Philippe was barely breathing. I knelt beside him and cut away his shirt with my small knife. A large wound just below his heart still bled. Having seen men die on the battlefield, I was amazed that Philippe was still alive and that he’d managed the strength to crawl as far as he had through the trees. I also realized there was nothing I could do for him.
“What should we do?” Maryam asked.
“There is nothing we can do except pray for his soul,” I said.
“He was a fellow warrior,” she said sadly, kneeling in the familiar position that I knew meant she was praying.
“Yes, he was,” I replied quietly.
I studied Philippe again. His sword was missing. There was no sign of his horse.
“Who do you think could have done this?” Maryam asked. “Was it this High Counsel?”
“I don’t know. Philippe was always circling back to see if they were being followed. It could be they. .”
Philippe reached up and grabbed my arm, and I yelped in surprise. His eyes flew open, and with every bit of will he had, he focused on me. My heart pounded in my chest and my breath stopped.
“Templar! You must save her. I’m nearly done. The High Counsel will not rest until he crushes her and her father. Swear to me.” So Philippe could speak English! I had been right after all.
“Philippe, what happened? How were you hurt?” I asked.
He struggled for breath.
“The High Counsel left a small force behind, trailing north. They must have found my tracks from my earlier scouts and guessed I would ride back to check. Six of them ambushed me.” He coughed then, and a horrible gurgling sound came from his chest. He groaned in agony.
“Where are they now?”
“Four of them are dead,” he said. He stopped, still struggling to breathe.
“Let me see if I can treat. .”
“NO!” he said, and squeezed my arm so tightly that I thought the bones would break. Even near death his strength was remarkable. He groaned and closed his eyes, then raised his head again to speak.
“No. Leave now. Celia will move everyone from the villages to Montsegur, our fortress, but the High Counsel will not give up easily. You are a soldier. You are needed there. Celia needs you. Jean-Luc, the others, they are far too young. . and inexperienced. . Good men, but they have never seen a real battle. Celia. . she said she saw something in you. I was not. .” He closed his eyes for a few seconds, but then his head came up again.
“I. . was not. . impressed,” he said. He gripped my arm. “But you have returned here, so you must be braver than I thought. Now go. They will need your help. Go.”
“Philippe, I will see you are given a Christian burial-” I started to say.
“No! No time. We are Cathars! We care not for the church and its rules. Leave my bones where they fall. Go. Swear to me you will go to her,” he said. “Templars give an oath to protect the innocent, do they not?”
“Yes.”
“Then as a soldier, promise you will defend her. On my soul, she and her people. . our people. . are innocent,” he groaned, and closed his eyes again.
“You have my vow, Philippe. I will go to her,” I said, placing my free hand over his. “Everything I can do, I will. On my honor as a Templar.”
Philippe nodded. Angel whined again as Philippe took one more ragged breath and life left him. Maryam bowed her head and said a few more quiet words. For reasons I couldn’t understand, I felt a profound sadness. Philippe had certainly not cared for me, but I offered up a silent prayer for this man who had so bravely given his life for his friends.
“Let’s go,” I said, starting back through the woods toward the stream. Maryam called behind me.
“Tristan, wait. What about Philippe? We can’t just leave him here.”
“You heard him. He made his wishes clear.”
“Yes, but you can’t just not bury the poor man,” she said. Sir Thomas had once told me how the Saracens had very strict laws governing the handling and burial of their dead.
“Maryam, I know how you feel. But Philippe’s faith was his own. It is not our place to question him. He asked me to go to Celia’s aid as quickly as possible. Burying him will take hours.”
“Stop!” she shouted at me. I stopped.
“What do you think you’re doing, Tristan? What is going on here?”
“I. . You saw. Philippe is dead; Celia and her people need my help.”
“Do they now?” I wasn’t sure but I thought I detected just an edge of disgust or maybe sarcasm in Maryam’s voice.
“Yes. You heard Philippe. They are in trouble. I promised I would try to help them.”
“So you’ll forget your ‘vital’ mission and traipse off to help someone you just met and hardly know?”
“Maryam, please. Philippe just gave his life for his people! They are obviously in grave danger. You heard me swear an oath to help. An oath, Maryam. We Templars tend to take such promises very seriously. I cannot-”
“Tristan, I don’t believe you for a minute,” she interrupted me. “You’re using this oath as an excuse to go back to this girl.”
“Well, you are entitled to your thoughts. But I assure you. .”
Maryam held up a hand.
“What do you think you’re doing, squire? Putting you-and me, for that matter-in danger? Before you met this girl, you were single-mindedly focused on getting to England with your ‘dispatches. ’ Have you stopped to consider everything? What if you go to this place and find Celia? What if you don’t make it out alive? What will happen to your mission then?”
“If you didn’t want to come with me, maybe you should have gone with Robard,” I said. But I regretted it instantly, for I’d said it more harshly than I’d wished. Maryam didn’t deserve such a sharp reply.
She didn’t flinch from my words though.
“Maybe I should have. But I didn’t. And I have my reasons. But nothing before this has dissuaded you from finding a way to England. Not Sir Hugh, not nearly drowning in a storm or being stranded in a strange country. But you meet this girl, you swear an ‘oath’ and all of a sudden your mission is forgotten. I think Robard was right. It’s not oath at all. You are smitten.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Are you questioning my honor?”
“Is it? Is it really ridiculous? You tell me.”
Maryam’s words made me wince, for in truth she was right on the mark. For reasons I could not explain, I had thought of little more than Celia since watching her and her group ride off. When we’d encountered the High Counsel on the beach, my first thought was of her safety. Though I barely knew her, I was suddenly consumed with finding her and making sure she was safe. Was this what being smitten meant? I had no idea. Before I’d left the monastery, I’d barely even seen a girl. And more important, did I make a promise to Philippe only because it gave me the chance to see her again?
“Maryam. . she. . I am not smitten,” I said defensively.
“Yes, you are.”
“I am not,” I said.
“Are.”
“I am. . Stop it! She. . I. . am only. . I have an obligation to her since she came to my aid when I was shipwrecked. Now I’ve promised Philippe whatever help I can give. There is a debt unpaid.”
“Really? All I heard her do was ridicule you for joining the Knights Templar.”
“She did not.” All right. In truth, really, she had. But Maryam hadn’t heard any of the nice things she’d said. Or seen her face in the moonlight. She hadn’t witnessed the ice-blue pools of Celia’s eyes. Oh dear.
“Hmph.” Maryam sounded disgusted.
I tried to apologize. “Maryam, I’m sorry. .”
She held up her hand again. I was becoming very familiar with the hand. At least it didn’t have a dagger in it.
“Let’s go,” she said with disgust. She pushed past me and made her way back to the stream, turning north. She said nothing for a long while as I stumbled along behind her.
“How are we even going to find her?” she finally asked, her voice still dripping with anger.
A good question. A very good question.
And in truth I had absolutely no idea.