Outremer I

by D. N. Carter

  “You are no brother of mine. You are nothing but a weak and pathetic fool of a boy trying to be a man and that is all you will ever be with your stupid maps and poems,” Stewart snarled again, sweat forming upon his head, his sword shaking almost uncontrollably near to Paul’s face.

  “Please, Stewart…do not hurt him further,” Alisha pleaded as she tried to walk nearer cautiously, still holding her side in pain. Her eyes met Paul’s. He could see she was in pain.

  “Aaaaarrrgh!” Paul screamed loudly and with all his might and strength, placed his feet into Stewart’s stomach and pushed him hard away. Stewart staggered backwards and hit the side of the main stove hard. As he went to straighten up, Paul was already up and on his feet. As Stewart stood up straight and began to raise his sword, Paul grabbed his forearm, the strength and intensity of his grip surprising Stewart. As he looked at Paul, without warning Paul head butted him hard, Stewart’s nose instantly breaking and blood spurting downwards onto his beard and all over his white mantel surcoat and also onto Paul’s leather overcoat. Stunned, Stewart tried to use his left arm to grab Paul, but Paul brought his knee up hard into Stewart’s groin, his eyes widening in pain instantly. As he began to crumple to his knees, Paul stood back, twisted Stewart’s right forearm, squeezed his wrist and snatched away his sword. Quickly Paul jumped backwards and pointed the sword at Stewart as he fought to get his breath in agony on the floor.

  “And you…you are no brother of mine for we are most certainly too different by far…,” Paul said, his voice deep with anger. “And this…,” he said shaking the sword. “You think this makes you strong…eh…do you?” Paul shouted louder waving the sword at him. Stewart looked up in pain and then at Alisha who was stood still shaking with emotion her hands covering her mouth. Paul looked at her as he panted out of breath, his head and chest both hurting now. Alisha looked at Paul in utter surprise and shock. Paul looked back at his brother on the floor, his uniform covered in blood. “This is all a sword means to me,” Paul said and instantly outstretched the sword across his leg and in one swift movement, brought it down across his upper thigh, the blade snapping into three shards, a small middle section bursting upwards and embedding itself in the main wooden cross beam, the tip end of the blade sliding across the stone slab floor. “Here, take that to your Master Gerard,” Paul said as he threw the broken handle section on the floor in front of Stewart.

  Stewart rolled onto his backside and rested against the oven side. He looked at the broken sword amazed. He slowly looked up at Alisha. Paul looked at her too, and then walked straight past her and out of the back door slamming it behind him. He could feel blood beginning to seep from the cut on the back of his head.

  “Paul!” Alisha called out after him but he ignored her and kept walking away across the rear courtyard and vanished into the darkness.

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

  “My Lord…and they haven’t even started a proper relationship. No wonder their fathers wished them not to get involved with each other if it was to spawn such events like that. I think I feel ill myself now,” Sarah said, shaking her head.

  “So what happened next? Surely Alisha did not go with Stewart…surely not, especially after what he said to her?” Simon asked and looked at Sarah, who to his surprise gave him a thumbs up.

  “No she did not go with Stewart. Alisha had stood in silence as Stewart picked himself up, collected the two pieces of sword he could, leaving the third piece still stuck in the beam…and with his bloodied face stopped just in front of Alisha as she sobbed holding her hands to her mouth. Then he just walked past her and out through the front door slamming it hard as he went. Poor Alisha just stood where she was for ages…totally alone until Philip and Firgany came back laughing loudly. Their laughter stopped instantly when they saw her and the blood everywhere,” the old man explained.

  “If…if this story is true…not saying I do not believe you, but if it is, then am I correct in assuming that the piece of sword may still be embedded in the beam in the kitchen?” Simon asked.

  All looked at the old man and Stephan in turn.

  “Well…it may be. The only way to confirm that would be to look,” the old man answered.

  With that, all around the table got up fast and hurriedly made their way to the main kitchen hall. The old man looked at Stephan, who remained seated as the others all squeezed their way through the door all at once it appeared.

  “Well I never noticed that before,” Sarah called out loudly.

  Stephan and the old man chuckled. The old man stood up slowly.

  “I must take leave myself for a moment as nature calls,” he said as he made his way past Stephan.

  It was some several minutes before everyone returned to their places around the table. The maid again sitting close to the Templar.

  “That must have taken some strength to snap a blade on a sword surely,” Simon stated as he made himself comfortable.

  “Aye, it would at that. Considerable strength,” the farrier remarked.

  “’Tis truly amazing what one can do when angered,” the Hospitaller said as he picked over the last few hardening pieces of bread on the plate near to him.

  “When men are angered and in battle they can perform unbelievable feats of strength. I have even seen a man cleaved in two, straight down through his head, body and out through his groin, by a man of normal stature, as us,” the Templar said seriously. His brother nodded he had indeed.

  The old man entered the room and sat himself down.

  “I take it the sword piece is still very much there?” he asked as they all nodded or said yes in agreement. “Well then, I am hoping you will wish to know what happened next?”

  Chapter 12

  For Now We See Through a Glass, Darkly

  Paul had stormed off feeling like he had lost everything dear to him. He cursed the parchments, which he blamed for causing so much trouble, he cursed his brother for being so arrogant and selfish, but most of all, he cursed himself for loving Alisha still when he wanted to hate her for what she had done. He felt unbelievably angry inside and felt he could walk through a brick wall. He wandered around La Rochelle alone half the night in the dark. He even deliberately walked into a notorious street known for its loose women that the sailors frequented. Several sailors jeered at him in their drunken state but Paul just walked towards them and through them, half hoping they would pick a fight with him. Eventually in the early hours, he began to calm down. Only then did he start to feel the cold and realise that he had in fact been walking around in the rain. He was soaked but Stewart’s blood remained upon his cape. He slowly made his way back to the main harbour area and as he looked across the bay, southwards, he could just make out the faint flicker of a light shining through his father’s study windows. ‘They must still all be up and awake… they must be worried for me. How selfish of me to worry my father,’ Paul thought to himself.

  “Found you!” Taqi unexpectedly said aloud and out of breath as he landed his hand upon Paul’s shoulder causing him to jump. “Where the hell on…earth…have you been?” Taqi rasped heavily then bent forward trying to catch his breath. “I have run everywhere. We did not know if you were hurt badly or laying in a ditch dead…you ingratus!”

  “Ingratus…what is that?” Paul asked tiredly.

  “Oh you big utter ingratus, my dear friend. You should read your Latin more,” Taqi replied and pulled Paul near and hugged him. “We have Niccolas, half the Hospitallers and even several of Gerard’s Templars out searching for you.”

  “Huh! What about Stewart?”

  “Him…he is fine. His pride is dented somewhat…that you snapped his sword,” Taqi laughed then stood back to look at Paul in the half moonlight as the old lady who usually sat at the corner of the harbour suddenly came into view.

  “The watchers…you know…the birdmen…they watch you,” she said in a deep gravelly voice as she walked past them, looking directly at Paul and then carried on t
owards the harbour wall.

  Both Paul and Taqi shook their heads bemused.

  “What of Alisha?” Paul sighed.

  “Sister Lucy is with her now. I am afraid you and Stewart both terrified her…terribly so.”

  “Oh great. Our fathers will be pleased with me then!”

  “Erm…I think my father wishes to tear you a new arsehole, my friend,” Taqi joked and laughed. Paul laughed nervously, briefly. “Seriously though, they are going frantic with worry. Your brother took himself to Gerard immediately and confessed exactly what had happened and what he had done.”

  3 – 9

  “Oh my Lord no. Not to Gerard.”

  “Do not worry. Gerard was the one who immediately sent help. He admires your brother, my father says. I think it is some kind of surrogate father–son relationship almost between them, though that could be wrong. But Paul, we must get you home…look at you,” Taqi said shaking Paul’s arms.

  “I cannot go home, Taqi…not now. Look at what I have caused. I have dishonoured Alisha, your father’s trust he placed in me, my father’s trust, and probably ruined Stewart’s career for good this time.”

  “Paul…you have not. Maybe next time you will listen to me, eh?” Taqi smiled as he was getting soaked more by the rain.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Was it not I who warned you about my sister? I told you she was a handful…but would you listen…No!” Paul slumped his head down and started to sob. “See my friend…you are just too nice and too soft for your own good,” Taqi remarked, placed his arm around Paul, and started to walk him in the direction of the Manor House. “Quick we must get you home and dry for you are shivering. What am I going to do with you?”

  After a ten minute walk in silence back to the house, Paul hesitated at the side entrance into the rear courtyard. His horse, Adrastos, snorted from inside his covered paddock as if to greet him, sensing his presence.

  “I am beside you all the way. Come on. Ali is in bed so you will not need to face her now,” Taqi said reassuringly as he helped Paul walk the last few yards to the rear kitchen hall door.

  Paul took a deep breath. Through the window he could see Firgany, Philip, Niccolas, the Local Templar Marshal, Gerard and even the Grand Master Odo himself all stood around the main table. All were still dressed in their full mantles as if ready for battle. Paul looked at Taqi, alarmed. Taqi motioned he enter, unclipped the outer door latch and pushed the door open. It hit the back of the local Hospitaller Marshal, whom Paul had not seen. Quickly he moved aside as Paul slowly stepped up and into view.

  “Allah be praised,” Firgany said aloud and a look of relief registered across his face.

  Paul was mystified. He expected Firgany to flail him alive. At least threaten him in some manner. Paul could not control his shivering. Philip picked up one of several large blankets from the bench near him and approached in silence. Without a word he wrapped the blanket around Paul’s shoulders, looked him in the eyes and simply squeezed his shoulders gently. Paul could see the relief in his father’s eyes, not the disappointing look he had expected. Taqi latched the door shut behind him and stood behind Paul. Paul looked at Gerard, who feigned a smile and a quick nod. Paul followed Gerard’s gaze as he looked up at the sword fragment still stuck in the wooden beam.

  “Please…I am sorry for that,” Paul blurted out and shivered again.

  “No need to apologise. We shall leave it there to remind us all of what happened here this earlier eve,” Philip spoke softly and started to usher Paul towards the hallway door.

  Firgany looked at Paul almost apologetically. He closed his eyes momentarily and bowed his head as he passed him.

  “No real harm has been done. We can replace a sword, but we cannot replace you, my son,” Philip said quietly.

  “But Father…Master Gerard…what of Stewart? He did no wrong really…honestly he did not,” Paul said quickly.

  “You need not worry about him. We think he is suffering his punishment hard enough this very minute with himself and his guilt. He knows he has done wrong and he knows he has a temper that must be controlled…and he will learn to in time, with our guidance, of that we can promise,” Master Odo said with authority but calmly. Gerard simply nodded in agreement. Paul looked at Gerard. He seemed relaxed. Different somehow, but he still did not trust him. “Should you wish to pursue your desire to become a Templar in our fleet, I think you will find plenty to second and vouchsafe for you,” Master Odo finished with a slight wave.

  “Come on. We shall discuss this further in the morning…though it is almost that already,” Philip said as he directed Paul towards the stairs.

  Within moments Paul found himself changed, in dry chamber clothes and climbing into his bed. Taqi would sleep in the other spare room. Philip said nothing to him as he collected up his wet clothes. As Paul pulled the sheets and covers up, the house squire Simon appeared with a ceramic sealed container wrapped in fur. It was filled with boiling water. Philip handed it to Paul. It hurt Philip to think of his own sons physically fighting and he felt torn emotionally. He was still dealing with his own grief over Raja, and knew that at some point he would need to address his feelings. This night had exposed many raw emotions. Paul sensed this and no words were necessary between them. Philip slowly closed the door and Paul was enveloped in warmth and darkness. He felt emotional on many levels he had never experienced before. Knowing Alisha was just two doors away was hard to bear. He was shocked and surprised at the revelation of his own strength and anger, but even more shocked that he had vented it upon his own brother. Should he blame Alisha…no, he could not. The image of her, sitting with Stewart, her beautiful face lit up by the candles as he kissed her, would not leave his mind. The churning in his stomach and the almost physical pain he sensed in his heart was unbearable. ‘This was all madness…utter madness,’ he told himself. He tried to sleep but it was a fretful night. Seagulls squawking loudly kept him awake as the early sun rose above the horizon. Exhausted he pulled the sheets and covers over his head. But as he was learning, if he was exhausted and then fell asleep, he would invariably dream. Eventually he did fall asleep and shortly thereafter began dreaming vividly.

  Paul could see the tall white haired man who had saved him and Taqi from the falling masonry at the harbour. He was surrounded by oak trees that appeared to lean in over him like a protective canopy.

  “Love is something you are willing to die for. If you love your brother, you are willing to die for your brother. If you love Alisha, you would die for her. Love is rarely simple because if love wasn’t complicated at times then love would never grow. Life teaches us that love does not consist of gazing at each other endlessly, for to do so, you will get nowhere, but in looking together in the same direction, you will go far. So look forwards… together. Do you hear me, Paul…do you hear me, Paul?” the man asked repeatedly. Paul shook his head from side to side. The image of the man drew closer. “There is always some reason for madness in love, but there is also always some reason in madness. Now would you die for her? Paul… would you die for her?” the man kept repeating over and over getting quieter and quieter until his image started to swirl in a circle of white. “Would you?” the voice suddenly shouted.

  “Yes!” Paul shouted back aloud and opened his eyes wide.

  He sat up and swung his legs around ready to stand. He heard footsteps approach his door followed by a light tapping. His heart jumped. ‘Alisha,’ he thought. Quickly he pulled on his chamber robe, tied the waist cord quickly, checked himself in the small mirror and then nervously unlatched the door. As he pulled it back open, he saw Sister Lucy standing outside alone. She put her finger to her lips to quieten him. Silently she passed him a small leather bound Bible with a marker sticking out of it.

  “Be careful…this is mine. I want it back as it has much sentimental value,” she whispered. Paul leaned out and looked towards Alisha’s room but Sister Lucy quickly pushed him back inside his room. “You stay here and read that. It
may be of some comfort and help. And do not disturb Alisha. I will make good of you two later…now go, shoo!” she whispered and pushed him all the way back into his room and pulled the door closed very quietly.

  Paul sat back down upon his bed and in the dim light seeping through and around the heavy curtains, he opened the Bible at the marker. A small handwritten note on a strip of parchment had been attached to the marker. ‘As written by your name sake, Paul the Apostle, and there is a translation difference here if you can see it and understand’ it read.

  1 Corinthians 13

  The Greatest Gift

  13 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal.2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.4 Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;5 does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; 6 does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;7 bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.8 Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away.9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part.10 But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.11 When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.12 For now we see through a glass, darkly. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.13 And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.