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She spoke of you all the time, Hugh, Matthew told me. She missed you terribly.
We all thought you were lost in the war. But not Sophie.
You are certain, brother, that she is dead?
I am. Matthew shrugged. When they took her she was already more dead than
alive.
But you did not actually see her die? You don't know for sure?
Not for sure. But I beg you, brother, not to cling to false hope. I'm her
flesh and blood. And I damn well pray she was dead as they dragged her out of
here.
I met his eyes. So she maynot be dead, Matthew?
He looked at me quizzically. You must accept it, Hugh. If she was not then,
I'm certain she was soon. Her body could have been left somewhere along the
road.
So you searched the road? And did you find her? Has anyone traveling from the
west come upon her remains?
No. No one.
Then there's a chance. You say she never doubted me. That she knew I would
return. Well,I do the same for her.
I found myself in the part of the inn where our living space had been.
Everything was cinder. Our bed, a chest of drawers... On the floor, I noticed
something reflecting light.
I dropped to my knees, swept away ash. My heart almost exploded with joy.
Tears welled in my eyes.
It was Sophie's comb. Her half of the one she'd placed in my hand the day I
left. It was charred, broken; it almost crumbled in my hand. But in my blood,
I felt her!
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I held it up, and from my pouch hastily removed the other half. I fitted them
together as best I could. In that moment, Sophie came alive to me-her eyes,
her laugh-as vibrantly as when I had last seen her.
These knights, Matthew, they didn't leave her to die in the same flames as my
son. They took her for a reason. I looked up at him, holding the comb aloft.
Perhaps it is not such false hope after all.
Outside, my old friends Odo and Georges the miller were waiting.
Give us the word, Hugh, Georges said. We will hunt the bastards with you.
We've all suffered. We know who is responsible. They deserve to die.
I know. I put my hand on the miller's shoulder. But first I must find Sophie.
Your wife is dead, Odo replied. We saw it, Hugh, though it seems more
nightmare than real.
You saw her dead? I waited for the smith to answer.
I looked at Georges.Or you ?
They both shrugged guiltily. They glanced at Matthew for support.
Sophie lives as my own Alo lives, the miller said. In Heaven.
For you, Georges, but not for me. Sophie still lives on this earth. I know it.
I can feel her.
I picked up my staff and pouch and slung a skin of water around my neck. I
headed toward the stone bridge.
What are you going to do, Hugh, jab them with that stick? Odo hurried to my
side. You are just one man. With no armor or sword.
I'm going to find her, Odo. I promise, I'll find Sophie.
Let me get you some food, Odo pleaded. Or some ale. You still drink ale, don't
you, Hugh? The army didn't cure you of that? Next I'll hear you've been going
to church on Sundays.
From his guarded look, it was clear he thought he would never see me again.
I will bring her back, Odo. You'll see.
I took my stick and headed into the woods.
Toward Treille.
Chapter 26
I RAN IN A BLIND HAZE in the direction I had come. Toward my liege's castle at
Treille.
Grief tore at me like wild dogs. My son had died because of me. Because of my
stupid folly. Because of my foolishness and pride.
As I ran, a swell of bitterness surged inside. The thought of that bastard
Norcross, or any of his henchmen, having my poor Sophie...
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I had fought for these so-called nobles in the Holy Land while they raped and
slaughtered in the name of God. I had marched and killed and followed the
Pope's call. And this was my wage. Not freedom, not a changed life, but misery
and scorn. I had been a fool to trust the rich.
I ran until my legs gave out. Then, exhausted and blind with rage, I fell to
the ground, covering my sores in dirt.
I had to find Sophie. I know you are alive. I'll make you well. I know how
you've suffered.
At every turn, I prayed I would not stumble over her body. Every time I
didn't, it gave me hope that she was alive.
After a day of traveling, I looked around and didn't know where I was. I had
no food and had run out of water. All that pushed me on was rage. I checked
the sun. Was I heading east or north? I had no idea.
But still I ran. My legs were like heavy irons. I was dizzy and my stomach
ached for food. My eyes were glazed over with tears. Yet I ran.
Passersby on the road looked at me as if I were mad. A madman with his
staff.Treille... I begged them.
They scurried to get out of the way. Pilgrims, merchants, even outlaws let me
pass for the fury in my eyes.
I knew not if it was one day or two. I ran until my legs gave out again. As I
came to my senses, darkness clung to me. The night was cold, and I was
shivering. Ominous sounds hooted from the brush.
From deep in the woods, I heard the rushing water of a stream. I clawed my way
off the road and into the woods, following the sound.
Suddenly I lost my footing. I grasped for a bush, but my hand slipped. I
started to tumble. I clawed for anything to hold, a vine, a branch. The ground
disappeared beneath me.
Jesus... I was falling.
Let it come. I deserve it. I will die out here in the night.
I called to Sophie as I hurtled out of control down the ravine.
My head smacked against something hard. I felt a warm and viscous fluid fill
my mouth. I'm coming, I said one more time.
To Sophie.
To the howling darkness...
Then the world went black on me, and that was much better, thank you, Lord.
Chapter 27 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
