by K. M. Ashman
‘Any man would have done the same, my lord.’
‘Brother Cronin,’ said William, ‘I’m sure the king himself will want to reward you when normality returns, but in the meantime, there is a certain matter we need to clear up.’
‘I assume you refer to the package I was meant to deliver to Jerusalem?’ suggested Cronin.
‘I do. Do you know what the satchel contained?’
‘I did not at first but while I was a captive at the hands of those that stole it, they opened the satchel and burned the documents.’
‘Are you aware of anything else in the satchel?’
Cronin paused, knowing that what he was about to say would incriminate himself in the loss of the cross and he would probably face severe disciplinary action.
‘I became aware of something only after I managed to escape,’ he said eventually, ‘a golden cross the likes of which I have never seen before.’
‘And were there any other features?’
‘Yes, it was embedded with rubies.’
The prelate and the two Templar knights looked between each other. It was the cross they had been discussing only moments earlier.
‘Tell, me,’ said the Seneschal, ‘you said you was a captive yet here you are, as free as a bird. How did you escape?’
‘I was aided by my squire, my lord. He cut me loose in the night.’
‘You have no squire,’ said the Seneschal, ‘you are a sergeant, not a knight.’
‘Forgive me, my lord,’ said Cronin, ‘it was a slip of the tongue. The boy you sent with me to find a route across country to Jerusalem has designs on becoming a squire and after his exploits these past few weeks, I have come to think of him as one.’
‘So, you are talking about the Bedouin spy you saved from the gallows in Acre by using a coin you should not have had?’
Cronin paused, realising the questioning was turning hostile.
‘I am,’ he said eventually, ‘but like I have said before, it was a mistake and he is definitely no spy.’
‘A conversation for a different time,’ intervened the Grand Master. ‘What happened after you escaped?’
‘I pursued the thieves responsible and killed one but the other escaped.’
‘And it was he who had the satchel?’
‘It was, my lord. Again, I pursued him and cornered him in a brigand’s lair.’
‘Did you also put him to the sword?’
Cronin paused again, knowing the next few moments could decide his fate.
‘I did not,’ he said eventually.
‘Why not?’ asked Brother Valmont.
‘Because there had already been too much killing and he had a family to support.’
‘Did he still have the cross?’
‘He did,’ said Cronin.
‘And did you take it from him?’
‘I did not.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the women and children were kin to the boy who saved my life and I reckoned I owed him recompense.’
An audible gasp came from William as the two Templars stared in disbelief.
‘Are you saying,’ said the Seneschal, ‘that you gave up a Christian artefact to a murdering brigand just to pay off an imagined debt to a suspected spy?’
Cronin stayed silent, knowing that nothing he could say could make it sound any better.
‘That cross would ransom a king,’ said William, ‘and you are a mere sergeant. What made you put such a value on your own life?’
‘I did not do it for me,’ said Cronin, ‘but for the mother and sister of the boy who had saved my life.’
‘After you saved him in the hanging square,’ snapped the Seneschal, ‘so his actions in saving your life could be seen as just repayment for your original act?’
‘Possibly, but that did not occur to me at the time.’
‘There is no possibility about it. There was no debt to be repaid and you have gifted a holy relic to an unbeliever for no reason.’
‘My lords,’ said Cronin. ‘At the time I saw only the face of suffering. The women had been kept as captives and abused at the hands of brigands. I judged that our role as Christians was to look after the fate of innocents and as I had no other way to help, I used the only thing I had to ease their suffering.’
‘We look after Christian innocents,’ shouted the prelate, ‘not unbelievers.’
‘Are we all not the same in the sight of God?’ asked Cronin calmly.
The Prelate’s face reddened with rage but before he could respond, the Grand Master held up his hand.
‘Enough,’ he said. ‘We need to think this through. Brother Cronin, please leave us and seek food and water at the camp kitchen. Return here within the hour.’
‘Of course, my lord,’ said Cronin and left the tent.
When he had gone the Grand Master turned to the prelate.
‘Father William, please sit down and have a drink. I have never seen you in such a state.’
‘Do you not think I have good reason?’ asked the prelate. ‘The man is an imbecile.’
‘He comes highly recommended,’ said Amand, ‘and don’t forget, is solely responsible for our victory here.’
‘God is responsible,’ snapped the prelate, ‘it was he who guided his steps and indeed every man on this field of battle. Do not presume to claim it for yourselves or any other individual.’
‘Of course,’ said Amand calmly. ‘Nevertheless, we have some things to discuss and decisions to make. First of all, are you confident it is the same cross?’
‘Of course it is,’ said William. ‘There is no other like it.’
‘And is the king expecting it to be returned any time soon?’
‘All I know is that his mother wants to use it as a centrepiece in a service dedicated to Almaric next year.’
‘When?’
‘On the feast of Christ’s Mass.’
‘Over a year away,’ said Amand, walking around the tent. ‘So we have plenty of time to get it back.’
‘How do we do that? We do not even know where it is or who has it.’
‘Cronin does,’ said Amand.
‘He may know the name of the brigand, but he could be anywhere by now. Cronin would never find him before he sold it on.’
‘Did he not say that the women were the boy’s family?’
‘He did,’ said William.
‘In that case, the boy will know all the likely places where they could go and don’t forget, something of such value will not be sold easily, at least not for the sort of price the thief would expect. No, I suspect that the brigand responsible is probably still in possession and headed for the best market.’
‘And where would that be?’
‘Well certainly not east or south, as such an item would only be valued for its weight in gold but in Christian quarters it would be seen as a treasure beyond imagination and demand a far higher price.’
‘A Christian city perhaps?’ said the Seneschal.
‘Most probably.’
‘But which one,’ intervened William, ‘he could go anywhere in the Outremer.’
‘He could,’ said Amand, ‘but wherever he may be headed, I reckon the boy will be able to find out. Don’t forget he too is Bedouin and his family would have used the same trading trails for generations. He knows how his people think and I reckon if he was tasked with retrieving the cross, then he would have a very good chance of finding out where it was.’
‘So we send the boy after the brigand?’
‘Aye, we do, but if this is to work, then I think we need to send them both.’
‘A sergeant and a native boy tasked with such an important task will not be enough,’ said the Seneschal. ‘We should send someone else along with them.’
‘Who?’
‘Someone who has a penance to pay,’ said the Seneschal looking up at the Grand Master, ‘and is second to none with sword in hand.’
----
An hour later, Cronin again stood in the comma
nd tent in front of the three men. This time, Hassan stood alongside him, his face a picture of nerves and not a little fear.
‘First of all,’ said the Grand Master, ‘I would like to congratulate you both again on your contribution to this campaign. Your actions are to be commended and will not go unrewarded. Like Father William said a while ago, the king himself will want to bestow honours upon you and that will come in due course. In the meantime, we have arranged our own reward for each of you as a sign of our gratitude.’ He looked directly at the sergeant. ‘Brother Cronin,’ he continued, ‘you are of lowly stock, yet you have exhibited courage worthy of any knight. You have brought honour on the name of this order and undoubtedly saved the lives of many men. It is within my power to request a knighthood from the king and will do so at the earliest opportunity.’
Cronin’s eyes widened, and he started to say something but was cut short when the Grand Master held up his hand.
‘I have not finished,’ said Amand. ‘As you do not have the resources to sustain such a position, in recognition of your service to our order, we will award you a parcel of land anywhere you desire as long as we hold suitable assets there. Even England should you so desire. It will be big enough for you to maintain the position going forward and we will also provide a modest income for the rest of your life. Once settled, if you so wish, you may then apply to join the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon, as a brother knight, assuming of course that you have undertaken the necessary holy orders and are willing to meet the commitment. That decision will be up to you, but the offer will remain open for one year.’
He turned to Hassan.
‘You, young man, will be welcomed into our order as a squire and be trained alongside others of the same calling. When your basic training has been done, you may stay with us and be placed alongside one of the brother knights in a paid position or take your leave and serve master Cronin, whichever path he may choose.’
Both Cronin and Hassan stared in silence, shocked at the generosity. Both had been prepared to be punished but the offers were beyond their wildest dreams.
‘Well,’ asked the Seneschal, ‘are these actions agreeable to you both?’
‘Of course,’ said Cronin as Hassan nodded enthusiastically, ‘but I do not understand. Only an hour ago there was anger at my actions and now I am being rewarded. How can this be?’
‘Ah,’ said Amand, ‘the matter of the cross. Yes, we are upset at your actions and indeed, there may be severe repercussions from the king when he finds out what has happened. But that need not be for several months which gives us time to rectify the situation. To that end, the rewards we just mentioned, although made as a solemn vow, are made on one condition.’
‘And that is?’
‘You return the cross to our possession by the end of November next year.’
Cronin stared in disbelief as silence fell in the tent.
‘But how am I supposed to do that?’ he asked eventually. ‘I have no idea where it is.’
‘How you go about it is your concern,’ said the Grand Master, ‘but I suspect with the aid of your squire here, you will have a better idea than most where it could be.’
Cronin glanced at Hassan who stared blankly back, not sure what to say.
‘So,’ said the Seneschal as Cronin turned back to face the knights, ‘the rewards are generous, and we believe that bearing in mind your exploits over the past few weeks, you are more than capable of achieving the desired outcome. All we need now is to learn if you accept the quest.’
‘I’m not sure,’ stuttered Cronin, ‘even if it was possible, it would mean going back on my word with the boy’s mother and sister.’
‘We’ve thought about that,’ said Amand. ‘Once you return with the cross, the boy’s family will be granted a generous purse to settle anywhere in the Outremer. If necessary, they will also be placed under our protection providing they are near one of our castles or outposts.’
‘And Mehedi?’
‘He is a brigand and will garner no sympathy.’
‘What about support?’ asked Cronin, ‘are we to do this alone?’
‘We feel that the smaller your group, the less attention you will attract.’ He removed a ring from his finger and placed it on the table. ‘This seal carries my authority and will guarantee you aid from any Templar outpost. ‘In addition, we will furnish you with promissory notes for supplies and bribes as well as a purse of coins. If and when you find the cross, you are authorised to pay whatever the price demanded.’
‘Anything?’
‘The king’s favour is of far greater value than a cart full of gold. Do what has to be done.’
‘But…’ started Cronin.
‘This is not up for discussion,’ interrupted Amand, ‘the offer is clear. Do this and your lives change for the better.’
‘And if we fail?’
‘Then I will have no option but to declare you outlawed and will send messages throughout Christendom placing a reward on both of your heads.’
‘On what charge?’
‘Brigandry.’
‘Why?’
‘You gave the king’s cross to a Bedouin thief of your own free will. That means you stole it and theft is brigandry.’
‘So we have no choice?’
‘On the contrary, the choices are clear. There is one more thing, however. You will take someone else with you on our behalf, someone who will be our eyes and ears. He looked towards the flap of a tent as another man ducked through to join them. He was dressed in a simple brown tunic unadorned with any symbols or colours yet had the bearing of a knight. ‘This man is a brother Templar,’ continued Amand, ‘and will accompany you until the quest is over. His name is Jakelin de Mailly.’
----
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Montgisard
November 28th
AD 1177
Thomas Cronin and Hassan urged their horses and pack mules up the slope, reining them in when they reached the ridge before turning to stare back the way they had come. Far below was the plain of Montgisard, the place where only days earlier, men had died in their thousands over the perceived ownership of an ancient city.
Several columns of men could be seen in the distance heading homeward, slowed by the heavy carts bearing the wounded, yet despite their burdens, both physical and mental, everyone was just grateful that they had survived the carnage.
The plain was still littered with the corpses of horses and camels, the innocent victims of all such wars but there were far too many to burn and already the scavengers were circling, ready to feast on dead flesh for weeks, such was the bounty.
Further along the ridge, Jakelin de Mailly also stared down at the battlefield, alone with his own thoughts. He had hardly said a thing since leaving the camp and seemed keen to keep his own company.
‘Will you ever return here?’ asked Hassan to Cronin, breaking the silence.
‘Possibly,’ said the sergeant. ‘It would be good to see the monastery once it has been built and regale the monks with stories about how it came to be. But that is in God’s hands, not mine.’
‘Perhaps you will be back in England by then,’ said Hassan, ‘farming your own lands.’
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Hassan,’ said Cronin. ‘The task before us is higher than the steepest mountain. That cross could be anywhere, and we don’t even know where to start.’
‘Actually,’ said Hassan. ‘There is an old man who may be able to help. ‘
‘And who is he?’
‘I don’t recall his name, but I remember my father would always go there when he had something to sell. I believe Mehedi will go there also for the old man knows everything about such things.’
‘And where is this place?’
Before Hassan could answer, someone called out and they turned to see another rider coming up the hill, leading a packhorse loaded with provisions.
‘It’s James Hunter,’ said Cronin, ‘I wonde
r what he wants.’
A few moments later, the scout reined in his horse alongside that of the sergeant.
‘Tom Cronin,’ he said, ‘I was told I would find you out here.’
‘Our departure was supposed to be known to only a selected few,’ said Cronin. ‘How did you know where we were?’
‘I have my contacts,’ said Hunter. ‘I understand you are seeking a bejewelled cross belonging to the king?’
‘We are, though I suspect it may be a hopeless task.’
‘Then perhaps you could use another set of eyes.’
‘You wish to come with us?’
‘I don’t see why not. All my comrades are dead, and I have been granted release from service by the king in recognition of what we went through back there.’
‘But I thought you wanted to return to England?’
‘One day, perhaps,’ said Hunter. ‘In the meantime, I thought I would ride alongside you, if you will have me.’
Cronin turned to call out to Jakelin de Mailly.
‘My lord,’ he shouted, ‘this is James Hunter, the scout responsible for alerting you in Gaza. He wishes to join us.’
‘I know who he is,’ said Jakelin. ‘Why would a free man wish to risk his life in the lands of the Saracens?’
‘I feel I can be of use, my lord.’ said Hunter, ‘and besides, at this moment, I have nowhere else to go.’
De Mailly stared for a few moments before nodding and turning his horse away to head east.
‘He is a man of few words,’ said Cronin, ‘but I think that was a yes.’
‘Who is he?’ asked Hunter.
‘One of the brother knights.’
‘A Templar?
‘Aye.’
‘But why does he wear the garb of a mercenary.’
‘I know not,’ said Cronin, ‘but the road before us is long so I expect we will learn soon enough.’
‘So where does this road lead?’
‘Only God knows the eventual destination.’
‘Then that is all the more reason to have a scout.’
The two men grasped each other’s forearms in friendship before Hunter turned to Hassan.