Outremer I

by D. N. Carter

  As he looked up at the inscription, he slowly stepped beneath it and then waited. He laughed at himself for expecting some kind of sensation from God. He shook his head. He jumped as he heard someone behind. Immediately he turned and went to grab his sword, only then realising he had again left it hanging up in the caravan. As he squinted against the bright sunlight, a figure blacked out the sun, casting rays to shine all around the person. Only as the person stepped down into the shade did Paul realise it was in fact the blacksmith’s daughter.

  “I am sorry. Did I frighten you?” she asked, smiling broadly.

  “Yes…yes you did,” Paul laughed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just thought I would follow you. Don’t worry my father knows I am with you.”

  “Does he now. Well I think we should head back immediately…don’t you?” Paul replied and began to usher her back through the ruined doorway.

  She was about fourteen years of age, her skin very pale and her hair a flaxen red almost. She had sparkling pale blue eyes and a hint of freckles on her cheeks. Paul had been made more than aware by both Alisha and Taqi that this young girl had taken a liking to him. Her name was Tara; Theodoric had already told them all about what her name meant several nights previous during one of his many lecturettes as he called them. Tara meant ‘rocky hill’ or ‘high hill’ but also meant ‘star’ or ‘earth’.

  As Paul and Tara walked back towards the main track and convoy, he caught a glimpse of movement to his right near to the shallower part of the sinkhole. He stopped to see better. It was only then that he realised there was a man crouching…just out of sight, armed with a large metallic club with several spikes coming from it. He had grey curly hair but bald on top. He wore an eye patch over his left eye. As he kept bobbing up to look at the convoy still making camp, Paul could clearly see the man’s powerful muscled arms protected at the top and shoulders by four layered plates of laminar armour. He wore pressed leather upper chest body armour and chain mail around his neck only. On his right forearm he wore a gauntlet. Quickly Paul ushered Tara along sensing the danger. His heart began to race. His head became filled with a peculiar sensation and he felt sick. He gulped as Tara looked at him alarmed seeing the colour in his face drain. She looked where Paul had been looking and also saw the man. She gasped but quickly covered her mouth and began to pull Paul as she started to run. The man looked in their direction. The moment he realised he had been seen, he stood up, waved his mace club around his head and shouted something. Instantly a whole line of similarly clad men jumped up into view all along the ridge line of the sinkhole and started running towards the convoy shouting and screaming.

  “Run!” Paul shouted and began to run also holding Tara’s hand. Paul’s mind exploded in a frenzy of thoughts, his only aim to get to Alisha and Arri. “Tenno! Tenno!” he continued to shout as he ran on.

  Tenno looked up as he had been following at a discreet distance and saw Paul and Tara running towards him, Paul frantically waving his hands. Tenno look on puzzled. Then he saw to his left and heading straight for Paul and Tara all the armed men. Instantly Tenno realised it was an attack and pulled out his main sword.

  “Taqi…Theo. On me…NOW!” he shouted as several Templars saw what was coming and immediately drew their swords.

  Taqi looked over at Tenno initially confused, then seeing Paul instantly realised the serious position he was in. He ran to the rear of Paul and Alisha’s caravan, leaned in and grabbed Paul’s sword, Alisha looked at him alarmed as shouting and screaming began to rise.

  “Stay in here and do not come out until I come for you!” Taqi shouted at Alisha and he slammed the door shut before she could reply. He ran around the caravan just as Theodoric ran up next to him.

  “Where is Lucy?” he shouted.

  “I do not know…with Stephanie I think,” Taqi shouted back and ran off in the direction of Paul. Tenno was already half way to Paul and Tara as several bowmen stopped in the distance, drew their arrows back, aimed towards them and let loose. “PAUL!!!”

  Paul heard Taqi shout as he still ran pulling Tara. He hesitated momentarily and stopped. He and Tara looked to their right just in time to see the arrows arch slightly upwards but coming their way. Suddenly Tara pushed Paul hard aside and placed herself directly in front of him and closed her eyes shut tightly. Paul only had time to blink before a long arrow struck Tara in the middle of her chest; it part exited from her back and pinched Paul just below his chest nicking his skin. As Tara’s legs gave way, he grabbed her under her arms and knelt down with her as the bowmen re-armed and re-aimed. As they drew back their arrows to fire, Tenno suddenly appeared in front of Paul to shield them. An arrow came directly towards them. At the very last moment, Tenno stepped forwards, raised his sword and deflected it, the arrow bouncing off and flying over them.

  Paul looked to his left as Taqi ran faster towards them as arrows zipped past him. Several Templars came rushing from further along the track and their vanguard position. Whoever the bandits were, they were attacking the weakest link in the convoy in the middle. Paul registered several bandits jumping over the walls near to the caravans. Quickly he looked down at Tara. She was looking up at him, her eyes wide as blood began to seep out from the corner or her mouth. She coughed briefly, smiled at Paul, then the pupils in her eyes widened as she died in his arms. Her smile was fixed upon her face. Paul looked up as Taqi was upon them. He thrust Paul’s sword at him. Quickly he lowered Tara to the grass, unsheathed his sword throwing the scabbard down and instantly started to run back towards the caravans. Taqi frowned then realised why he was running that way and not towards the bowmen. He ran after him as Tenno ran towards the bowmen in full view.

  Paul ran towards his own caravan, panic coursing through his veins as he saw two armed men approach it with flaming torches. One of the men was dressed like the first man he had seen, but he was actually wearing a large bull’s head creating a frightening appearance. The man was trying to set the caravan alight as several more concentrated on getting inside Princess Stephanie’s larger caravan. Seeing the man trying to set the caravan alight sent a surge of absolute rage throughout Paul’s body and without thought or hesitation he ran towards the man. Only as he drew near did he realise the man was huge. At least 6 foot 4 tall and with the bull’s head he looked even bigger. The man turned to look at Paul, stood up straight, his cold grey eyes fixing upon Paul’s eyes. The man grinned and opened his arms wide as if to mock him. Paul did not stop running forwards. When he was almost upon the man, the man raised his left arm holding the flaming torch but with a small wooden defensive shield strapped to his forearm, to block Paul’s sword. He raised his right hand high with his large sword ready to bring it down upon Paul but Paul screamed in rage and thrust his two handed sword forwards with just his right hand. The blade cut straight through the shield shattering it into splinters, it carried on through the man’s forearm metal gauntlet, cutting straight through his arm and out the other side. As Paul’s sword continued towards the man’s stomach, the man dropped the flaming torch and looked down briefly in utter shock and surprise. The bull’s head seemed to merge with the man’s face presenting a fearsome sight. Paul kept pushing the sword forwards with all his might as his body slammed into the man, the sword then slicing right into the man’s stomach making a sickening squelch noise as it did. The sword only stopped when the hand guard blocked it from going in any further, the main part of the blade now sticking out of the man’s back. The man’s powerful strength and size stopped Paul instantly and he looked down into Paul’s eyes as pain began to replace the look of shook. He rolled his eyes upwards and began to slump forwards, his whole body weight now falling down on Paul. Paul steadied the man with his left hand and pulled out his sword in one movement, blood trailing out and off the blade as Paul swung it backwards, some of the blood spurting out across Paul’s face and chest. As he pushed the man backwards crumpling to the ground dead, Taqi stopped beside him out of breath and stared down at the dea
d man, then quickly at Paul. More screaming started to their front and from behind as several more bandits jumped over the wall opposite them and four more appeared behind them. Paul patted out the small smouldering flames at the side of the caravan as he eyed up the men to his front, Taqi standing directly behind him so they stood back to back. Paul could hear Arri crying inside the caravan, his own ears ringing with a high pitch whine almost. He felt his fingers pulse as blood surged through his veins when he gripped the sword with both hands. One of the approaching bandits looked at the dead man at Paul’s feet in disbelief.

  “Paul…this could prove problematical,” Taqi shouted as they pushed their backs together tighter. Taqi raised his sword, took a deep breath as two of the bandits rushed towards him looking like crazed animals. As Taqi raised his sword up to his right and high, Paul did exactly the same. In unison their bodies twisted, their swords flew upwards, then together back down in a wide arch as if they were one. Taqi’s sword caught the first bandit to his left across the throat. Instantly the bandit’s legs flew upwards as he tried to stop and dropped his shorter sword as he went down. Taqi’s sword continued in the wide arch from his left to his right in a downward motion and as it did, it sliced across the right leg muscles just above the knee of the second bandit. Paul’s sword came down hard into the laminar armour plate over the shoulder of the bandit nearest to him shattering the metal plate instantly. The sword carried on through the man’s collar bone and continued right through his shoulder, beneath his arm and exited beneath his armpit. The man’s entire arm fell away as Paul quickly raised the sword for a second swipe as Taqi did likewise. The man staggered backwards in shock, stumbled and fell to the ground. Paul swung the sword high with both hands as the second bandit rushed him. As the bandit thrust his sword towards him, Paul rammed his sword downwards with all his might. His sword made contact with the bandit’s sword and a loud clang rang out followed by a resonating hum as the bandit’s blade disintegrated, Paul’s sword continuing downwards and hitting the man’s leg just above the knee instantly severing his lower leg. The man fell backwards screaming holding the stump as blood pumped out ejecting it some distance up against the side of the caravan and all over Paul and Taqi. The other remaining bandits momentarily froze and looked at the two writhing in agony on the ground and their leader dead. They stared at Paul as Taqi stepped forwards to block a strike from another bandit. As the bandit went to take another strike, more bandits appeared jumping over the wall and from behind Taqi. Paul and Taqi pushed themselves back to back again and readied their swords.

  “This may prove a bit more difficult, my friend,” Paul shouted as the bandits, their faces contorted with rage and aggression, made a rush for them.

  Both instinctively crouched defensively and pointed their swords as the men all charged at them. Just as the first man was upon Paul, he thrust the sword upwards, the blade catching the man in his chest but exiting to the side of his neck. With the man’s bodyweight, Paul could not remove the sword. He looked to his right as another bandit raised a large double bladed battle axe above his head and started to swing it down towards him. Paul instinctively pushed backwards against Taqi. Almost in slow motion it appeared, as Paul caught sight of a crossbow bolt silently streak past his shoulder and slam into the bandit’s throat. The bandit paused startled, then started to convulse and staggered backwards, his eyes wide. He dropped the battle axe and fell backwards himself as he grabbed the bolt sticking in his neck. Suddenly the next bandit also fell when hit by a bolt in the forehead. As Paul struggled to his feet pulling Taqi up with him, the bandits started to turn and run.

  “Look,” Taqi coughed, his throat dry.

  Paul turned around to see several Templars on horseback along with many assorted Confrere Knights and sergeants firing crossbow bolts at the bandits. Tenno was being held by several sergeants, who feared he was also a bandit as Theodoric was trying to pull them away from him and putting himself in front of their swords.

  “NO! He is a friend!” Paul shouted out in a very deep voice and moved towards them. Two Templars rushed past Paul towards the men on the ground still alive but squirming.

  Before Paul had time to say anything further the two Templars placed the tips of their swords upon the chests of the two surviving bandits and thrust them down hard to finish them off. As they twisted their swords in them, the noise sickened Paul as his senses started to return. As the knights holding Tenno released him, he gave them all a filthy look of disgust and grabbed back his sword from the sergeant holding it. He bowed briefly at Theodoric.

  “You are welcome,” Theodoric remarked as Tenno rapidly approached Paul, pulled him close and checked him over.

  Paul was covered in blood almost from head to toe. Taqi was also covered in blood but not half as much. Paul looked at all the other knights that had appeared from almost nowhere just as Princess Stephanie came walking over fast followed by Brother Matthew. As Princess Stephanie reached Paul a well dressed mounted knight with blonde hair made his way towards them through the group of knights and sergeants.

  “You. Yes you there. Did you kill that man with the bull’s head on,” he asked impolitely pointing at Paul.

  Paul looked behind himself at the large man lying dead at his feet still wearing the bull’s head. Slowly Paul turned to face the mounted knight. As he did, only then did he realise the strange sensation pulsing through his right hand as he held the sword tightly, blood still running out of the fuller and off the tip of the blade.

  “Yes. ’Twas I,” Paul finally answered.

  Two other Templars rapidly rushed over and began to pick the dead man up.

  “You have killed the outlaw known as The Bull. Did you realise that?” the knight asked as another knight on horseback pulled up alongside him and immediately dismounted. He approached Paul, looked at him for a few moments before checking the face of the dead man being held up by the two Templars. Taqi looked on utterly bemused and shaking. As soon as Paul saw Taqi shaking from the after affects of their actions, he thought of Alisha and Arri. Without a word he turned and rushed to the back of the caravan. The blonde haired knight looked at Tenno and then Taqi as Theodoric stepped forwards.

  Paul unbolted the latch and swung the little door open. As he stepped up into the doorway he immediately saw Alisha sat at the far end cradling Arri. Her lip was quivering uncontrollably as she fought to control her emotions. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Paul covered in blood and she opened her mouth, shocked. Quickly Paul jumped inside and rushed to sit next to her placing his sword upon the table as he moved closer. Taqi appeared and climbed up inside too and moved to sit the other side of her. Alisha just stared at them both in turn utterly speechless. Paul put his blood covered hand upon her leg and looked into her panic stricken eyes. She shook her head, still speechless.

  “Sister…are you okay?” Taqi finally asked as he looked at her intently.

  Alisha looked at Arri still sound asleep wrapped in his swaddling. She kissed his little nose very gently then lowered him so she was holding him in just her left arm against her stomach. Taqi smiled and leaned nearer when she suddenly raised her right hand and slapped him hard. Paul looked at her, surprised, as Taqi sat up straight and rubbed his face, confused.

  “You ever…ever lock me in a caravan again like that and I swear you will not win the fight that would follow,” Alisha stated, her voice broken and shaking with emotion. She then looked at Paul. She studied the blood all over him for a few moments not knowing what to say.

  “I am not hurt. This is not my blood,” Paul reassured as Taqi rubbed his face still.

  As he spoke those words, Princess Stephanie and Sister Lucy appeared at the doorway. Alisha looked at them and then back at Paul. Slowly she rested her head against Paul’s shoulder and started to sob. Paul put his arm around her and looked at Taqi. Both shook their heads. Only then did Paul begin to relax and started shaking himself. Even though his arm was around Alisha, Paul could still sense the sword in his
hand and he looked at it upon the table. Today he had killed a man. A stain upon his soul as Theodoric had often told him when you kill another person. He wanted to cry but with Princess Stephanie and Sister Lucy still stood looking at them, and Taqi looking so composed, he dare not. He kissed Alisha on the head and thought of Tara. He shook his head slowly as Alisha continued to sob.

  Chapter 22

  Reality!

  Theodoric motioned for Taqi to come out of the caravan and, as he stood to leave, Sister Lucy started to climb up to go inside.

  “Paul…Paul. I am afraid your presence is required. It will not take long. Lucy will sit with Alisha. Is that okay with you, Alisha?” Theodoric asked softly if somewhat awkwardly.

  “Bring them to my caravan to freshen up and rest properly,” Stephanie said quietly to Sister Lucy.

  Alisha held Paul’s hand tightly as tears still fell from her face. She sniffed as she tried to compose herself. Eventually she looked up at him. Her eyes were red and she kept shaking. She had been overwhelmed with fear when she had tried to get out of the caravan and smelt the smoke and heard all the screaming and shouting.

  “I never want to be in that position ever again,” she finally whispered in a dry voice.

  Paul looked at her. His beautiful wife and son could have so easily been killed. He looked at the sword again upon the table. Never again would he leave it behind he vowed to himself. Alisha looked him up and down still soaked in blood. Her bottom lip quivered again as she fought to say something, but words simply failed her. Paul gently kissed her on the cheek.

  “I shall be right back. I promise,” he said softly and began to stand. As he did Alisha grabbed his arm. She said nothing, just looked at him for a few moments. “I love you, Ali,” Paul said and moved away to leave. Alisha mouthed back in silence she knew.