East of Ashes (20 page)

Read East of Ashes Online

Authors: Gideon Nieuwoudt

BOOK: East of Ashes
6.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 

Lamech looked at Othniel again, his eyes pleading.

 

"When the truth
had
finally hit, I couldn't stay my hand - didn't
want
to. I plunged my sword into him - again and again and again... until he was hanging limp, my hand the only thing h
o
ld
ing
him up."

 

"I knew exactly what I had done - my mind was crystal clear at the time, my rage extinguishing any remorse I might have felt. I allowed him to drop to the floor, removed my blood-splattered outer cloak, and wiped my sword clean on it. I rolled up my cloak into a bundle, tucked it under my arm and headed straight for the stables. I had to get away quickly, before they discovered his body. So I left and headed to Avignon where I changed my name and tried to create a new life as a knight for hire."

 

"But your grief and anger followed you," Othniel said knowingly.

 

"Yes
...a
nd no matter what I did, it wouldn't wash away what I had done. Until I was so consumed by it that I walked around with a constant thunder cloud enveloping me."

 

And then I met Leala
, he thought to himself. And for a brief moment he had dared to hope again that light might dawn on the darkness of his life again. And then he almost destroyed it before it had a chance to take root.

 

He would forever be grateful that his hand was stayed that night. He turned to Othniel: "God may be loving and He may have given His son for us so that we can be reconciled to Him, but it doesn't include me. I am cursed because of what I have done."

 

"And you think my acts are less worthy of damnation?" Othniel asked. "I've been a soldier all my life; I've killed countless men. Am I more deserving of God's mercy? Not at all!"

 

"In fact, scripture tells us that no one is; that we've all sinned and deserve death. But it's exactly because God loves us that He did something about that. Because we couldn't do it ourselves, He did all of it. Jesus came to die, to pay the price to fulfil the righteous requirements of God's law, so that we might live through grace, no matter what we did."

 

"Who are we to say no to that? How can we look into the face of such mercy and throw it back at God? When I came face to face with that choice, I couldn't help but take the offered gift. To do otherwise seemed foolish to me."

 

Lamech's pride was angered by Othniel's straight words, but he also knew his friend spoke that way because he cared. But he just couldn't bring himself to do what his friend wanted.

 

"Thank you for listening - and for your encouragement," he said and got up to go to his tent as if by walking away he could sweep away Othniel's words as though they were written in sand.

 

He hesitated for a moment, and then added: "I will think about what you said. Maybe one day I will come to the same conclusion," he conceded.

 

As Lamech left the campfire, Othniel was saddened that Lamech hadn't used the opportunity to make right with his
M
aker, but he also knew that the seeds were planted and that God would take in the harvest when the time was right.

 

Forgive him for his pride Lord
, he prayed.
He doesn't see that it is blinding him to Your gift of mercy. Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see. Keep knocking at the door of his heart until he opens the door to You. Thank
Y
ou for this opportunity I had to minister to him. Continue to use me as You see fit.

 

With that prayer on his lips, Othniel lay down on his side and fell asleep next to the fire - its last remaining flames flickering lazily, fingers stretching out heavenwards.

 

CHAPTER 11

 

--- Antioch, 31 May 1098 ---

 

 

 

--- Bohemond ---

 

 

 

Bohemond was standing at the entrance to the council tent, getting some fresh air after hours of deliberations with the other princes. They were still at it, deciding on a strategy to finally conquer Antioch.

 

The problem with not having a single commander
was
that each prince was carefully weighing each option to see how it would benefit them. It had been this way since the start of the Crusade and he was no different, of course. But among the princes
,
he knew he was the best military commander.

 

This was both a blessing and a curse to Bohemond: on the one hand the others tended to defer to his opinion on military matters more often than not, but they did so grudgingly. He often found himself being banded up against on other matters. It was irritating but he was determined not to let their pettiness get to him.

 

Bohemond shook his head slightly as he stared at the La Mahomerie stronghold the Crusaders had erected in the distance. On the surface he seemed pensive, but his ears were acutely tuned to the conversation behind him.

 

He knew exactly how to conquer Antioch, but he had been waiting for the right moment to reveal his master stroke. He had worked endlessly to get everything lined up so that when he unveiled it, action could be taken almost immediately.

 

Now, after months of going nowhere, it seemed that the princes would finally be ready to give him what he wanted in turn for a strategy that would bring an end to the siege.

 

Looking up at the majestic walls of the city, he knew there was nothing else he wanted more. It would be a high price for them but in the end they would pay it. Even if one of the other princes, Raymond of Toulouse, also had his heart set on the same prize.

 

His eyes still locked on the walls, he finally raised his voice over the others: "I have a different way."

 

His words immediately silenced the others. Savouring their attention, Bohemond took his time before turning around and walking back to the map table.

 

"The only way over the walls is through the gates," he continued, smiling as irritation flashed on their faces at his cryptic words. He knew they were struggling not to ask the obvious question and was disappointed when they didn't.

 

"We've tried both breaking down the gates and getting over the walls, but to no avail," he continued. "The reason for our failure is blatantly obvious: until now we haven't had any help."

 

Raymond of Toulouse finally took his bait and blurted out: "We've tried getting spies into the city, but their commander is particularly good at sniffing them out!"

 

Bohemond hid his pleasure carefully and answered: "True. That's why we need someone who ha
s
been living in Antioch long before we arrived."

 

The look of surprise, mixed with hope and envy on their faces w
as
particularly pleasant to behold. He knew that all of them would have thought of something like this before and would have tried setting up such a solution, but up to now none of them had been successful.

 

They all knew what he desired
,
and that he wouldn't have mentioned this solution if he hadn't already succeeded in finding someone inside the city who was willing to commit treason.

 

Godfrey of Bouillon, one of the most capable princes among them and the only one Bohemond really respected, spoke softly: "We're listening."

 

"It's simple really," Bohemond shrugged, "I have a contact inside the city that is willing to help us get a few men onto the wall. They could then kill the guards and open one of the gates to the rest of us."

 

"And the price?" Godfrey asked.

 

Bohemond smiled. Godfrey had always been one to cut right to the heart of matters.

 

"Not much: just that his life - and that of his wife and children - be spared," Bohemond answered innocently.

 

Godfrey just smiled: "You know that's not what I meant."

 

"Ah, yes. My price is simple too," Bohemond smiled, meeting Godfrey's gaze. "I want Antioch."

 

It was actually a relief to finally voice what he had wanted all along. The others looked slightly pleased with themselves for having guessed correctly.
That one's free boys
, Bohemond thought.

 

And then his relief was dashed to pieces when the princes looked at each other, communicating without saying a word. Bohemond immediately realised he had badly underestimated how deeply their resentment ran.

 

He was careful not to show any emotion, but inside he raged at his own miscalculation.

 

Raymond was their spokesman, who drove the knife deep as he spoke with unbridled enjoyment: "That is too high a price."

 

Bohemond only glared at him.

 

"Antioch is of vital strategic importance to the Crusade and should be governed by the council of princes," Raymond continued, "If you are not willing to help without exacting such a price, we will find another avenue to secure this city."

 

Bohemond was tempted to punch Raymond in his pompous face, but instead he forced himself to turn around and leave the council tent in silence. He was livid at their short-sightedness, but more so with how bad his timing had been.

 

The other princes would now spare no resource to discover the identity of his contact.

 

As he walked to his own tent, he was desperately thinking of a way to force their hand. Little did he know that at that very moment
,
a messenger was racing towards them with news that would give him exactly what he
had
wanted.

 

 

 

-------

 

 

 

--- Antioch, 3 June 1098 ---

 

 

 

Lamech had woken early that morning. The moment he opened his eyes, he knew the day would be pivotal.

 

For a long time he remained in bed, listening to the silence before dawn. When he eventually got up, he strapped
on
his armour, prepared some breakfast and ate in silence as the camp slowly awoke.

 

It didn't take long before Othniel and the others in their group began emerging from their tents, all dressed in their armour too. After preparing their breakfast, they joined Lamech around the campfire, eating quietly.

 

Othniel broke the silence: "The princes finally accepted Bohemond's offer last night." He had already filled them in on what had transpired a few days earlier in the council tent, one of his contacts having overheard the whole exchange.

 

Since then other news had sent a shockwave through the Crusader camp. A scout had returned just a day after the princes rejected Bohemond's plan, bearing tidings of a massive Caracen army marching towards the besieged city.

Other books

Destined by Sophia Sharp
America's White Table by Margot Theis Raven, Mike Benny
Always You by Kirsty Moseley
Bill's New Frock by Anne Fine
Condominium by John D. MacDonald