Trail of Fate (10 page)

The man who had been beaten by the two soldiers was coming around. Maryam held a water skin to his lips and his wife dabbed at the cuts on his face with a damp cloth. The young girl and boy stood off to the side, the boy holding his small hand to his face where an ugly purplish bruise was forming around his eye. My breath caught as I thought of the little one's brave attempt to defend his father.

“Is he going to be all right?” Robard asked.

“I think he'll survive. He has some broken ribs, but those are the worst of his injuries,” Maryam said. She looked up at my bleeding arm and with her dagger cut a small piece of cloth from the hem of my tunic. Covering the wound, which was not serious, she tied it tightly.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

Robard stepped to the dead soldier and inspected his handiwork. With his small knife, he cut the coin pouch from the soldier's belt.

He knelt beside the woman, who still held her husband, and offered it to her.

“Madame, s'il vous plaît?”
he said, motioning for her to take the purse.

She looked confused and afraid. Robard lifted up her hand and placed the coins in it, closing his hand over it. He kept his hand there, nodding and smiling until the woman understood.

“Merci,”
she said.
“Merci.”
Then she started crying, which made Robard very uncomfortable. He stood up quickly and busied himself inspecting the body of the fallen soldier. With little effort, he lifted the man up and threw him over his shoulder. I had forgotten how strong he was.

“Robard, what—” Maryam stammered, but he interrupted her.

“The High Counsel is rich. She is very poor, from the looks of it. This soldier clearly has no further use for the money. I fought for my king and country. For my father. But I despise men like this High Counsel. If I could, I would take every crosslet he had, every shilling, every bit of gold, and I would find the poorest people around and make him watch while they danced away with his wealth.” Robard's face was filled with raw emotion. I had heard him say many similar things in Outremer as we walked along in the night. Now I had witnessed his principles up close, and it made me smile. Maryam was not the only one glad to have him back.

“Shall we?” he asked, nodding toward the north.

He started down the trail, carrying the dead man over his shoulder. Maryam and I followed behind and Angel raced ahead of us, running back and forth along the trail. When we were well out of the settlement, Robard disappeared in the woods and returned moments later without the dead soldier.

We walked on in silence, but there was a noticeable change in Maryam's demeanor. Her step was lighter and she floated along the trail. Robard didn't see it, as he was intent on getting to where we were going.

The trail took us higher and higher, and at last we cleared the woods along the rim of a long valley. And across the valley on a mountaintop sat a small fortress at the very tip of a high peak. It had to be the place.

Montségur.

I
wanted to push on, but Robard convinced me we should stop and rest for the night. The minute he suggested it I felt exhaustion overtake me and we found another copse of trees and bedded down for the night. We were up at first light and as we crossed the valley floor, we saw further evidence that the High Counsel and his men had been visiting. Several dwellings were destroyed, livestock had been killed, and the area was devoid of people. Celia had said Cathars often fled to the fortress when they were besieged, and I hoped they had found safety behind Montségur's walls before the High Counsel arrived.

“So, Templar, how do you plan on getting inside the castle?” Robard asked.

“I was just thinking the same thing!” Maryam blurted, smiling at him. Ever since he had rejoined us, she rarely took her eyes off him.

We had finally reached the base of the mountain after several hours of hiking over rough terrain. The fortress sat atop a tooth-shaped peak, and although the bottom was covered by trees, the summit was barren of most vegetation. It was rocky and lined with boulders and would be a difficult climb, even without the High Counsel and his men in the way.

From our vantage point, there was only one passable trail to the top, which is probably what made it such a strategic spot for a fortress. It would take an army of any size hours, if not days, to move into position to even launch an assault. It was amazing how a structure of its size could ever be built in such a place.

“Tristan?” Robard asked.

“Huh?” I replied, drawing my attention away from my study of the castle.

“The fortress? Any idea how we'll get inside?”

“None spring immediately to mind,” I tried, but I failed to keep the resignation out of my voice.

“If Celia is inside there, she's probably safe. We can always just go around and keep moving north toward home,” Robard said.

I shook my head.

“Oh no, we can't,” Maryam said with more than a trace of disgust in her voice. “He made a promise to the Frenchman.”

“Which Frenchman?” Robard asked.

“Philippe. The dead one.” She smirked.

“What? A promise? What kind of promise?” Robard asked. I thought he would be angry, but he looked at me with curiosity.

“Keep in mind . . . he was dying. I may have . . . possibly sworn an oath to him I would help her, is all,” I stammered.

“Help her how?” Robard asked.

“With her troubles with this High Counsel fellow,” I said.

“What? Are you out of your mind? Did you not see the heavily armed men he rode with? You intend to help Celia and her merry band of peasants stand against that?”
Now
he was angry.

“Yes . . . I guess,” I said. “It was an oath!”

Robard let out an exasperated sigh. “You
are
smitten with this girl!”

“What? No . . . of course not. I don't . . . she . . . I barely know her!” I said, embarrassed.

“That's right!” Maryam piped up. “He only just met her, when she tried to stab him!”

“She didn't try to stab . . . Oh, for heaven's sake.” Maryam and Robard were smiling at each other while I squirmed in discomfort. So I stormed off through the woods and found a spot where the trees cleared a little and I had a better view of the mountaintop. Smitten, indeed. What rubbish. And besides, I'd seen the way Maryam and Robard had been looking at each other since his return. They were ones to make sport of me!

I simmered in my embarrassment for a while, studying the fortress and the grounds around it, trying to focus my mind on the problem at hand. I was certain Celia was inside. However, I had no idea how to get us inside or even how to get word to her.

A few minutes later Robard joined me, and he studied the terrain surrounding Montségur.

“I find it hard to believe they can have enough men and supplies to survive a long siege,” he said.

“True enough. But the High Counsel rode with just fifty men. We also know Philippe narrowed their numbers by four and we took care of one more. Forty-odd men against those walls doesn't sound like much either. Celia said most of the time they hole up inside waiting until their attackers grow tired and leave.”

“Hmm. Do you intend to wait here until that happens? It could take days. Even weeks. By all we've seen, the High Counsel is a very determined fellow,” he said.

“No. The longer we wait, the more time Sir Hugh has to catch up. I would prefer to get inside and help Celia drive off this villain, so I know she's safe and we can be on our way.” I put my hand on the satchel. “I need to complete my mission. But I did give a dying man my promise.”

Robard nodded.

“So we need a way in,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Just then, a small squad of about twelve riders broke from the tree line near the summit and galloped toward the castle gate. We recognized the High Counsel's men immediately. From this distance it was impossible to tell if anyone manned the battlements of the castle, but the riders took no fire from the walls. They looked to be talking with someone inside. A short while later they turned their mounts and retreated from sight into the trees.

“So his eminence is definitely here,” observed Robard.

I sat down on a fallen log, tired and dejected. The situation was impossible. What good was it to endure so much to reach Celia, when she was now further away than ever?

Robard sat next to me while Maryam lounged a few yards away. Angel had curled up in her lap and fallen fast asleep. There appeared to be no way for us to sneak into the castle, something like a hidden passage or some other minor miracle. I even toyed with the idea of making a run for the castle gate across the open ground. If we were seen, the High Counsel's men would ride us down long before we reached safety. There had to be a better plan, a way to get word to Celia we were here and to open the gate when the time was right, just long enough for the three of us to slip in ahead of the High Counsel and his men.

The barest flicker of an idea took hold.

“Robard, were we to get close enough, could you shoot an arrow over the walls and into the bailey?” I asked.

Robard looked up at Montségur again and studied it before answering.

“Of course, if it's only distance you're concerned with and not accuracy. However, I've a notion there'll be swirling winds atop the mountain, which could sway the shaft,” he said.

“But you could do it?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Then the only thing we need now is to relieve three of the High Counsel's men from their horses,” I said.

“What?” Robard asked. Maryam moved Angel off her lap.

“Did I just hear you correctly?” she asked. “Horses? Are you mad?”

“No, but I am running out of time and options,” I argued.

I filled them in on my plan.

“This might be the worst plan in the entire history of plans,” Robard announced upon hearing my explanation.

“Agreed!” said Maryam.

“All right,” I said. “If it's such a bad idea and you don't wish to participate, I understand.”

I left them there and moved forward through the trees. Angel growled.

Robard shushed her. “Tristan, wait,” he pleaded.

“No time to wait. I need to help Celia get rid of the High Counsel like I promised, and then we need to get moving before Sir Hugh sends every remaining Templar regimento in the Kingdom of France after us. So unless the two of you have a better idea, we have no time to waste.”

I kept walking forward and could hear some whispered conversation between them, but shortly they followed behind me.

“So how are we going to do this?” Robard asked.

“Do what? You mean execute the worst plan in the history of plans?” I said.

“Yes. The very one.”

“First we need to get a message to Celia. I thought about trying to write her a note and attaching it to the arrow, but I have no quill. Besides, if I were in her position, I might think such a note from me is a trick. She may think the High Counsel followed us, captured me and is torturing me so he can deceive her.”

We kept climbing ever upward toward the mountaintop, now moving more carefully in case the High Counsel had pickets posted in the area. We needed to remain silent, but now and then Robard and Maryam took the opportunity to whisper numerous reasons why my plan was full of holes. As if I didn't know it already. I ignored them and concentrated on getting us within an arrow's distance of the fortress without being seen. Caution slowed us down, and the steep incline of the mountain made it even more difficult.

After about an hour of deliberate movement, we reached a spot where the tree line faded and the ground cleared to rock. We looked about for any sign of the High Counsel and his men but saw none. Surely they had the castle under watch, but my guess was they stayed to the woods to keep out of the wind and remaining light.

I took a closer look at the castle. There was a large wooden gate facing southwest. It was the only way in. On the one hand, we were lucky there was no moat or drawbridge to cross. On the other hand, I was concerned my plan may not work at all. For Robard to send an arrow into the castle from here would require a miraculous shot. He would not only have to factor in the distance of at least three hundred yards, but he would also have to shoot up at an odd angle. It looked unlikely, if not impossible.

“It's not going to work,” Maryam said. “If we leave the safety of the trees, we'll be spotted for sure. And there's no way Robard can make the shot from here. We're going to have . . .”

“What makes you think I can't make the shot, Assassin?” Robard cut in.

Maryam winked at me.

“Robard, I know you have great skill as an archer, but look at the angle. It's not your fault. It is just impossible. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Robard, Maryam might be right,” I said.

“What? You too?” Robard looked at us both. “I could make this shot in my sleep. In fact, Assassin, I'll make a friendly wager. I make the shot and you hand over one of those fancy daggers of yours. If I miss, you can keep my longbow.”

I gasped. Maryam was trying to goad Robard into doing what I wanted him to do, but as always, Robard took things a step too far. I had no wish for his foolish pride to get in the way.

“Robard . . . really, it's not necessary. I'll think of some other—” I stumbled over the words.

“Done,” said Maryam.

I looked at her with eyes wide.