Beloved Pilgrim (35 page)

They waited until dusk fell and the Turks who
harried them thinned out and melted away. The company of men
slipped out through the main gate and rode or walked away from the
relative safety of the walled town.

Conrad led them east by northeast toward the
first range of hills between the plain and the sea. It seemed they
were first to investigate the guides' report of a year-round spring
at the base of one hill that showed promise, its foot treed like an
oasis in the desert and the hillside lushly green in spite of the
heat. Their path intersected with a dark, muddy and narrow river,
which they continued to follow toward the base of the hills.

Once out of the walls of the town where they
had camped, they no longer were alone. They nervously eyed the line
of Turkish horsemen that appeared to be some sort of escort for all
they made no effort to attack.

When ahead they could see a town's walls,
Conrad shouted to hasten their pace and head for it.

Perhaps it was their haste to make the town
but no one saw the thin line of horsemen riding toward them from
three directions. Depending on where you rode in Conrad's party,
you could or could not tell that each of the three was a long, long
line of men, only coalescing into ranks as they neared the pilgrim
procession.

"Oh dear God," Conrad exclaimed. He searched
the nearing hillside. "There, a village. Make for it!"

On their lighter, faster horses, the Turks,
again in their thousands, caught up with the men in the rear just
before the full complement of infantry could get inside the
village. As the knights rode in through the gate of the town, the
residents were fleeing with everything they could snatch to run out
the postern gate into the gullies and hills.

The Turkish horsemen fell on the pilgrim
stragglers and with both arrows and slashing swords made short work
of them. They tore toward the village gates but checked when they
saw the thick rows of crossbowmen stationed there. The Turks peeled
off and rode back to a short distance and stopped to look back at
the village.

Panting, Elisabeth quickly turned Gauner to
face whatever assault was coming, only to see the backs of the
Turks who had pursued them. She shot looks in every direction, only
able to see through the walls of the village where no building
blocked her view. What she could see told her little. Tensely she
waited, then she finally unbuckled the helm strap under her chin
and looked about, letting a slight breeze dry her sweat-soaked
hair. The village was a tiny one. The pilgrims filled, it seemed,
every inch of ground between the buildings. They were trapped and
they knew it.

Almost unable to move in the press, she
finally saw some effort going on to organize the men and horses.
She was surprised to see several young boys involved and realized
they must be from the village. The young boys of any town, no
matter where in the world and under what circumstances, will come
out of thin air to make a coin or two. She shook her head at the
very dependability of it.

Dismounting, she whistled to one of the boys.
His head spun around and he dashed toward her. As he approached he
slowed to a stop and stood looking at her, puzzled. The silver coin
she held up before him cleared whatever mystery had halted him.

Elisabeth gestured to her horse. She mimed
tying Gauner up and getting him water and grain. Then she held the
coin up again and with her other hand put forth two fingers. The
universal language of trade did the trick. The boy smiled, his
teeth impossibly straight and white, and snatching the coin from
her hand took Gauner's reins and led him to a hitching post. He
took one puzzled glance over his shoulder. Seeing his look, she
wondered what the boy had seen that no one else seemed to? She
found herself checking her clothing and reaching up to her shorn
hair looking for the telltale evidence of her womanhood.

She went in search of her friends. She found
the mercenaries standing with Albrecht in the shade of a hut. "The
knights?" she asked her squire.

Albrecht made his short bow. "I have not seen
Alain, my lord, but the other two are over there."

She followed his pointing finger to where
Black Beast and Gerhardt were using the shade from their own
horses' bodies to stretch out. "They look like they are camped for
the night," she observed.

"Probably smart," Ranulf replied. "Who knows
when and if we will get to sleep again, and we can certainly use
it."

She was surprised to see a sort of
resignation on his face. At first she assumed he dreaded assault,
but something in his mournful eyes disclosed to her that he
expected far worse. It was not the first time Elisabeth had
realized that any or all of them might be killed on this journey.
But it struck her hard and suddenly now. She had a vision of
Maliha's tear-stained face at their parting. She had to shove down
a sob that threatened to erupt.

Ranulf seemed to sense her distress and
slapped her on the shoulder. He spoke no words to reassure her.

She cast about for a reason to walk rapidly
away. To her relief she saw Conrad's aide coming toward them. "The
Constable wants to see you all," he said to Elisabeth and her four
companions.

It was not difficult to find the commander,
though it was more than difficult to make their way to him through
the press. Elisabeth saw him just yards away and saw him look up
and catch her eye. They continued, gazes locked, until they finally
closed the distance between them. Conrad acknowledged the small
group and gestured for them to step to the door of one of the mud
huts.

Inside he came right to the point. "If we
can't get out of here, we are all dead. Whether their sheer
multitudes allow them to break through or they keep us here until
we die of hunger, thirst or heat, we are done for. I don't relish
that prospect. Friedrich has a plan, and I want you five to carry
it out." He stepped aside so that one of the infantry officers
could come forward.

They had not seen the man in the hut until
Conrad mentioned him. He was an older man, much battle scarred and
dour. They knew him, an able man who had a good hand with the
troops. They listened as he explained.

"Our best hope is to get word to Saint Gilles
and the other commanders that we are trapped here. With the
heathens all about us we cannot simply break out. A small force
could sneak out. They would have to slip out in the dark and
separate, so that at least one might get through." He grimaced.
"You will have to listen for the others' cries to know where the
path is the safest."

Ranulf laughed shortly. "By guessing where
the others have met their deaths and where no one is dead . . .
yet?"

Conrad and Friedrich answered with grim
faces.

Albrecht spoke up. "My lord, I will go, but I
do not think you need to sacrifice Elias or the mercenaries. Their
skills are too well utilized elsewhere. Cannot I take a small force
of the infantry, maybe an archer, to make it out and to the larger
village?"

Elisabeth started to protest but bit her
tongue. What Albrecht said made sense. She glanced at Ranulf, who
was looking at Thomas, who had held his crossbow up to show he was
an archer. Ranulf's look was resigned.

Conrad looked at Friedrich with one eyebrow
lifted. "That sounds sensible to me. Can you select some of your
men who are light of foot and see well in the dark?" Receiving the
officer's nod, he turned back to the five companions. "All right,
you, squire, and the crossbowman, go with Friedrich. But the rest
of you stand by. We may need to send a second party."

Outside the hut Ragnar walked up to Ranulf,
fuming. "You are just going to let Thomas walk out of here to his
death?" he demanded.

Ranulf put his hands on his hips and glared
back at the Dane. "Can you think of anyone better than Thomas to
fill the need?"

Thomas put a hand on Ragnar's shoulder and
shook his head. The Dane stared into his eyes, then turned and
stormed away.

Elisabeth hardly noticed the exchange, so
focused was she on Albrecht. "That was very brave and admirable of
you." Her voice held a tinge of sarcasm.

Albrecht stopped in his tracks and turned to
face her. "You would do the same, if I hadn't beaten you to
it."

Her jaw tight, she tried to come up with an
answer to this. Her eyes blazed at him. "I . . . I . . . ," she
stammered.

"You know I am right."

With a deep sigh, Elisabeth let her shoulders
drop. She tried to speak so no one would overhear. "I can't lose
you, Albrecht."

Albrecht's lips twitched. He pressed them
hard together. He nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You will
be all right. Now I have to go." He looked to where Thomas walked
away with Friedrich and hurried toward them.

Elisabeth looked over at the setting sun. She
could not see anything but its glow as unwanted tears obscured her
vision.

Elisabeth did not see Albrecht or Thomas
again that night. The two, along with four foot soldiers, slipped
out of a hole in the wall made by simply kicking out the sticks
that bolstered the hardened mud. They found some black garments on
a drying line between the houses and tore them into wide strips,
wound and tied them around their helms, swords, and wherever their
mail or other armor might reflect the thin light of the moon or an
enemy campfire.

Sleepless, Elisabeth and Ranulf heard the
first cry. They glanced at each other, anxiety written all over
their faces. She made the sign of the cross as Ranulf jumped to his
feet and ran off in the direction of the main gate.

She stood and walked more slowly in the same
direction. She felt chilled all over. Her knees and elbows seemed
stiff and uncooperative. Ranulf and Ragnar met her coming back when
she was no more than halfway there.

"We don't know," Ranulf anticipated her
questions.

It was then that the sound of hoof beats and
shouts reached them from down the hillside. "I can't bear it!"
Elisabeth cried, holding her head with both hands and gritting her
teeth. Ranulf put his arm around her shoulders and he and Ragnar
returned to where they had been sitting just minutes before.

They continued to hear sounds of rallying
from the Turkish camp. First shouts, then horses' hoof beats, then
more shouts and the sound of frenetic activity.

Ragnar asked, "Getting ready to attack us or
to chase the men?"

Just then a shout in German came from within
their own camp. It was the call to positions, and the three grabbed
cloaks and helms and ran to their stations. Hundreds of men
gathered in ranks as best they could in the cramped spaces between
the houses and waited.

For such a company, the quiet was eerie. All
strained to listen to what the Turks were engaged in. In a very
short while it was clear that they were going away from, not
toward, the village. Wide eyes looked out from each side of the
nosepieces of their helms as they glanced at each other, fearing to
believe, to hope.

The hubbub began to grow as the outside
sounds grew more distant. It was still hours to dawn when the
command came at last to stand down. Few slept, waiting for what the
morning would bring.

Black Beast and Gerhardt found Elisabeth with
the two mercenaries. Ragnar and the Beast bared their teeth at each
other, but Ranulf only glowered. Looking about, Gerhardt was the
one to ask, "Where's your squire?"

Elisabeth indicated the south with her head.
"Out there." She did not have to explain what she meant. They knew
instantly that she meant he was part of the mission to get
help.

"Alone?" queried the Beast.

Ranulf answered him. "No, our crossbow--en
went with him and there were four infantry on the mission as well.
Friedrich's men."

The Beast's inquiring face looked blank.

Gerhardt supplied, "The officer from Conrad's
own infantry squad."

"Uh," the big dark, bearded man grunted.

Elisabeth and Ranulf suddenly found
themselves summoned to Conrad's billet. There they found the
commander and Friedrich questioning one of the foot soldiers who
had gone out with the party. He was telling his story.

"There seemed to be few campfires but we were
not inclined to be overconfident. It was possible the Turks guessed
what the pilgrims might try and had made the way difficult. Your
squire," he nodded to Elisabeth, "split us up three different ways.
It was hard going, the ground uneven and stones strewn everywhere,
but mostly I tried to hear what was happening to the other men. You
know that the hill was steep and the way treacherous with rocks,
roots and unexpected holes. I thought I heard either Albrecht or
Thomas make a misstep but right himself. I couldn't have seen them
in the dark anyway, but I kept my eye on campfires I could see on
the plain just past the foot of the hill.

"Then all hell broke loose. I guess we
tripped a picket, because I heard my mate scuffle with someone and
then scream. I knew I was done for, so I veered off and ran like a
rabbit away from that place. I meant to find my other fellows, but
instead I found myself faced with Albrecht and the crossbowman.
They looked like they had seen a ghost. I shouted my name to them,
and they waved me to follow where they were going. When we reached
the bank of the river, we stopped.

"Albrecht said we had to find horses. I
started to look for where the Turks had tied theirs, when that
fellow, Thomas. He made a sign to wait, and took off. The squire
and me, we crouched down low to see what would happen. All at once
we heard a shout, followed by many more men shouting, and heard a
horse coming toward us at a gallop. Albrecht said, 'I wish he would
talk so we could know for sure it's him.' I didn't know what he
meant. The man on the horse reached down with his arm and Albrecht
grasped it as it came near him and swung himself up on the horse's
back behind the man. I couldn't keep up and besides where would I
sit? So I just ran off and hid. And now I'm here."