Kingdom Come (15 page)

Kieran nodded faintly. “Aye,” he replied. “He killed the four men who sided with me. I am the last of the peace delegation who actually wants to see this conflict end. I am the last one who can deliver the crown of thorns to Richard as Saladin’s offering of truce.  So he is trying to kill me.”

Yusef understood a great deal.  His tight expression turned somewhat sick. “I have fellow warriors who would also like to see this battle continue until the Christians are crushed,” he said quietly. “But I am not one of them.”

“I know.”

“Why would de Corlet tell your king that you are a traitor, then?”

Kieran shrugged. “I suppose to discredit me when I return to camp bearing the peace offering.  If he cannot kill me, then he would have the king believe I am a liar and a traitor. More than likely, the remainder of the peace delegation will side with him and confirm that they saw me meet with Muslims in secret. They were there also, of course, but they will not tell the king that. It will make me look as if I was doing something subversive. It will be my word against theirs.”

“But you are the king’s friend, are you not? He will not believe them.”

Kieran sighed faintly. “The only way he would believe me whole-heartedly is if you were to come with me to confirm Saladin’s peace offering. But Simon would kill you before you could reach the king. He would kill us both.”

Yusef was distressed.After several long moments of pondering a situation with good intentions that had gone horribly wrong, he finally shook his head.

“Then the only answer is for you to return home and take the crown with you,” he said. “You cannot stay here. No matter what you do, you are in danger and so is your wife.  You cannot remain.”

That was becoming increasingly clear to Kieran; he looked at Rory, who was gazing up at him with big, frightened eyes. He gave her much credit for having remained strong and silent thus far.  His focus returned to Yusef.

 “I cannot return home branded a traitor,” he said quietly.

“You are not a traitor,” Yusef insisted. “I will have a scribe take my testimony to the fact and you may take it with you. Perhaps it will clear you of these preposterous accusations when these conflicts are over.”

“Perhaps,” Kieran said, feeling despondent and empty. He’d spent three years in this place only to flee home like a criminal; it just wasn’t fair. He had been attempting to end the conflict, to save lives, but it was apparently not to be. He couldn’t get close to Richard without being killed because the king apparently believed Simon’s lies.  It was disheartening and sickening.

“God’s Blood,” he hissed, suddenly deflated and weary. “Is it possible? Is this really happening?”

“It seems to be. You must go home unless you want to die here.”

Kieran shrugged his shoulders weakly. “But what of my army? I brought eight hundred Southwell men with me. I cannot simply leave them.”

“You have no choice. Leave them or die.”

Kieran stared at him, finally emitting a heavy sigh. “There is another problem,” he said in a tone that suggested he was giving up. “I chased my charger off when you and your men attacked me. The horse is probably already to Richard’s camp by now.  The crown, and everything I own, was on that horse.”

Yusef turned into the darkness and let out a soft whistle.  From the narrow alleyway across the street where Yusef had been lying in wait, another man appeared leading a snorting charger. It took Kieran a moment to realize that it was Liberator.

“We caught your horse,” Yusef smiled at Kieran’s astonished expression. “Do you recall the man I sent after him? An Arabian was faster than a Warmblood, Christian. We have better horses than you do.”

Kieran let out a sigh of amazement and gratitude as he took Liberator in hand; the horse snapped at the unfamiliar Saracen holding him but happily nuzzled Kieran when he recognized the man’s scent. It was like watching a parent and child reunited.

“You may have better horses, but I have a smarter one,” he muttered, listening to Yusef’s low laughter. “Thank you for retrieving him.”

Rory had remained largely silent throughout the exchange. Truth was, she was overwhelmed by all of it. She simply couldn’t understand why things were turning so poorly against Kieran; all the man had wanted to do was achieve peace. But everything was against him, including his fellow knights. All he had was her, the crown, his horse and a Muslim ally.  He was being crushed right before her eyes… or was he?

“Kieran,” she moved forward, whispering in the dark. “You don’t have to leave. We can get to Richard and explain everything. He knows you and trusts you. He will trust you when you tell him that Simon is the real traitor.”

Kieran drew in a long, slow breath, still stroking the horse. “If I could speak with him and present him with the crown, I am confident that he would believe me,” he turned to look at her in the darkness. “But Yusef is correct; Simon and the others will try to kill me at every turn. Moreover, I have you to worry about, and I cannot allow you to come to harm.”

She gazed up at him, her hazel eyes glimmering in the weak moonlight. “And if I weren’t here? If I didn’t even fit into this equation, what would you do?”

He thought briefly. “Do everything in my power to return to the king.  This peace offering is too important not to do everything I can to see it through.”

“Then why stop trying just because of me?” she insisted passionately. “I can’t be the reason you didn’t even try. You would grow to resent me and I can’t let that happen.”

“If I were to go to the king, I cannot take you with me. Do you understand that?”

“Of course I do. Who says I can’t stay here, maybe with Kaleef? Or maybe Yusef can take me somewhere safe to wait this out.” She suddenly put her hands on his face, pulling him down to her level. She kissed him tenderly. “Kieran, we’ve been returned to finish what you started eight hundred years ago. I know there have been a lot of obstacles thrown up, but you can’t let that stop you. You have to finish this; you know you do. That’s the entire reason why we’re here.”

He kissed her in return, sweetly, tasting her.  “I will not leave you behind. I will not be separated from you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kieran, listen to me,” she whispered. “I will be safe. I’ll stay here in Nahariya and wait for you to come back. You don’t have to worry about me.  But you absolutely need to go to the king and straighten all of this out.”

“Do not listen to her, my friend,” Yusef grabbed Kieran by the arm, partially dislodging Rory from his embrace. “She speaks as a woman does, with soft thoughts and feelings. You must think like a warrior; you know that it is best for you to return home. Let time and separation heal this rift and let your innocence be proven in the years to come. The peace quest upon these sands has come to an end. If you stay here, you will die.”

Kieran gazed steadily at Yusef, watching the man nod as if to reaffirm his statement. After a moment, Kieran nodded shortly and returned his attention to Rory. There was something painful and sad in his expression.

“He is correct,” he murmured. “I cannot continue this quest, as much as I would like to and clear my name. Too much is working against me at the moment. I believe that I have no choice.”

Rory gazed up at him, feeling hollow and defeated. She also felt some anger and frustration and she pulled away, her gaze moving between Kieran and Yusef. They seemed so resigned to accept the quick end but she understood why. She didn’t want Kieran to die, either.  Maybe they knew best and she should simply accept it. She jabbed a finger at the Saracen.

“You did this to him,” she hissed. “Your people called that secret meeting and handed over the crown. Didn’t you stop to think what would happen if things went wrong? Why didn’t you just do it in the open and present it to Richard in person? Why all of the secrecy?”

Yusef wasn’t particularly fond of women who did not know their place in the world but out of respect to Kieran, he kept his head. That and the fact that Kieran was twice his size. He kept a civil tongue as he replied.

“Lady Hage,” he began. “We contacted your husband because out of all of the Christian knights we had heard tale of, he was the one with the most honest reputation. He was not here for glory or riches. He was here because his king asked it of him and because he was a fair and virtuous man.  Had we known Sir Kieran would be branded a traitor for attempting to gain peace, we would not have made the effort to contact him.”

Rory was feeling ill more now that anger or frustration; all she could see was Kieran, defeated and branded a traitor. It just wasn’t fair. “Look what you did to him,” she was verging on tears. “Now his friends want to kill him.”

“I can only apologize.”

“You can do that and then you can help us get out of here.”

“I will, I swear it. I will not let you or your husband die if I can help it.”

She gazed at him a moment before replying in a deliberate tone. “He’s not my husband,” she said softly. “He told that lie to make it easier for me. We’re not married but we want to be. You can help us with that, too.”

Yusef looked at Kieran for a moment, holding back his initial shock, and then back to Rory. He smiled, his white teeth evident in the moonlight.

“That,” he said, “would be my pleasure.”

***

The next evening

Yusef found old Kaleef cowering in an alley near his burned-out home, terrified, where he had been hiding for over two days. Unable to simply walk away and leave the old man destitute, Yuself intended to return with him to El Hajidd’s encampment, a massive warrior city with thousands of Saracen warriors, reinforcements for those who were defending the massive fortified city of Acre.   It was his intention to return to camp and confer with his general now that their peace offering had gone terribly wrong. They were back to the beginning.

Yusef and his men were just outside of the city under the quarter moon.  Yusef was looking forward to a good meal and a warm bed and Kaleef was looking forward to a meal and shelter. He was still rather disoriented, a very old man who had just lost everything, and Yusef was trying to do something good by assisting him.  Allah was merciful with the compassionate.  Since Yusef and Kieran were the reason Kaleef lost his home, the young Saracen warrior was eager to make amends.

The sky was clear and cloudless this night as the group made their way out of the edge of the city. As they neared a dry wash that was the barrier between the city limits and the desert beyond, they were suddenly cut off by a large patrol of Christian knights.

Yusef immediately drew his sword, as did the others. They were not afraid of battle. In these times when Acre was under siege, Saracen and Christian alike roamed these lands and engagement was common. Yusef and his men were prepared.  Swords gleamed wickedly beneath the quarter moon as the ancient combatants prepared for a fight.

Before the heat could start, however, one of the Christian knights held up a gloved hand with a shout.

“
Se tenir en bas vos armes
!” he cried. “
Nous ne sommes pas ici de combattre
!”

Yusef didn’t lower his sword; he kept it level and replied to them in French. “What do you want?”

The knight with his hand raised moved forward slightly; Yusef did not recognize the armor, as so many Christians were identified by the style and type of armor they wore. This one was English but beyond that, he did not know the man. It was intimidating, potent armor that all Christians wore, hiding their face and bodies from the swords and sands of The Levant. Yusef was busy inspecting the man and his weapons when the knight spoke.