Mamluk by J K Swift

Author:J K Swift [Swift, J K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: UE Publishing Co.
Published: 2018-03-14T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

On the inner wall, there was a large armory located in the base of the tower looming a short distance south of the Gate of Saint Anthony. Normally overflowing with spears, swords, and axes, the room now contained nothing save row upon row of empty weapon racks pushed against the walls to make space for the group of men gathered in its center.

Foulques followed the grand master and marshal inside the tower. No sooner had he set foot in the hastily created strategy room, then a gravelly voice called out.

“What is he doing here, Mathieu?” William de Beaujeu, the Grand Master of the Templars said, leveling a thick finger at Foulques. “The prince said this was to be a meeting of commanders only.”

Unlike Marshal Clermont and Grand Master Villiers, Grand Master Beaujeu’s beard was short and neat, like his hair, and less streaked with gray than either of the two Hospitallers, though all three men were probably similar in age.

“Foulques has recently been promoted to admiral. As such, he has every right to be here,” Marshal Clermont said, walking straight up to Beaujeu and staring him down.

“Admiral?” Beaujeu looked right past Clermont at Foulques. “And how many ships in this new fleet of yours, Admiral?”

“Say nothing, Admiral Foulques!” Clermont said. “For that information could be too easily traded for gold.”

Beaujeu laughed, but the sound was dry and humorless. He took a step toward Clermont. “Be careful who you accuse of being a spy, Mathieu.”

“Spies sell information to the enemy,” Clermont said. “You, however, will sell anything to anyone. Is there a word for that?”

“I believe it is called a Hospitaller,” Beaujeu said, crossing his arms and taking a step forward.

Grand Master Villiers put a hand on Marshal Clermont’s shoulder and the Templar marshal also took a step forward. Whether he was going to attempt to rein in his grand master, or join in the fray himself, Foulques would never know, for in just that moment, a shout went up near the doorway.

“Make way for the prince! Clear a path!”

There were fifteen or twenty men in the room. Grudgingly, Clermont and Beaujeu backed away from each other to make space at the doorway.

Two fully armed Cypriot knights moved slowly into the room followed by Prince Amalric, a young man barely out of his teens. Behind him trailed two of his advisers. Foulques immediately saw the resemblance between the prince and King Henry, his slightly older brother. Amalric was a fleshed out, more fully realized version of his older brother. Where Henry’s eyes were sunken and his skin pale, Amalric bore all the signs of a man who spent a good deal of time in the outdoors. He was still a thin man, but his skin was browned by the sun and his eyes bright and quick as they took in the men surrounding his little entourage. So similar was he in looks to his older brother, it was as though God had made Henry first, who had proved disappointing, so He then went ahead and created Amalric.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.