East of Ashes (6 page)

Lamech looked at him sharply for any hint of being mocked, but then relaxed when he saw they were both sincere.

"Thank you... I appreciate that," he replied.

Breathing easier, Joash and Leala smiled as the tension in the air eased considerably.

"So tell me again why we're going to Arles?" Lamech asked.

"Why? Are you worried that we might be up to something?" Leala asked, mischief glinting in her eyes.

"Not really. I just like to know what to expect," he replied, apparently either oblivious to the humour in her voice, or choosing to ignore it.

Leala cleared her throat and then answered: "Well, you needn't worry - it's going to be as uneventful a time as you can imagine."

"I haven't seen my cousin in more than a year and we just want to do some catching up," she continued.

Joash raised his eyebrows: "Sounds like fun..."

Leala punched him on the shoulder. "You two can go and do something else!" she exclaimed.

"But I was looking forward to some gossip!" Joash teased, winking at Lamech as he kept Leala's punches at bay with his one hand. When he saw Lamech’s face, he burst out laughing.

"And clearly I'm not the only one!"

Leala stopped trying to punch Joash and looked at Lamech too. She started giggling when she saw the frown on his face.

Lamech's frown slowly disappeared as he watched them breaking into a laughing fit. His frown soon gave way to a smile of his own but it didn’t go any further. He wished he could join them, but the laughter simply wasn’t there.

After a while Joash and Leala settled down. Looking at Lamech, Joash said with a lop-sided grin: "You know what Lamech? You're OK."

Lamech's smile faded slowly, but he nodded his head slightly and then looked away.

"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, as sadness returned to his eyes.

-------

On a hilltop overlooking the outskirts of a city, a horse stood pawing restlessly at the ground. Covered in protective armour, it was chewing at its bit in a highly agitated state.

Its rider leaned down and patted his horse's neck, sending shivers through it.

"Soon, my pretty beast. Very soon."

Decked out in black armour, his master presented a towering, sinister image.

Anyone unfortunate enough to get close enough to see his face was shocked to discover that he was unnervingly good looking. But his eyes were devoid of any light.

Behind him his men sat waiting patiently. A selection of outcasts - murderers and thieves to the man - they had all joined him one by one over the past year. They provided him with the manpower he needed to complete certain tasks, given to him by rather influential people, while he gave them the opportunity to kill and pillage.

Their leader had not yet informed them of their prey, only that he had received new instructions. When the time was right, he would give them more information.

It did not serve to lessen their anticipation just yet. It did not take a genius to figure out that orders from influential people carried
their
own danger. Surviving the night
wa
s in all likelihood a foregone conclusion, but the price it required might only become clear much later.

Their leader was not unaware of their fears, but he wasn't bothered by
them
. They would follow him no matter where he led them; their fear of what he would do to them should they rebel being far greater than the fear of what they might face that night. Coupled with the lure of giving action to their murderous lusts, it made for a formidable combination.

He allowed his mind to wander back to the events of the past few days.

As always, he d
id
n't know who the orders came from. The bag of gold given to him at the time was, as before, enough motivation. Of course, his men didn't know about the gold and he had no intention of ever telling them about it. They were usually able to make off with enough loot during one of their expeditions.

These latest instructions, however, had caught him slightly off guard: kill a high-ranking official of the church - but make sure to frame someone whom the authorities would be able to track down without much fuss.

The instructions were at the same time very vague and very specific. He knew exactly
what
was expected of him, but not the
who
. When he asked as much, he was simply told that it d
id
n't matter.

Up to now he had always suspected his instructions were coming from some faction within the church, but these latest orders were quite unsettling. He had always been tasked with getting rid of certain influences that were causing the church problems - and sometimes that had called for rather comprehensive actions with quite a few voices being silenced - but this was the first time he had been called upon to act against the church itself.

Orders like that could only come from
very
high up.

While he certainly didn't mind doing what was asked of him, the waters were definitely getting deeper now. He couldn't deny that it gave him a delicious thrill.

He looked at the city embracing the river below, his hand resting on the hilt of a massive, curved sword. After a few days of investigation, he had managed to find just the voice that could be silenced. The official in question was high enough up in the church that his death would cause quite a wave within church circles, while at the same time ensuring that the authorities w
ould
have no choice but to catch the killer. If he played the framing card right, he was certain that his employers would be both shocked and deeply impressed.

The thought cut a satisfied grin across his face.

They had tracked their man, who had travelled all the way from Rome, for the past few days. Attacking and killing him on the road wouldn't have worked though, as they would have been forced to kill his bodyguards too and that would have left them without someone to frame.

So when he realised their quarry was making for Arles, he left two men to trail them while he took the rest of his men ahead to scout out the town.

Even from this great distance he could see people milling around in the streets, going about their daily business. Dogs were boisterously chasing a groceries delivery wagon, hoping to catch any scraps that might fall onto the dusty street.

A big river flowed through the middle of the town, with stone bridges gracefully arching over it. On one of the bridges a little boy sat with a fishing rod, playfully swinging his feet to and fro as he waited for a fish to come nibble on his bait.

It was a perfect location - the target was important enough for his murder to be properly investigated and the town was big enough for them to find a scapegoat.

He would send one of his men ahead to do some investigation and report back before their prey arrived. They had more than enough time to lay the trap properly.

A sinister smile curled on his face as he watched the peaceful scene. His instructions were to kill
only
one person, but he knew that very act of violence would seriously destabilise the tranquillity he beheld - if only for a while.

The prospect made him shiver with joyful anticipation. He leaned down and patted his horse's neck once more.

"Yes, very soon," he grinned.

-------

They arrived at Arles the next afternoon. Lamech had spent the remainder of their trip riding his horse next to the wagon, while Leala regaled them with one mischievous tale after the other.

Both Joash and Lamech were soon shaking their heads in disbelief.

"If anyone else told me these things, I would have called them a liar to their face," Lamech said, marvelling at the easy atmosphere that was taking shape between them.

If this is what it
’s
like to be around Leala, then I want more of it
, he thought. With each story she told, he became more certain that this was indeed the answer he was looking for. Surely the love of a beautiful, caring woman is enough to fill any hole, to blot out any crime?

Maybe winning her heart was the way to finding purpose again
.

He focussed his attention on the town that was drawing closer. In all his travels, Lamech had never seen anything like it.

A mighty river weaved lazily through on its way to the nearby coast, lined on both sides by a town that had once been held in high esteem among Roman emperors. It had also played a mighty role in the spread of early Christianity to the rest of France during the twilight years of the Roman Empire.

Although it no longer had any significant part in the politics of the world and much of the former city now lay empty after centuries of being forgotten by the world, what remained of Arles had a quiet confidence about it, exuding peace from the lofty tree boughs to the cobbled streets below.

Watching children play in the streets and people going about their daily business, Lamech felt something tug at his heart in uncomfortable ways, but he deflected it as best he could and continued to scrutinise the town.

A few inns offered good food and a warm bed for weary travellers on their way to Marseilles, which was only a few
miles
away. One of these inns belonged to Leala's cousin and her husband.

As they entered the outskirts of the former city, Lamech had difficulty keeping his spirits from disappearing into a gloomy pit. When surrounded by too many people, he instinctively pulled back into the darker parts of his being, observing the world with scepticism.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the cathedral's spire soaring up into the air as if trying to grab hold of heaven itself.
That blasted thing
i
s not helping
, Lamech thought irritably.

His mood was not lost upon Leala and Joash, who glanced at each other uncomfortably.
It had been going so well
, Joash thought.

Leala's cousin's inn lay within sight of the ancient Roman arena. Built in the first century BC, it could house 20 000 spectators during its prime. During the chaos that followed after the Roman Empire fell, it
had been
transformed into a fortress, capable of housing more than 200 dwellings.