Kurtz, Katherine Knights Templar 02 Temple and the Crown

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sword, and could be explained by Torquil's Scottish origins. Such blades were entirely reasonable
accoutrements for travelers on the pilgrim routes; and the iron-shod pilgrim staff that each of them carried
could also serve as quarterstaff or even halberd for defense.
Even as pilgrims, their travel must be wary. Moving from oasis to oasis, village to village, the two of them
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traversed the arid wastes of the Nile Delta like men crossing a dangerous river by a series of precarious
stepping-stones. When possible, they traveled in the company of caravans, for safety and anonymity lay
in numbers, and the Muslims respected the institution of pilgrimage even by those of other faiths. Only
after many weeks of travel did the two Templars at last enter the wilderness of Judah, the southern
gateway to the Holy Land.
The timeless landscape had changed but little since their last sojourn there, nearly twenty years before.
Two days' journey to the north, by Arnault's reckoning, lay the heavily salted waters of the Dead Sea.
Nearer at hand, bleak desert surrounded them on all sides, stretching to every horizon in wind-scoured
ridges of sand and stone. Arid breezes raked up sheets of grit that stung the eyes and clogged the throat.
Here and there, rocky crags and sheer escarpments reared up like cyclopean ruins.
The leader of their present caravan, a Muslim captain named Qasim, was in the pay of a consortium of
merchants whose goods he had been hired to protect: coffee and copper, honey and salt bars, bales of
cotton, carpets, leather, and ivory. So far, the only hazards had been hunger and thirst and the danger of
losing their way. From these, Qasim had protected them well. He knew every spring and well along the
route, and where to stop to renew their supplies. And he knew the stars in the sky as well as a man
knows the rooms in his own house.
In addition to the armed guards and the drovers who cared for the pack animals, and the merchants
themselves, a score of other pilgrims accompanied the caravan, Jews as well as Muslims, and even a few
other Christians. But though it was Qasim's duty before Allah to protect all these human charges, they
received none of the personal attention he gave to the animals-the camels, mules, and donkeys, at least
two hundred of them in the long train, in addition to the horses of his men-all of them giving off a pungent
reek in the desert heat. Qasim was being paid to see that the goods reached their destination safely-and
for that, he must keep his pack animals ?t and strong, regardless of what happened to the people. Arnault
and Torquil had observed the care with which he inspected each animal at the beginning and end of every
day, overseeing their care and feeding, making sure none suffered from saddle galls or foot problems.
"I suppose we ought to tell Qasim we're leaving in the morning," Torquil said to Arnault, as the two of
them trudged along beside their pack donkey. "On the other hand, I doubt he'd much notice our absence,
if we just slipped away. We've only two legs after all-not four."
"Aye, he does love his animals," Arnault agreed. They spoke in court French, unlikely to be understood
by any of their companions, and had been careful not to reveal that they both were ?uent in Arabic,
Arnault more so than Torquil. "Concern for animals is a virtue of their religion. I've heard it said that
Mohammed once cut the sleeve off a robe he was wearing, rather than disturb a sleeping cat."
"Did he, really?" Torquil replied, falling silent to think about that as they continued to trudge along.
Off to one side, Arnault watched a miniature whirlwind touch down brie?y and stir up sand, then lift again
and spin off in another direction.
"If you're reluctant to leave the caravan, just say so," he said, after another little while. "It does mean
striking out on our own, but I can't help feeling we'll be safer, now that we're getting nearer our goal. I
campaigned in this vicinity when I ?rst took my vows. It's looking more and more familiar."
"You couldna prove it by me," Torquil quipped, for his own experience in the Holy Land had been
somewhat more limited than Arnault's. "We haven't any deserts in Scotland.
Still, it's certainly true that every day we stay with the caravan, we run the risk that someone is going to
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discover who we really are. I don't think they'd be so hospitable to a pair of Western knights as they
have been to two innocent fellow pilgrims."
"Aye, they do respect a man who undertakes a holy journey, as they themselves are doing-even though
we're Christians. It helps that all of us are People of the Book-Christians, Muslims, and Jews. A pity we
keep having to ?ght wars to remind ourselves of that."
"Aye, it is." Torquil squinted against the sun to scan the distant horizon with disfavor. "I confess I'll be
glad to put this rough country behind us."
"Aye, this is typical bandit territory," Arnault agreed. "Far enough into the desert to be clear of military
patrols, yet still within reach of civilized outposts when they need a source of supplies or access to a
market."
A growing plume of dust was rising in the wake of the pack animals, increasingly bothersome as the
caravan passed through an area of ?ner sand, approaching a ridge of higher ground. The two men fell
silent, the better to listen, veiling the lower halves of their faces in folds of their kef?yehs. But as they
continued trudging along, both men kept increasingly sharper watch on the cliffs and ridges ahead. It was
Torquil who ?rst spotted the telltale ?icker of movement partway up the side of a neighboring crest of
high ground-though Arnault was already turning in that direction as Torquil focused his full attention on
what he thought he had seen.
"Uh-oh," he muttered. "Did you see that? I think we may have company."
He jutted his chin vaguely toward the spot in question, though he did not change the carriage of his head.
Narrowly scanning the ridge in his turn, Arnault was able to pick out two bearded faces peeking out from
behind a scrim of tumbled boulders.
"Do you see them?" Torquil murmured.
Arnault half turned his face back toward the younger knight, but his eyes never left his quarry.
"I see them."
"What do you think?"
"I think," said Arnault, "that we had better warn the captain. I would guess that they're assessing our
numbers. Make sure our swords are accessible, but don't uncover them yet."
Leaving Torquil with the donkey, Arnault headed toward the front of the caravan, extending his
long-legged stride to move quickly without appearing to be in a hurry. Qasim had been riding up and
down the caravan, and was currently toward the front, mounted on a wiry chestnut mare as lean and
weather-hardened as her master. He turned in the saddle as Arnault came abreast of him and laid a hand
brie?y on his stirrup, at the same time pulling down the swath of fabric veiling his lower face.
"We are being watched," Arnault announced in brisk Arabic. "Two men lurking in the rocks atop that
hill." He jutted his chin in that direction. "I very much doubt they are alone, or that their intentions are
benign."
The caravan captain gave him a supercilious look but kept his mare moving forward. If he was surprised
at Arnault's sudden display of ?uency, he gave no sign of it. Casually, seeming merely to adjust his
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