East of Ashes (26 page)

Othniel whistled, his eyes wide.

"I know!" Lamech exclaimed, "I've never seen a sword thrown like that - it's unheard of! But he threw it with such force that it knocked the bandit right off his feet."

"I finished off the last attacker while Joash ran to Leala and took her in his arms. She was shaking and crying uncontrollably. In that moment I saw myself; what I would have done had I been present when my wife was attacked."

"It's then that I understood as clear as day that if I took Joash away from Leala, it would be as if I had torn my own wife away from me. I can't begin to explain to you how that realisation shook me."

"What did you do?" Othniel asked.

"I ran away, without saying a word. I simply fled into the night to get away from what I had almost done. To make a long story short, when my head had cleared enough to think about what I should do next, I decided to join the Crusade - and so I ended up here."

"Which brings us to the letter," Othniel ventured.

"Yes. It's the first time since that night that I've heard from either one of them."

"So what did Leala say?"

"That Joash is in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Othniel asked.

"The kind where he has been arrested and the pope himself is going to sit in on the hearings," Lamech said pointedly.

Othniel grimaced.

"Exactly. He's being accused of murdering Gaal," Lamech said, then nodded emphatically when Othniel raised his eyebrows in shock: "Yes - the very thing I had planned to do
,
happened after all."

"Before you even think about asking," Lamech said forcefully, "understand one thing very clearly: there's no way he did it. Men do uncharacteristically terrible things when pushed to the edge, but not Joash. Not after almost losing Leala. He just wouldn't have risked it, no matter how badly he disagreed with Gaal."

"Not that it really matters, I guess, but what did they disagree about?" Othniel asked.

"Gaal was sent by the pope to preach the Crusade in all the towns in southern France," Lamech answered. "Joash didn't take kindly to it.
It s
eems that he has a deep-set hatred for the Crusade. He said God is not behind it. At the time I thought he was full of hot air, just as Gaal and all other religious types were. I sided with him on the matter purely because I hated the arrogance of church officials, not because I cared one way or the other what the Lord thought about the Crusade. But now I know Joash was right. He and Leala had the kind of relationship with God that I'm only discovering now and they clearly had a much better idea of what was on the Lord's heart than I did."

"What does Leala want you to do?" Othniel asked.

"She wants me to come and testify in Joash's defence. Apparently the pope is allowing her to call witnesses."

"Not a good sign for Joash," Othniel observed.

"No, not good at all," Lamech agreed. "Still, she hopes that I might have seen or heard something that night in Arles that could help prove Joash's innocence."

"And did you?"

"No," Lamech answered dejectedly.

"So why are you returning?"

"Because the Lord wants me to. I don't yet entirely know what He's planning to do, but I know He wants me to return. Maybe He wants me to give comfort to Leala; maybe to testify to Joash's character - I don't know. But I must
go
."

"That's good enough reason for me," Othniel said, and then smiled: "The Lord will reveal what He wants you to do when the time is right; you can be sure of that."

They had continued on to St Simeon in silence for the remainder of the journey. When they finally reached it, Lamech had bid his friend goodbye and urged him to return to Antioch before the Caracen army had a chance to block all the gates.

As he had stood waiting for the ship to cast off, he watched his friend disappear in the distance. He wasn't sure he would ever see him again.

CHAPTER 13

--- Avignon, August 1098 ---

At first Joash had tried to keep track of the days, the sunlight coming through the air shaft allowing him to at least know when it was day and when it was night outside. But after a while it all blended into one continuous stream of nothingness until he had lost almost all concept of how much time had passed.

Day after day he would sit in his cell and wait for word of what would happen next. The first few weeks had been sheer mental torment as he went over and over what had happened, trying to find a glimmer of reason behind it all, but he kept on coming up empty. In the end he had to force himself to not think about it anymore for fear of it driving him insane.

But then a calmness - like what he had experienced during those first few days in prison - began to take root deep inside of him. He wasn't entirely sure when it began to creep into his soul, but somewhere along the way he had begun to find it easier to silence his tumultuous thoughts.

Leala had come to see him every day during the first few weeks, but her visits slowly tapered off until she only came once a week.

The strain on her was visible: She was still beautiful, but he could see she was being weighed down by questions. He had tried to encourage her at first, but every time he saw her it was like a blazing hot sword piercing his heart. Scraping together words of encouragement had become increasingly difficult.

When she had started coming less, he actually felt relief for a while. He knew that her reasons for coming less were not because she couldn't bear it, but rather because she saw how much it hurt him. Staying away - as painful as it must have been for her - was the only way she had left of showing him how much she loved him.

Now, when he did see her, their time together was bittersweet, but at least it was no longer only painful. Now he savoured her presence, drinking it up like a parched man. Seeing her leave was still excruciatingly painful, but he found it easier to bear.

During a visit three weeks ago, she had finally told him about the letter she had sent to Lamech. He
hadn
't
been
convinced that it would help, but he had recognised her need to try anything and had thanked her for it. He knew she was grabbing at straws and he didn't have much hope for it making any difference. But for some strange reason he couldn't stop thinking about it.

From what he had learned about Lamech during their brief time together, Joash didn't think he would even respond, let alone return from the Crusade to help. After all, it would be in his interest to let Joash be executed.

Still, even as the bitter thought flashed into his mind, Joash couldn't latch on to it. It was as if the thought was mere vapour; as if it carried very little weight, even though all the facts supported it.

But time would soon tell - one of the guards had told Joash that morning that the pope had finally arrived in Avignon. The news had been a relief - Joash knew that his tr
ia
l would be swift and his ordeal was therefore almost at an end. If the Lord was going to work a miracle to get him out of this - with or without Lamech - it would have to happen soon.

-------

The messenger
ra
n all the way to the council chambers, but had to force himself to slow down when he entered the building. He walked as fast as he could without being not
ic
ed, struggling to get his breathing under control.

He couldn't help but smile though. The information he had in his possession w
ould
most certainly cause a stir, if not change everything.

He still couldn't understand why the magistrate hadn't discovered this information in all the months that the prisoner had been in his care. Surely if he had questioned the prisoner properly he would have discovered it?

To be fair though, when he
had
discovered the thread he hadn't realised what he had
had
either. While transcribing the magistrate's report for the archives, he had found the prisoner's comments about his travels to Arles quite... interesting. Being curious by nature he had made a few discreet inquiries and discovered a gem that he was convinced His Holiness would be most pleased with.

It far outweighed anything he had been able to pass on to Rome in the months since he had been approached by the church. They had been looking for someone to keep an eye out for any information pertaining to this case that might pass through the magistrate's office and he had been more than happy to oblige for a few coins.

He hadn't been able to give the church much information though, but all of that would
soon
be forgotten. Still, he couldn't help but feel apprehension - it was one thing to supply his contact person at the cathedral with information, but quite another to come to the pope directly.

When he reached the far end of the long corridor, he paused for a moment in front of the huge doors. Behind it
,
he knew the pope and his advisers were meeting to discuss the next morning's trial.

He knew he was taking a massive risk
coming
straight to His Holiness like this, but there was very little time and he couldn't wait for the information to make its way through the usual channel. He was also pretty sure the information would make up for his presumptuous behaviour.

Still, it would not do to barge in like a madman.

The two guards watched him bemusedly while he caught his breath. When he was sure his heartbeat couldn't be heard from across the room, he turned and faced one of the guards.

"I need to speak to His Holiness. It is a matter of utmost importance."

The guard weighed him up for a moment and then answered: "Wait here."

He turned, knocked softly on the door and then entered. Just before the guard closed the door, the messenger glimpsed the pope sitting on a richly decorated chair, his advisers seated in a semi-circle in front of him. They all turned around to look at the guard, but the pope was looking straight at him.

As far as he knew, the pope didn't know him directly. Most of the time it suited him perfectly, but at this moment he wished things were different. Being turned away now - as likely as it may seem - would be a real tragedy.

But he couldn't deny that he was scared to death.

After a few seconds the guard emerged from the room and motioned for the messenger to go in. Relieved and petrified in equal measures, he swallowed hard and then shuffled inside. He bowed low and waited for the guard to close the door behind him before he straightened up again.