Jerusalem commanded the army, which included the permanent army of Jerusalem, maintained due to almost constant war…’twas the failure to expand beyond the coastal strips and conquer inland apart from Jerusalem that now causes such a logistical nightmare. That is why it has to maintain an abnormally large defensive force. But it does not have the land to support such a force, which would have serious implications. In theory again the king can demand knights and men serve a full year, longer than here in Europe, but the periods are actually negotiated by the Haute Cour, the high court, as and when each campaign is planned. This however led to some major difficulties when a major disciplined foe was to be faced. Different fiefs sent different numbers of knights. Each knight usually has about four to five men attend him as well as three horses. Places such as Jaffa or Galilee supplied around a hundred knights whilst some small fiefs can only supply a single knight. Also the number of sergeants varies considerably from five hundred by the Patriarch of Jerusalem to twenty-five for Le Herin as an example. Mercenary numbers are likewise almost the same in number. Then of course you have to make sure all the Mareschals, connectables and the Grand Turcopolier, who commanded the king’s turcopoles, actually all spoke and liaised with each other.” [110]
“So please, tell us more of Paul for surely he was found?” the wealthy tailor asked.
“I wish to hear of Alisha’s poem,” Ayleth remarked.
“Well I can let you read it if you wish…’tis inside the folder. ’Tis the small wax sealed envelope,” the old man said and indicated with a slight nod at the leather folder. Slowly Gabirol looked inside until he saw a worn white envelope with a broken seal upon it. He removed it and laid it flat upon the table. It was difficult to lay flat having once been rolled up for so long. “’Tis a single fold…so please just open it.”
Gabirol gently opened the envelope to reveal Alisha’s hand written poem. Ayleth leaned over to see it clearer. Some of the words had run slightly and it was covered in several patches of dirt. Ayleth bit her finger as Gabirol lifted it slightly to read. He looked at the old man as if to seek permission. He simply nodded yes.
“It reads in French…it says…” Gabirol started to read and cleared his throat. “’Tis a long poem but here goes.” He paused. “Alone I stand just like you, my soul cut in two. Most understand not why I cry, for they can never know why, and I am weak, oft too broken to speak. When surrounded by the darkness of night, my guilt haunts me with the deepest of fright. My sin, ’twas upon a chance and so fast, but even in that moment, I knew it would not last. Your heart I did not count, for in that hour ’twas forsaken as if it did not matter, your soul I did shatter. Of secrets now I must keep, telling lies when looking in others’ eyes so deep. ’Twas all my fault, your heart gone from me, locked away in some cold and lonely vault. I am lost in the wilderness of my broken soul, my shattered other half, I know not where…’tis a burden I cannot bear! But know this…my heart weeps tears of blood for the pain caused unto you, for just a moment in my despair and the darkest hour of my mind, I was lost and stupidly blind. ’Twas the time of greatest uncertainty and sorrow, and I threw away all of our tomorrows.” Gabirol paused, quickly looking up before continuing. “I watched you leave, tears fell down my cheek, and you were gone, lost from me, my soul eternally to weep. Now, with just memories, the goodness of you lost, my heart yearns to turn back time once again for you to be mine. I beg forgiveness and pray you think upon what I have said, though I broke the vows of our sacred marital bed…but this heart beats for you alone, my eternal love far from dead. Take what time you must to consider my crime, and if you can forgive me, I will love you beyond the end of time. Cut our wedding vows loose if you must, but in me they will remain until I am returned to dust. And if the wound hath cut too deep, and you are mine no more to cherish and keep, then cast me from your life never to return, I will understand… and in the wilderness that is my soul, I shall forever weep.”
Ayleth sighed heavily as the others sat in silence for a few minutes before Simon finally spoke up.
“You have her poem…how so?” he asked bluntly.
“I shall explain,” the old man replied and sat himself up.
Plain of Moab, Kingdom of Jerusalem, December 24th 1186
Abi walked slowly, leading her horse toward the seated figure. It was Nicholas, the cold wind blowing around him, yet he refused to move, a dusting of snow lying upon his shoulders and head. For three weeks nearly he had remained at this location, refusing to leave. All Abi could do was visit him regularly and bring food and fresh water. His own horse stood silently nearby, its blankets a frozen white covered in snow. Red and yellow hues streaked across the darkening evening sky as Abi knelt down to check him, concerned he had perhaps frozen to death. Several times she gently rocked him before he finally looked up from the blankets wrapped around him. He opened his eyes, his beard and eyelashes full of frozen ice crystals. He squinted trying to focus upon Abi.
“You must finally call an end to this madness for otherwise you will surely die,” Abi spoke softly.
“I care not, unless he returns,” Nicholas replied, his voice dry.
“Well you should for Alisha does not want another death upon her hands and conscience…so you owe it to her to live. This is not what Paul would want either.”
“I have made my last vow. I shall not return without him.”
“Read the poem,” Abi said and reached inside his blankets and grabbed the scroll tube he was holding with both hands. Too weak to resist her powerful grasp, she easily pulled it from him. “Just read it,” she demanded and broke the end wax seal. He looked up at her in alarm and confusion. Quickly Abi removed the small vellum sheet, broke the wax seal and rolled off the crimson thread, keeping it in place, and opened it. She waved it in front of his eyes. Nicholas tried to shuffle backwards but his saddle stopped him. He raised himself to his knees and tried to look away but Abi thrust it hard against his chest. “Read it now whilst I saddle up your horse. Whether you wish to or not, you are coming back with me…one way or another. Tied to your horse if necessary for I will not let you perish and throw your precious life away like this. This is no fairytale romantic gesture…’tis pure stupidity.”
Hesitantly, Nicholas held out the poem before him, and in the fading light began to read Alisha’s words. He sighed as each and every word cut into him with both regret and pain. Resting upon his knees, he shook his head exhausted. He was too cold to even shiver, which Abi knew was a very dangerous sign.
“I wish with all my heart and soul these words were for me…but they are not,” he sighed and closed his eyes. He could even smell the fragrance Alisha wore upon the poem. “But I know she never was mine and never will be. I am truly ashamed of all that I have caused and ruined.”
“Then get up. Live…for yesterday is gone. Your past does not have to define you. And for what small measure of comfort this may afford you, Alisha does and always will have a special place reserved in her heart for you,” Abi said as she lifted him to his feet. He could hardly stand. She sensed something and looked upwards. She paused as she looked around, the tall grasses sticking through the snow gently blowing back and forth. “And I would say now is probably opportune to put your Order’s mantle back on.”
“Why?” Nicholas asked, puzzled, trying to follow where she was looking.
“She speaks the truth,” Paul said suddenly, behind them, making them both jump with surprise. Nicholas nearly collapsed seei
ng him stood before them. Paul had grown a full beard neatly cropped and he appeared to radiate a glow of well being. His face was serene almost. Even Abi had to look twice at him. “’Tis truly I.”
Nicholas raised his hand out toward him shaking with emotion, his eyes welling with tears.
“Is it really you?” he asked and fell at Paul’s feet and grabbed hold of his ankles, his forehead resting upon his boots. “Lord have mercy upon me and forgive me,” he cried.
Abi put her hand upon her hip and looked at him, puzzled. Paul bent down and lifted Nicholas’s hands away from his legs and knelt down in front of him. Nicholas would not look up until Paul gently raised his chin forcing Nicholas to face him but he kept his eyes shut tightly, tears rolling down his dirty face.
“My friend…we have all suffered greatly. I have learnt that there is no greater demonstration of the purest love, than to love without condition and expectation, for that is the highest most true love,” Paul remarked and stared at Nicholas in silence until he opened his eyes. “And if there was any one man on this earth I would want Alisha to be with…it would be you, my friend. What is done, is done.”
“’Tis not me she wants…’tis only you,” Nicholas cried and lifted up Alisha’s poem holding it with both hands. “Just you…,” he said emotionally and pushed the poem for Paul to take.
Abi stood up straight, took a deep breath and had to check herself to stop herself from crying seeing the raw pain and genuine emotion within Nicholas.
“Nicholas…I know. But forever you are a part of our lives, as you always have been,” Paul explained and lifted Nicholas to his feet.
“Read the poem, Paul,” Abi ordered bluntly.
Paul opened the poem and studied the words carefully. In his mind all went silent as he became momentarily oblivious to his surroundings. Every word he read twice and each one echoed within him sensing the heartfelt and genuine emotion Alisha had put into every part of the poem. He knew she meant every word. He looked at Nicholas and part of him felt sorry for him, his pain so evident. But he also knew Nicholas would not wish to be pitied. He was a strong, courageous and noble man, now almost broken from his own guilt and regret. As he looked at him, he felt closer to him than any other man he knew, save perhaps Percival. Taqi was always going to be his best friend in many ways, but so much had changed over the years that he was almost a stranger to him now in many ways. But Nicholas…they were more alike than twin brothers almost, he thought. He looked toward the direction of Kerak, the sky almost black now.
“’Tis Christmas Day tomorrow. Can we make Kerak by daybreak?” he asked Abi. She looked at the weather on the eastern horizon then back toward Kerak.
“Of course,” she replied and smiled.
“Then let us return…together,” Paul remarked and then hugged Nicholas. “We all have family there to celebrate with. Better than this cold depressing place would you not agree?”
Nicholas looked at Paul in bewilderment. Paul raised his eyebrows questioningly. Emotionally and exhausted, Nicholas finally smiled and nodded his head yes.
Crac de Moab, Oultrajordain, Kingdom of Jerusalem, December 25th 1186
Abi rode ahead as Paul led Nicholas across the main drawbridge, their horses’ hooves echoing out across the main courtyard. The outer wall guards had already rung the alarm bell as they had approached alerting the night guards who were already forming up. Brother Teric and Upside came running into the courtyard, the ground covered in ice patches and snow. Princess Stephanie came running from her chambers, down the stairs and was already tying up her coat alarmed at the bells ringing so early, the sun barely shining through the breaks in the heavy overcast clouds above them.
“Well fuck me sideways,” Brother Teric blurted out as Princess Stephanie ran up to his side. “Sorry, My Lady…’tis Brother Nicholas…and if I am not mistaken, ’tis Paul with them,” he explained and smiled as Upside stood still, amazed.
“I shall fetch Alisha,” Princes Stephanie replied excitedly and quickly ran back up the main steps and into the central keep.
Thomas came running out with Luke and Mathew closely followed by the rest of his men. Abi pulled up just in front of Brother Teric and nodded at him with a large smile upon her face.
“You did not kill each other then?” Upside called out as Paul and Nicholas drew up beside Abi. “Though you look like utter shit,” he said, looking at Nicholas, and laughed, relieved to see him.
Paul dismounted and helped Nicholas down, who was so weak he could hardly stand. His face was wind burnt and his lips cracked. Upside approached and immediately took Nicholas’s weight. He looked at Paul and saw a change in him. He indicated with his finger around his own mouth to make reference to Paul’s new beard.
“Thank the Lord this holiest of days…thank the Lord,” Thomas said and grabbed Paul with both hands and just stared at him in silence for several minutes. “Is all good between you?” he asked, looking at Nicholas quickly.
“Yes…yes it is,” Paul answered and smiled at Nicholas, who nodded back in agreement silently.
Wearing the fur lined cloak Kratos had given him, Paul looked broader and with new boots he had also been given, he looked taller too.
Stewart and Ishmael appeared walking from the stables, having been preparing for another day out searching for Paul. Stewart’s jaw dropped seeing him and he stopped in his tracks. He blinked and shook his head in disbelief. Paul nodded at him. As soon as he did, Stewart walked to him fast and then hugged him hard.
“’Tis really you isn’t it?” Stewart asked, stepped back and looked at Paul at arm’s length. “Look at you…where, where have you been…are you okay…does Father know…are…,” he asked fast and laughed with relief.
“Papa!” Ailia suddenly called out loudly as she rushed down the steps leading from the main keep doorway, pulling Princess Stephanie behind her, who was trying to keep hold of her hand. Ailia flicked her arm, broke free and ran across the courtyard and jumped straight up into Paul’s arms, wrapping hers around his neck tightly. “You are home…I told Mama you would be.”
Paul held her tightly and closed his eyes. Stewart turned to face Tenno as he stepped down the main stairs into view, Alisha nervously holding his arm for support. She looked incredibly anxious and was visibly shaking as they began to walk toward Paul and Nicholas. Paul, sensing the mood had gone silent, opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Alisha, her eyes locked on his. His vision seemed to polarise upon her and just her, the rest around him appearing as if in a tunnel. He looked at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. He could see and sense the tension and fear in her eyes as she walked closer. In her mind a thousand questions were running through her thoughts. He looked different, was he okay, had he read her poem, did he still want her, did Nicholas and he fight? She felt sick but was oblivious to the men around her. Her heart beat so hard she thought she would faint before she would reach him. When she did, she stopped. Ailia turned to look at her and smiled still hugging him tightly. Alisha went to speak but the words would not come out. His eyes searched hers and she felt he could see into her very soul at that moment. Gently and slowly she rubbed her finger down his face across his old barely visible scar and across his new beard. She let out a slight nervous laugh. He was real. This was not a dream. But had he come back to her? Paul took her hand in his and held it against his face.
“’Tis Christmas after all…a time when families should be together… would you not agree?” Paul finally spoke quietly, the lump in his own throat nearly stopping him from speaking and looked at her intently, then Stewart.
“Paul…Paul…Paul!” Theodoric shouted out loudly as he ran across the courtyard nearly falling over slipping on an ice patch, Tenno giving him a disapproving glance as he pushed past Thomas and his men. Sister Lucy was rushing up as fast as she could behind him. “Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed out of breath.
“No, still just Paul,” Paul joked.
Theodoric looked at Alisha, Paul, Ste
wart, Nicholas and then back at Paul and shook his head.
“Will you be staying?” Thomas interrupted and asked.
“Only if this speaks truth as I believe it does?” Paul asked and pulled out Alisha’s poem.
Alisha let out a sigh and looked at him. Her eyes immediately filled with tears and she struggled not to cry.
“You know it does,” she finally spoke, her voice sounding the softest and sweetest he had ever heard her speak.
“Then come here…,” Paul said and pulled her close with his left arm whilst still holding Ailia. Alisha put her arms around him, closed her eyes and held him tightly, the fragrance of her hair never having smelt so welcoming, Paul thought. He looked at Nicholas and both nodded an acknowledgement. “Thank you,” he said to Nicholas.
Alisha looked up at Nicholas. He looked dirty and exhausted but he smiled at them both as Upside supported him. Nicholas nearly collapsing, Ishmael quickly supported his other side and smiled at Paul, a tear in his own eye, relieved to see him back safe. Paul simply nodded. Princess Stephanie looked on, her hands to her mouth almost unable to breathe herself. She was so relieved and happy to see Paul returned. Sister Lucy went up to Paul, kissed the side of his cheek and silently beckoned him to follow her. With his arm around Alisha, and carrying Ailia, they followed her as Theodoric started to check Nicholas over. Thomas approached Nicholas and stared hard at him for a few moments.