East of Ashes (9 page)

"Does that mean...?" he stammered as he reached out his hands to her. Leala took them and allowed him to pull her closer.

"Yes, silly," she beamed, blinded by tears of joy.

Joash reached out with his one hand to cup her face, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"But..." he whispered, "I thought..."

Then, unable to hold himself back any longer, he pulled her close and kissed her softly.

Joash drank her in as she put her arms around his neck. It felt like he was drowning in the smell of her, the taste of her. His mind eased into silence as he was lost in the embrace, swimming in soft folds of pure bliss.

Outside the door, Lamech guessed what had happened. He bit down on his fist to keep himself from screaming in fury. Fighting the anger with every single part of his being, he struggled to clear his head from rolling thunder clouds.

I'll have to put an end to this right now, he thought brutally. But how?

His brain worked overtime, analysing every possible scenario. It was difficult to focus properly through the fury enveloping him, but he forced himself to shut it out and think.

If he killed Joash, Leala would never forgive him; much less give her heart to him. Whatever he did would have to make her run to him; not away.

Even as his murderous thoughts rolled through his mind, some faint part of him registered what he was doing and tried to steer away from it. For a brief moment a crack of light appeared, trying to spear the darkness, but Lamech willed it away.

Then, as if someone held up a sign pointing the way, the confrontation between Joash and Gaal flashed in his mind. Yes... Lamech smiled slightly in the darkness as the storm inside him gave way to a horrifying plan. All he needed was one of Joash's weapons...

His dark thoughts were interrupted by a searing scream.

 Lamech hesitated for the briefest of moments, and then jumped into action. He ran back to his room on the tip
s
of his toes, trying not to make a sound. Reaching his room, he slipped in and closed the door quietly.

He heard the balcony door swing open and Joash and Leala running down the corridor. A few steps before they reached his room, Lamech swung open his door and stepped into the corridor. Leala and Joash came to a halt next to him.

"What was that?" Leala asked, drawing up close behind Joash who looked questioningly at Lamech.

"It came from downstairs," Lamech answered, his plan suddenly taking shape and colour.

Joash and Leala both turned their heads to look towards the staircase.
There
, Lamech thought as Joash's dagger flashed in his belt.

"Let's go!" Lamech said urgently, pushing Joash towards the staircase. In the flurry of movement that ensued, he deftly slipped Joash's dagger from his belt and tucked it away in his own, rearranging his clothing to hide it.

Joash, unaware of what happened, ran towards the stairs, taking them three at a time as he stormed into the common room.

Sarah was standing to the side, screaming as Armand and one of Gaal's bodyguards fended of
f
black-clad, masked men with their swords. Gaal's other bodyguard lay in a pool of blood at their feet, while Gaal clambered desperately over the tables in an attempt to get away from the attackers.

Joash sprang into action and stormed towards the fight, closely followed by Lamech. Drawing their swords at the same time, they thrust them through the bellies of the closest attackers.

With his free hand, Joash instinctively reached for his dagger as Lamech slipped a short, curved blade from his belt and slashed another attacker across the throat, while pulling his sword free from his first victim.

I must have dropped it in Leala's room, Joash thought when he couldn't find his dagger. Pushing it to the back of his mind, he sprang at the next attacker.

Ducking, twirling, slashing and stabbing, Joash and Lamech cut their way through a dozen men. Lamech, blood smeared on his face, seemed to be driven by an unseen demon as he brutally hacked his opponents apart.

Joash was trying to stay with him, knowing that if one of them got flanked it would be the end of them. But Lamech was throwing himself at the attackers in a thunderclap of fury.

"The back door!" Armand shouted as the last attacker finally dropped. "Some of them could be heading to the back door! Go!"

Joash and Lamech sprinted to the back of the inn, where Leala was standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching the battle in horror.

Two men came crashing through the back door, one immediately making for Leala.

To Lamech it seemed like time slowed down to a crawl as the unfolding of events hung in the balance. Leala turned her head slowly towards the black-clad man storming towards her, sword raised as he roared with blood-lust.

Screaming, Joash hurled his sword across the room. It turned in the air twice before driving into the attacker's chest just as he reached Leala. The force of the throw knocked the man backwards, sending him crashing into the wall behind him.

He crumbled to the ground, coughed up blood once and then slumped sideways, the sword still lodged in his chest. Joash spared him no thought as he ran to Leala and embraced her tightly.

Killing the other attacker with a duck and a thrust to his midsection, Lamech turned to look at Joash's victim in astonishment. Then he looked at Joash and Leala, who had eased to the ground where they sat in a huddle, Leala's head cradled on Joash's shoulder and her arms locked tightly around his neck. Joash stroked her hair while he whispered soothing words in her ear. She nodded a few times, sobs tearing through her.

The sight ripped the bonds of jealousy in Lamech's heart apart like ashes before the wind. He stared in amazement at Joash and Leala; his eyes suddenly open to what lay before him. It was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a very long time.

Intense shame at what he had planned to do rushed through him like a tidal wave.

"I think that's the last of them," Armand said behind him, staring into the night through the open front door.

Lamech took one last look at Joash and Leala and then stumbled towards the back door. He leapt into the night, making for the stables.

As the darkness engulfed him, Joash's dagger slipped from his numb fingers and disappeared in the shadows next to the inn.

It was time to go.

CHAPTER 5

--- Arles, September 1097 ---

--- Lamech ---

Having left the inn in a desperate hurry, Lamech tore down the road on his horse with no clear destination in mind.

Sensing his master's anguish, the horse dropped its head lower as it shifted from a fast gallop into a flat out sprint. Lamech simply crouched closer to the horse, silently urging it on as his mind splintered between the past and the present.

She was so beautiful - he could at least remember that one sliver of light amongst his stormy memories. His heart would clench as if gripped by a giant fist when he laid eyes upon her, reflexively wanting to look away as her beauty cut through him and laid him bare.

And then she would spot him - and the fist around his heart would gently unfold as she smiled the smile reserved for him alone.

It didn't matter who he was, or what her station in life was. When they were together, love flowed as easily as a mountain stream. Time would slow down and colours would explode as they touched each other's faces. His eyes would be transfixed by the exquisite beauty of her mouth gently curling at the edges in a smile.

And he'd hold her in his arms, fighting back joyful tears as he felt her heart beat against his chest.

For a moment Lamech's memories drove his anguish away. But it never lasted long - as always, they exploded into a thousand jagged pieces as other, darker memories came storming to the fore.

Closing his eyes in pain as he crouched on top of the horse, he remained relatively still while his horse heaved forwards in a torrent of movement. Driven to the edge of its strength, it was beginning to breathe hard, sweat foaming on its flanks.

Lamech
imagined
her screaming - even though he
had
never actually heard it, nor witnessed the event. But he vividly remember
ed
collapsing to the ground in crumbling shock when he heard of her murder, oblivious to the mud in his face and the saliva pouring from his screaming mouth while voices from a distance tried to console him.

Then, as the horse finally slowed down to a trot, he recalled the most painful memory of them all: the events that unfolded after he caught the man responsible.

--- Joash and Leala ---

Joash was pacing up and down in Leala's room, still feeling the adrenaline burning through his veins. He let out a slow breath and then walked over to the window, peering into the darkness.

"Where did Lamech disappear to?" he wondered aloud for the umpteenth time since the fight came to an end and he had led a trembling Leala to her room.

"Stop pacing and come here," Leala said, ignoring the question.

Joash turned from the window and looked at her with a slight smile, enjoying how she could dig deep and bounce back with amazing strength.

"Please?" she added with the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Fine!" he huffed to help lighten the mood and sat down next to her on the bed. Leala got up, fetched a bowl of water and a small towel from the table and came back to sit next to him. She took his hands and began wiping the blood away.

Joash watched her for a few seconds. Then he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead against hers. They sat that way for a long time, soaking up each other's presence as Leala continued to softly wash his hands.

"I don't want to stay here," she said softly.

"I know," Joash replied. "I doubt there are more of them or that they'll attack the inn again, but I think it's better if we head back to Avignon."

She pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes.

"Who were they?" she asked.

Joash shook his head. "No idea. But I'm guessing Gaal had something to do with it. They didn't look like bandits - and besides, it's not how they work. Bandits like to ambush people, not brazenly attack an inn."

When she didn't reply, he repeated: "We can't stay here."

"What about Sarah and Armand? Will they be safe?" Leala asked.