Outremer I

by D. N. Carter

  “You recall that Paul’s mother was English…and that Philip had work in London that he had to complete. Then let me tell you that he had also worked tirelessly to undo all the ills and wrongs that had befallen England during the reign of King Stephen… for he knew that Britain, Scotia and Ireland was a covenanted land…a sacred and holy land of great antiquity, with the emerald isle of Ireland and Scotia as one, not divided. He knew that the long term key to guaranteeing that sacred secrets of antiquity were carried forward complete would be through that land,” the old man detailed as Gabirol wrote as quickly as he could. “Philip had vowed to his departed wife and others that he would restore and put the sacred land back to what it should be and ultimately keep the whole world we live upon in balance.”

  “That is a massive undertaking for just one man, no?” the Templar stated solemnly.

  “’Tis all it takes…just one man…as the Jesus you all know fully understood. Just one man!”

  “What did King Stephen do then that needed correcting? ’Tis nothing I have heard of,” Ayleth asked and blushed as everyone looked at her.

  “In its briefest terms, the reign of King Stephen of England (1096–1154) was a long period of civil unrest…commonly known as ‘The Anarchy’. In the absence of strong central kingship, the nobility of England became a law unto themselves, everything that Philip, Firgany and Theodoric had tried to eradicate. When certain nobles realised that Stephen was a mild good humoured man who inflicted no punishment, they seized upon that trait and committed all manner of horrible crimes. They paid him homage and swore oaths of fealty to him, yet not one of their oaths was honoured or kept. They were all forsworn and their oaths broken. For every great man built him castles and held them against the king but they sorely burdened the unhappy people of the country with forced labour on the castles, and when the castles were built they filled them with men of evil intent in their hearts. Wicked men. By night and by day they seized those they believed to have any wealth, whether they were men or women, and in order to get their gold or silver, they put them into prison and tortured them with unspeakable tortures, and I do mean unspeakable tortures. They hung them up by the feet and smoked them with foul smoke. They strung them up by the thumbs, or by the head, and hung coats of mail on their feet. They tied knotted cords round their heads and twisted it until it shattered their skulls and their brains burst forth. They put them in dungeons wherein were adders and snakes and toads and so destroyed them. Many thousands they starved to death,” the old man explained and sighed heavily, shaking his head.

  “I sense that you too suffered that same fate at some period…yes?” the Templar asked.

  The old man looked up at him and simply nodded and sat in silence before finally answering.

  “Yes…but that was a long time ago indeed. I digress again, so please…let me continue. Where were we? Ah yes…Kizkalesi Castle.”

  Kizkalesi Castle, Cilician Armenian coast, May 1179

  Princess Stephanie sat at the end of the wide linen and silk covered bed looking at Paul whilst he slept soundly upon her pillows. His arms were outstretched and his chest exposed as the sheets were almost to his waist. The windows on the caravan had their shutters locked open and a gentle sea breeze blew the netted curtains back and forth. Princess Stephanie removed a silk scarf from around her shoulders as the heat in the caravan rose steadily due to the midday sun burning down its fiercest rays in weeks. Carefully she moved her position and uncrossed her legs. Her cream coloured tight fitting dress was becoming uncomfortable. She unlaced the top tier of lacings across her bosom and breathed out a sigh of relief from the release of tension.

  Alisha was feeding Arri in the privacy of her own caravan but Paul had remained in Stephanie’s bed unable to move. Theodoric, Tenno and Taqi were outside helping the blacksmith with his carts, Theodoric offering what condolences he could for their loss of Tara. Sister Lucy meanwhile was trying to source several herbs Theodoric had asked her to obtain. The Templars and Hospitallers had already stabled their horses and set all the other assortment of caravans travelling with them. Brother Matthew was busy with the Hospitaller marshal, paying their tolls and fees as well as other business for the period they would be staying. Princess Stephanie watched Paul for nearly an hour without taking her eyes off of him. He was handsome, strong and intelligent. She warmed to him greatly and felt more than a little guilty how she was feeling. She had come to adore Arri and Alisha, but something about Paul touched her deeply…deeper than any of the men in her life had for many years, including Reynald. She bit her thumb nail as she studied him. Were her emotions just a mixed up collection of all the hopes, dreams and desires she had once felt for Philip, she pondered, all those years ago?

  “You look at him too deeply,” Theodoric suddenly said quietly as he stepped up through the open doorway.

  “Do I now? How long have you been looking at me then to know that?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Then I am thankful it was only you…come in, my friend,” Stephanie said as she stood up slowly and beckoned him in. Theodoric indicated with his eyes and a raised eyebrow at her bosom, her dress opened low almost to her belly button and nearly revealing her breasts. “Ooops!” she smiled and quickly started to re-lace the cords tighter together.

  “You feel much for Paul?”

  “Yes…though I do not know why. Believe me, Theo…I do not wish to…but something about him touches me deeply,” she sighed and looked at Paul again.

  “You know of course that he is married and will never break his vows?”

  “Of course I do. But was it not you who told me…many years ago, that simply because one is married, it does not stop you from all other feelings toward others? It does not make you instantly blind to beauty?”

  “I believe I did say that…once! But just look at the basics here…you are old enough to be his mother.”

  Princess Stephanie shot him a look of disdain and scowled at him upon hearing this comment.

  “Was it not also you who once said that the spirit within us is ageless and that the physical age of a person cannot reflect the age of a person’s soul?”

  Theodoric smiled and moved to look closer at Princess Stephanie. He looked at her pale blue eyes. He frowned and raised his eyebrows as if to ask her a question. Eventually she began to smile and the faint lines that gave away her age creased at the corners of her eyes. But she was still very beautiful, he thought.

  “I have sorely missed our many verbal duels, my young princess,” Theodoric said and held her hands as he looked at her. She had come a very long way since he had last seen her just before her second marriage.

  Princess Stephanie turned to look back at Paul. It had been Theodoric himself who many years previous had taught her to always trust her deep inner instincts. As she recalled this, she could not help but trust those same instincts that were almost screaming at her that this man lying poorly in her bed was somehow deeply connected to her. A seagull screeched out loudly above drawing Princess Stephanie’s gaze away from Paul. He stirred and turned his head. Slowly he opened his eyes squinting from the bright light outside.

  “Ali…is that you?” he asked, his voice dry as his eyes tried to focus upon the two blurred silhouette shapes at the foot of the bed.

  Princess Stephanie looked at Theodoric and sighed. The fact that the first person he calls out for was Alisha was not lost on either of them.

  “No Paul. ’Tis my ugly self and Stephanie,” Theodoric said quietly.

  “I shall go and fetch her for you,” Stephanie said as she stepped away from Theodoric and headed for the open doorway.

  “Theo…what…what is happening? Why am I still here?” Paul asked, confused, and tried to sit up but his arms felt very heavy…too heavy to move. “And where is my sword?”

  “Just relax, young Paul, relax. And I have your sword safely upon my person…look,” Theodoric explained and pulled open his white mantel overcoat to reveal the sword strapped to his waist. �
�I trust no one else with it,” he winked and stood nearer to Paul.

  “Where are we?”

  “Kizkalesi Castle. I am afraid you seem to have picked up something,” Theodoric said and paused before he sat down upon the bed next to Paul. “Though that is what I tell the others.”

  “Why?…I do not understand,” Paul asked and again tried to sit up but could not.

  “What indeed. As your father discovered years ago, when you wield this sword…it…how shall I say, it can and does have an effect upon the user. The more in harmony you are with it, the greater the effect. But also the greater the power behind it…that is why you were able to cut right through that man’s shield, armour and bone and then right through him.”

  “But I did not mean to. In fact I do not recall much at all. Only that I saw him trying to set the caravan alight…and…and I did not feel any fear, just utter rage I think.”

  “’Tis that rage that has caused you to feel like this now. Do not get me wrong…it certainly saved Alisha and Arri and dare I say it, Princess Stephanie and a great many others. The man you killed was indeed an unbeatable opponent to many…but you did it. And there will be those in high places who will be studying you closely. They will want to use you as an asset…but for their own selfish gains and ends. You must be guarded upon that.”

  “Then, Theo…that is where I shall need your guidance and wise counsel,” Paul replied and heaved himself up higher to sit up.

  “No Paul. I did that once before…with your father and Lucy’s husband. I learnt then, that the only counsel I can give is to tell you to listen to your own inner voice…and trust it. No one else’s. By all means let others offer their opinions but do not be misled or brow beaten into following someone else’s agenda. You see, that is the mistake of kings. That was the error that King Stephen in Britain made. It is also the mistake I fear people like Guy will make for he is easily persuaded to follow those who can impress their wills upon him. So mark my words when I say trust your own judgement and never pass the blame to others. Accept responsibility for when you win and for when you lose,” Theodoric explained and started to unfasten Paul’s sword. “Now then, you can have this back now,” he said and placed the sword next to Paul on the bed.

  “Did we not recover the scabbard?” Paul asked, seeing that the sword was still unsheathed and uncovered.

  “No…it could not be found,” Theodoric answered just as Alisha stepped up into the caravan and quickly rushed over to be beside Paul.

  “Allah be praised…and your Lord of course,” she said and lifted his hand up and kissed it.

  “So, Theo, before you go. Is it just this that has made me feel like this?” he asked placing his hand upon the sword.

  “No…not just that. That can also help rebalance you. But I am afraid that is a matter for another hour. But this area we are in, it also acts upon you. Use the feelings you have here to harmonise yourself…in fact both of you should,” Theodoric answered as he stood up. “I shall leave you alone in peace for a while.”

  “Harmonise…I do not understand,” Paul remarked as Alisha shook her head likewise.

  “Oh you will. In time you will,” Theodoric smiled and then instantly turned away and stepped out through the doorway.

  “I have absolutely no idea what he is saying,” Paul remarked tiredly as he looked at Alisha.

  “I have been terrified these past few days for you. I do not think I have ever prayed so much in my life,” Alisha said softly and stroked her fingers down Paul’s face.

  “I have no idea what has been going on. And Theo just confuses me more with his part riddles.”

  “Riddles?”

  “Well, not exactly riddles. But comments that allude to something more…and I do not seem to grasp what. I think he thinks me more than I am.”

  “Oh no, I think he knows exactly just what kind of a man you are,” Alisha commented and placed both her hands upon his face and pulled him to look directly at her.” And you…you are my man. Do you understand that?” she stated and then kissed him gently. Her eyes sparkled and Paul shook his head slightly still amazed that she loved him the way she did. “Now rest. I shall be back shortly with Arri…and some herbs for your breath. You stink!” she smiled and stood up.

  Paul watched her as she turned her back to him to step down from the caravan. Her figure had already returned to her former slender form she had before she fell pregnant. Not remaining fat as Taqi had frequently joked on many an occasion. She turned to look at him briefly, smiled and stepped out and away from view. Paul closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him and pondered upon Theodoric’s words. He placed his hand upon the sword again and within moments was asleep.

  As Paul slept, his mind was racing with images from many different past dreams merging and overlapping at once. He could hear a little boy calling out ‘Father’ but he could also see and sense all the emotions from the vivid dream of seeing the wall of water smashing across the land. He could again see the beautiful woman standing next to the tall white haired man looking at him. Again he could hear words from the man but as if they were washing over him like warm water. ‘Remember me’ he heard him say over and over again. As the wall of total death and destruction was almost upon him and the ground seemed to vibrate and fall away beneath him, only then did his eyes lock onto the beautiful woman. In that instant, and unlike in the previous times when he had dreamt this, her eyes widened and there came the sudden realisation and recognition that this woman was in fact Alisha. She looked physically slightly different, but her eyes were now clear and the sensation from her was Alisha. ‘Come Ailia’ the white haired man said quietly but still audible above the noise just as before. ‘Father’ Paul heard the little boy call out just as his senses were overwhelmed.

  “Ailia!” Paul called out loudly and sat up straight covered in sweat. Panting heavily he clutched at his chest and blinked to clear his vision. As he looked up he saw Balian, dressed in his full armour, stood at the end of the bed looking down at him. He just raised his eyebrows. “Where is Alisha?”

  “Your son is a hungry feeder. I came to watch over you. To make sure you are okay,” Balian replied and slightly bowed his head, his helmet held beneath his left arm.

  Confused and tired Paul sat himself up. At least he could do that easier he thought as he rubbed his eyes.

  “Sorry if I woke you,” Balian said as he placed his helmet down, moved his sword aside so he was able to sit on the small clothes trunk near to him and just looked at him for a few moments in silence.

  “I am beginning to feel that I am some kind of freak show. Has my hair turned blue or something?” Paul asked, feeling uncomfortable with the look Balian was giving him.

  “Sorry, Paul. Do not worry yourself at my lack of manners for I do not mean to stare. I am just utterly puzzled how you managed to kill The Bull,” Balian explained politely.

  “The Bull? With this of course!” Paul answered and lifted his sword. Despite it being a two handed sword, he was able to raise it completely with just his right hand alone. Paul saw the look in Balian’s eyes at the somewhat surprising feat of apparent strength, despite Paul’s thin un-muscled arm. Paul let the sword fall back upon the bed.

  “Paul, the man you killed, known to many as The Bull as you are aware, was a very skilled former knight. He and his former Malatya Danishmends were much feared bandits in all in this region. The Bull himself, as I have said already, was an unbeaten champion. But as a knight, he became greedy for power and more wealth. Strangely enough, it was actually Reynald who had him banished as he was too unruly for him to control. They wanted to cut off his right hand as punishment for many wrong doings against pilgrims…but as he and many of his men had fought hard for the Crusader cause, he was spared that punishment and banished instead. But he had vowed that he would repay Reynald tenfold. That is why he constantly attacked pilgrim caravans. It is my opinion that they knew his wife, the Princess, was in our convoy and why they risked such an assault�
��an assault that would have been successful but for you.”

  “How so say you that? I was just defending my family,” Paul asked puzzled.

  “Paul…was it not you who shouted the warning when you discovered them? Was it not you who destroyed their assault by killing their undefeated leader?” Balian explained and paused. “Now ask yourself again why I say so. Word of your deed has already been shot ahead by riders in all directions. Like it or not, my friend, your fame already travels ahead of you. And as is the way, there will be those who will wish to challenge you as a consequence…to prove their own pitiful worth. And that is why I am here. To discuss how best you may wish to proceed,” Balian explained calmly, his voice gentle for such a big man.

  “I shall deny it was me. Simple. I do not wish to ever repeat that event. For the protection of my family, I have no problem whatsoever in lying if needs must,” Paul replied, anxious at hearing what Balian had said.

  “Paul, lying is not in you. That much I already know. And as I learnt, the hard way, if you tell the truth, it becomes a part of your past. But if you lie, it becomes a part of your future. You will forever have to be on your guard lest you slip up upon the lie!”

  “Then what do I do?” Paul asked and immediately recalled Theodoric’s earlier advice about listening to his own inner voice. “Go to Alexandria… as quickly as possible. That is what we shall do. Once there I can hide away this,” Paul remarked as he looked at the sword.

  “That is a pity. For we have great need of men like you in Outremer. More so now than ever before,” Balian stated but nodded he understood him.

  Paul saw the look of disappointment upon his face. He also took in his comment that he had said ‘men like you’. It was the first time anyone had actually said or referred to him as a man. Not simply as ‘young Paul’ or ‘child’.

  “You must be hungry. I shall have some food sent over. I have a feeling we shall talk more,” Balian said as he stood up, picked up his helmet and bowed courteously at Paul. “Good day to you.”