Jared was escorted from the plane by a Sky Marshall. Apparently, airlines didn't take too kindly to boinking in their toilets. Once they were in the terminal, the Marshall let him go, giving him a stern look. Annie grinned at him and linked her arm through Jared's as they headed towards baggage claim. Paul had remained quiet the entire flight, not even saying a word when Jared was dragged from the cubicle. Now, he stood at baggage claim, already guarding Annie's bag. His eyes scanned the carousel, despite the distant glaze to them.
Annie was exhausted and not just from the effort involved in interdimensional boning. She had slept on the plane shortly after boarding but, beyond that, she hadn't slept a wink. The flight had taken just over sixteen hours and she was fucked. Her plan was to sleep in the car-they had a two-hour drive to their next destination. They stepped up next to Paul and she bumped her hip into him to get his attention. He seemed to snap out of some deep reverie. He leaned forward absentmindedly and scooped up Jared's hot pink suitcase, adding it to his collection.
Jared came up beside him and rested his head on Paul's shoulder, staring up at him. "What's wrong, darling?" He inquired.
Paul shook his head and forced a smile. "Nothing," He lied. "I'm just waiting for my suitcase."
Jared wrapped an around Paul's neck and grinned. "You're nervous about seeing Eden again, aren't you?"
Paul turned on him, mouth agape. "N...no...not...not at all...wha...why would...no!"
Annie smirked. "Uh huh; and that amazingly articulate rebuttal just proves it."
Paul's features twisted into something that seemed like pain for the slightest second before his face turned red and he looked away. Maybe this wasn't a joking matter. Paul always had been very proper and restrained. Annie could never place him; during Jared's absence he had been a ghost. Did he not like woman? Did he not like being around them? He did mention once that he had been in love but that was the amount of detail he'd gone into. Had that love been Eden?
Jared gave him a sympathetic smile and kissed his cheek. "I'm just giving you shit, bud. I know how you feel. I'll stop if you want."
Paul huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's fine; I know you're just being playful but this is going to be stressful enough as it is."
Jared smiled sheepishly, knowing he was in the doghouse. "Sorry, mate. I'll leave you to it." He turned and motioned his head, telling Annie that they should give him some space. Annie leaned up and kissed Paul on the cheek before wiping it away with her thumb. She smiled at him-a sincere smile that said I'm here for you-then headed after Jared.
****
Paul stood at the carousel, mind drifting away from the task at hand. He did have feelings for Eden-he couldn't deny that-but he hadn't given his heart to anyone since his wife, whom he lost May 18, 1291. Paul hated this part. He winced as the memories came flooding back.
****
Paul stood with his fellow knight, staring out at the approaching army. Acre had fallen a week ago, but these knights had stayed to defend the remaining citizens. They had barricaded themselves in the Grand Temple, base for the Templar Knights, and defended it with a fury the likes the besieging Mumlak's had never seen before. Many were cut down by the furious knights and in the end terms of surrender had been made.
The knights knew death was their only exit and the opposing ruler, Sultan Al-Ashraf Khalil, knew these mighty knights would not give up without a brutal fight. They had created the perfect barricade within the temple that the attackers could not penetrate without meeting the end of a blade. Terms had been made to allow the knights to take their treasures and depart for Cyprus, unharmed; this was sworn by the word of God. The knights accepted and were waiting for the Marshall of their order, Pierre De Sevry to finish making plans for their exodus.
The approaching host of one hundred was headed by an Emir of the Mumlak's and they had been permitted to garrison the town as part of the terms. As they made their way into the city, a slender knight stepped up next to Paul and removed the bucket helm from their head. Long, brown hair tumbled down from its and glimmering green eyes looked over at him. A smile crossed the knights face.
"Why do you worry, husband?" She said.
Paul scratched his beard and tucked a lose gathering of brown hair behind his ear. "I worry, Sarra, that our enemy is within the walls. I do not trust these heathens to hold their word. They claim to honour by the word of God, yet my heart tells me they deceive us."
Sarra placed a hand on her husband's shoulder and smiled when he looked down at her. "God will protect us. You, me, our daughter...we will be fine. It won't be long before we are in Cyprus and there we can make a new life; maybe even buy passage back to England."
Paul smiled. He had more than enough riches saved up from this crusade; they could easily afford land and his favour with the King and position within the Order would be a boon to that. They could leave the order and settle down.
A voice broke Paul from his fantasy. "Thibaud!" The voice commanded. Paul's head snapped up and he saw a large, armoured man striding his way.
Paul raised a hand in salute and they embraced as he neared. "Pierre, is everything ready?"
The man nodded, holding a helm under his armpit. "Yes. We are ready to leave."
Paul turned to his wife and they shared a smile. It was nearly over. A sudden scream split the silence. The three knights turned towards town, where the enemy had finished its entry. Dark shapes scattered too and fro, screams rising up from their forms.
Sarra gasped. "They attack the people. Come, we must defend them!"
Without waiting for a response, she shoved her helm on, drew her sword and raced towards the city centre.
"Sarra!" Paul cried out. She didn't hear him.
Pierre pushed him forward. "Go aid her, brother. I will fetch the knights."
Paul drew his sword and raced after his wife.
****
Paul looked down as the bags moved around the carousel. His mind reeled from the flashbacks and he didn't even realise that the carousel had done three rotations. A scream to his left caught his attention. He looked over to see a woman jump into the arms of a man.
"Oh, baby, I missed you," She squealed.
Paul watched as they held each other and braced as the next flood of memories tore him apart.
****
Paul turned a corner to find Sarra standing before a group of Mumlak's. They all had their weapons raised and a naked, bloodied woman lay clinging to Sarra. A small, battered boy hudddled against a wall behind the Mumlaks, eyes darting around for a place to run to.
"Your Sultan promised safe passage!" Sarra screamed at them.
One of them, a heavy set, bearded man with scratches on his face stepped forward and spat at the ground, grimacing. "You and your knights were granted immunity. These-he pointed to the woman and the boy-are our spoils."
Sarra bared her teeth and pointed her sword accusingly at him. "You bastard. You would attack the innocent?"
The man growled at her as Paul stepped up beside her. "Sheathe your weapons and leave the citizens alone," He demanded. "By the name of God, your Sultan promised safety."
"Enough," The man spat. "You will leave us to our spoils and go back to your temple, coward."
The man stomped across the distance and tried to scoop up the woman. Sarra, with one swift motion, clove his head from his body. It fell to the sand, rolling twice before coming to a stop. The eyes looked in opposite directions, half rolled back and his mouth hung open as blood pooled beneath it.
The Mumlaks charged. The woman screamed. Steel clashed on steel and blood flowed. Sarra cut down seven of the men in a matter of minutes. She and Paul ended up back to back as more Mumlaks charged into the square. They were surrounded. The enemy closed in, many being cut down if they got too close.
"Get back!" Paul screamed as he thrust his sword into a mans neck.
"God will not forgive this treachery," Sarra cried. "God will..."
Paul looked over his shoulder to find out why she had stopped mid-sentence. She stood a few feet away from him, her sword through a mans stomach...his sword through her neck, having found its way into the small gap between her breastplate and helm. Cold ice flowed through Paul, his heart seizing in his chest.
"Sa...Sarra?"
She fell to her knees, sword clattering away from her. Paul fell next to her, catching her as she tumbled back. He tore the helm from her head and threw it away. Tears and blood flow from her freely and fear twisted her porcelain features into a horrid mask.
"Sarra...hold on, I will fetch the doctor."
Sarra reached up and stroked his face. "If God let these men harm the innocent, will he take me into his arms?"
Paul ran a hand through her hair as great sobs racked his body. "Of course. God waits for you in Heaven."
"I'm scared," Sarra coughed, blood oozing from her mouth. "take care of our daughter."
"Sarra," Paul sobbed. "Please don't go. I need you."
Her head drooped back, her eyes looked up; seeing nothing. Paul's entire world crumbled before his very eyes. He cried freely squeezing his wife against him.
The Mumlak's closed in around them, moving in for the kill. Tears flowed down Paul's check as the closet raised his sword. Screams broke out among the group and cries of pain rose into the air. Pierre had arrived with the other Templars. Rage overcame Paul. Fury like the fires of hell coursed through him. He lifted his sword and, with a feral scream that froze the blood of all who heard it, he charged into the enemy ranks, slicing down all in his path.
Paul stood at the entrance to the secret tunnel constructed by the Order for just this occasion. Pierre had sent the Orders treasures on ahead and stood with his solemn friend. Paul held a small bundle of blankets in his arms.
Pierre placed a hand on Paul's shoulder. "Thibaud, my friend, I am sorry about Sarra. She was a good woman and a fine knight of God. She is surely in his Kingdom."
Paul held the bundle close and closed his eyes, trying to push his grieve aside. "She should be here, holding our daughter, not lying in a pile of blood among the scum that fell here."
Pierre squeezed the mans shoulder and gently pushed him forward. "Go, the boats wait at the end of the tunnel. They will take you to Cyprus; from there, you may go as you please. I pray we will meet again, my brother. God be with you."
Paul sighed. "And also with you."
He headed down the tunnels as the sound of battle began to rise up from the city; with the terms of surrender broken, the Templar Knights had vowed to fight to the last man. As he hurried down the tunnel, the bundle began to cry. He held it close and gently rocked it up and down as tears rolled down his face and the hole in his heart stretched open.
****
Paul made his way through the crowd, bag slung over his shoulder and several suitcases dragging behind him. As he pushed his way towards the exit, a single tear rolled down his cheek.