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

will be completely flawed when they see their whole reason for being here in jeopardy.”

   “I like it,” said Schaffer.

   “It’s reckless but it may just work with the most accurate of timings. Sir Arnaud, my men and I will assault the pit. Once the enemy has focussed on protecting their dig site, the rest of you engage with them,” said the Commander.

  There were only the four Brotherhood knights consisting of Schaffer, Elizondo, Fitzbois and The Master of the Keys who would be attacking the flank of the enemy. Yet all four seemed keen to avenge their Brothers.

   “Then let’s be quick about it then for every moment we waste the more time they have,” answered Taillefer, dismounting his horse.

   “Wait for us here. We need to go further round,” said Robert.

*****

   “Where were they?” thought Garcia, as he peered through the shutters of a window.

  The Templar and Chevalier had organised their men in what they both thought was a fool proof plan. There was only one other entrance into the courtyard that led from the gate. Their initial plans had changed. There was nowhere near enough room to fight on horseback and such a manoeuvre by the enemy would only benefit the Templar’s plans.

  They had hidden half their force down the street adjacent to the one in which they were sure the enemy would come. They were out of sight with only one sentry, while the rest were hidden amongst the buildings. Of the five crossbows left they had positioned the five men on the second floors of the houses that surrounded the courtyard. When the enemy rounded the corner of the opposite street they were confident the Brotherhood would lose at least two, maybe three of the last of their small troop.

  Four sergeants and six men-at-arms guarded the pit in which three of the Order’s men-at-arms were still digging furiously, their own weapons close by. They had sent word that they were certain they had nearly prised one of the stone blocks loose.

The Commander, Robert and their four comrades waited a moment while they tried to determine what ruses may lay ahead. An ancient tree, situated close by, blocked most of their view to the far side of the courtyard. However its benefit was that it hid them from sight as well.

  They could clearly see the excavation which was near to the tree, just as Robert had described. However it was guarded by nearly a dozen men.

   “Where are the crossbows?” said Robert quietly.

   “They’re there, they’ll have time for two volleys maybe three at a push with all that winding and pulling of the bow cord. They’ll be waiting for the others to turn the corner. That’s what I’d do,” replied the Commander.

  Reynard did one last check of what was to become a small arena of bloodshed.

   “Ruscar. You will support us with your bow and only after we have drawn the attention of the others will you join the fray. Try and even the odds as best you can.”

  Ruscar nodded to the instruction and pulled an arrow from his quiver.

   “Now let us finish this.”

Esca had never felt so many emotions at one time and the feeling was making him nauseas. The exhilaration of being so close to the Crown. The dread of the Brotherhood. The terror of both Garcia and Chevalier if the Templar and the Order were the victors. Then finally the desire of returning to his seat of power.

  Although he was no military strategist he was certain that the Brotherhood should have arrived by now. There had been the sound of hooves echoing down the streets and alleyways but they had ceased. Where were they?

  Suddenly a cry came from one of the men-at-arms who was circling the pit. An arrow had pierced the man just below the shoulder. Afraid of being spitted himself, Esca dropped to the ground and lay flat on his stomach. Looking up he could see men moving in the shadows. Then another of the men guarding the pit flew backwards with an arrow straight through his neck.

   “They’re here,” Esca shrieked. “They’re attacking!”

Garcia heard the cry from the wretched Cardinal. The enemy had circled the entire town.

   “They’re going for the pit,” he shouted.

  Without another thought he wrenched open the door and stepped into the open. He immediately saw Esca was lying on his belly. Three of his men were dead.

   “To the pit!” he yelled, pointing his drawn sword to the continuing excavation. “Defend the pit you idle bastards.”

   “Garcia hold your ground,” came the loud voice of Chevalier, His voice echoing through the closed shutters.

  He too was hiding in one of the buildings nearby.

  But it was too late. The Templar knights and their sergeants were abandoning their posts and running to confront what they thought were the knights of the Turin Shroud Brotherhood.

   “Damned fool!” shouted Chevalier.

  He pounded his mailed hand against the wall as he watched from the window, Sir Guarin at his side. Almost all of Garcia’s men were now running toward the ancient tree under which the weapon of Christ resided.

   “Should we not follow?” asked Sir Guarin nervously.

   “No. We wait.”

   “But surely…”

   “That is a mere decoy,” growled the knight in disgust.

  For all his dislike for Garcia he had thought the man had at least some restraint.

  Meanwhile Garcia had arrived at Esca’s side and pulled him to his feet.

   “If you are not going to fight, then be gone you coward,” he snarled, shoving the cleric away from him.

  Another arrow had just flown passed the two of them and struck one of the sergeants in his stomach. The man dropped to the ground, thrashing in agony. The