Outremer I

by D. N. Carter

  “’Tis just a scratch,” Paul feigned with a wince of pain as Raja studied the wound.

  “Rubbish. Now say you, explain how did you come to receive this…and why are you both up at this early hour?” Raja demanded.

  Taqi and Paul looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

  “I, er, we that is, we wanted to see if we could help serve the breaking fast for Stewart and father and his friends,” Paul tried to explain as Raja bathed the wound hard with copious amounts of hot water from the bowl.

  Suddenly the internal door to the kitchen that led from the main hallway burst open. All in the room jumped in fright at the loud bang as the heavy door slammed against the wall to reveal Stewart standing there, dressed in his new Knight Templar white mantle robe. His face was red with rage as he stood tall filling the entire doorway, menace in his eyes, his fists clenched.

  “’Twas you! You!” Stewart shouted and immediately began to rush around the side of the table knocking over two tall wooden butter churns, one spilling out its liquid content as it hit the floor. Paul stood up fast knocking back the bench he was sitting upon as Raja just managed to stand upright. As Paul started to shuffle backwards, Raja stood in the way and tried to block Stewart’s path, but he kicked the bench next to her aside with such force it smashed against the new brickwork of the main cooking fire oven.

  “I can explain, let me explain,” Paul said quickly raising his hands to keep Stewart back.

  Stewart grabbed Paul’s robe hard and pulled him close with his left hand, raised his right fist as if about to hit him, when Taqi rushed forwards, stood upon the nearest bench, used it to leap onto the table, knocking several prepared dishes to the floor, and dived at Stewart, grabbing him around the neck, the force of which made both him and Stewart fall sideways, but Stewart immediately released his grip on Paul and lifted his arms to grab Taqi on his back. Both fell hard onto the stone floor and rolled over. Quickly Taqi jumped back up and rushed over to stand in front of Paul protectively as Stewart jumped to his feet, his face etched with a deep scowl of anger, his eyes staring wildly. Instantly he drew his sword.

  “In God’s name what are you doing?” Raja screamed and rushed in front of Taqi and Paul outstretching her arms. “Have you lost your mind?” she shouted as Taqi held Paul behind him.

  Stewart hesitated, snorting through his nostrils like an animal almost. He stared hard at Raja, then Paul.

  “’Twas you…look,” Stewart snarled as he reached with his left hand into his robe and pulled out a chunk of Taqi’s ripped undergarment. He clenched it tightly and shook it, then threw it towards Paul. It fell into the part churned spilt milk on the floor.

  “Yes, and if you would let me explain,” Paul began to say, shaken by his brother’s outburst, tears welling in his eyes.

  “You cannot explain this? You had NO right being there. You have marked my service to the Order already. Do you understand that…do you?” Stewart demanded to know through gritted teeth.

  “I can…honestly I can,” Paul started to reply when Taqi interrupted him.

  “Service to the Order; one that demands of you that you kill Muslims? What about your service to your family?” he retorted angrily.

  “Do not lecture me, Taqi!” Stewart shouted back and slammed his sword down hard onto the chopping board, made from a large section of tree trunk that stood nearby, making them all flinch. The sword stuck in the wood. As Stewart’s anger rose, his rage seemed to consume him further as he struggled to pull the sword free. With a loud groan he heaved the sword free and swung it in the air.

  “Stewart NO!” screamed Alisha as she entered the kitchen wearing just a long cotton white night gown. In shock she stood frozen staring at him, her hand across her mouth, alarm registered across her face.

  Stewart also froze as he looked at her, the first time since seeing her over a year ago. He coughed, took several deep breaths and slowly lowered his sword. He looked at her quizzically, then at the sword in his hand, then towards Raja still stood protectively in front of Taqi and Paul, all clearly emotional. Alisha gasped as she saw the wound on Paul’s face. She rushed around towards him just as Stewart dropped his sword, so that it hit the corbelled stone floor with a loud clanging, and slumped down on a milking stool at the end of the table and put his head in his hands, shaking in bewilderment. Raja slowly moved toward him and placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. Alisha pulled Paul’s head towards her. Her eyes immediately filled with tears as she fought not to cry at the sight of the deep cut. Taqi started to clear up the mess of the broken plates and preparations as Paul and Alisha sat down. Paul looked across at Stewart as he looked up at him. Stewart raised his hands as if by way of an apology looking utterly distraught and confused.

  “Did Stewart do this?” Alisha asked emotionally breaking the silence.

  Both Paul and Taqi shook their heads no and all looked at Stewart.

  “No, ’twas not. He would not do such a thing to his brother, a brother who loves him,” Paul replied. Stewart’s eyes began to fill with emotion and a single tear fell down his cheek as he shook his head.

  “What rage is this that so consumes me?” he asked softly, the anger receding.

  Raja rubbed his shoulders and looked quizzically at all of them sat around the kitchen.

  All turned and looked towards the main doorway as they heard the heavy front door opening. Within moments Philip and Firgany accompanied by the English Grand Master entered the kitchen. The three of them stood in total silence looking at the scene before them. Concern registered across Philip’s face when he saw the deep cut on Paul’s face.

  “Did Stewart do that?” he demanded to know, his voice uncharacteristically harsh.

  “No, Father. Not he. ’Twas a fence,” Paul answered as Alisha very gently wiped away more blood from his face.

  Philip looked at Stewart for what seemed an age. Raja feigned a sad smile.

  “’Twas a misunderstanding here,” she stated.

  The English Grand Master walked around to stand near to Stewart as the local Grand Marshal entered the kitchen via the rear door, stepping down the single stone step from the courtyard and nearly slipping in the part curdled milk seeping across the floor. The English Grand Master bent down and picked up the sword off the floor. He looked at it for a moment then handed it toward Stewart. Confused, Stewart looked at him, then his father and Firgany in turn.

  “You must learn to control that temper of yours, young Templar,” the English Grand Master said, softly offering Stewart the sword. Stewart stood up slowly and nervously took the sword.

  “I am ashamed, Grand Master,” he said, his voice dry and full of emotion.

  “Good; then learn from it,” he replied and nodded and indicated by looking at his scabbard to sheath the sword. Quickly Stewart sheathed his sword, sniffed and stood upright. “I think we shall forget this little incident… whatever it was. And Philip, I appreciate with much gratitude the lengths you have gone to with this lavish meal prepared, but I think you would agree, it is perhaps best we leave. Perhaps we can arrange a more suitable celebration later,” he continued and then looked hard at Paul.

  Paul shook his head from side to side, Alisha sat closer to him, her left hand resting upon his right shoulder, her other hand gently washing his wound. She became aware that all were staring at her. She blushed as she lowered the linen cloth back to the bowl. Stewart stared at her looking directly into her eyes. She forced a smile but it was clearly an awkward smile. She looked down and squeezed the blood from the cloth.

  “I shall send the best physician I know to administer to that presently,” the local Grand Marshal said as he moved further into the room.

  “Good, and perhaps whilst he is sorting his face, maybe you two could offer some guidance and advice and press upon these two that, fortunately for them, they are so young and known to us,” the English Grand Master said as he walked and stood behind Paul. Alisha moved nervously on the bench clenching Paul’s right han
d tighter. She looked up into Paul’s eyes. “Others would not get off so lightly,” he continued and placed his right hand upon Paul’s left shoulder. Paul froze but was surprised when the English Grand Master gently, almost reassuringly, squeezed his shoulder and leaned nearer to him. “Our Order has much need of men like you. Remember my name, for I once knew your mother…I am Richard de Hastings and I know the Crimson Thread flows through your veins,” he whispered then stood up straight.

  Paul looked up at his father nervously, Stewart still staring at Alisha. Firgany tutted and shook his head as Taqi raised his hands in a futile gesture of apology to him.

  “Stewart.…Stewart,” Philip said to gain his attention. Stewart blinked a couple of times before breaking his stare.

  “Forgive me, Father. My emotions have run high this morning. Paul….?” Stewart started to say with a deepness of tone, his voice sounding like he had a sore throat.

  “No, ’tis I who owe the apologies…Stewart, Father, Firgany, Masters,” Paul replied looking at all in the room, blood still slowly oozing from the wound as Alisha placed the linen cloth over it and held it in position. “I, I just wanted to know what was happening. I am so sorry if I have ruined the ceremony for you,” he said apologetically, looking at Stewart. Stewart looked drawn and tired and simply shrugged as the local Grand Marshal stood next to him.

  “’Twas my entire fault. Honestly, I dragged Paul to come along. This is all my doing…please, if there be any blame or punishment, let it be mine alone,” Taqi quickly interjected.

  “Er, no it wasn’t. I do have a mind of my own, you know,” Paul shot back and looked at Alisha closely.

  “There is no real harm done, thankfully, save that scar you have this day gained. And Stewart…well, he is fine. We finished the ceremony. His hair has been sealed and all was completed. We shall leave it at that,” the local Grand Marshal said and placed an arm around Stewart’s shoulders and shook him briefly.

  “I will accept what punishment I deserve for this,” Stewart replied looking at the English Grand Master.

  “I think you are suffering enough, so long as the regret is genuine. Now come, let us leave so our hosts can salvage some of these fine preparations and we can have that wound sorted,” the English Grand Master said aloud and ushered with his hands for them to leave. Taqi caught Paul’s eye as he mouthed ‘hair sealed?’ silently. Taqi shrugged his shoulders, clueless.

  “I shall have most of this brought up to the preceptory so it can be used, and rest assured I shall certainly be chastising these two for their actions,” Philip stated as he walked into the main hallway. Firgany stood still, his arms folded, looking at Paul, Alisha and Taqi disappointedly shaking his head. Stewart looked back over his shoulder as he left the kitchen at Alisha. She noticed him looking at her and quickly looked down, embarrassed, which both Paul and Taqi noticed.

  As Stewart was ushered out of the main entrance doors by the local Grand Marshal, the English Grand Master pulled Philip near to him.

  “Thank you for going to all the trouble with the preparations. Stewart clearly feels very passionately about the Order, and for that I cannot fault him. But, we cannot let his uncontrolled rage be let off completely,” he whispered to Philip. Philip shot a look of concern at him. “Oh, please do not worry yourself. Nothing too harsh. A month of hard stable duties will give him time enough to reflect. But I know how brothers can solicit great jealousy and rages within the best of us,” he quickly reassured Philip. Philip smiled and offered his hand to shake. The English Grand Master took his forearm as did Philip his forearm, then broke the grip immediately clenching their fists into a cupped diamond shape, then placed their hands side by side each other’s.

  “It has been a great honour to have you officiate as my son’s receiver into the Order,” Philip said, still keeping his hand next to the English Grand Master’s.

  “The honour was mine. Stewart shows much promise. As does young Paul,” he replied.

  “Stewart has desired nothing more since I can ever recall. But Paul, well, he is something totally different again. I do not think the bounds and constraints of the Order are for him, certainly not in a physical way. Stewart, he is big and strong, but Paul, well as you have seen, his strengths lie in his mind,” Philip explained and looked back at Paul and Alisha sitting at the table.

  1 – 4

  “The Order has a greater need of learned and wise men. They are the ones who can safeguard our secrets and guarantee they carry them over to the future where they belong,” the English Grand Master replied and placed a hand upon Philip’s shoulder. “Teach him all you know as well as you can. I shall have the maps he so desperately desires sent across without further delay, for he is ready. And find a way to explain the Crimson Thread.…if you can,” he concluded, patted Philip on the arm and immediately left.

  Philip took a very deep breath, his hands upon his hips and thought for a moment, tapped his foot on the boot cleaning mat, shook his head and looked up at the high ceiling above him.

  “Oh, my dear wife, this is when I miss and need you and your wise guidance the most,” he said aloud to himself and sighed. His thoughts were soon again interrupted as Paul’s voice entered his head.

  “Father, father, I am afraid I have broken Alisha’s expensive mirror,” Paul said loud enough for him to hear down the corridor. Philip turned on his heels to see him sat waving the broken mirror. Paul feigned a smile and a pained grimace resulted.

  As Philip re-entered the kitchen, Firgany was already holding the broken mirror. Alisha looked at him almost pleadingly as she squeezed Paul’s hand tighter. Paul nervously awaited both Firgany’s and his father’s wrath he thought he fully deserved and expected. Taqi moved to stand behind Paul and Alisha as Raja put her hand on Firgany’s arm and looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. Firgany studied the broken hand mirror, and then looked up at Philip.

  “This, this we can replace or fix, but that,” Firgany said as he pointed closely to Paul’s open face wound, “that we cannot fix!”

  Alisha quickly looked back at Paul as he clasped his hand over hers resting upon her knee. Firgany’s gaze fell towards their hands. He raised a disapproving eyebrow, which Paul immediately acknowledged by pulling his hands free and away from her knee. Raja beckoned for her to stand and follow her. Reluctantly Alisha stood, gently placed her hand against the side of Paul’s face and held it there staring intently into his eyes. Paul studied her face in every detail. The curve of her lips, her nose and the emotion in her eyes. He started to raise his hand to cup her face.

  “Ahum!” Philip coughed.

  Alisha looked at Philip then her father as Raja started to usher her away from Paul. Taqi moved and stood directly behind Paul as he gave a slight nervous wave to Alisha. Firgany and Philip raised their eyebrows at each other as Philip sat down on the bench directly opposite Paul and Taqi. Firgany looked at Alisha, her white night robe stained with Paul’s blood.

  “Away with you and do not show yourself again until you are properly attired, and burn that robe. You will not get that stain out,” he said.

  Alisha looked down her loose hanging robe to see several large stains of blood. Firgany shook his head slightly and without any further words Raja escorted her away.

  “Sit!” Philip commanded, making Taqi and Paul jump.

  Taqi did not hesitate and sat next to Paul immediately as Firgany moved to stand behind them. He placed his large hands upon their shoulders. Taqi looked at Paul, feeling very uncomfortable. Firgany motioned they look at Philip.

  “Paul, I will not shy away from what has happened here this night. You have greatly offended your brother on what was perhaps the most important night of his life. It will be for him to decide if and when he should ever forgive you. As for me…I hope the scar you will now carry for the rest of your life will act as a permanent reminder of your selfish folly,” Philip chastised.

  “Selfish, huh, selfish! How can you…,” Paul responded but was cut short as Philip raised
his hand to silence him.

  “I will not hear your excuses. It will be up to Firgany to discipline Taqi as he sees fit, but my punishment for you is simple. You will be banned from attending your schooling with Sister Lucy for two weeks.”

  “What? No! Anything else, Father…I shall even gladly do pig duty but not my lessons. Please, Father, I beg of you,” Paul shot back, his face red.

  “I will not be moved on this judgement. Be thankful that is all the punishment you will receive,” Philip replied as he stood up. “And know this; we know you will have many questions about what you saw this night, but we will not be answering them until we are certain we can trust you… both of you! You are nearly men now. You must accept responsibility for your actions for they always have consequences,” Philip explained and looked at Firgany, who nodded in agreement.

  “I too fully agree. You both still demonstrate the reckless idiocy of youth and adventure,” Firgany said, releasing his tight grip on their shoulders. “You cannot force beginnings you have no understanding of. As said, in time, and only if you can demonstrate you have grown in wisdom, will either of us explain what you saw. As for you, son,” he continued and pulled Taqi’s head to look at him directly, “I know this folly was of your making.”

  “No, no it was not, it was mine also,” Paul interjected.

  “Admirable, Paul, but we all know that is not true. Now, my son, my dear son, you will spend the remainder of our time here assisting the children in the port preparing Oakham for the ship repairers,” Firgany informed Taqi with a frown.

  “Father! No way. I would rather do pig duties in the pen for it seems our faith and practices have no merit after all from what I have heard and seen this night,” Taqi retaliated harshly.

  Firgany leaned intimidatingly into Taqi.

  “Show some respect, my son, for as big as you are growing, you are not too big to go across my knee. Now you do not understand what you saw. Neither of you do. Put it all from your minds and never mention it again… ever, until such a time as we shall see fit!” Firgany said with a menace in his voice that took Taqi by surprise. “You cannot force new beginnings, and that is exactly what you risk doing by insisting upon answers that, if we gave them, you would still remain none the wiser,” Firgany finished as he moved away.