The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) by James Mercer (free children's ebooks pdf .TXT) 📕

line was often so broken by the initial charge that their great destriers would smash straight through them. Then would come the time for the sword and axe.

  Following the famed knights in their white mantles, along with their sergeants and squires, was the second contingent of crusaders, in their peculiar surcoats of brown and orange. Although some of the crowd were confident enough to step back into the street after the Templar procession had passed, they were quickly scattered once again by this second company of mounted warriors.

  Unlike the pot helms of the Templars, Sir Aguillard and his two Order Brothers, had chosen helmets with visors, which could be lifted when required. A display of their own intolerance of the lower classes was quickly shown, when a man tried to dart past them and was shoved aside by Sir Olbrecht’s horse. The man had foolishly muttered something, causing others nearby to chuckle at the fool’s comment.

  The man’s enjoyment of the attention from those around him was quickly dispelled when one of the men-at-arms butted him in the back of the head with his shield. The street instantly turned silent as they stared at the unconscious body sprawled on the floor. A small trail of blood seeped from the back of the man’s head.

  Even the local city guards, whose purpose was to keep the peace, cowered behind others after watching the actions of the unknown crusaders. Whoever they were, it was made plain, they were not to be challenged.

The cathedral was located at the centre of the city. A large square was laid out in front and wide paved walkways flanked both sides and the rear, while. As they started to enter the open square, Chevalier trotted his horse around the rest of the Templars and halted beside Garcia, who had removed his helmet.

   “The Master of the Order will be at prayer. I must report to him before we continue to our quarters,” said Garcia.

   “You have arranged suitable lodgings for us?” answered Chevalier, as he lifted his visor.

   “There are always quarters for the knights of the Temple.”

   Garcia and his fellow Temple knights dismounted, handing their reigns over to sergeants and squires. Then as they started to walk to the cathedral, Garcia was astounded when Chevalier, Sir Olbrecht and Sir Guarin continued their journey across the square on their horses.

   “What in God’s name do you think you are doing?” hissed Garcia. “We are about to present ourselves to the Templar Master of the Portuguese chapter. And you plan to meander up to those sacred doors on your damned horses?”

  It was now Chevalier’s turn to bait his so-called ally.

   “How many times must I remind you Sir Alejandro? You do not travel with mere knights, looking for glory on the battlefield. You are in the company of one of the most reputable and decorated knights of the Teutonic Order,” he said, pointing at Sir Olbrecht.

   “As well as a knight who is the heir to one of the most powerful families in the Kingdom of France.”

  He nodded toward Sir Guarin.

   “And then you have me. A high-ranking Brother of the Order of the Blooded Cross, whose connections stretch further than your Portuguese Templar Master. And believe me, in such a rally of Kings and lords, between we three, we hold far more sway than your Master or you.”

  Sir Aguillard Chevalier’s last sentence was dangerous and reminded Garcia that he was playing a risky game.

   “We will leave you to your own agenda Sir Alejandro. My Brothers and I must give our thanks to the Almighty and pray for his protection in what is to come.”

  Without another word, Chevalier and his two Order Brothers continued toward the cathedral on their mounts, oblivious of the strange glances that came their way.

*****

A full moon glowed upon the terracotta rooftops of the city. It was nearing midnight when four figures, disguised in black clothes and dark cloaks, hugged the walls and moved from shadow to shadow.

  When Reynard had told Robert, ‘Take only three’, he knew exactly which three would assist him in such an endeavour. He would have liked to have Wilfred with him but was not sure whether the veteran warrior wouldn’t dissuade him from his venture. Ruscar was not an option either, he was grateful for the warrior’s intervention earlier in the day but knew the Moor would want no part in it.

  As for the three who accompanied him, as well as friendship, the sound of loot was good enough for them.

  Robert still could not explain what drove him to pursue such a reckless mission. Could it really be only for a childhood sweetheart he barely knew? Or to save an innocent maiden from abuse?

  Rounding the next corner, into the narrow street which led to the merchant’s stall, they could hear voices. Then came the groan of a camel and someone trying to silence it.

   “Someone shut that animal up! Hurry with the rest of those carpets and for fuck sake don’t damage those silks. And you woman, be quick with those baskets you dithering bitch.”

  Remaining in the shadows with Jimmy and the Gutsbergs, the four of them slid along the walls like silent demons, until Robert gave the order to disperse.

   “We avoid killing,” he had ordered his compatriots before they had entered the city. But how did you make it look like a looting, with no witnesses, and without bloodshed?

  Robert had always wanted to believe that honour was of great importance and that he would try and abide by it throughout his life. But then he thought back to the day that had changed the course of his life forever. The day he killed the priest who had raped Kate when she was only a young