Michael Spradlin: Orphan of Destiny

“Tristan!” Robard yelled behind me. “Move! I can shoot him!”

Sir Hugh and I spun in unison. I dove to my right and he leapt behind the wagon again. Robard’s arrow whistled through the air where Sir Hugh had stood just moments before. Was there no way to kill this man?

I glanced behind me. Two guards were shepherding the Queen Mother back into the keep, and the Captain still lay groaning on the ground. Three more guards hid behind a stone well that lay in the center of the bailey, pinned there by Robard and his bow.

We had to get out. I had no idea how many guards were on duty in the castle, but there must have been more than those assembled here. Richard the Lionheart would not leave such a small garrison protecting his mother. When word of this reached him, I knew I could add his name to a long list of enemies I was making.

I shot a glance at Sir Hugh again. He still hid behind the wagon, not eager to step out and risk Robard’s wrath. In the flickering torchlight I could see the mask of fury on his face as his eyes darted back and forth between me and Robard.

“Tristan! Hurry!” Maryam shouted. She had found a few scattered horses in the confusion and was now mounted. She held the reins of two bay mares and steered them toward Robard’s spot behind the wagon. He took a running start and leapt to the saddle, stilling the animal with his knees. Another arrow was nocked and ready in a heartbeat. Maryam waved my short sword at me. I didn’t wait for Sir Hugh to act. I turned and sprinted the few yards between us and sprang up on the back of the empty horse.

“Angel! Here!” I yelled, and we turned and spurred hurriedly toward the castle entrance. She appeared out of the darkness, barking loudly.

Sir Hugh was raving, “The gate! Close the gate!” Someone in the tower must have heard him, for I could hear the loud clank of chains and watched in horror as it began its cumbersome descent.

Maryam and Robard had nearly reached the exit, but just as they were about to ride through, two King’s Guards rushed them from each side of the closing gate, swords drawn.

I thought they would try to take out the horses, but Robard shot first, hitting one in the leg with an arrow. The man cried out, falling to the ground, and Robard’s mount nearly trampled him as he rode by. But the altercation spooked Maryam’s horse and it reared. I steered to the right of her, determined to protect her from the second guard.

Maryam fought the horse, which was now in a full rage, bucking and snorting. Angel and Robard had made it through the gate and waited outside. Robard pulled another arrow but was unsure what to do.

Maryam tried her best, but the horse would not settle. Finally she let go of the reins and jumped from its back. It skittered away, blowing and kicking.

Out of the confusion Sir Hugh charged from behind the wagon, sword raised.

“Tristan! Maryam! Get out of there!” Robard shouted.

The three King’s Guards hiding behind the well also took up the chase. The one by the door advanced on Maryam, whose back was momentarily to him. He held Sir Thomas’ battle sword.

“Maryam! Watch out!” I yelled in warning.

Maryam acted instantaneously, turning and drawing her weapons in one motion. The guard was upon her, and he swung the sword down with all his might. She crossed her daggers over her head, catching the blade and twisting the sword from his grip as I had seen her do so many times. For good measure, she kicked the man hard in the groin, and with an agonizing squeal he fell to the ground.

The gate continued toward the ground.

“Maryam, the sword!” I hollered. She scooped up Sir Thomas’ battle sword and ran through the gate. I spurred my horse right after her and had just enough room to duck beneath the gate.

“Let’s go!” said Robard. He held out his hand to Maryam, who pulled herself up onto the horse behind him.

“Wait!” I cried, sliding from the back of my horse. “Robard, give me cover!”

“What are you. .?” But he turned his horse and, standing in the stirrups, shot through the gate at the legs of someone chasing us. The arrow missed and stuck in the ground, but I heard shrieks of alarm.

Sir Hugh’s high-pitched, venomous voice commanded someone to raise the gate, but in the confusion it kept sliding downward.

“Tristan! What are you doing?” Maryam yelled at me.

The gate was made of thick oak planks. Two large beams on each side formed a groove that held it in place as it was raised and lowered. Quickly, I took the Captain’s sword and jammed the point into the groove between the door and the beam. I pulled back on the hilt with all my might and, digging my heels into the ground, snapped six inches of the steel blade off at the tip. I jammed the remaining length in the gap again, right next to the first piece. It was much more difficult to work into the groove a second time, but finally, after pushing it in as hard as I could, it held fast. I hoped it would stop the door from being raised from the inside and give us time to put distance between us and the pursuit sure to follow.

“Good idea!” said Robard. Maryam laughed.

“What are you laughing at?” I asked as I mounted my horse.

“You. How did you think to jam the door?” she asked.

“I planned it all along,” I said confidently. “Once we got out, of course.”

“You planned it,” she said in disbelief.

“Certainly.”

“Sure you did,” she replied.

There was no time to answer. With Angel in tow, we rode off into the night.

Sir Hugh was long from finished with us.

Awell-traveled road led directly from the castle into Calais. “Where to, squire?” Robard asked. His voice was strong and deep over the rushing wind and clatter of hooves. In the moonlight, Maryam clutched him tightly around the waist, her face buried in his shoulder. His relief at having her back and unhurt was evident in his tone and manner.

“Head for the docks. We need to acquire a ship or boat and cross the channel as quickly as we can,” I answered.

“Acquire?” Maryam queried, a teasing tone in her voice.

“I do not welcome another sea voyage, but we cannot walk to England. My trick with the Captain’s sword will not stay the castle door for long.” I dug my heels into the horse’s flank and pulled ahead of my friends. Angel ran before us, leading the way.

Robard and Maryam loved to make sport of my plans. It was their own fault, since they left all the thinking to me. Still, it was hard to blame them for being concerned. I had managed to get us into a number of dangerous situations. Yet, here we were, free again, at least temporarily.

Sir Hugh wasted little time. As the castle receded behind us, the sound of a loud horn cut through the darkness. We reined up and saw men atop the battlements waving torches back and forth. From the town below us, a bell sounded a few moments later and the shouts of men carried on the wind.

“What’s happening?” Maryam asked.

“I don’t know. Sir Hugh has sounded the alarm. The castle must have a way of alerting the village. If there are soldiers or Templars quartered there, we must be doubly careful!” We galloped away, and I feared our pursuers were close at hand. Had they managed to raise the gate?

Within minutes we reached the outskirts of Calais. There were few villagers about at this hour, and only the faintest trace of starlight guided our way.

“Which way?” Robard asked.

“Robard,” I said, exasperated, “we need a boat. I believe boats are kept at or near the ocean.”

“Don’t get testy with me, squire,” Robard muttered. I felt bad momentarily, but I was trying to think. Something was telling me to avoid the village.