Trail of Fate by Michael Spradlin Read Free Book Online Page B

Maryam,” I said.
    â€œSo 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.
    â€œI am no longer a soldier. I have done my duty,” he snapped.
    â€œI think you’re afraid!” she yelled.
    â€œAfraid? Of what?”
    â€œOf 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.
    â€œSorry, 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.
    â€œWhat . . . 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.
    â€œDon’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.
    â€œWhat do you think she smells?” Maryam asked quietly.
    â€œDon’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?
    â€œEasy, 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.
    â€œMaryam,” I whispered. “Is that . . .