The Outcast Dove: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (32 page)

“I haven’t done a tournament in years,” Jehan said. “It’s good enough if you need to be noticed by some lord who’ll take you on. There are knights who do them just for sport. But it’s too easy to lose all you own, including your life.”

“There are priests who won’t give last rites to men who die tourneying,” Guy added.

“But you’ve both been in battle,” Berengar persisted. “Jehan, you were at the siege of Lisbon. Weren’t you given part of the treasure of the city? And the women, soldiers can take anyone they want, right?”

Jehan snorted. “Oh yes, they let the men loose for a night or two, to loot what they like and rape anything they can catch. But then the lords put a stop to it so that they can divide the spoils among themselves. In Almeria, they say nothing changed except the names of the men who get the taxes. Yes, I got a few things from Lisbon. A couple of rings, a good cloak, a handful of coins. It was enough for me to stay drunk for a month or two. No more.”

“But if it’s so awful, why did you choose this life?” Berengar asked.

“Choose?” Guy said.

“Choose?” Jehan echoed. “Who gets to choose? The land my father controlled was barely enough for my oldest brother to survive on. I suppose I could have gone into the church but I’ve no head for Latin and no interest in being a parish priest. What else could I do?”

“My father chose,” Guy said. “He picked Robert of Normandy over Henry of England. Henry defeated Robert, gave our land to one of his men and had my father hanged as a traitor. Left me with a cracked piss pot and two sisters to find husbands for.”

“Did you?” Berengar asked.

“One died,” Guy said shortly. “The other had a bastard by the count of Anjou. He married her to one of his castellans. So, unless your father has a mistress he wants disposed of, this is my only trade.”

Berengar was silent. The three men were busy loading the mule packs with the dried fruit and meat, cheese, and bread they had bought.

“The knights who come to my father’s hall never told me such things,” he said at last. “Perhaps you have simply been unfortunate.”

“‘Unfortunate’! Saint Sulpicia’s unsucked tits! Dame Fortune had plenty of help in bringing me down. I’ve been cheated, tricked, slandered, and cursed!” Jehan exploded. “What makes you think it would be any better for you? At least I can defend myself.”

“You think I can’t?” Berengar reached for the knife at his belt.

“Avoi!”
Guy nudged him.

Berengar quickly slid the knife back into its sheath. “Good afternoon, Brother James,” he said. “As you can see, we managed to get the supplies without Arnald’s help. Has he arrived yet?”

“I’m sure he’ll be ready to leave with us in the morning,” James answered.

He came over and examined the parcels.

“You did well,” he said. “Although I think the figs weren’t properly dried. There’s mold on them. Where did you buy them? I may have a word with the vendor.”

“They were on a table at the market,” Guy said. “The price was good. What’s a little mold, anyway? The cheese is full of it.”

James gave Guy a sharp look. He wondered how much of the money Guy had been given to buy food had been gambled away instead. It was too much to hope that the man had won.

“You’ll find out,” was all he said. “I’m also pleased to note that you are keeping your military skills honed. The road from here south is dangerous. Some of it is newly regained from the Saracens. Other parts are inhabited only by brigands and cutthroats.”

“We won’t be following the pilgrim road any longer?” Guy asked.

“No, we’ll take the old trade route,” James said. “In years past, when the Almoravids ruled in Andalusia, it was patrolled by both Christian and Moslem guards. But now outlaws roam freely, preying on anyone too weak to resist them.”

“Are we joining a merchant party then?” Berengar clearly expected a positive answer.

“There isn’t one going that way,” James answered.

He finished checking the provisions and stood, dusting his hands on the back of his robe. “We shall have to rely on Christ’s mercy and your strong arms,” he told them. “Until the morning, then.”

He gave them a blessing and departed.

Without another word, Jehan and Guy went to work, checking for chinks in their mail shirts, testing the sharpness of their swords and making sure that their helmets were well padded. Berengar watched them for a moment.

“He isn’t serious, is he?”

Jehan didn’t look up.

“I need something thicker to keep the links of this coif from cutting into my head,” he said. “Any ideas?”

“You could use the figs,” Guy suggested. “Put them in the folds of the cloth.”

“Not bad,” Jehan said. “It will help the helmet stick to my head as well.”

Berengar suddenly wished he hadn’t laughed at his mother when she had begged him to stay home and marry Pelfort of Foix’s daughter, who was nice enough but had a squint. He had planned to win himself a Castilian princess. Now that squint seemed positively alluring.

He set about sharpening his knife and sword.

“We may have to manage without Arnald,” Solomon told Aaron. “If he backs out of his agreement with the monks, he’ll be sent back to Toulouse in grain sacks.”

“Where is he now?” Aaron asked.

“Gone to buy himself a decent hauberk,” Solomon said. “Brother James told him he’s to stay with the other knights and leave with them at dawn. Why did you ever bring him into this? He’s going to get himself killed.”

“I didn’t make him come with us,” Aaron answered. “I shared my problems with him; we’ve been friends for years. He offered to do anything he could. He was the one who went to Brother Victor for help.”

“Avoi,”
Solomon said. “If you really need a Christian to buy Mayah back, I can play the part. I’ve done it before.”

“I don’t know.” Aaron shook his head. “It would be a risk. What if someone recognizes you?”

“Who? I know no one in Fitero.” Solomon wasn’t interested in further discussion. “Now, I’m going to the kitchen to make sure that Babylonia hasn’t had another fit and broken in to ruin our dinner. Then I told Arnald I would meet him at the tavern across from the cathedral to tell him what we’ve decided.”

“Don’t drink raw wine and start a fight, please,” Aaron said.

Solomon was about to give a quip in answer but then realized that Aaron was serious.

“I promise,” he said. “I shall have all my wits intact for the task before us.”

Arnald was sitting uncomfortably on a bench outside the tavern when Solomon arrived. The cause of his discomfort was the parcel he was sitting on.

“I was afraid I’d forget it or someone would steal it,” he explained. “Do you know how much a decent hauberk casts?”

“Yes,” Solomon said. “I just hope you got one.”

“Guy went with me,” Arnald said. “He said this was the best we’d find already made. It’s a little long, but that should be all right as long as I don’t have to dismount. And the holes are not over vital areas.”

“That sounds promising.” Solomon sat opposite him and signaled for a pitcher of thin wine. “Well, it does look as though you’ll have an adventure to keep that woman of yours enthralled with.”

“If she hasn’t found someone else by the time I get back,” Arnald muttered.

“Then you’ll impress someone else.” Solomon spoke from experience.

“The one I really want isn’t impressed by anything I do,” Arnald grumbled. “And what about Aaron? He needs me.”

The potboy brought the pitcher. Solomon sniffed it, grimaced and then poured a cup.

“Aaron will manage,” he said. “Whether you meant to or not, you agreed to go to Valencia with the monks and, if they won’t release you, you must go. There’s nothing worse than an oath-breaker.”

“I know.” Arnald sighed. “Can I have some of that wine?”

They sat in silence as they emptied the pitcher. Solomon had no more advice to give and was about to return to the widow’s home when Guy ran up to them.

“Have you seen Brother James?” he asked. “I have to find him.”

“Why?” Solomon asked. “Are you in trouble?”

He looked around Guy, expecting a pack of irate dice players to be right behind him.

“I have important news,” Guy answered. “Brother James needs to know at once.”

“He may be back at the monastery,” Arnald volunteered. “Do you want me to go with you? I was just about to add my new hauberk to my pack and put it with yours to be ready to load in the morning.”

“Well, you may be spared that,” Guy snorted. “While we were dawdling about, waiting for more funds and the end of Eastertide, it seems that a group of knights of the Temple rode in and rescued all the prisoners in Valencia.”

“What?” Arnald was dumbfounded. “But…but…we were supposed to…what about the ransom?”

“That’s the first thing I’m going to ask,” Guy said. “Come on!”

They two men left in a hurry. Solomon stayed behind to consider this news.

It might not be true. Rumors about such things were always thick as flies on fresh meat. But if it were, how would Brother James take it? Would he rejoice that the men had been saved? Then he would be free to scurry back to the protection of his monastery walls. Or would he feel a fool; a man prepared for a dramatic martyrdom and then ignored. The image gave Solomon a moment of satisfaction.

Presumably this would free Arnald to go with them to Fitero. Certainly that would be a help to Aaron.

But first he had to find someone trustworthy who could give him the truth of the matter.

After that…Solomon stopped. His ticked off the list of tasks before him: avoid having to see his father again, rescue Mayah, send Yusef and his mad servant on their way. But then what?

He had been so involved with everyone else’s problems that he had almost forgotten his own reason for being in the South. It was supposed to have been a simple trip to Almeria to get the spices his uncle had ordered from Cairo. He and Edgar had planned to see how the new regime in Andalusia felt about trade with Christians and Jews, maybe get some presents for the family. How had he been sucked into this maelstrom? And how was he to escape it?

Guy’s information made Brother James also feel as if caught in a whirlwind.

“Who told you this nonsense?” he shouted at Guy. “Some vagabond with a gaming board and dice cup?”

“Well, yes…that is, no!” Guy looked to Jehan for help. “He said he had just come from Toledo. He learned the news from a man who had seen the knights on their way back.”

“Are you sure it was the men imprisoned in Valencia?” James demanded. “They were French knights. Why would they be in Toledo?”

“I don’t know!” Guy held up his hands to fend off more questions. “I’m only reporting what I heard.”

Jehan decided it was time to rescue Guy.

“It would be easy to verify this,” he said quietly. “Send someone to the nearest consistory of the Temple. There must be one nearby. I’ll go myself. Certainly they’ll know if their knights have rescued anyone.”

“Excellent.” James turned his attention to Jehan. Guy sagged in relief. “Brother Martin, ask the porter where we can find an official of the knights of the Temple of Solomon. We will make no decisions until we know the truth.”

“But if the men have already been freed, that means we can go wherever we want, right?” Arnald asked. “I mean, you won’t need me.”

James fixed him with a glare. “Are you so eager to give up your duty? Do you think that these men were the only captives in Spain? We have been entrusted with funds to restore Christians taken by the Saracen. We will not return until that has been accomplished.”

Arnald’s heart fell. He had thought his own freedom was imminent. Now he imagined himself hunting through dark corners of Andalusian towns for enslaved Christians. It sounded like a never-ending quest. Arnald had no intention of giving the rest of his youth to good works. He had to think of a way out.

Solomon found Aaron pacing back and forth in the courtyard of the widow’s house.

“We’re so close,” he said. “I can’t stand waiting any longer. I should never have been so cautious. Once I knew where she was I should have stormed the place. Instead I made plans and sold horses to raise funds. Not exactly like the hero of a
cantos
.”

“If you really listen to those tales, you’ll note that heroes usually pay for their rashness,” Solomon told him. “If you’d gone alone you’d have been killed and Mayah lost forever. A good story, a lousy reality. Now sit down; eat some dinner. If the weather holds fair we can be outside Fitero by tomorrow night. Then what do you intend? You said you had plans.”

Aaron didn’t slow his pacing. “I thought Arnald could pose as a rich young lord who had a fancy for exotic women. He could go to the brothel and make an offer for her. With the bag of gold that Victor gave to Belide, we have enough to meet any price they might name.”

“It sounds simple enough,” Solomon admitted. “I could do it, if necessary, as long as she has the sense to pretend she doesn’t know me.”

He didn’t voice his fear that she might not know anyone. Mayah was strong, but could she survive such an ordeal and not lose her sanity? The example of Babylonia made him wonder.

Like Aaron he wouldn’t consider that Mayah might be dead.

Aaron grunted something. He was now crisscrossing the small courtyard with an energy that was wearing a path in the soft earth. Solomon moved to one side and sat down on a stool next to a lemon tree. The flowers had fallen and tiny green fruit hid among the leaves. Solomon picked one and bit into it. He quickly spit it out. The bitterness stayed on his tongue.

Suddenly Aaron stopped and faced him.

“What if she’s pregnant?” He forced the question out. “What do I do then?”

Solomon opened his mouth, then realized he had no answer. It did seem that this was something Aaron should have thought about sooner.

“I think that…” he began slowly, not sure what he would say next.

“Aaron! Aaron!” Arnald’s voice became louder as he ran though the house and into the court.