Maryam looked stricken.
“What? Robard, you can’t be serious!” she said.
Robard shook his head as he slung the wallet onto his back and fiddled with the bow’s string.
“I’m sorry, Maryam, but I can’t. I have duties at home, responsibilities to my father and family. The longer I delay, the greater their burden,” he said. Robard sounded sad when he spoke of his family, and for the first time since I’d met him, I realized how much he missed them. I was already guilty of delaying his return. Yet I still needed him.
“Robard, I understand, but you musn’t. .”
Robard held up his hand, shaking his head.
“No, Tristan. Not this time. You are my friend. Aside from being thrown in jail, shot at by crossbows, shipwrecked and wrestling with a large Frenchman, I have enjoyed your company. I even appreciate your sense of duty. But I cannot wait any longer. And if I do, you’ll talk me into something again, and before I know it, I’ll be hiking through the French countryside dodging who knows whom or what. This is what I need to do.”
My shoulders slumped. I wished to tell him the truth and almost did. It was there, right on the tip of my tongue. I would gladly reveal all of my secrets to both of them. But I could not. And I could not deny Robard this.
I stood up straight and held out my hand, and he shook it.
“I owe you much, my friend,” I said.
“Try to stay out of trouble,” he said. He looked at Maryam and his face softened.
“Good-bye, Maryam. I have enjoyed. .”
“What are you going to do? How are you going to find a way home? Tristan, will you try to talk some sense into him?” She stormed off a few paces and glared at both of us.
Maryam’s reaction confused me. She had done nothing but argue with Robard from the first and now she expected me to persuade him to stay? I had grown up in a monastery, without women. Was this how women acted all the time? They said one thing, yet did another. If so, I now understood the monks a little better.
“His mind is made up, Maryam,” I said.
“So un-make up your mind!” she said sharply. “You have a duty to your friend. What kind of soldier are you!”
This was the Maryam I was used to.
“I am no longer a soldier. I have done my duty,” he snapped.
“I think you’re afraid!” she yelled.
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Of Sir Hugh, of this High Counsel. .”
Robard held up his hand. “Enough. It’s decided. I’m leaving. Good-bye, Tristan. Good luck. I hope we’ll meet again. When you reach England, come to Sherwood Forest and look for me. Our farm lies along the eastern edge of the forest, not far from Nottingham.”
Without another word he started walking toward the west, following the tracks of the High Counsel and his men.
Angel had remained silent through our exchange but now barked at him.
“Sorry, dog. . Angel. He’s leaving,” I said.
She sprinted after Robard and circled his feet, barking and pushing at his legs, trying to drive him back to us.
“What. . Get down! Stay. Go back!” Robard exclaimed.
But she would not be deterred. She ran back and forth between us, barking madly, but Robard kept walking, and Angel finally returned to us and sat on her haunches, whining pitifully.
Maryam stood silent, glowering at the receding figure. “I hope he’s happy with himself,” she scoffed.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Maryam. His family does need him. Times are hard in England,” I said. “Now, if you’re coming with me, I think we should get started.”
Robard had vanished around the bend, so we headed back the way we had come the night before. Angel waited and waited and finally followed along reluctantly. Both she and Maryam were in foul moods, and Maryam muttered under her breath as we walked. I had the feeling she had no desire for conversation, so I kept silent.
Worried as I was about Maryam, my greatest concern was finding our way to England. We were in a strange country, and I knew only that home lay somewhere to the north. Since I had left the temple in Acre, nothing had happened as I had hoped. Now I was blundering about in a foreign land, hoping to somehow stumble my way home. Robard, on reflection, may have been right. I assumed it would take weeks for someone to reach the northern coast if they knew where they were going. Traveling blind like this was a bad idea. But I truly believed it was safer than trying to find a port city. Carry on, Tristan, I told myself. Beauseant!
It didn’t work.
Maryam seethed with silent rage as we made our way through the woods. For no better reason than it was familiar to us, we followed the stream north again. Once past Celia’s campsite from the night before, we would enter unknown territory.
After a while I tried again to engage Maryam in conversation, but despite my efforts she remained sullen. I knew her anger was not directed at me, but the farther we traveled, the more I wished to have the old Maryam back.
As we rounded a bend in the stream, the wind picked up and Angel suddenly stiffened, then growled. She had smelled something on the breeze, and sensing her alarm, Maryam and I stopped in our tracks.
Angel paced forward, standing rigid, her nose working the air.
“What do you think she smells?” Maryam asked quietly.
“Don’t know. Most likely a squirrel,” I answered. But I didn’t believe it. Something in her manner urged caution. Silently I drew my short sword. I was about to encourage Maryam to draw her daggers, but a quick glance showed me they were already in her hands. How had she done that?
“Easy, girl,” I said to Angel. “Let’s go.”
The three of us moved silently along the stream, the sound of our movements muffled by the bubbling water. Several yards past the campsite, Angel stopped to sniff at something on the ground.
“Maryam,” I whispered. “Is that. .?”
“Yes,” she answered.
A large spot of blood covered the leaves and ferns lining the forest floor. Something big had been killed or severely wounded nearby.
“Maybe we should take a different route,” I offered.
Maryam shrugged. In her present state, with her pent-up anger at Robard, I thought she might actually enjoy finding something to fight.
Angel sauntered past the blood and this time kept her nose to the ground, moving quietly along the stream. Then without warning, she let out a bark and took flight, charging ahead. She bounded into the nearby underbrush and disappeared from sight.
“Dog. . Angel!” I stammered. “Come back!”
We crept forward through the thicket until we reached Angel, barking and pawing at the ground near a large oak. As we approached her, I nearly screamed when a man fell from behind the tree and onto the ground.
I circled around to the front of the man while Maryam held her position at the rear. When I could see his face, I was shocked to discover I knew him.
It was Philippe.
His shirtfront was covered in blood. One of his arms looked broken, and as I knelt beside him, his eyes opened. He looked up at me and said, “Celia! Vous devez la sauver!”
Then he pitched forward and collapsed in my arms.
“What did he say?” Maryam asked.
“He said, ‘Celia. You must save her.’”