East of Ashes

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East of Ashes Page 6

by Gideon Nieuwoudt


  The sight ripped the bonds of jealousy in Lamech's heart apart like ashes before the wind. He stared in amazement at Joash and Leala; his eyes suddenly open to what lay before him. It was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a very long time.

  Intense shame at what he had planned to do rushed through him like a tidal wave.

  "I think that's the last of them," Armand said behind him, staring into the night through the open front door.

  Lamech took one last look at Joash and Leala and then stumbled towards the back door. He leapt into the night, making for the stables.

  As the darkness engulfed him, Joash's dagger slipped from his numb fingers and disappeared in the shadows next to the inn.

  It was time to go.

  CHAPTER 5

  --- Arles, September 1097 ---

  --- Lamech ---

  Having left the inn in a desperate hurry, Lamech tore down the road on his horse with no clear destination in mind.

  Sensing his master's anguish, the horse dropped its head lower as it shifted from a fast gallop into a flat out sprint. Lamech simply crouched closer to the horse, silently urging it on as his mind splintered between the past and the present.

  She was so beautiful - he could at least remember that one sliver of light amongst his stormy memories. His heart would clench as if gripped by a giant fist when he laid eyes upon her, reflexively wanting to look away as her beauty cut through him and laid him bare.

  And then she would spot him - and the fist around his heart would gently unfold as she smiled the smile reserved for him alone.

  It didn't matter who he was, or what her station in life was. When they were together, love flowed as easily as a mountain stream. Time would slow down and colours would explode as they touched each other's faces. His eyes would be transfixed by the exquisite beauty of her mouth gently curling at the edges in a smile.

  And he'd hold her in his arms, fighting back joyful tears as he felt her heart beat against his chest.

  For a moment Lamech's memories drove his anguish away. But it never lasted long - as always, they exploded into a thousand jagged pieces as other, darker memories came storming to the fore.

  Closing his eyes in pain as he crouched on top of the horse, he remained relatively still while his horse heaved forwards in a torrent of movement. Driven to the edge of its strength, it was beginning to breathe hard, sweat foaming on its flanks.

  Lamech imagined her screaming - even though he had never actually heard it, nor witnessed the event. But he vividly remembered collapsing to the ground in crumbling shock when he heard of her murder, oblivious to the mud in his face and the saliva pouring from his screaming mouth while voices from a distance tried to console him.

  Then, as the horse finally slowed down to a trot, he recalled the most painful memory of them all: the events that unfolded after he caught the man responsible.

  --- Joash and Leala ---

  Joash was pacing up and down in Leala's room, still feeling the adrenaline burning through his veins. He let out a slow breath and then walked over to the window, peering into the darkness.

  "Where did Lamech disappear to?" he wondered aloud for the umpteenth time since the fight came to an end and he had led a trembling Leala to her room.

  "Stop pacing and come here," Leala said, ignoring the question.

  Joash turned from the window and looked at her with a slight smile, enjoying how she could dig deep and bounce back with amazing strength.

  "Please?" she added with the hint of a smile on her lips.

  "Fine!" he huffed to help lighten the mood and sat down next to her on the bed. Leala got up, fetched a bowl of water and a small towel from the table and came back to sit next to him. She took his hands and began wiping the blood away.

  Joash watched her for a few seconds. Then he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead against hers. They sat that way for a long time, soaking up each other's presence as Leala continued to softly wash his hands.

  "I don't want to stay here," she said softly.

  "I know," Joash replied. "I doubt there are more of them or that they'll attack the inn again, but I think it's better if we head back to Avignon."

  She pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes.

  "Who were they?" she asked.

  Joash shook his head. "No idea. But I'm guessing Gaal had something to do with it. They didn't look like bandits - and besides, it's not how they work. Bandits like to ambush people, not brazenly attack an inn."

  When she didn't reply, he repeated: "We can't stay here."

  "What about Sarah and Armand? Will they be safe?" Leala asked.

  "By now Gaal would have despatched a rider to the nearest garrison, so this place will be crawling with soldiers by daybreak," he answered.

  "Then wouldn't we be safer here too?"

  "I'm not particularly looking forward to being questioned by soldiers," he continued. "Somehow I doubt saving Gaal's life will make him forget our disagreement of yesterday. Something tells me I'm going to be accused of being an accomplice."

  "Then we must leave before daybreak," Leala agreed as she quickly dried his hands with sudden urgency.

  "Good. Let's get our things together and then grab a few hours of sleep before dawn."

  When they had finished packing, Joash turned to Leala: "Let's go and see if Sarah and Armand are still up before we turn in."

  "Good idea. We could ask them to keep an eye out for Lamech and tell him where we went if he hasn't returned by the time we leave," Leala said.

  Joash frowned in slight irritation at Lamech's name but was careful not to show it. No point in going down that road, he thought to himself and blocked out his irritation.

  "Yes, he'll be able to catch up quickly, so we can head off without him," he replied, unaware that Leala had spotted his shoulders clenching up slightly when she mentioned Lamech.

  Men could be so strong at times and so seemingly insecure at others, she thought, but then decided to leave it. Everyone's nerves had been frayed due to the attack, so why would Joash be different?

  They got up and walked to the door. Peering out, Joash motioned her to follow him down the corridor to the stairs.

  As they entered the common room, they found Sarah and Armand sitting across from each other at a table. A couple of metres away the bodies of their attackers still lay in pools of blood. Armand had evidently thought they could wait, turning to comfort Sarah instead.

  Armand stood up when he spotted the two coming down the stairs. He walked over to Joash and shook his hand gratefully. Sarah jumped up and ran over to Leala. They embraced each other, holding on tightly.

  "Thank you Joash," Armand said. "If it wasn't for you and Lamech, it would be our bodies lying on the ground."

  "Don't mention it, Armand. I'm just glad we were here," Joash smiled grimly, then looked at the dead bodies.

  "I'll help you move those to the back," he added, pointing his head towards the fallen killers.

  "Yes, thank you," Armand answered, and the two of them walked over to one of the bodies. Joash grabbed the man's torso while Armand picked up his legs and they shuffled out the back door, dumping the body on the ground behind the stables.

  While the men were busy moving the bodies, Sarah and Leala sat down at one of the tables. Leala took Sarah's hands and gave it a squeeze.

  "Are you alright?" she asked.

  Sarah smiled bravely and nodded resolutely.

  "I will be. Thank the Lord those two men of yours were here," she answered, and then smiled cheekily as she began to loosen up.

  "One seems to have run off though," she added with a wink.

  Leala couldn't help smiling at Sarah's spunk. Trust her to find the humour in something like this, she thought.

  "I know it's not really funny," Sarah continued, "but I couldn't help noticing the way you rushed into one man’s arms while the other one disappeared shortly after."

  Leala frowned at Sarah's words. It does explain why Lamech was nowhere
to be found, she thought. She closed her eyes and sighed. This day was just getting more complicated by the minute.

  Sarah reached over and stroked Leala's hair comfortingly.

  "I know," she said. "But, judging by the way Joash threw that sword across the room, at least you know he's not going to disappear," she added with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Leala smiled at that and then looked up at Sarah.

  "Yes, we were actually talking about that when those scoundrels interrupted us," she answered.

  "Talking, huh?" Sarah teased.

  Leala laughed out loud, just as Joash and Armand came walking through the back door, having dumped the last body. They walked over and sat down next to the women.

  "It sounds positively jolly in this part of the inn," Joash smiled. Armand placed an arm around his wife and kissed her on the forehead. "Glad to see you ladies are back to your usual selves," he joined in. His wife leaned against his shoulder and smiled contently.

  "Leala and I have talked..." Joash began, but Armand interrupted him: "...and you're planning to leave."

  Joash smiled at him, "Nothing gets by you."

  "Where's Gaal?" Leala suddenly asked, looking around.

  "Shortly after you two disappeared upstairs, he and his remaining bodyguard went to the stables," Armand replied. "Gaal returned a few minutes later, alone, and then went to his room. He probably sent his bodyguard to fetch help. His most likely destination would be Marseilles, so they won't be long in coming."

  "Then we'd better be ready to leave at first light," Joash said firmly.

  "But why the hurry?" Sarah asked. "Wouldn't Arles be a good place to be right now, with those soldiers coming? If you head back to Avignon, you might run into more of those bandits - or whoever they were - on the road."

  "We might, but... I don't know, I just feel this sense of urgency that staying here would be far more dangerous," Joash replied.

  "I feel it too," Leala said. "It's like the Lord is warning us not to stay."

  "It feels exactly like that," Joash agreed. "I don't know for what reason He's warning us to go, but I don't like the idea of having all these soldiers around me after my disagreement with Gaal last night. I simply don't trust the Crusader-types."

  "It's that kind of talk that will get you into trouble with Gaal," Armand smiled. "Still, I think you're right. Let's get your horses saddled up and ready to leave at dawn. Sarah, please pack them some food for the road."

  Sarah got up and immediately began putting together some bread, fruit, and dried sausages in a bundle in the kitchen.

  "Thank you. We really appreciate your help," Joash said and then he and Armand left through the back door for the stables.

  "He's a good man, that one," Sarah smiled at Leala.

  Leala smiled back and watched Joash's retreating back.

  "And Joash is not half bad either," Sarah teased.

  Leala laughed and aimed a piece of bread at Sarah's head. Sarah joined her in laughter, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

  By the time the men returned from the stables, Sarah and Leala had put together two bundles of food.

  "Well, let's go and get a few hours' of sleep," Joash suggested.

  Leala walked over to Sarah and gave her a long hug. "Thank you," she said and then pulled back to look her cousin in the eyes. "Next time we'll stay for longer," she promised. Sarah was fighting back tears and simply nodded and hugged Leala again.

  Joash walked Leala to her room and then proceeded to make a bed for himself in the corridor just outside her door.

  "What's this?" Leala asked with a smile.

  "I'm not leaving you alone tonight. Don't argue," Joash smiled.

  Having finished preparing his makeshift bed, he walked over to Leala and took her in his arms. They stood that way for a long time, slowly rocking from side to side as they enjoyed the closeness of each other.

  Finally, Joash pulled back, kissed her once more and said: "OK, time for bed."

  As she climbed in bed, Leala found it difficult to drift off. She lay on her side, still feeling the warmth of Joash's arms around her.

  She couldn't believe the transformation that he seemed to have undergone. She always knew what was inside him but had felt frustration that he seemed to only show a more insecure side to her.

  But now, as she recalled the events of the past couple of hours, she realised that his insecurity was based upon his feelings for her and whether she had felt the same - not unlike the insecurity she had felt too. With that cleared up, his true colours had begun to shine forth - and the fight had simply made it explode to the forefront.

  For that - and for bringing them together seemingly so effortlessly - she silently thanked the Lord as she finally drifted off to sleep.

  -------

  Gaal had tried to wait up for his bodyguard to return from Marseilles, but the adrenaline rush of the attack had left him drained, his eyelids heady with sleep. After fighting it for as long as he could, he decided to lie down on his bed and just rest his eyes for a moment.

  Minutes later he was sound asleep.

  What light was left in the candle next to his bed, burned for a while until it too dimmed and finally flickered out, leaving the light of the moon spilling through the window to cast its long shadows on the wall.

  The door swung open on silent hinges, revealing a figure in the frame. It stood still for a minute, listening for any sign that its arrival had been registered. When no alarm was raised, he crept in and quietly closed the door behind him.

  He looked around, getting his bearings, and then tiptoed to where Gaal was sleeping. He stopped next to the bed and looked down at his prey.

  From behind his cloak, he removed a richly-ornamented dagger. Its blade glinted menacingly in the moonlight as he held it aloft, poised to strike.

  Gaal woke with a start when a hand clamped over his mouth. Eyes bulging in confusion, he barely had time to recognise a blade suspended in the air above him before it plunged downwards.

  Pain exploded through his chest - again and again - until darkness enveloped him.

  CHAPTER 6

  --- Marseilles, October 1097 ---

  --- Lamech ---

  Captain De Lagery paced up and down on the deck of his ship, frustration written all over his face as he checked and rechecked the work of his sailors who were scurrying around to get everything ready.

  He glanced at the water level against the harbour wall. We need to get going right away or we'll miss the tide, he thought. They had tarried for too long in Marseilles already, but he couldn't very well refuse the extra material the Crusaders wanted to bring aboard. Thankfully they had enough space for it, or things might have become sticky.

  He watched the Crusader recruits who had all pitched in to help his men get the ship ready. Two men were walking up the gangplank, carrying bags of wheat on their shoulders.

  Movement caught the corner of his eye and he spun around to face a sailor who was tying down equipment.

  "No!" he shouted, causing the sailor to jump in fright. "You have to make sure you double-knot those or they'll slip loose at the first sign of rough seas. Have you not sailed the Mediterranean before?" he bellowed in exasperation.

  The sailor quickly retied the equipment according to the captain's orders. De Lagery walked over to check his work. Satisfied that the ropes were tied securely, he continued pacing through the flurry of moving sailors, shouting orders as he went along.

  He was eager to get going, not only because of the tide, but because the Crusaders desperately needed their equipment and provisions. Grumble as he might, deep down he felt sympathy for the poor souls fighting in the pope's holy war.

  By now the Crusaders would have reached the walls of Antioch - arguably the biggest obstacle on their march to the Holy Land. Two years after Pope Urban II's call to take back Jerusalem from the Caracens, and a year and a half after the Crusaders set out from Europe, the Crusader army was rapidly dwindling in numbers. Antioch would probably be the
make or break test. If it fell, the road to Jerusalem would be open. If not, any hope to take the holy city would disappear.

  Keeping an open supply route by land between Europe and Jerusalem was crucial to the Crusade's success. And Antioch lay right in the middle of that route.

  Wrestled from the Byzantine Empire by the Seljuks a mere 12 years ago through deceit, Antioch possessed formidable defences. Built at the foot of a mountain, the entire city was surrounded by impenetrable walls. Attacking it from the front would be a nightmare, while slipping in over the mountain at its back was made impossible by the wall that snaked up and over the ridge of the mountain, completely encircling the city.

 

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