Trail of Fate (22 page)

“Welcome to Calais,” said the Captain of the Guard. “Step lively now.”

My head still throbbed as we climbed out of the cage, but it was almost delightful to no longer be jounced around. Two guards took me by the arms, others followed suit for Maryam and Robard, and with the Captain at the head of our small column, we were led into the castle keep. They led us down a long, dimly lit hall and into a large room, brightly decorated with red carpets and brilliantly colored tapestries hanging on the walls. At the end of the room was a large wooden chair raised on a platform. Behind the chair was a beautiful purple velvet screen.

The chair was occupied by a commanding-looking woman. Her long, dark brown hair was splashed with gray, and the lines on her face said she'd spent much time in the sun and wind. But her eyes were dark and lively, and they glowed when she saw us. She looked us over as we approached, her gaze finally settling on me.

We were led all the way across the room until we were only a few feet from the chair.

“Kneel before the Queen Mother,” the Captain commanded.

The Queen Mother? Eleanor of Aquitaine? I had heard stories of her. She was King Henry's queen and Richard the Lionheart's mother. What was she doing here, and more important, why were the three of us being brought before her?

We stood as still as statues, unsure what to do.

“I said kneel!” the Captain commanded. The calm demeanor he had exhibited in the woods was gone. Being around the Queen Mother made him more forceful, and there was a tinge of cruelty in his tone. Our guards kicked at the backs of our knees, forcing us to the ground.

Queen Eleanor stood silently from her chair, studying us intently. Then she spoke.

“Sir Hugh? Are these the three?” Sir Hugh stepped around the velvet screen and stood next to but slightly behind her. He smiled his serpent's smile when he saw me. I was surprised, but not shocked, to find him here. No matter where I went, he kept turning up.

“The very same, my lady,” he said.

Eleanor of Aquitaine nodded slightly, and the corners of her mouth moved upward just a tick. She stepped down from the platform to look carefully at Robard, then Maryam, until finally she stood directly in front of me. She was a small woman and used the platform to make herself more imposing. Bending over until her face was inches from my own, she appeared to memorize my every feature.

“Delicious,” she said with a wicked smile. “Delicious.”

Q
ueen Eleanor turned her back to me and stepped up onto the platform, settling on her throne. Sir Hugh had a look of vast relief on his face. He had lost us at Montségur and by his own clumsy efforts had been unable to find us again. I wondered, though, why he had aligned himself with the Queen Mother.

“From what Sir Hugh tells me, you're a slippery one, young squire,” she said as she stared at me. Instinct told me she wasn't on my side, but I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Forgive me, your highness, but I'm not sure what you mean,” I told her.

To my surprise, Eleanor threw back her head and laughed. Or cackled rather. It was unsettling to say the least.

“Please, boy. Do you pretend ignorance of your circumstances?” she said.

“I have many circumstances, my lady. Which one are you referring to?”

Sir Hugh started toward me with his fist raised. “You'll not take such a tone with the Queen Mother, boy!” But Eleanor held out her hand, touching him gently on the arm before he reached me.

“Not now, Hugh,” she said. Sir Hugh stepped back to his place behind her and sulked.

“I'm referring to the circumstances of your birth,” she said.

“If you mean I am an orphan, yes, I'm well aware of it,” I said.

“An orphan?” She looked at me quizzically, then threw her head back and laughed again. “An orphan. Oh, how rich this is. Even better than I thought!”

I was at a loss. She appeared more than a little crazy. Sitting up in her chair, her feet twitched nervously beneath the long beaded gown she wore.

“What do you want with us?” Robard demanded, having grown weary of Eleanor's theatrics.

She paused in her study of me to turn her attention to Robard.

“Such impertinence,” she said. “Do you know who I am?”

Robard gave her an unfriendly smile and bowed slightly. “Of course I do. You're the mother of a coward who calls himself the Lionheart. Lionheart, my arse! Ha! They ought to call him the Weaselheart instead!” Robard twisted his head as if to spit but thought better of it, given the lush red carpeting we knelt on.

Eleanor's eyes darkened. “Captain,” she said, pointing to Robard and Maryam, “put these two in chains. The squire stays here.”

The guards pulled Robard and Maryam to their feet. Robard managed to kick one of the guards in the knee and he went down, but another guard drove his fist into Robard's stomach, and he slumped forward with a groan.

“Leave them alone! It's me you want!” I shouted, trying to stand, but the two guards behind me held me down. Robard and Maryam were summarily dragged out of the room. Sir Hugh stood there smiling while the Queen Mother wiggled on her chair. Behind me I heard the fidgeting creak of chain mail from the Captain and the two guards.

“It is you we have wanted for quite some time,” Eleanor said.

Me they wanted? She kept behaving as if she knew me, but how could it be so? Then I thought of home, and St. Alban's. And the note I carried in my satchel that the brothers had found tucked into my blue blanket. The abbot had always believed I was born a noble. Could it be? I remembered the words of that note, “Brothers, he is innocent. . . .”

Ridiculous, I told myself. This was only, could only be about the Grail. I was more certain than ever that Sir Hugh was behind this chicanery.

She settled back in her chair and looked at me, her chin in her hand. Her fingers were adorned with large rings that were far too big for her tiny hands. I tried my best to hold her gaze, but I was too tired and sore to care anymore. It was over, they had won. I was done.

“Nothing to say?” she asked.

“Your highness, I would suggest you let me take him to the dungeon and question him,” Sir Hugh said.

“There's no rush, Sir Hugh. I'd like to enjoy this for a while. After all, we've been searching for him for fifteen years.”

My head came up. Fifteen years searching for me? And she had yet to say anything about the Grail. Could it be she didn't know? Maybe Sir Hugh had kept his true purpose hidden from her as well? She made it sound like it was me she was after. Could I use this knowledge to our advantage somehow?

“Yes, your highness, I have something to say. Has Sir Hugh told you why he was so desperate to track me down? I assume he asked for your help and the help of your guards?” I asked. The Queen Mother did not answer, but her expression and quick sideways glance at Sir Hugh told me I had hit the mark. “It's because Sir Hugh is quite incompetent. Did he tell you he has pursued me all the way from Outremer yet has never quite managed to catch me? Or did he even tell you why he's chasing me in the first place?”

Eleanor stood up and paced along the wooden platform. Sir Hugh clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

“Shut your mouth, squire,” he spat.

Eleanor watched the exchange with a new curiosity, but said nothing.

“Interesting,” I said. “You should ask him . . .”

Sir Hugh shot forward and backhanded me across the face. The blow staggered me, and I fell backward, my legs tucked awkwardly beneath me. I struggled to rise, but Sir Hugh stood over me and raised his fist to strike me again. “I'll teach you proper respect if it's the last thing . . . ,” he growled.

“Hugh! Cease!” Eleanor's sharp command stayed his fist in midair. He stood up, straightening his tunic. I struggled to right myself and finally found my balance again, resting my hands on my thighs as I knelt there, feeling the anger rise, tasting blood on my lip. I had been raised by gentle men with no violence in their hearts, but rage grew inside me. At that instant I wanted only to strike Sir Hugh down.

He returned to his spot by Eleanor's throne, but his face betrayed his emotions. Once again he had what he most desired within his grasp, but the powerful Queen Mother stood in his way. If she discovered his true intent, she would undoubtedly relieve him of the Grail.

“How does it feel to always be finishing second, Sir Hugh?” I taunted him. “You couldn't command your own regimento. Sir Thomas was the one the men followed. You wouldn't stand up to the Marshal in Tyre and couldn't defeat a group of peasants at Montségur. Now the Queen Mother pulls your strings. It must be a sad life being such a puppet.”

Sir Hugh moved toward me again, but this time Eleanor stood between us.

“He has the same tart tongue as well as the looks,” she said. “No wonder Richard sent word to me right away.” Again her words only confused me. I had met Richard only twice in passing, not counting saving him on the battlefield. Had Sir Hugh told her of my encounters with her son? Seeing the look of bewilderment on my face, it was as if she read my mind.

“Oh yes, young squire. I know
quite
a lot about you,” she said. She clasped her hands in front of her and steepled her fingers. “Quite a lot indeed. And I'm sure you must have many questions.”

I hesitated. The Grail was my only advantage here. If I told her of its existence, I could thwart Sir Hugh, but giving it to her might be worse. I waited.

“Questions, squire? I can see them on your face. Don't you wish to know? About your past?”

It felt as if she had punched me in the stomach. Trying not to show any interest, I straightened and threw my shoulders back. Of course I wished to know. But I would never give her the satisfaction. Not while she held my friends in her dungeon. Not ever. Besides, this had to be about the Grail. If Sir Hugh had told her I was an orphan, of my encounters with her son, then I was certain she was taking some perverse delight in tormenting me. Maybe, just maybe, she was the one who wanted the Grail and had sent Sir Hugh to find it, promising him something he desired when he delivered it to her. Sir Thomas' warnings about the greed and madness of those who had dedicated their lives to finding it floated through my mind. I told myself there was nothing she could do to me that would cause me to break my vow to my knight or my friends.

She only laughed at me, in her ridiculous high-pitched cackle. Witch.

“Captain, take him to the dungeon with his friends,” she commanded. “Sir Hugh and I have much to discuss.”

The guards pulled me to my feet.

“If it pleases my lady, I will accompany the guards to ensure he is safely locked away,” Sir Hugh said.

The Queen Mother waved him away with her hand. “Fine. Do so, but return here at once. And I mean immediately, Hugh.”

We left the room, walking down a long passageway that ended at a heavy wooden door. It creaked open, and a stone stairway led us down to a single cell that had been dug out of the ground. The door opened and I was unceremoniously pushed in. There was only one flickering torch lighting the cavern, and I could barely make out Robard and Maryam sitting slumped against the wall, their hands and feet shackled in chains. The iron door slammed behind me and I heard the key turn. Before I could step back, Sir Hugh reached through the bars, grabbing hold of my tunic, and slammed me forward so my face was only inches away from his.

He lowered his voice and hissed, “Where is it, squire?”

“Why should I tell you now? You're going to kill me anyway.” I spoke loudly, hoping the Captain and his guards would hear me and wonder what Sir Hugh was talking about.

Sir Hugh smirked and released me.

“Captain, where are their belongings?” he asked.

“Still in the wagon, sire,” the Captain replied.

“Bring them to me at once,” he barked. He released his grip on me and left, nearly racing up the few steps. The Captain and his guards followed, and we heard the wooden door slam and lock.

They hadn't even put me in chains. Robard and Maryam both stood. Their hands were bound and locked in front of them, and a long chain ran between the shackles on their hands to their feet, but they could stand and move about a bit. Luckily the walls of the dungeon were just dirt and they were not chained to the wall.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Robard asked.

“I don't know,” I answered.

I gave the cell door a shake, but it was locked securely.

Up above us a single barred window let in fresh air.

“Does anyone have any ideas?” I begged. Robard and Maryam were silent.

Then I heard a scratching sound at the window above. We looked up and the three of us were startled to see Angel's face poking through the bars of the window. In her mouth she clutched Robard's belt, on which he carried a small knife. She let go of the belt and it tumbled to the floor at our feet.

Then she yipped happily.

D
espite our desperate situation, the three of us were so overjoyed to see the dog that we all laughed out loud. Robard in particular was beside himself, whistling and praising her repeatedly. For a moment I wondered if he might have taken too many blows to the head in his struggles with the King's Guards.

With the knife, I tried unlocking Robard and Maryam's wrist shackles and leg irons. The locks' chains were too thick and rusty for me to have any success. It would require a hammer and chisel to release them.

Having no luck with the chains, I tried inserting the knife into the lock on the cell door to see if I could work it open. Slowly, I twisted and turned the knife for several minutes but to no avail. I pounded on the bar nearest me in frustration. How could I get us out of here?