East of Ashes

by Gideon Nieuwoudt

  During a visit three weeks ago, she had finally told him about the letter she had sent to Lamech. He hadn't been convinced that it would help, but he had recognised her need to try anything and had thanked her for it. He knew she was grabbing at straws and he didn't have much hope for it making any difference. But for some strange reason he couldn't stop thinking about it.

  From what he had learned about Lamech during their brief time together, Joash didn't think he would even respond, let alone return from the Crusade to help. After all, it would be in his interest to let Joash be executed.

  Still, even as the bitter thought flashed into his mind, Joash couldn't latch on to it. It was as if the thought was mere vapour; as if it carried very little weight, even though all the facts supported it.

  But time would soon tell - one of the guards had told Joash that morning that the pope had finally arrived in Avignon. The news had been a relief - Joash knew that his trial would be swift and his ordeal was therefore almost at an end. If the Lord was going to work a miracle to get him out of this - with or without Lamech - it would have to happen soon.

  -------

  The messenger ran all the way to the council chambers, but had to force himself to slow down when he entered the building. He walked as fast as he could without being noticed, struggling to get his breathing under control.

  He couldn't help but smile though. The information he had in his possession would most certainly cause a stir, if not change everything.

  He still couldn't understand why the magistrate hadn't discovered this information in all the months that the prisoner had been in his care. Surely if he had questioned the prisoner properly he would have discovered it?

  To be fair though, when he had discovered the thread he hadn't realised what he had had either. While transcribing the magistrate's report for the archives, he had found the prisoner's comments about his travels to Arles quite... interesting. Being curious by nature he had made a few discreet inquiries and discovered a gem that he was convinced His Holiness would be most pleased with.

  It far outweighed anything he had been able to pass on to Rome in the months since he had been approached by the church. They had been looking for someone to keep an eye out for any information pertaining to this case that might pass through the magistrate's office and he had been more than happy to oblige for a few coins.

  He hadn't been able to give the church much information though, but all of that would soon be forgotten. Still, he couldn't help but feel apprehension - it was one thing to supply his contact person at the cathedral with information, but quite another to come to the pope directly.

  When he reached the far end of the long corridor, he paused for a moment in front of the huge doors. Behind it, he knew the pope and his advisers were meeting to discuss the next morning's trial.

  He knew he was taking a massive risk coming straight to His Holiness like this, but there was very little time and he couldn't wait for the information to make its way through the usual channel. He was also pretty sure the information would make up for his presumptuous behaviour.

  Still, it would not do to barge in like a madman.

  The two guards watched him bemusedly while he caught his breath. When he was sure his heartbeat couldn't be heard from across the room, he turned and faced one of the guards.

  "I need to speak to His Holiness. It is a matter of utmost importance."

  The guard weighed him up for a moment and then answered: "Wait here."

  He turned, knocked softly on the door and then entered. Just before the guard closed the door, the messenger glimpsed the pope sitting on a richly decorated chair, his advisers seated in a semi-circle in front of him. They all turned around to look at the guard, but the pope was looking straight at him.

  As far as he knew, the pope didn't know him directly. Most of the time it suited him perfectly, but at this moment he wished things were different. Being turned away now - as likely as it may seem - would be a real tragedy.

  But he couldn't deny that he was scared to death.

  After a few seconds the guard emerged from the room and motioned for the messenger to go in. Relieved and petrified in equal measures, he swallowed hard and then shuffled inside. He bowed low and waited for the guard to close the door behind him before he straightened up again.

  "Forgive my intrusion, Your Holiness, but I have information that you might find of great interest," he said. Despite himself, he couldn't help but steal a glance at the pope.

  The icy stare that met him cut right through him. In that moment he knew how the will of one man had been capable of sending an entire army of soldiers to fight in a distant land, most of them never to return again. It left him both exhilarated and deeply troubled.

  And then the pope broke into a smile, the transformation so complete that the messenger was left completely bewildered.

  "Please continue," the pope said, waving his hand in an encouraging gesture.

  And so he did.

  -------

  As Leala walked down the stairs to Joash's cell, she had to force herself to breathe. It had taken considerable effort to convince the guard to let her see Joash so close to the hearing, but he relented in the end.

  He warned her to hurry though as they would come to fetch him for the hearing in a few minutes. She badly wanted to comfort Joash in some way but she had no idea what to say in the precious time they had left.

  She knew it was unlikely they would speak judgement over him on the first day of the hearing as there was too much to gain by making it as dramatic and stretched out as possible. But she couldn't shake the feeling of rushing headlong down a dark path with scant light to guide the way.

  She reached the bottom of the staircase and paused for a moment to collect herself. Rubbing her face with the palms of her hands to try and remove any signs of the sleepless night she had before, she put on a smile and continued.

  But the moment she saw Joash's face she knew her smile would not be able to hold the fear back. Her resolve cracked and try as she may she couldn't keep the fear from pouring through the cracks and threatening to consume her. It took all her willpower not to break down in tears.

  But she didn't care for trying to appear strong either.

  Running down the corridor to his cell, she grabbed his outstretched hands and tried to hug him through the bars. Standing there with his arms around her, she didn't feel the comfort that she had felt before in his embrace. Still, she drank in his nearness like she was the desert and he the rain.

  After a while her fluttering emotions began to settle down as she felt the Lord gently soothing her with peace. Finally, she was able to regain her footing again on the Rock that had kept her sane all these long months.

  For a long time they didn't say anything, but merely stood there - allowing the Lord to strengthen them through the intimate moment.

  Finally Joash pulled back slightly and cupped her face with both his hands. He kissed her softly on the lips.

  "Don't be afraid, my love," he said and stroked her hair.

  "I know I shouldn't be, but I'm struggling," she answered, almost pleading. "It's the anticipation! I wish..."

  She swallowed hard, unable to say the words.

  "That we could get the hearing over with so that at least we could know what is going to happen?" Joash finished for her.

  "Yes!" Leala exclaimed.

  "Me too," Joash said, then smiled and kissed her lightly.

  "It's not funny!" she said, but she was smiling despite herself.

  "I know. But it's not over yet. We will see the Lord's goodness before this is over, you'll see."

  Leala bit her lip. She didn't want to admit it to him, not now. But she was struggling to believe that the Lord would get them out of this. She knew all the theories and answers in her head, but her heart was struggling to fight the evil that she knew surrounded them.

  Before she could say anything, however, two guards appeared.

  "It's time," one of them said s
olemnly.

  Joash kissed Leala again, this time with slightly more desperation. But when he pulled back she could see an absurdly powerful mix of resolve and peace in his eyes. It left her breathless.

  Then he stepped back, holding onto the tips of her fingers for a fraction longer - and then let go. She was forced to back away too as one of the guards stepped forward and unlocked the cell's gate.

  Both guards entered the cell and spent a few minutes placing Joash in shackles. When they were happy that he was secure, one of them grabbed hold of the chain dangling between his hands and led him out of the cell and up the stairs. The other guard followed at a slight distance.

  Joash turned his head and held her gaze for as long as he could before she disappeared from view. When they were out of sight, she swallowed her tears and followed.

  The long walk to the hall where Joash would be tried was a complete blur to her. Faces and shapes all melted together in indistinguishable forms. It was of little consequence to her. All she could focus on was Joash's shoulders which were slightly hunched forward as he tried to walk in his shackles. He could only manage an uncomfortable shuffle and, if not for the guards who held onto an arm on either side of him, she was pretty sure even that would have been near impossible.

  It was all she could do to not cry out his name.

  Get a hold of yourself, she berated herself. She took a deep breath, held it, blinked a couple of times to clear her vision and then breathed out slowly.

  Ahead she could just make out the big, sturdy wooden doors that led to the hall. The sight of them finally helped her to collect herself. At least once they were through those doors, the months of anticipation would be at an end.

  The doors swung open slowly, dramatically revealing a sliver of light down the length of the hall as the doors parted, growing in size until it was blinding them all. Shielding her eyes with her one hand, Leala was able to make out the sun rising from the east, its light exploding through the windows’ colourful glass.

  Then they entered the hall, where what looked like the entire leadership of the Catholic Church - all of them dashed out in their ceremonial clothing - sat against the walls on either side of the hall. In the middle there was a slightly raised platform, with a few chairs next to it. At the far end of the hall the pope was sitting in a high-backed chair, his closest advisers sitting to his left and right.

  The guards led Joash to the raised platform and made him stand on it. Leala was shown to a seat on his right. She sat down carefully, nervously scanning the faces of all those gathered, looking for a sign of mercy. But she was met by a choir of stoic faces. The only one who was slightly smiling was the pope.

  She couldn't look at him for long, the intensity of his gaze making her very uncomfortable. So she shifted her gaze to the chairs on the other side of Joash. A grim-faced man sat there, staring straight ahead. His beard moved up and down as his mouth worked in silent rehearsal.

  Leala guessed him to be the prosecutor.

  Big day for you, isn't it? she thought spitefully. Feeling guilty, she berated herself and tried to focus on remaining calm instead. She was swinging back and forth between wanting to break out in tears and throttling someone - even the pope - if he dared come too close.

  When the guards had withdrawn to the back of the hall, the grim-faced man on Joash's left got up, bowed to the pope and then said: "If Your Holiness is ready, we can begin."

  The pope didn't answer, but merely nodded.

  The prosecutor then began walking back and forwards, his hands clasped behind his back. He seemed to be considering his words carefully. He came to a halt in front of Joash and looked him squarely in the eye. After pausing, he began speaking.

  "We are gathered here today to determine whether the accused before us is guilty of the murder of Lord Gaal - one of His Holiness’ most trusted confidants and a man who was passionate about two things in life: his God - and the Crusade."

  The prosecutor resumed pacing, walking to and fro between the two groups of church leaders as he continued to extol Gaal's virtues, elaborating on how the pope had chosen him to visit towns across Europe to gain support for the Crusade - and so showing the nobles "the path to true redemption".

  After a few minutes of watching the prosecutor work himself up into a fervour, Leala couldn't take it anymore and was about to speak up when the prosecutor came to a halt in front of Joash and pointed his finger straight at him. Leala bit back her words and waited for what must surely be the drivel master-stroke.

  "And then this man - this agent of Satan - slays him at the height of his passion for the Lord! The evidence is overwhelming and his guilt will be laid bare so that all can see the darkness of his soul!"

  He huffed loudly and then roared at Joash: "Do you admit your guilt?"

  Leala was speechless, trembling at a sudden realisation. This wasn't a hearing - it was a witch hunt. She looked at Joash who was staring unperturbed at the prosecutor. Then she realised another thing: he had known it would be all along.

  "I did not murder Lord Gaal," he answered calmly.

  The prosecutor scoffed at his words.

  "Then who did?" he retorted.

  "As I told my interrogators when I was first arrested, I do not know," Joash answered. "I was not there when the murder took place to witness anything."

  "Yes, you left pretty quickly that evening, didn't you?" the prosecutor interrupted smoothly. "You were in quite a hurry. Almost as if you were running from something?"

  Leala could see that Joash's calm was beginning to wear thin.

  "No. We were not running from anything." Joash turned to the pope: "Your Holiness, I admit that I didn't want to stick around until the authorities returned. I knew my argument with Lord Gaal earlier that evening could be interpreted... inaccurately. But more so I was concerned for Leala's safety and didn't want to stick around in case more of the men who attacked the inn returned."

  "And so you thought travelling alone at night would be safer?" the prosecutor interrupted. "That's very difficult to believe."

  "It was a risk, yes," Joash answered, "But I thought if we kept our eyes open we would be able to avoid them on the road. And we did."

  "It's certainly a possibility," the prosecutor said, and then paced for a few moments, deep in thought.

  "But let me tell you what's more likely: you hired those thugs to attack the inn, to kill Lord Gaal. And when they failed, you did the deed yourself - killing an unarmed man in his sleep. And then you fled. You yourself just admitted you were afraid you would get arrested when Lord Gaal's bodyguard returned with more soldiers."

  Leala almost rolled her eyes. As if killing an armed man in his sleep would somehow be better than killing an unarmed man, she thought bitterly. She wanted to throttle the smug look off his face.

  Next to her Joash wasn't fairing much better.

  "That's preposterous!" Joash nearly shouted. "Do you know how many men I killed that night, defending Lord Gaal?"

  "A good cover, to be sure," the prosecutor purred.

  Joash stared at him incredulously, his face red with anger. He was about to retort when the pope suddenly spoke up: "That's enough."

  Joash swallowed his words and closed his eyes, trying to regain his calm. The prosecutor returned to his seat, smiling happily.

  "We will continue tomorrow," the pope continued, and then looked straight at Leala: "At which time you may call your first witness."

  Leala and Joash stared at the pope in shock. They had hardly begun and already he was calling it a day. In so doing, he was stretching out Joash's torture. Still, it's not like we have a witness to call right now, Leala thought ruefully. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, assuming Lamech miraculously arrived before tomorrow of course. If he didn't, they were in real trouble.

  But then again, if he did arrive she wasn't sure what to expect. It might very well make matters worse.

  -------

  The guards eyed him suspiciously as he climbed down the sta
irs, almost as if they expected him to whip out a sword and try to take their prisoner from them. One of them even had his hand on his sword and glared at him, his eyes shadowed in a small tell-tale sign of fear.

  He smiled slightly at the guard, trying to put him at ease. You don't have to fear me, he thought.

  Continuing down the stairs, he rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of Joash's cell, who immediately noticed him from where he was sitting against the wall. He was unable to hide the shock he felt, but he recovered quickly. He got up and walked to the cell door.

  "Lamech," he said simply.

  "Joash," Lamech replied, then added after a short pause: "It's good to see you."