But noon came and went and still no Dawnings appeared. In fact, no one at all appeared on the desolate road. Abdul began to grow uneasy. “They are not coming?” Imar asked, putting a voice to Abdul’s own fears.
“Nonsense,” Abdul quickly reassured him. “They must come if they have any hope of retrieving their brother. They do not know who we are, and they have no other means of contacting us other than this prearranged time and place. They will be here.”
Two more hours passed, and they began to get even more nervous about it. Abdul was particularly terrified of returning to Amir and informing him that the Dawnings had not come. Amir did not handle disappointment well.
“They are not coming,” Imar said again. It was no longer a question. It was hot, and he was tired of standing on this dusty road; and he was starting to feel more than a little foolish.
“They will be here!” Abdul insisted, unwilling to consider the alternative.
“But what if they do not come?” Imar suggested.
“They are here! Our spies saw them entering our land not two days ago. They are here. Why bother coming all this way if they did not intend to meet us and get their brother back?”
“Our forward posts could have been mistaken. One group of European dogs in armor looks much like another.” Imar was again articulating Abdul’s fears, and it was making him angry.
“They had a chest and the Dawnings’ insignia! They are here!”
“What if they were waylaid on the road, and the group that was seen was merely the victors carrying the spoils.”
“Flying the Dawnings’ banner?” Abdul was almost yelling now in his agitation.
“Of course. As a celebration of their victory, or even as a deliberate gesture to throw us off.”
“That’s enough! They will be here. Hold your tongue until then.” Abdul’s authority over Imar was only consensual and both men knew that, but Abdul frequently got his way by virtue of being bad-tempered. Nevertheless, as the day wore on, neither Abdul’s tacit authority nor his surly nature were enough to keep Imar from voicing his concerns.
“Abdul?” he asked somewhat hesitantly.
“Yes?” Abdul sighed.
“What do we do if they do not come? I mean, what is the alternate plan?” Abdul did not answer. He did not tell him there was no alternate plan. It was never even considered that the Dawnings would not appear. For the fiftieth time Abdul wished Amir were there personally. He would know what to do. He could handle every situation. And what’s more, he would know that this was not Abdul’s fault. He would see that Abdul was right where he was supposed to be, on time and ready to go.
“I wonder if the Dawnings are standing on some other deserted road this very moment, wondering why we have not kept to the agreement, wondering why we would not come for our money,” Imar grinned. “Maybe they are just lost. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”
“You think this is funny, fool?” Abdul growled angrily. “Do you know what Amir will do to us if we return empty-handed? Do you understand the penalty for failure?”
“Do not call me fool!” Imar groused. “Amir cannot possibly blame us if they do not show up.”
“Is that a chance you wish to take? Are you willing to stake your life on our leader's understanding nature?”
“Amir is not my leader. Hassan Ibn Sabbah is my leader. He is the Imam, not Amir.”
“That’s fine, but Hassan is not going to kill us because the Dawnings got lost in a foreign land!”
Imar was forced to face the reality of what Abdul was saying. “What do we do? Should we go look for them?”
“Where would we start looking?”
“Perhaps we should send men up and down the road to be sure they are not waiting nearby.”
“They are not nearby, you fool!”
“Then what do you want to do? You tell me to be serious because we might die over this, and then you do not want to do anything to fix it. And I am not a fool!”
Abdul inhaled in preparation to deliver a blistering tongue lashing. Imar braced himself, but the expected attack never came. Abdul’s attention was suddenly captured by a lone figure that appeared on the road approaching them.
The figure was strangely garbed in white and gold armor. He did not look like an English knight but was clearly not a local character. He had to be with the Dawnings’ party, Abdul concluded silently.
“You do not appear to have our money,” Abdul said menacingly as the figure came into earshot.
“Nor do you appear to have Richard Dawning,” the loan figure was trying to sound casual.
“We have him. Once payment has been made, he will be produced.”
“Hmm, that is a good plan; but it strikes me that it has a few trapdoors in it. All for me.”
“Do you want him killed now?” Abdul demanded.
William just shrugged. “There is some debate among our party as to whether you actually have him at all, and in the unlikely event that you do in fact have him, whether he is alive or not. Your appearance here empty-handed does not help those trying to make a case for you.”
“You would leave us sitting here for hours and then show up here empty-handed and test my patience? Perhaps the prisoner's severed hand would convey a sense of urgency for you?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I doubt I would recognize his hand; and once again, that does not bolster your claim that he is alive. I know my brother, and I doubt very much you could take a hand from his live body. No, I’m afraid we will have to see him in person.”
“So you are a Dawning?” The Saracen said, suddenly perking up. William cursed himself for letting that slip. He had wanted to conceal it. If they believed him to be a simple messenger, they had no leverage over him. But as a Dawning…
“We have your ransom, but we will not hand it over without our brother present,” he said, ignoring the question.
“You do not trust us?”
William stared at him for a moment, trying to think of an appropriate response. What did one say to the men that were holding a loved one for ransom when asked about their integrity? He could not think of anything appropriate. “So here is how we will do this, and this is the only way we will do business with your il—” He stopped short of overtly insulting them. “—with you. There is a meadow off the road from here about a league west. Do you know the place of which I speak?”
“There will be no changing the deal!” Abdul roared, fearful that he was losing control.
“Now don’t be silly. I’m sure this is not a personal vendetta. You are a man of business. It is the money that interests you. Surely, you can see that this location, surrounded by your men, is not a neutral location. If it is a legitimate exchange that you desire, then you will have no objection to my terms. Now, do you know the meadow of which I speak?”
“We know it, but—”
“No!” William cut him off, going on the offensive. He had to keep him off balance. “These are the only terms under which we will agree to the demands of cowardly scavengers! We will meet there. Our brother will accompany you. We will wait until sunset, then we will return to England whether you have shown yourself or not. If Richard is not with you, there will be no deal. If you do not appear by sunset, there will be no deal. If you bring more than eight men with you, there will be no deal. If we see you approaching with any more than that, there will be no deal. That is all.” William started to turn away.
“We will not do it!” The Saracen screamed.
“Then you will remain in poverty.”
“We will kill your brother!” The desperation was plain in Abdul’s voice.
William shrugged. “That is unlikely. If he is in fact alive, it would cost you a hundred thousand pounds to kill him. Therein lies the difficulty for one in your position. There is but one card to play, and once it is played the game is over.” William turned and began to walk back down the road.
“What’s to keep us from killing you right now?”
William did no
t look back as he spoke. “What would that profit you? That will not get you what you want. You are a man of business. This is not personal.” If William had known how wrong he was, he would not have been so brazen.
Abdul was in a veritable panic as he watched William walk away and imagined having to relate this to Amir. “Seize him!” he yelled to the men lying in wait along the roadside. The first notes of the battle cries from the men concealed in the rocks were just heard after William was already a good distance down the road. When he reached a certain point, he cut sharply off the road, leapt over some boulders, and was gone as suddenly as he had appeared. The Nizari pursued him, but by the time they reached the top of the boulders that veiled his escape, he was only a fading speck of a galloping rider on the plane beyond.
“Well that worked,” Imar chortled. Abdul glared at him. “He obviously knew what we were planning.”
Abdul wheeled his horse toward Alamut. “Reassemble the men. I will report what has happened.” Imar nodded mutely, knowing Abdul was riding into danger when Amir's anger was at its peak.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
“I weary of hearing the virtues of my mother espoused incessantly!” John snapped, this being a particularly sore subject for him.
“She's a strong woman, Sir John,” Anisa persisted.
“When my father was alive, all I ever heard is what a great warrior he was and what a powerful man. Will you now take up my mother’s banner? The woman who despised me so as to throw me out and deny me my inheritance?”
“That's what I was referring to. It takes a strong woman to do that to the son of Braden Dawning, particularly when she has no specific right to do so. But people still respect her decision. Even you honor it.”
“What honor? I do not honor it. But what choice did I have?”
“Ah, poor John,” she said in a tone she would use to address a child. “You were merely a hapless victim of circumstances.”
“Do not do that,” John warned dangerously. “Do not mock me.”
“Then act like a man,” Anisa said acidly. “You are a victim only because you allow it of yourself. Take charge of the situation! Take back what is rightfully yours! Take back your life!”
John was silent until something struck him. “What concern is this to you?”
“How can you ask me that?” Anisa demanded angrily. “You are my business, and I want what's best for you, even if you do not spare a thought for it.”
Ordinarily when she got angry, John immediately backed down; but he was tired this evening, and he felt particularly weary of her constant prodding and probing into affairs he felt were not her concern. “My mistake. I naturally assumed you loved me for who I am, not my station in life. I did not realize I had inadvertently picked up a social climbing whore.” He knew he had gone too far, but as was so often the case, his better judgment kicked in a moment too late.
Anisa’s dark eyes blazed. She drew herself up in preparation for her retaliation. “Actually I fell in love with the person I thought you could become. That is the person that was attractive to me.” Then in a calmer voice, “Quite frankly, I could never love such a pathetic spectacle.”
John shrunk under her derision. He wanted to yell and lash out against Anisa for saying such things, but her assessment was fair. He had made a disaster of his life. He had nothing to show for his first almost four decades of life: no wealth, no power, no accomplishments. He was in a loveless marriage, with no children. All that he had was standing in front of him denouncing his many shortcomings. Small wonder she could not love him. He could not even love himself. He suddenly felt weak in the knees and half sat, half collapsed onto a rock. He dropped his face into his hands as he could not bear to look at the woman who was staring so carelessly into his naked soul. She knew him too well. She knew his faults and his weaknesses as if she had made a careful study of his life and personality. For all the talk, the flippancy, and the bravado, at the end of the day John had no deep-seated strength to draw on. He had never sown the seeds that would sustain him in his need; and now that it was required, his soul was naked and bleeding, and he was alone.
Anisa stared at him with contempt in her eyes. Then slowly she softened and felt pity for this tortured soul that was wracked with silent sobs. For the briefest of moments, she felt guilt for using him this way. But she knew it was for the greater good and quickly dismissed those feelings.
She sighed, walked over and sat beside him, put a tender arm around him, and hugged him to her breast. He sobbed into her for a time, a weak, pathetic man. When his tears started to abate, she opened her robe near his face enough to tantalize him. John did not immediately respond. She gently lifted his chin to face her and kissed him, softly at first. When he began to return it, she added passion to her kiss, almost violence. She would restore his confidence by making him feel he was a great lover and seal him to her that much more assuredly. As she surrendered to his embrace, she knew that he was hers to do with as she pleased. Men were so easily manipulated. She smiled slightly to herself at the overwhelming sense of power she felt even while pretending to succumb to him.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
“Are you prepared, Sir David?” Spencer asked as he slipped into the clearing in which David was making his final preparations.
David looked up and grinned. “Lightning courses through my veins, and there is thunder in my sword arm. I am indestructible today.”
“Do you understand the aim clearly?” Spencer asked with a nervous expression.
“I understand,” David assured him. “Why do you fret so?”
Spencer grunted. “Am I so obvious, then?”
“Sir Spencer,” David grinned, “you are without guile. Now, what concerns you?”
“This plan... there is far too much that can go wrong. If we are seen, if we are late, if we are early, if the Moors do something unexpected, if—”
David held up a hand to forestall him. “I believe I understand the gist of your concerns. Please stop before I lose my nerve all together.”
“You do jest, but what is to become of us? Are we to throw our lives upon the altar of chivalry for the small chance that we can rescue a fellow countryman?”
David looked around to be sure no one else was within earshot, took Spencer by the arm, and led him deeper into the forest to be sure they were not overheard. “What are you saying? Where is your honor?”
Spencer looked very uncomfortable. “Of course, I only venture to share these thoughts with you as I know you must harbor similar sentiments after William Dawning humiliated you.”
David sighed and sat back on a fallen tree. “Sir Spencer, I understand there is great danger in this endeavor; but we are men of honor. We do not pick our battles based on the probability of success; we choose our battles based upon right and wrong.”
“You are correct, of course. It is only—” He stopped and looked away.
“It is only what, Sir Knight?” David prodded. “Speak plainly now. Fear no reproach from me.”
Spencer looked at him for a long moment, gauging whether he could trust him. And as people so often did with David, he continued, “As we have ridden through these unfamiliar territories, I have been impressed by how much life I have yet to live. I have not yet found a wife, there is much of the world that I have yet to explore, and for the first time, I feel—” He stopped again.
“Fear?” David asked simply. Spencer recoiled at the word.
“Regret. Regret for having willingly offered my life with so little consideration.”
“Ah, your spirit was willing, but your flesh grows weak, eh?” David chuckled. Spencer stiffened at the remark.
“Sir Spencer, there is nothing to be ashamed of. I have a little girl at home that I love above all else in this world; but I do not regret being here. Your willingness to volunteer only betokens a noble heart and brave spirit. Anything we may feel later is our brain telling us our noble heart and brave spirit are going to get us killed.” David grinned at him agai
n.
“Are you ready to make such a sacrifice for the Dawnings then? Do you not carry enough animosity for them to make the exchange of your life for a Dawning seem an obscenity? You have a family to raise. These Dawnings have none of that.”
David was quiet for a long time. The words of his final conversation with his mother echoed in his head. What if this was the end? Was he ready to die? A great ball of ice formed in the pit of his stomach. There was more to his mother's words than he had been willing to admit even to himself. He pushed those thoughts away and stood to face Spencer. “We are here because it is right, not because it is safe. We are sworn to the Dawnings, and we give what is needed without counting the cost. It is not our place to weigh our lives in the balance against anyone else. If we all did that, there would be no such thing as valor, only base, cravenly self-preservation.” He put his hand on Spencer's shoulder. “It is fine to be scared, as long as we still do what is required of us when the time comes. I will be there when I am needed, and I know I will see you there too. That same heart that made you stand up to be counted with the other men out here today would never allow you to flee before the job was done.”
“Well, of course, I would never even consider flight!” Spencer declared, but a look of relief passed over his face to know he was not the only one who thought of such things. He made a slight bow and turned to leave.
“Sir Spencer,” David brought him up short. “I would not worry too much. The Dawnings have a way of getting out of these scrapes. Believe me when I say that none of them should be alive today for some of the scrapes they have ridden into.”
Spencer smirked slightly. “Lightning coursing through your veins?”
The Knights Dawning (The Crusades Series) Page 39