The Tragedy of Men - Chapter Nine
Title The Tragedy of Men
Chapter: When the road runs out (9/9)
Author: smaragdbird
Summary: Joanna leaves before Richard can marry her to Saladin’s brother, Robin leads the charge into a village and the King of Jerusalem is elected
Pairings overall: Richard/Philip, Much/Thomas, allusion to Robin/Marian plus diverse historical married couples
Characters/Pairings in this chapter: Much, Robin, Thomas, Joanna, Guy de Lusignan, Richard
Rating: overall rating of NC-17
Spoilers/Warnings:overall warnings of detailed violence and torture
Disclaimer: Robin Hood belongs to BBC and not to me. Also I don’t make any money with this. It’s just for fun
Notes:Okay first a big, big thank you to both my beta-reader thymelady and my artistneaptidea. They have both done a more than incredible job especially in that short time. You are awesome guys, both of you :)
Second, I took a historical liberties with this fic: Richard and Philip didn’t arrive in Acre until summer 1191 but here I made them come to Acre in 1189 for dramatic purposes. Also I interpreted the historical characters in this story as it fit my purposes which I only say here in case one of you has seen Kingdom of Heaven and wonders why Guy de Lusignan is such a nice guy (although according to my textbooks and Wikipedia he wasn’t so bad ;)
Third, all Arabic in this fic comes from the phrase pages in an old travel guide. Feel open to point out any mistakes I made
Artwork, by neaptidea
Previous Chapter
The tragedy of men
When the road runs out
“Are you not going to follow Robin into the charge tonight?” Thomas asked. He was already dressed in chainmail and his surcoat.
“No, King Richard wants me to look after his sister tonight.”
“She’s a good match,” Thomas winked at him.
“Very funny.” Much carefully leaned Robin’s quiver against the table. “I hope we’re going to go home, soon. I mean, we did it, didn’t we? We took Acre.”
“No reason to stop. There’s going to be another battle,” Thomas grinned. “And another one after that and so on until we take back Jerusalem from the Saracens.”
“Don’t you ever think about going home?” Much asked. He missed home, missed Nottingham and Locksley, missed it more and more with every day he spent here, where it seemed that he waded through knee-deep blood all the time.
“I have next to nothing back there. Here, I am a knight, a hero, ‘Doom of the Grandmaster of the Hashshashin’.” His eyes softened slightly. “You are here.”
Much looked away. He didn’t like it when Thomas mentioned that. It was wrong, he knew that and Thomas knew that and only because they both chose not to acknowledge it didn’t mean that they wouldn’t be punished for it. Much didn’t want to go to hell, but he also didn’t know how he could ask forgiveness for what he and Thomas had done.
“I told you before, I have not much to go back to. Who knows, maybe I could even become Grandmaster.”
“You promised,” Much reminded him.
“I know and I intend to keep my promise.” Thomas looked around to make sure that no one was around and stole a kiss from Much.
“Here.” He pressed something into Much’s hand. “See it as a token.”
Much looked at his hand. Thomas had given him a long chain of wooden beads; one of the prayer chains the Saracen’s used.
“Where did you get that?”
“Took it from the corpse of an old man. He was the bailiff of a village south of here. He had a nice pair of daughters, but his son escaped and sold his sisters free.”
Much didn’t dare to ask for their names even though it was unlikely that Thomas would have known them. Instead he wound the chain around his wrist.
Thomas picked up his shield.
“I’ll be back for this,” he said on his way out, gesturing at his wrist.
///////////////////////////////////////
“You are leaving, Mylady?” Much asked when he came to Joanna’s quarters and found her and her handmaiden packing.
“Yes, “she replied determined. “I’m leaving with Philip in two days. Richard can marry me to whoever he wants as long as it is not another of those heathens.”
“I’m sure he never meant - ;“ but Joanna didn’t listen to him.
“I know him. The longer I stay here the more he’s going to like the idea until he goes through with it. If God is merciful, He will kill my brother and let me marry Philip,” she ranted. “The latter would actually be enough.” She threw her arms in the air. “But no, of course not. Why do the sensible thing? It’s amazing what sheer jealousy will have men do,” she huffed.
“I’m sorry, why did my brother send you?” she added.
“He said you would need some company tonight.”
“Really?” She looked amazed. “That’s new. On the other hand, he’s probably afraid that I will elope with someone.” She tilted her head at him. “Is your master still free?”
“He’s engaged.”
“Shame. What about you?” She laughed at Much’s confused face. “Sorry, I can’t seem to think straight tonight. Could you sing? That would probably calm me down.”
“Of course, Mylady.”
Shouting from the court let awoke them both in the early morning. As per Joanna’s request Much had stayed the whole night, singing whenever she had woken up until she fell asleep again.
“That’s my master,” Much said delighted. He looked at Joanna.
“Go,” she said with a smile.
///////////////////////////////////////
Richard was with them as well when Robin returned. He only came back with half of his men and most of them were carrying their fallen comrades on stretchers between them, Thomas corpse ahead of them.
“Robin...” Richard sounded like he needed to find control over his own voice while Much couldn’t believe his own eyes. “What happened?”
“I... there was...” Robin took a deep breath, for the first time he seemed to struggle with words. The other soldiers behind him exchanged glances; some of them bordering on hateful but no one said a word.
“It’s a long story, Your Majesty,” Robin said wearily.
“Of course, most battle stories are,” Richard forced a smile. “But I’m afraid we won’t have time for this. Philip called in the Council of Nobles to settle the succession issue today and he’s eager to leave. I need you to come with me, Robin. We can exchange battle stories later.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. Just one moment, please.” Richard looked from Robin to Thomas’ body and Much and nodded. “Of course.”
“Much, I’m sorry about Thomas,” Robin began but Much blinked away any possibly forming tears and gave him his bright, fake smile again.
“At least you made it back, Master. We’ve seen these things happen before.”
“Yes, we have,” Robin said quietly while looking at Much with sad, concerned eyes. He laid a hand on Much’s shoulder and pulled him into an embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again. Much stayed in Robin’s embrace for as long as he could stand it before he withdrew. “You need to go, master. The King waits for you,” Much reminded him.
“I’m so sorry, Much. It shouldn’t have happened like this.”
“Go, master!” Much pushed him lightly away. “I will take care of this.”
“Sir,” one of the soldiers approached Much. “Lord Locksley said that we should prepare the body to bring him home.”
“Of course,” Much felt strangely hollow and unattached; “Do as he said.”
He wandered down to the shore, staring at the horizon where the sun was sinking. He knew that England, home, vaguely lay in that direction and suddenly he was so overcome with homesickness that he begun to shake. But there were no tears.
“I thought he would be the next Grandmaster!” Much was surprised to see Guy de Lusignan standing behind him.
“Shouldn’t you be in the castle, Mylord?” Much asked but de Lusignan shook his head. “I already know how they will decide. I also know what I’m going to get as recompense. Were you ever on Cyprus?” he asked but answered his own question. “Of course you were, Richard conquered the bloody island.”
“They have very good food there,” Much offered and got a small smile from de Lusignan for his effort. He kicked a few pebbles into the sea.
“How can you know what they will decide when they haven’t done it yet?” Much asked after a while.
“Because Sybilla married me twice against the wishes of every other noble in this country, including her family,” de Lusignan stepped nearer. “It is fine to cry for a friend, especially one who died for something so petty.”
“What do you mean?” Much asked. de Lusignan gave him a side glance but answered. “Nothing.”
“I’m not crying,” Much said eventually. “I’m laughing on the wrong side of my face.”
///////////////////////////////////////
In that night Much was woken up not by nightmares but by the noise of a skirmish and Robin’s frantic. “Much! Much!”
It was the April of 1192 and Conrad de Montferrat, the newly elected King of Jerusalem, would die in two days by the hands of two Hashshashins.
Much and Robin would return to England five months after Isabella’s third marriage to Richard’s nephew Henry of Champagne and later King of Jerusalem, while King Richard continued his quest to re-establish the Kingdom of Jerusalem with its name giving capital.
Chapter: When the road runs out (9/9)
Author: smaragdbird
Summary: Joanna leaves before Richard can marry her to Saladin’s brother, Robin leads the charge into a village and the King of Jerusalem is elected
Pairings overall: Richard/Philip, Much/Thomas, allusion to Robin/Marian plus diverse historical married couples
Characters/Pairings in this chapter: Much, Robin, Thomas, Joanna, Guy de Lusignan, Richard
Rating: overall rating of NC-17
Spoilers/Warnings:overall warnings of detailed violence and torture
Disclaimer: Robin Hood belongs to BBC and not to me. Also I don’t make any money with this. It’s just for fun
Notes:Okay first a big, big thank you to both my beta-reader thymelady and my artistneaptidea. They have both done a more than incredible job especially in that short time. You are awesome guys, both of you :)
Second, I took a historical liberties with this fic: Richard and Philip didn’t arrive in Acre until summer 1191 but here I made them come to Acre in 1189 for dramatic purposes. Also I interpreted the historical characters in this story as it fit my purposes which I only say here in case one of you has seen Kingdom of Heaven and wonders why Guy de Lusignan is such a nice guy (although according to my textbooks and Wikipedia he wasn’t so bad ;)
Third, all Arabic in this fic comes from the phrase pages in an old travel guide. Feel open to point out any mistakes I made
Artwork, by neaptidea
Previous Chapter
The tragedy of men
When the road runs out
“Are you not going to follow Robin into the charge tonight?” Thomas asked. He was already dressed in chainmail and his surcoat.
“No, King Richard wants me to look after his sister tonight.”
“She’s a good match,” Thomas winked at him.
“Very funny.” Much carefully leaned Robin’s quiver against the table. “I hope we’re going to go home, soon. I mean, we did it, didn’t we? We took Acre.”
“No reason to stop. There’s going to be another battle,” Thomas grinned. “And another one after that and so on until we take back Jerusalem from the Saracens.”
“Don’t you ever think about going home?” Much asked. He missed home, missed Nottingham and Locksley, missed it more and more with every day he spent here, where it seemed that he waded through knee-deep blood all the time.
“I have next to nothing back there. Here, I am a knight, a hero, ‘Doom of the Grandmaster of the Hashshashin’.” His eyes softened slightly. “You are here.”
Much looked away. He didn’t like it when Thomas mentioned that. It was wrong, he knew that and Thomas knew that and only because they both chose not to acknowledge it didn’t mean that they wouldn’t be punished for it. Much didn’t want to go to hell, but he also didn’t know how he could ask forgiveness for what he and Thomas had done.
“I told you before, I have not much to go back to. Who knows, maybe I could even become Grandmaster.”
“You promised,” Much reminded him.
“I know and I intend to keep my promise.” Thomas looked around to make sure that no one was around and stole a kiss from Much.
“Here.” He pressed something into Much’s hand. “See it as a token.”
Much looked at his hand. Thomas had given him a long chain of wooden beads; one of the prayer chains the Saracen’s used.
“Where did you get that?”
“Took it from the corpse of an old man. He was the bailiff of a village south of here. He had a nice pair of daughters, but his son escaped and sold his sisters free.”
Much didn’t dare to ask for their names even though it was unlikely that Thomas would have known them. Instead he wound the chain around his wrist.
Thomas picked up his shield.
“I’ll be back for this,” he said on his way out, gesturing at his wrist.
///////////////////////////////////////
“You are leaving, Mylady?” Much asked when he came to Joanna’s quarters and found her and her handmaiden packing.
“Yes, “she replied determined. “I’m leaving with Philip in two days. Richard can marry me to whoever he wants as long as it is not another of those heathens.”
“I’m sure he never meant - ;“ but Joanna didn’t listen to him.
“I know him. The longer I stay here the more he’s going to like the idea until he goes through with it. If God is merciful, He will kill my brother and let me marry Philip,” she ranted. “The latter would actually be enough.” She threw her arms in the air. “But no, of course not. Why do the sensible thing? It’s amazing what sheer jealousy will have men do,” she huffed.
“I’m sorry, why did my brother send you?” she added.
“He said you would need some company tonight.”
“Really?” She looked amazed. “That’s new. On the other hand, he’s probably afraid that I will elope with someone.” She tilted her head at him. “Is your master still free?”
“He’s engaged.”
“Shame. What about you?” She laughed at Much’s confused face. “Sorry, I can’t seem to think straight tonight. Could you sing? That would probably calm me down.”
“Of course, Mylady.”
Shouting from the court let awoke them both in the early morning. As per Joanna’s request Much had stayed the whole night, singing whenever she had woken up until she fell asleep again.
“That’s my master,” Much said delighted. He looked at Joanna.
“Go,” she said with a smile.
///////////////////////////////////////
Richard was with them as well when Robin returned. He only came back with half of his men and most of them were carrying their fallen comrades on stretchers between them, Thomas corpse ahead of them.
“Robin...” Richard sounded like he needed to find control over his own voice while Much couldn’t believe his own eyes. “What happened?”
“I... there was...” Robin took a deep breath, for the first time he seemed to struggle with words. The other soldiers behind him exchanged glances; some of them bordering on hateful but no one said a word.
“It’s a long story, Your Majesty,” Robin said wearily.
“Of course, most battle stories are,” Richard forced a smile. “But I’m afraid we won’t have time for this. Philip called in the Council of Nobles to settle the succession issue today and he’s eager to leave. I need you to come with me, Robin. We can exchange battle stories later.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. Just one moment, please.” Richard looked from Robin to Thomas’ body and Much and nodded. “Of course.”
“Much, I’m sorry about Thomas,” Robin began but Much blinked away any possibly forming tears and gave him his bright, fake smile again.
“At least you made it back, Master. We’ve seen these things happen before.”
“Yes, we have,” Robin said quietly while looking at Much with sad, concerned eyes. He laid a hand on Much’s shoulder and pulled him into an embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again. Much stayed in Robin’s embrace for as long as he could stand it before he withdrew. “You need to go, master. The King waits for you,” Much reminded him.
“I’m so sorry, Much. It shouldn’t have happened like this.”
“Go, master!” Much pushed him lightly away. “I will take care of this.”
“Sir,” one of the soldiers approached Much. “Lord Locksley said that we should prepare the body to bring him home.”
“Of course,” Much felt strangely hollow and unattached; “Do as he said.”
He wandered down to the shore, staring at the horizon where the sun was sinking. He knew that England, home, vaguely lay in that direction and suddenly he was so overcome with homesickness that he begun to shake. But there were no tears.
“I thought he would be the next Grandmaster!” Much was surprised to see Guy de Lusignan standing behind him.
“Shouldn’t you be in the castle, Mylord?” Much asked but de Lusignan shook his head. “I already know how they will decide. I also know what I’m going to get as recompense. Were you ever on Cyprus?” he asked but answered his own question. “Of course you were, Richard conquered the bloody island.”
“They have very good food there,” Much offered and got a small smile from de Lusignan for his effort. He kicked a few pebbles into the sea.
“How can you know what they will decide when they haven’t done it yet?” Much asked after a while.
“Because Sybilla married me twice against the wishes of every other noble in this country, including her family,” de Lusignan stepped nearer. “It is fine to cry for a friend, especially one who died for something so petty.”
“What do you mean?” Much asked. de Lusignan gave him a side glance but answered. “Nothing.”
“I’m not crying,” Much said eventually. “I’m laughing on the wrong side of my face.”
///////////////////////////////////////
In that night Much was woken up not by nightmares but by the noise of a skirmish and Robin’s frantic. “Much! Much!”
It was the April of 1192 and Conrad de Montferrat, the newly elected King of Jerusalem, would die in two days by the hands of two Hashshashins.
Much and Robin would return to England five months after Isabella’s third marriage to Richard’s nephew Henry of Champagne and later King of Jerusalem, while King Richard continued his quest to re-establish the Kingdom of Jerusalem with its name giving capital.