Orphan of Destiny (4 page)

“He’s finally awake,” Robard said.

“Tristan, how are you feeling?” Maryam asked.

Angel barked.

“I feel . . . Where did . . . pain?”

“Where did the pain come from?” Maryam tried to finish my sentence for me. “You were shot. By a crossbow. You lost a lot of blood. We thought we were going to lose you more than once.” Her hand tenderly pushed the hair from my eyes.

“What happened?” I asked.

“What do you remember?” Robard asked back.

“We were on the street, close to the docks. Then something punched me in the side and I looked down to see a bolt. Not much after that. The King’s Guards showed up, didn’t they?” The pain in my hip rose up and nausea overtook me. Closing my eyes and breathing deeply, I tried to settle myself.

“He should rest,” Maryam said. “It makes no difference what happened. We’re safe for now.”

I opened my eyes again and saw something pass between Robard and Maryam. He stalked away from the fire out of my line of sight. I tried to follow him with my eyes but couldn’t yet.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her quietly.

She pushed a log deeper into the fire. “He blames himself for your getting shot. He insisted we sail immediately, and now he feels foolish and selfish. I’ve told him you would never blame him, but he’s a hard one. Hardest on himself, actually. He—”

“I’m standing right here. I can hear you!” Robard exclaimed from somewhere behind me.

Finally I was able to rise up on my elbows and scoot around to sit leaning against the boulder. Angel scurried next to me and curled herself up next to my hip and went immediately to sleep. How often I envied dogs.

“Robard, don’t fret about it. We were surrounded, with pursuers all over the town. Trouble would have found us no matter where we went.”

He relaxed his stance a bit. We had traveled together long enough for me to know he would condemn himself for a long time over my wound.

“It’s my fault, squire,” he said. “If I weren’t so headstrong on the idea of getting home—”

“Robard, had you not insisted on heading straight to the docks, I would have worried something was wrong with you. Since I met you in Outremer, you’ve spoken of little else but returning to your forest. It was wrong of me to think otherwise. It’s done. I’m going to be fine, so let us speak no more of it.” He looked at me and smiled. His hair now reached his big shoulders, and his fair skin was windburned. But his blue eyes were clear and strong. When I was growing up at St. Alban’s, Brother Rupert often told me tales of the Viking hordes who swept over England many hundreds of years ago. I had no doubt Robard was their heir. He finally relaxed a little more, then rested with his bow on the ground and his arms crossed over it.

“You gave us a fright,” he said. Maryam concurred.

“You were delirious and running a horrible fever. Ranting out of your head,” she said. “For a while, I didn’t think we’d ever make the shore. But we finally landed not too far from here.”

“Where is here? Where are we?” I asked.

Robard smiled. “We’re home, Tristan. We’re in England.”

4

R
obard and Maryam recounted the events of the last two days. My memory ended at the docks, with the crossbow bolt sticking out of my hip.

“There were four of them waiting there,” Maryam said. “Sir Hugh will be furious they let us slip away. Robard wounded two of them. My daggers claimed another. The other one turned and ran.”

“We gathered you up,” Robard went on, “and found a suitable vessel, small, much like the one in Tyre, only less of a wreck. It had three oars to a side, and we cut it loose and I started rowing while Maryam tried to keep you from bleeding the boat full and sinking us on the spot.”

I winced at the thought.

“So much blood for a tiny flesh wound,” Maryam remarked.

“Tiny?” I said, agitated.

Maryam shrugged. “It wasn’t like you were shot by a longbow.”

I glared at her. Maryam’s compassion apparently had its limits.

“Didn’t they try to chase us?” I asked.

“Of course,” Maryam said. “They took two boats out right away, but I rowed and Robard discouraged them from getting too close. When we cleared the harbor and he had wounded a third man, they turned back. While you were sleeping, Robard and I kept going until we could no longer lift our arms.

“When we had a moment where it appeared no one was pursuing us, we removed the bolt. You were lucky. The guard was either a poor shot or he only sought to wound you. It was buried deep in the flesh of your hip and you lost a lot of blood. But it was not a killing blow. Robard held you down while I removed it.” She added, “It was not pleasant.”

“She means you screamed like a little gi—like a person in great pain,” Robard corrected himself as he felt the sting of Maryam’s baleful stare. “Grew up in a monastery, you say? Never heard such curse words.”

My face grew hot with embarrassment.

“Stop teasing him, Robard,” Maryam insisted. “You’re lucky
you’ve
never felt an arrow pierce your thick hide. I can assure you it hurts, although a longbow does hurt more.”

“Thank you, Maryam. . . . Robard, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stopped those Guards from capturing us,” I said.

“Most likely died,” Robard replied. Maryam and I both couldn’t help but laugh. We were all relieved to at least be temporarily free and alive.

“So you rowed us all the way to England?” I asked.

Robard and Maryam looked at each other, something passed between them and they decided to abruptly change the subject.

“Yes, well, now we’ve arrived in England and I’ve found it cold, gray and wet. Why didn’t the two of you tell me the sun never shines here?” she said.

“It does,” we both answered at once.

“Well, we’ve been here three days and all it has done is rain and grow colder by the minute,” she complained. She pulled her tunic up around her neck and scooted closer to the fire.

“Go back to the how-you-sailed-here part,” I said. “I’m not quite following.”

“I need to go on a scout,” Robard said, “and see if I can find a stand of birch where there might be some seedlings. I have a few points left and need to make some arrows.” He fussed with his wallet, counting the shafts he had left.

“All right, both of you stop. Tell me what happened,” I insisted.

Robard swallowed. Maryam was silent. Apparently it was his tale to tell.

“Nothing happened. Not really. It wasn’t a very large vessel. Three oars and a small sail.

“We tied you down in the front and rowed until we were well out into the channel. After the other boats turned back, we kept at it. You were still bleeding and crying out all the time. After a while we got tired and I thought it might be better if we raised the sail and caught the wind. We just pointed it west and hoped for the best,” Robard said.

“You hoped for the best?” I asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” he replied, suddenly interested in the maintenance of his bow.

I stared at both of them.

“What?” they both asked.

“That was your plan? Every time I come up with an idea, you two do nothing but belittle it. But when I’m lying near death, you put me in a boat and ‘point it west’ and ‘hope for the best’?” The very thought of it made my wound throb again. “My goodness! What if the wind and current carried you past England? What if you were pushed back to France? Do you even know how to
sail
?”

“Of course—we sailed all the time in Sherwood Forest,” Robard answered sarcastically. “What are you worried about? We got here, didn’t we? Sailing isn’t as hard as it seems, as long as there’s wind. Without the wind, there’s all the rowing, and that’s some work, I’ll tell you. Luckily, though, being an archer is ideally suited for rowing, as we tend to be strong in the arms. So I was able to compensate for Maryam . . . I mean when Maryam tired. . . .” Too late, Robard, my friend.

“Robard,” Maryam said quietly. “I don’t think we really want to talk about this
now,
do we?”

“Um. No. I guess not,” he replied sheepishly.

“Anyhow, it worked, didn’t it? Here we are, safe in England,” Robard said.

“Ohh,” I said. I had to lie back against the rock and close my eyes. Weakness washed over me, and I covered my face with my hands. “And the two of you have the gall to complain . . . I’m the one without plans . . . ,” I muttered. “Where in England?” I asked, sitting up again.

“What did he say?” Robard asked.

“Nothing,” Maryam said. “Tristan, tell me how you feel. Can you stand? Do you think you can walk, or ride if we can find horses? Robard says we really should be on the move. Sir Hugh will no doubt find our trail soon enough, if he hasn’t already.”

“Do we know where we are?” I asked. “Which direction we need to go?”

“West,” Maryam said.

“North,” Robard said at the same time.

“You have no idea where we are, do you?” I asked.

“Yes. We most certainly do. We are in England. And for a long time we had the cliffs of Dover in view. Then, well . . . we may have drifted a bit,” he said.

“A bit?”

“Quite a bit, perhaps—a lot, actually. The wind really catches the sail, and if you don’t get the rudder turned correctly, you end up going . . . Never mind. We’re safely home, Tristan. In England.” Robard gave me his best smile.

Maryam brought us back to reality. “Regardless of where we are, we need to get moving. Tristan, can you stand? Walk?” she asked. I had been sitting by the fire, my head in my hands, wondering how far we would have to travel to reach Rosslyn. I couldn’t really blame them, though. We were still alive.

“I’m not sure. Let me try,” I said. Standing was going to be painful, but there was no way around it. Maryam was right. It was time for us to be under way.

I put one leg under me while Robard knelt, holding my other arm. Together we stood and the pain was only slightly less than excruciating. The world spun and I feared I might pass out. “Easy,” Robard said. “Steady.”

After a moment, the pain lessened and I could stand unaided. Taking a few tentative steps back and forth, I could manage a sort of shuffling walk. But at this rate, it would take me years to reach Scotland.

“Careful,” Maryam said. “Getting shot by an arrow
hurts
.” She stared at Robard pointedly, but he refused to meet her gaze.

“Yes, it does, I’m told. But not as much as being stabbed by a Hashshashin dagger,” Robard shot back.

“We’re going to need horses,” I said, interrupting.

“You know, riding a horse . . .” Maryam let the words trail off.

“I know. It’s going to hurt even worse. But the pain will pass. We’ll never make it on foot, and I’ll only slow us up,” I said.

Robard and Maryam nodded in agreement. I decided it was a good idea to sit back down before I passed out.

“So how do we do that?” I asked. “Find horses.”

Neither of them spoke, staring at the fire, thinking.

“Do we have any idea where we are exactly? Where in England specifically?”

Robard shook his head. “I said
sailing
is not as hard as it looks.
Navigating
is an entirely different matter. We’ll just need to find the nearest town or village to find out where we are. Then we’ll see about horses. You still have money?”

I nodded. I also had Sir Thomas’ ring, but trading it for horses would leave a clear clue for Sir Hugh if he followed us here.

“Good. I’m not opposed to stealing, since this is something of an emergency, but it would be better for us if we had just one group chasing us at a time,” he remarked.

“I say we rest here tonight and leave refreshed in the morning,” Maryam suggested.

“Good idea,” I said wearily. Exhaustion and pain were enveloping me again. My hip still burned and my eyes grew heavy.

Robard stood, kicking at a few of the logs on the fire with his boot. The flames died down and he banked the coals so only a slow warm glow flowed over me. He strung his bow.

“What are you doing?” Maryam asked.

“I’m going to scout around a bit,” he said. “Keep an eye on things. You won’t see me until tomorrow morning, so don’t be alarmed. But I’ll always be nearby. If there’s trouble, give one of those Al Hashshashin war cries of yours. They’re loud enough to wake the dead. I’ll hear it and be back before you know it. Tristan, rest easy. Try not to injure yourself any further, if you don’t mind.”

Then as if he were a ghost, Robard disappeared into the night.

5

M
y eyes opened as dawn broke. Maryam slept on the other side of the fire with Angel curled next to her. It was too early to rise, I thought, and there was no sign of Robard. It wouldn’t hurt for me to rest awhile longer.

When I opened my eyes again—surely just seconds later—Robard was standing by the fire, leaning on his bow, staring at me with a giant grin on his face.

“Good morning,” he said. He surprised me and I lurched awake, straining my side. I lay back quickly with a groan.

“Don’t do that!” I exclaimed.

“What?” he asked.

“Sneak up on us!”

“Who is sneaking up?” Robard made a show of raising his bow and twisting his neck around as if an attack were coming.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I said. I braced against the boulder and lifted myself to my feet. “Did you see anything or learn where we are while you were parading about?”

“Parading? I most definitely was not! Perhaps scouting, but I don’t know about parading,” he said in an irritatingly cheerful tone as he knelt to warm his hands by the still-glowing coals.

“Please, Robard, I don’t feel well, and your cheerfulness is making me irritable,” I pleaded. My head ached and my side still burned.

Robard paid no attention. “I found a village not far from here and spoke to a smith. Told him I was on my way home from the Crusades and had gotten turned around. Friendly fellow. We’re about two, maybe three days’ walk south of Dover. You, however, are probably four or five days’ walk,” he said, pointing at my wounded hip. “So Maryam and I will meet you there.” His grin told me he was joking, but I was stiff, in pain and not in the mood for comedy.