East of Ashes (24 page)

He went back to find Othniel, who was busy lending a hand tending to the wounded, and told him where he could be found. His friend, sensing that Lamech needed some time alone to sift through his thoughts, smiled encouragingly and said he would come and find him if he needed him.

Lamech, thankful that his friend understood, left him and returned to the little house.

The former owners of the house were nowhere to be found, but Lamech set about cleaning up the mess left by looting soldiers. Even as his hands kept busy putting things back in order, some part of him cried deep inside at the futility of his actions when faced with the destruction around him.

And he knew it would not stop until Jerusalem suffered the same fate.

After he had finished tidying up most of the mess, he rolled out his bed mat in one corner of the little house and lay down. He lay there on his back for a long time, just staring up at the ceiling, lost in scrambled thought.

He alternated between thinking about the miracle he
had
experienced that morning - which
had
caused a deep burning flame of hope to roar in his heart - and thinking about the real purposes behind this Crusade.

Struggle as he may though, he couldn't get his mind to focus on one thing at a time as his subconscious continuously hammered him with thoughts of futility. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he gave himself over to it and allowed it to come bursting forth.

The real problem he faced was not one of whether he should continue on the Crusade
or not
. He now knew that no matter how much he fought in this war, atonement did not lie in any one act that he could ever do.

He had gathered enough knowledge over the years to know that what he had experienced on the wall that morning was a gift - that the Lord had already forgiven him everything he had done. It was not something that he could earn through deeds, but a gift in its purest form. All he had to do was accept the offered gift.

Previously he had scoffed at the very idea of a God that would forgive a man just like that. Surely something had to be done by his hand to atone for his deeds, to balance the scales? But now he realised that he could never pay the price required. And with that realisation he finally understood that Jesus had to pay the price on his behalf. It was a deeply humbling thought.

But even as he accepted the Lord's gift with gratitude, he had a deep longing to do something - to rectify a wrong in some way.

He couldn't explain it. He wasn't trying to justify to the Lord why He should have saved him. But he was saddened by what he saw around him, maybe for the first time ever. It wasn't even just the Crusade - he knew there was something very wrong with the world and longed to change some small part of it.

He experienced a cascade of mercy that morning and he felt like pouring it out to others. It was like he knew he was finally free, but he still lacked purpose. Now that he was free, surely it had to have been for a reason? Surely he had been freed to make a difference - to be an agent of change for the good?

He weighed up his options: if he were to continue in the war, it would mean nothing. He would only contribute to the death and destruction it left in its wake. He could always return to Europe - and deep inside him something stirred at the very thought -
but for what?
Danger, in many different ways, lay there waiting in hungry anticipation.

He smiled at the sudden realisation that some things back in Europe wouldn't cause him any aggravation though. Some things good and true
we
re to be found there. Even if he couldn't share in
them
directly, he knew that
they
would welcome him with open arms.

Even as he thought it, he felt the stirring inside again. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure, but it almost felt like something was nudging him on.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

He got up and went to the door. A soldier stood outside and handed him a scroll without saying a word. Lamech thanked him and then closed the door.

The mailbag must have been found at last
, Lamech thought as he inspected the seal on the scroll. He didn't recognise it so he broke it, curious to see who would write a letter to him. Very few people - if any - knew that he was here.

Unrolling the scroll, his eyes immediately scanned to the bottom of the letter to where the author's name would be. Cold shock shook him as he read the name.

Leala.

Questions aggressively fought for attention and he found it difficult to think. His hand holding the letter dropped limply to his side as he stood motionless for a moment. Then he looked back at the letter as if to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. He moved to the side of the room and slowly sat down.

Suddenly frantic, he began to read.

Dear Lamech

I am not sure that this letter will find you amid the chaos that must be the Crusade, but I pray that it will - and that it does so before it's too late.

I know that I would be the last person whom you would expect to hear from - and I also know that it might not be the easiest thing for you to bear.

Lamech was surprised at her insight, but then with a slight smile realised that he hadn't exactly been secretive about his intentions. Still, he immediately realised she would only have said something like this if she had
had
a very good reason, so he continued reading in earnest.

I say this because I need your help - desperately - and because I want you to know I am fully aware of what it might cost you. However, if you could see your way open in helping us, we'd be eternally grateful.

Not long after we returned from Arles, Joash was arrested on charges of murdering Gaal during that terrible evening in Arles.

Now Lamech was truly shocked. The very act that he had planned to commit had happened - and, more importantly, Joash was blamed for it just as he had intended him to
be
.

He was instantly filled with remorse, but he pushed it aside and forced himself to finish the letter first.

We both know that as much as Joash might have disagreed with Gaal that night in Arles, he would never have committed such a terrible act. However, his dagger was found covered in Gaal's blood at the scene of the crime and the authorities are convinced of his guilt.

Lamech shivered at how closely his plan seemed to have been implemented - almost as if someone had read his mind. Someone must have picked up the dagger where he
had
dropped it and used it to commit the crime.

Unnerved, he continued reading.

As you can imagine, the Church wishes to make an example of him, but the extent to which they are going is shocking. The Pope himself is coming to Avignon in August to attend a special hearing.

So confident are they of Joash's guilt that they don't even mind if I try and gather a defence for him, which is why I'm writing to you.

It is my hope that you might have heard or seen something that night at Arles that could help prove Joash's innocence. I know it's a desperate hope, not to mention a lot to ask you to return to help defend him, but please consider it. If you can help us, I pray that you will return to Europe and do so.

Thank you - may the Lord bless you and keep you, may His light shine upon you, and may He give you peace.

Leala

By the time he had finished reading the letter, his hands were trembling. As Leala revealed her desperate request the Lord had spoken deep into his heart - and he knew what he had to do.

His thoughts were interrupted again by another knock on the door. Lamech struggled to get up and moved to the door on legs that felt treacherously unstable. He took a moment to collect himself and then opened the door.

Another soldier stood there and bowed his head in respect when he saw Lamech. Taken aback, Lamech asked: "Yes?"

"The Lord Bohemond requests you join him at the city palace. He wishes to talk to you."

He couldn't care less about an audience with Bohemond, but the quiet voice inside nudged him on. He didn't know what the Lord had in mind but he could guess easily enough, he thought with a smile.

"Of course," he said to the soldier. He went back inside, strapped on his sword and then followed him.

Three blocks down the road, Othniel suddenly appeared by his side and together they walked towards the palace. Lamech looked at his friend.

"I take it you've been summoned too?" he asked.

"Naturally. Can't have you take all the glory," Othniel answered with boyish mischief in his eyes. Lamech just grinned at his friend.

"Right you are."

As they got close to the palace, they noted a number of soldiers also heading that way. Lamech recognised most of them as men who had scaled the wall with them that morning during the initial attack against the city. Lamech and Othniel joined them and made their way inside.

Upon being ushered into a big hall inside the palace, Lamech immediately saw Bohemond and the other princes standing together in a huddle. It looked like the princes were congratulating Bohemond, albeit a bit grudgingly by the looks of it. Bohemond was, of course, positively glowing.

The architect of Antioch's fall then noticed them and cried out loudly: "There they are!"

Everyone's gaze turned to the little group of soldiers, most of them smiling and nodding in approval. Bohemond strode towards them with powerful strides, his arms stretched out in welcome. He was making for Othniel and Lamech in particular. When he reached them, he rested a hand on their shoulders.

"Today's victory was naturally the will of God and we give Him thanks for it," Bohemond said, loud enough for everyone to hear him, "but He used the two of you mightily."

Lamech felt uneasy at the prince's words and noticed the same reaction in his friend.

"Come, let me introduce you to the princes leading this Crusade," Bohemond said, apparently not noticing their discomfort or, more likely, choosing to ignore it. He stretched out an arm towards the princes and Lamech and Othniel obediently walked forward.