Michael Spradlin - Keeper of the Grail

I was quiet for a moment, trying to think. Perhaps Robard was right. It was time to take our leave.

We ambled back to Maryam.

“Maryam, I…we appreciate your offer, but since you seem well enough to travel, Robard and I think we will move on alone from here. Thank you though,” I said.

Maryam looked at us a moment, then smiled and laughed.

Robard grew a little hot under the collar. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. Except that you are heading directly away from Tyre now. If you got lost so easily, what makes you think you’ll be able to find it on your own?” she said.

In all the excitement, I had momentarily forgotten that Maryam had informed us that we had been traveling in the wrong direction.

Robard’s cheeks turned red. “We knew that. We were merely taking a slightly easier path since we had to carry you,” he said.

“Hmm. Really? It just looks like you might want someone to guide you there,” she said.

“What? Why do you think we need to be led anywhere?” he sputtered.

“Because if you keep going this way, you’ll run into a few regiments of Saracens,” she said.

My stomach tightened and I felt a momentary surge of panic. Saracens nearby? Patrols, yes. Small units, perhaps, but whole regiments? This far east?

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“My patrol camped with them just two days ago. If you wish to avoid them, you need to head toward the coast. Stay inland like this and you’ll be discovered for sure,” she said.

“And just what makes you think they will discover us?” Robard asked.

“Well…we did, didn’t we?” she said. From where I stood I could swear that her eyes twinkled as she said it.

Robard looked at me. His face was a mask of red. Not rage, but embarrassment. “Tristan? A moment?” He nodded for me to follow him.

We again stepped away where Maryam couldn’t overhear us.

“Do you believe her?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What if she’s telling the truth though? About the Saracens?” he said.

I just shrugged.

“Although I suppose it’s just as likely she could be deceiving us,” he said.

There was much to consider. I remembered conversations I had overheard among the knights in Acre. They spent hours discussing strategy and tactics. King Richard wished to hold the coastal cities. From there he hoped to push inland, retaking Jerusalem. He could keep his supply lines open as he moved into the interior. However, he had already lost Acre. The Saladin was likely to move toward Tyre next. It would be a logical target. So, in fact, Maryam could be telling the truth. Saracen regiments could be nearby.

“I think she’s telling the truth,” I said.

“I’m not sure I trust her,” Robard said.

“I know, but she knows this country better than us. She could be leading us into a trap, I suppose, but from what I know of Assassins they are honorable warriors. She will be honor bound to us for saving her life,” I said.

“That’s taking a big risk,” he said.

“Yes, but if there are that many Saracens nearby, then we need to get to Tyre as fast as we can to warn the Templars there.”

Although Robard wasn’t happy, he agreed. He may not have loved the King, but he still behaved like a soldier. He would do his duty. We returned to Maryam.

“We accept your offer. We will follow you to Tyre. Are you well enough to keep up?” I asked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about me,” she said, smiling.

“Very well then. Let’s get going.” I picked up the litter and removed my tunic from the poles, tossing the saplings into the underbrush.

Slipping it back on, I was tying it about my waist when Robard hissed, “Do you hear that?”

From out of the darkness came the sound of approaching hoofbeats.

Maryam and I froze. Ahead of us, Robard waved frantically, motioning us back the way we had come. With no clouds and the light of the half-moon, we could see well enough to pick our way back through the trees on the trail we’d just traveled. The sound of hoofbeats grew louder, but it was impossible to tell who might be about to ride down on us. It could be Saracens or Crusaders. We needed to make ourselves invisible.

Robard scurried back to us. “This way! Hurry,” he whispered.

We followed Robard a few paces toward a small thicket. The bushes were dense and close to the ground. It would provide good cover. We wormed our way down through them until we lay on the ground, facing the clearing we’d just left.

Before long, a group of horsemen rode into view. Saracens. I felt my heart rise to my throat. It appeared to be a single detail of ten men. They reined to a stop and the leader of the group began talking to his second in command.

We lay still, not twenty yards from where the men sat astride their horses. Maryam lay between Robard and me, studying the men intensely. Robard had managed to draw an arrow and nock it in his bow, which was on the ground in front of him. He was ready to rise and shoot in an instant.

Moving my hand to the sword at my belt I managed to silently draw it while keeping it at my side. We barely dared to breathe.

“What are they saying?” Robard asked in a quiet whisper.

“The second in command is explaining that he heard voices here,” Maryam whispered back.

“Shh!” I hissed. I wished them both quiet. This was no time for a conversation!

We watched the patrol as they talked, their horses prancing and whinnying, impatient to be under way again. After a moment, four of the men dismounted and began studying the ground. They each walked outward from the group in a different direction. I held my breath. If they discovered our tracks, they could follow them right to where we were concealed in the thicket. The half-moon was lower in the sky now as morning approached. It would make it difficult, but not impossible, to find our footprints. The men took their time, moving farther outward from the main patrol, which stayed mounted in the clearing.

I turned my head facedown into the ground so the moonlight would not reflect off my face, but still tried to keep an eye on the patrol. The four dismounted men were examining the bushes. To my dismay one of them headed straight for us. He walked slowly, looking carefully at the ground, his hand on the scimitar hanging at his belt. His eyes swept back and forth through the underbrush, and with each step he grew closer and closer to our position in the thicket.

Robard and Maryam were completely silent. The sound of my own blood thundered in my ears. In a few more seconds the Saracen would be upon us. I squeezed the hilt of my sword, certain that he must be able to hear my heart beating.

Slowly, agonizingly, he walked toward us. Then, when he was so close I could reach out and grab his ankle, I heard a low humming sound-the same sound that had awakened me as Maryam and the Assassins attacked us in the rocks. It was coming ever so softly from the satchel, which now lay on the ground beside me. I felt sickness rising in my stomach. Surely the Saracens would hear it and discover us. Robard and Maryam were still and soundless next to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maryam, and if she heard the sound, she did not acknowledge it.

The Saracen drew closer. He was standing less than a foot away from me. In our dark clothing and what little moonlight there was, we blended in well with the ground cover. I tensed, expecting to feel the thrust of a scimitar at any moment.

The Saracen stood still. From the angle now I couldn’t see his face, only his feet. Surely he must be looking directly at us. Yet he remained motionless as the seconds crept by.

At a sharp order in Arabic from his leader, the Saracen turned on his heel, returning to the clearing. After a few more minutes of talk, the men remounted and rode off.