Episode 3X04 "The Lion's Heart" Part 2
Happy New Year! Here's part two, in which we find our intrepid heroes fall further into trouble.
Scene: The Road to Jerusalem
Night is falling as the Templars, the pilgrims and our heroes stop to build a campsite. The Templars tend to their horses as the pilgrims collect firewood, and Djaq, Will, Allan and Luke prepare their bedrolls. Together they gather together a pile of wood and spread out their meagre supplies for dinner. They’re situated well outside the protective circle of Templars that have gathered around the pilgrims, but sit in close together, watching the flames and sharing the food.
Will: Do you think we should risk asking the Templars where the King is?
Djaq: There is a good chance they don’t know themselves.
Allan: Besides, we don’t want to look too interested. We’re getting enough attention as it is.
They glance over at the pilgrims just in time to see nearly half of them quickly looking away again, having been surreptitiously watching the quartet. A couple of them cross themselves. Only an old woman, almost as shrouded as Djaq, still watches them with eyes that glint in the firelight.
Luke: Friendly bunch.
Will: Still…we’re not going to get far if we can’t ask for basic information.
Djaq: We might be able to ask Sir Baldwin tomorrow. He seems a good man.
Allan: Not the others though.
Luke: Yeah, especially not that one.
He nods at the temperamental knight gatekeeper of the day before (who will henceforth be known as Sir Joseph). Once again, he’s sharpening his sword.
Will: (to Allan) What were you saying to him this afternoon?
Allan: Huh?
Will: When we joined the pilgrimage. You and he spoke.
Allan: Oh, ‘e was just tryin’ to charge us for ‘is services. Don’t worry, I sorted ‘im out.
Will: (suspiciously) How?
Allan rolls his eyes and sighs, sick and tired of Will’s attitude.
Allan: Look mate, you’re just gonna have to trust me. I told ‘im that ‘e was a Templar an’ ‘is job was to get us there safely, no strings attached.
In the darkness, Djaq has quietly laid a hand on Will’s knee, and he falls silent. Allan turns sullenly back to the fire.
Luke: (innocently) What is fire, anyway? I mean, look at it. What makes it burn like that?
The others are silent, definitely not in the mood for such musings. As darkness grows, everyone begins to settle down, eating quietly or lying down on their bedrolls. In the heat Djaq has taken off her veil and is using it as a fan.
Everyone reacts at the sudden noise of approach on the road. The Templars get to their feet and draw their swords and the pilgrims shift nervously. The quartet tense for whatever might emerge from the darkness, but what appears is simply another group of pilgrims, heading back toward Acre. Everyone relaxes, and Sir Baldwin invites the newcomers to join the others at the fire.
The quartet settle back down, glancing at each other in relief, the tension diffused. A ragged cheer goes up from the other campfire when the pilgrims realize that the newcomers have fresh supplies with them, and Allan groans longingly at the sight of the food getting passed around. Djaq shushes him, wanting to listen in on the conversation.
A monk in a grey robe and hood who seems to be in charge of the little group is speaking with Sir Baldwin.
Monk: Just returned from the Holy City, but we lost five coming back over the desert.
Baldwin: Bedouin?
The monk nods.
Baldwin: Dead?
Monk: Two dead. Three were taken. They’re getting bolder.
Baldwin nods seriously, staring out into the night.
Baldwin: I don’t think pilgrims should be making this journey.
Monk: They want to see the Holy City. Before their King destroys it.
Baldwin gives him a little warning hiss, and if you didn’t know monks any better, you’d swear that this one rolled his eyes in response. In doing so, his gaze falls on the quartet, and he cocks his head with curiosity. They quickly turn back to their own campfire, having clearly been caught eavesdropping. The monk hides a smile and draws a large pouch from his robes before approaching them.
Monk: May I offer a trade? Some dried meat for a place by the fire?
The foursome glance at each other and then nod. Will gestures for the monk to sit down, and Djaq hurriedly adjusts her veil so her face is shrouded. Allan rubs his hands together eagerly as the monk opens the pouch and distributes the food. As he nods at each one, he reacts with surprise at the sight of a Saracen woman among them, and looks back at the larger group of pilgrims, realizing why they are seated apart.
Will: My name’s Will, and this is my brother Luke. This is Allan, our…friend.
The monk looks meaningfully at Djaq, who remains silent. Will is not forthcoming either, but sensing the awkwardness, Allan gestures to her.
Allan: (quietly) Djaq.
The monk nods at her respectfully.
Monk: My name is Brother Tuck.
Tuck is perhaps in his early fifties, with a bit of a pot-belly and swarthy skin that’s been darkened by the sun. His eyes are as black as his hair, and his sandals look as though they’re falling apart with use.
Tuck: If you don’t mind me saying, you are an unusual assortment of travellers. What takes you to Jerusalem?
His gaze lingers over Djaq.
Will: Just pilgrims.
Allan decides to be a little friendlier.
Allan: Like you said, we want to see the Holy City while it still stands. You been there recently, I gather?
Tuck: Escorting pilgrims. Or rather, guiding them. It is not only bodies that need nurturing on journeys such as this.
Allan nods, pretending to understand him.
Allan: Right. And how long ago did you leave?
Tuck: Going on four weeks. It’s difficult passage through the desert. Especially with the Bedouin roaming the sands.
Allan: Yeah, I heard you mention ‘em. (he clears his throat, realizing that he’s admitted to eavesdropping) I mean…who are the Bedouins?
He doesn’t notice that beside him, Djaq has wound a corner of her veil tightly around her finger. Only Will sees her agitation, and reaches out hesitantly.
Tuck: The Bedouins are desert-dwelling Arabs. A wandering people, very dangerous. They ambush travellers crossing the desert and disappear back into the sands without trace.
Djaq mutters a quiet word:
Djaq: Slavers.
Tuck: Indeed.
Allan: And there’s a whole bunch of ‘em between us and Jerusalem? Great.
Tuck: You’re safer in a large group. And the presence of Templars will do much to dissuade them.
Allan doesn’t look particularly convinced, and throws a twig on the fire.
Djaq leans over and whispers something to Will. Tuck watches this exchange with interest, and listens politely as Will asks:
Will: Any news of King Richard?
Tuck: I’ve heard rumours that he tires of war. The last I heard of him he was sending his envoys to Yazur.
Will: (uncertainly) Yazur?
Tuck: Yes, he was exchanging letters with the Sultan’s forces in the hope that they could arrange a peace settlement.
The quartet suddenly perk up.
Tuck: I’m afraid this is not news. It happened over a year and a half ago. And Richard’s olive branch consisted of making a rather ridiculous proposition. He offered up his sister Joanna in marriage to the Sultan’s brother.
The boys react to this with mild astonishment, but Djaq jerks upright.
Tuck: His idea was that their marriage would allow Jerusalem to be split evenly between them, and their children to rule a republic that was tolerant to both faiths.
Djaq makes a small, rather incomprehensible noise. Is it disgust? Will gives her an uncertain glance, then turns back to Tuck.
Will: Why was that so bad?
Allan: Yeah, seems a great idea to me.
Djaq speaks for the first time, and Tuck’s eyes widen in interest at the realization that she can speak English.
Djaq: The Qua’ran forbids marriage with an unbeliever.
Will: Oh…
Tuck: It all fell through anyway. Lady Joanna swore on all that is holy that she would never marry a Muslim, and the delegations failed. I can only assume that the Lionheart has his sights set on conquering Jerusalem by force.
The four settle into silence once more, looking despondent.
Allan: That’s all you know?
Tuck: I do not linger in this country. I have travelled far, but now I am bound home, for England. It is my wish to seek out the famed Robin Hood.
The name flashes like an arrow among those gathered at the campfire. Luke glances at the others worriedly as their hands drift toward their weapons.
Allan: (darkly) Fancy that.
Tuck blinks, uncertain as to what he’s said that’s caused such a reaction.
Tuck: Surely you’ve heard of Robin Hood. I believe he was the former Earl of Huntington until his lands and estates were seized. Now he fights for the interests of the people. I want nothing more than to lend my services to him. He’s renowned even here in the Holy Land. You sure you haven’t heard of him?
Allan: We’ve ‘eard of ‘im.
Djaq nudges him sharply, and Tuck picks up on the mounting suspicion. He raises his hands placatingly.
Tuck: I can see that you are all weary. Please, enjoy the food. It was offered in friendship.
He stands and heads back to his own group. In his wake, the four settle down again.
Luke: What was that about? Do you think he knows who we are?
Will: Could just be a coincidence.
Allan: Pretty big coincidence.
From the other campfire, someone begins to cough. It gets steadily worse until it sounds like a hacking fit, and the quartet look up in alarm. Sir Baldwin is leaning over, a comrade trying to offer him a cup of water. He waves it away and continues to gasp for breath. Djaq gets to her feet, takes a pouch of herbs from her belt and hurries over. The boys hesitate and Will partially gets up, unsure whether or not to follow her. They don’t want to cause a scene. From their point of view they watch as Djaq approaches Baldwin and takes gentle control over the situation; seating him down and guiding a cloth to his mouth for him to cough into. In a few moments he quietens down, and the scene closes in on the two of them as she helps him to his bunk.
Baldwin: (in Arabic, subtitled) Thank you.
She pours the herbs into his cup of water and swishes it around.
Djaq: Try to drink this slowly. It should help.
Baldwin: It’s an old problem. Gets worse in the evenings.
Djaq: In the morning I can check your lungs. But for now, sleep is the best medicine.
Baldwin: (with a dry laugh) Don’t I know it. It’s this godforsaken heat.
He blinks and realizes what he’s said.
Baldwin: No offence meant, my lady.
She smiles a little at his discomfort.
Djaq: The heat does take getting used to. I wonder how it is that you speak my language so well. You must have been here a long time.
Baldwin: Oh, I’ve been here long enough. I’ve forgotten what an English lake looks like.
Djaq: Why do you not go home?
Baldwin: I came to serve King Richard.
He sounds a little disconsolate about it.
Djaq: Perhaps this war will soon draw to a close.
Baldwin: Perhaps.
Djaq: If Richard takes Jerusalem, then there is no reason for him to stay.
Baldwin nods thoughtfully, and Djaq takes her chance.
Djaq: Where is Richard now, do you suppose? Where did he go after the siege of Acre?
Baldwin: Last I heard he was headed for Jerusalem. Isn’t that where everyone goes? The naval of the world. How far away he is, I have no idea. But there’s a hospital on the way to Jerusalem. We always stop by to drop off supplies. It’s where all the injured soldiers are sent. Perhaps they’ll know.
Djaq nods thoughtfully.
Djaq: (in English) We will talk more in the morning. I may be able to help with your cough.
She returns to the boys, but from the shadows she is watched by Tuck, wrapped up in his blankets.
Scene: Campsite, Morning
A scream of fright rips through the morning air, and all four companions leap up from their bedrolls. A woman is standing over Baldwin, and as the rest of the gathering awakens, it becomes clear that the man is dead. The quartet hustle over to watch as a Templar rolls Baldwin over. His eyes are glassy, his face pale, and he gazes sightlessly at the sky. There is a dribble of blood out the corner of his mouth.
The woman who discovered him is still screaming in shock, and the Templars are talking angrily over each other. Inevitably, it doesn’t take long for suspicious glares to be pointed at Djaq.
Beggar Woman: She gave him something to drink last night!
Man: She’s poisoned him!
Will: That was only water! She took it from the same wineskin that everyone was drinking from!
Luke watches with wide eyes whilst Will nudges Djaq behind him, his sword drawn. The colour has drained from Allan’s face, and he moves his hand across his body, as though checking his pockets. He finds what he’s looking for, and regains some measure of composure before drawing his sword upon those nearing Djaq.
Sir Joseph: You did this. Why?
Will: She didn’t do anything. She’s a medic, she was trying to help him.
Joseph laughs derisively at this, his own sword drawn.
Joseph: Why is he dead, then?
The Templars approach, their weapons at the ready, the pilgrims milling behind them. A heavily out-numbered fight seems imminent. It is at that stage that Tuck steps in, positioning his hefty weight between the opposing sides.
Tuck: Brothers, brothers, stop! The spilling of innocent blood is not what God expects of pilgrims and knights.
Joseph: God demands justice for the murder of our comrade!
Tuck: Murder? Nonsense. The man had a disease of the lungs, you heard him say so himself!
Templar: Baldwin did cough every night.
Pilgrim: But he didn’t die until she tended him.
Tuck: Let me look at the body. I have medical training myself. Perhaps I can discern the cause of death.
Djaq has retreated back to the quartet’s campfire, still shrouded in veils and remaining completely silent. As though she can’t understand what’s going on, she goes about packing up their equipment, utterly nonchalant. However, from her posture you can tell that she’s ready to leap to her own defence at a moment’s notice. Allan and Will hover over Tuck as he examines Baldwin’s body. The pilgrims and Templars glower at Djaq, though Luke stands protectively next to her.
Tuck sighs and looks up at the expectant faces.
Tuck: There’s no sign of any poison. No discolouration, no swelling. He simply died in the night.
Pilgrim: No one just dies in the night.
Tuck: Of course they do! God takes when He is ready, and He can be ready at a moment’s notice. Though in this case, I’m lead to understand that this is not wholly unexpected. How long had he been complaining of a cough?
The knight who spoke earlier, who clearly doesn’t want trouble, speaks up:
Knight: For months. He spoke of chest pains too.
Tuck: There you have it. This is not the work of a human enemy, but the natural end of a mortal life.
But the pilgrims are not so easily placated.
Man: We’re not travelling with her any more. She’s cursed this pilgrimage!
Beggar Woman: It was always bad luck to travel with a Saracen.
Will’s temper is clearly fraying; his eyes have gone black and his face red. Once again, Tuck steps in and addresses the more reasonable-looking Templars.
Tuck: You cannot accuse her without any proof, and you’re wasting time looking for a crime when there isn’t one. Sir Baldwin deserves a proper burial.
Joseph: You have no authority here, old man.
Tuck: My authority? I act on behalf of God, as should the Knight of the Templar.
Knight: He’s right Joseph, why are you always trying to pick a fight? Let’s put Sir Baldwin to rest in peace.
There is another moment of tension, with each group sizing up the other, Tuck positioned in the middle. Then with a sneer, Joseph sheaths his sword and turns back to the body and the pilgrims.
Scene: Copse off the Side of the Road
A small burial is taking place with Tuck overseeing the lowering of the body into the grave, intoning the last rites. Djaq wisely stands well apart from the ceremony, and once the grave is filled and Baldwin’s white and red shield laid over the mound, the pilgrims disperse.
Back at the campsite, everyone’s belongings are beginning to get packed up, though angry glances are still being cast at Djaq. The quartet are talking among themselves, but when they hesitantly head toward the larger group, Joseph blocks their way.
Joseph: What do you think you’re doing? You’re not coming with us.
Will: You can’t stop us.
Joseph: Yes I can. You’re not welcome on this pilgrimage. If we see you following us, we’ll consider you a threat.
He pats the hilt of his sword for emphasis.
Joseph: It was a mistake to bring a Saracen along.
Allan: Fine, do what you like, but you ain’t gettin’ paid.
Joseph smirks at him.
Joseph: I don’t need your trinkets anymore.
Will: Fine, go on without us.
Joseph: That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day.
He turns and heads back to the pilgrimage, departing on foot and on horseback. Will glares after him and then turns to Allan.
Will: What did he mean by that?
Allan: No idea. Doesn’t seem like the sort of man to walk away from easy extortion, Saracen or not.
Will: No, I mean he said trinkets, like he had something specific in mind. Did you offer him something?
Allan: Just my boots.
He turns away without another word to rejoin Djaq, finishing up the packing. Tuck is preparing his own - much smaller group - to leave, and Djaq watches the Templars leave with darkness in her eyes. As Tuck approaches to say goodbye, she yanks off her veil in frustration.
Will: It’s not your fault.
Luke: Yeah, we don’t want to travel with them anyway.
Djaq: This journey just got ten times more dangerous.
Tuck: Perhaps I can offer some advice…
Djaq turns to face him and Tuck sees her face clearly for the first time. His reaction is extraordinary. His jaw drops open and he just stares at her in shock. Allan shifts uncomfortably and Will begins to frown. Even Djaq is self-conscious, and her hand wavers on the edge of her veil, unsure whether to conceal her face again or not. It’s not like Tuck is a Muslim, and yet he seems gob-smacked at the sight of a Saracen woman’s face. He blinks and shakes his head, composing himself. Allan peers at him intently, he and Will either side of Djaq.
Allan: You were saying?
Tuck: Oh, I er…I was going to suggest. It may be advantageous if you men disguise yourselves as Saracens. It won’t guarantee your safety against the Bedouins, but they are less likely to attack their own people when there are Crusaders crossing the desert. From a distance, you might just get away with it.
Djaq nods warily.
Djaq: I’ve brought supplies for such a necessity.
Tuck: Good. I recommend using them.
He falls silent, staring at her - no longer shocked, but in deep concentration. When Will clears his throat pointedly, Tuck shakes himself back to attention.
Tuck: Ahem. I wanted to tell you, before you left…
He beckons them in closer.
Tuck: About Sir Baldwin…his death may not have been as natural as I led the Templars to believe.
The others lean in closely.
Tuck: Last night I was half-asleep. I’m sure I saw someone approach Sir Baldwin as he slept. I heard the slosh of water, as though someone was meddling with the drink that you (he nods at Djaq) gave him before he slept.
Djaq: Why did you not say this earlier?
Tuck: I would not see the four of you harmed.
Djaq: (testing him further) And how do you know it was not me who tampered with Baldwin’s drink?
Allan nudges her, shocked that she’s suggesting such a thing.
Tuck: Because the man I saw was only a shadow, but most certainly a man and not a slight Saracen woman.
Djaq nods, accepting this.
Will: Why would someone want Sir Baldwin dead?
Djaq: (quietly) I was going to speak with him this morning. Try and help him with his cough.
Tuck: You know of medicine?
Djaq: From my father.
Tuck nods, but there is an immense weight to that nod, as though he’s just learnt something profound.
Allan: Might ‘ave nothing to do with us. Might ‘ave just been imaginin’ things.
Tuck nods in acquiescence.
Tuck: Perhaps. I just felt…you deserved a warning. I feel that perhaps the four of you are not usual pilgrims.
They stare back at him, acknowledging his statement, but perhaps a little exasperated that it’s so obvious. Then Djaq lifts her wrist and removes one of her bracelets.
Djaq: Do you really wish to help Robin Hood?
Tuck: Yes. I do.
Djaq: Then take this. If you are searching for Robin Hood, then he will recognise this. He trusts easily, but he’s protective of his people and the camp. If you find him, you’ll need assurances. Tell him that Safiyah gave it to you and that she still carries her father’s sword. He’ll know what it means, and he’ll accept you.
Tuck takes the little token almost reverently and nods at her.
Tuck: Good luck. Perhaps we’ll meet again.
He turns to Will, designating him as the leader of this little band, and moves his hand in a blessing over his head.
Tuck: Remember, all of you. What’s important in Jerusalem is what’s in your heart.
With a last look at each of them - especially Djaq - he turns and heads back to his own group of people, steering them out toward the dusty road and away.
Luke: That…was strange.
Djaq shakes her head, clearing her mind.
Djaq: Strange or not, he’s right. Disguising ourselves would be a good idea. Follow me.
She leads them back to the smouldering campfire and stirs it back to life with a stick. The boys crouch around Djaq as she opens a drawstring pouch and pours a collection of walnuts into the pot of water that hangs over the fire.
Allan: We’re having walnuts for dinner?
Djaq: Not exactly. It’s the dye we’re after.
Allan: The dye?
Djaq: To darken your skin? You can’t expect to travel through enemy territory as white as a mushroom, do you? Though come to think of it, you’re as brown as a nut. It’s you two that need this most of all.
She nods at the Scarlett brothers and then pulls some extra clothing out of her backpack.
Djaq: You are not going to like this part, but I feel it is safer if we travel as a family unit. Here, put these on. The abaya goes over your clothes, the burqua covers your face. We will be a Saracen merchant and his two wives.
She hands out two garments and their matching head-scarves.
Luke: Two wives?
Djaq: Yes, you and Will. With a turban, I can still pass as a man.
Will: What about Allan?
Djaq: His shoulders are too broad. He could never pass as a woman.
Allan looks rather smug at this.
Djaq: If we come across Englishmen, then Allan will explain that he’s crossing the desert to Jerusalem, with me as his guide and my two wives in tow. If we pass Saracens, then the story is that I’m escorting him to King Richard’s encampment. No Saracen would dare speak to another man’s wife, so if we cross paths with any of my people there is no danger that you would give yourself away through speech.
Luke seems quite happy to throw on the new clothing, though Will is considerably less keen. Taking pity on him, Djaq helps arrange the burqua over his face.
Djaq: (trying to make a joke) It seems we are married again.
Will: Not quite what I had in mind. Do women really have to wear this thing in public?
He fusses with the heavy shroud over his face.
Djaq: Yes. A woman’s hair must be kept hidden. It is for her husband’s eyes only, and seeing it might give other men impure thoughts.
Allan: (stirring the walnuts, but listening in) It’s not your hair that gives men…never mind.
He begins stirring the pot a little faster.
Djaq: I just want you three to appreciate the danger we face. We are about to leave English populated territory and enter the desert. If the heat doesn’t get you, then the Bedouin will.
Allan: Yeah, just who are these guys, exactly?
Djaq is quiet for a moment, then steels herself.
Djaq: They are the men that sold me as a slave. They are the reason I ever set foot on English soil.
The three of them are sober for a few moments, but Djaq claps her hands to snap them out of it.
Djaq: It is the past now. Our goal is the hospital on the other side of the desert. From what Baldwin told me, it is situated near the oasis. Perhaps we will get word of the King there, or of Carter. We will have to ration our water carefully. And if there is any sign of the Bedouin, any at all, then do not hesitate. Our only chance will be to kill them before they can kill us.
She looks at each of them in turn and they nod solemnly back. Luke and Will have concealed their swords under their abayas, and Djaq gestures for the pot of the walnut juice. Allan hauls it over, and dipping her hand into it, she begins to gently rub the thick substance into Will’s face, turning the pale skin around his eyes into a dark shade of copper. Beside them, Allan does the same to Luke, though with considerable less gentleness. Once the dye has been rubbed in and the disguises in place to Djaq’s satisfaction, they head to the sandy road that leads to the desert. As they go, Djaq glances upwards into a scrawny tree that lines the road, noticing that a pigeon is perched there.
Scene: Desert
The four travellers look pitifully small as they cross the great expanse of desert on their way to Jerusalem. The sun beats down from above, and the Scarlett boys are looking distinctly uncomfortable in their burquas, though even Djaq doesn’t seem to have acclimatised back to her native country yet. They pass around a water flask as they walk, and Djaq keeps a careful eye on how much they are drinking as she coaches them mercilessly on their Arabic.
Allan stands still for a moment, flings his head back and recites an Arabic phrase. Djaq thwacks him around the back of the head.
Djaq: Do not drop the “r”. That is the most important part.
Allan: Ow!
Djaq: Will, continue.
Will screws up his face and tries out the phrase for himself, with considerably less skill than Allan. Djaq shakes her head and repeats it slowly for him.
Allan: Hey, how come he doesn’t get biffed on the back of the ‘ead?
Will looks a little smug.
Djaq: Because he is not as good at this as you are.
Will’s smile fades and Allan assumes his smug expression.
Djaq: Luke, stop looking at the ground.
Luke: I was just wondering what lizards drink in the desert.
Djaq: (a bit titchy) All eyes should be on the horizon.
Will and Allan exchange sidelong glances, picking up on just how tense Djaq really is. Will clears his throat.
Will: I can’t see anyone…
Djaq: No one does. Not until they are already on top of you.
To this, all three men begin to stare up at the sand dunes. The sand dunes stare ominously back.
Djaq: Your turn Luke.
Luke closes his eyes and repeats the phrase. Djaq nods in approval.
Luke: The only problem is, I have no idea what I just said.
Djaq: (with an eye roll) Never mind. Most of the time Englishmen do not seem to know what they are saying in their own language.
Allan: Amen to that.
Djaq: Well, exactly. Do you even know what that word means?
Allan: What…amen?
Djaq: Yes.
Allan: Er…
Luke: It’s what you say when you’re finished praying.
Djaq: Yes, but what does it mean?
The three men look at each other, baffled.
Djaq: “Amen” is in the language of the Jews. It means “truth”. You say it at the end of a prayer because you are meant to be agreeing with whatever you have beseeched your God for.
Will: I never knew that…
Allan: ‘Ow come she knows more about us lot than we do ourselves?
Will: She was just born that way. A know-it-all.
Allan: Completely insufferable.
Djaq gives a little “huff” at their teasing, but for the first time Will and Allan share a smile.
Djaq: Allah give me strength.
Luke: Allah of the Ninety-Nine Beautiful Names.
Djaq blinks and then beams at him.
Djaq: That is right. Well done.
Allan: Ninety-Nine Beautiful Names. (to Djaq) You’ve got two beautiful names, how many till you catch up with the Almighty?
Djaq looks away with wry smile. Will’s good humour fades.
Will: (through clenched teeth) Ninety-seven.
Luke: Djaq has two names?
Allan: Yeah, and no last name. How weird is that?
Djaq is on the verge of laughter herself, when something ahead of them catches her eye. Instantly her smile fades and she holds out of her hand to stop the others. On the road ahead is a dark, motionless mound. As they get closer, the sound of flies begins to grow, and the travellers pull their veils tighter over their faces as the smell grows.
Djaq: It is the pilgrims.
Horror-stricken, the three of them look over the slaughtered pilgrims and Templars, lying stripped of any valuables that they might have been carrying. Blood dries in the hot sun, and Luke darts away in order to vomit in the sand. Djaq inches a little closer, counting the bodies.
Djaq: Some are missing. The women.
Will: Taken as slaves?
Djaq nods, looking sick herself.
Allan: ‘Ere, Sir Joseph ain’t here either. Neither are a couple of the other knights.
Djaq: They had horses. They may have fled.
Will: Did the Bedouin do this?
Djaq nods, pointing at hoof-marks that surround the bodies. She looks terrified, and when Djaq looks scared, you know that things are scary. Allan and Will’s hands reach for their weapons, revolving slowly on the spot as Djaq covers her face and looks closer. She steps back, shaking her head.
Djaq: There are all dead.
But Will has spotted something, his eyes widening as he points.
Will: Is that…?
There is a twang in the air, and in the next moment Allan dives and tackles Will. The two of them hit the ground just as an arrow hits the ground where Will was standing. Instantly Djaq has her sword out as a dark cloud of turbaned men gallop down the nearest sand dune on horseback. There are six altogether, their faces covered and their swords raised, and they sound out a war-cry as they attack. Will and Allan haul themselves upright and unsheathe their swords as the men attack. Together the two manage to pull one off his horse. As Will finishes him off, Allan sidesteps away and throws a knife at the next one. Djaq meanwhile has dived aside as one man bears down on her, and is then up on her feet again as he turns around. He comes back at her, but Djaq has already balanced her sword in hand, like a spear, and thrown it home. The attacker falls from the back of his horse, and Djaq swiftly retrieves her sword to face the next man.
Four are left. One leaps off his horse to better attack Djaq and together they begin to spar as the remaining three horses turn to face Will and Allan. Just as Will seems about to lunge forward, Allan grabs his wrist.
Allan: The Saint’s Line. Remember?
Will barely has time to nod, but as the horses bear down on them, they stand their ground till the last minutes before diving apart. From coiled around Allan’s wrist Will pulls a wire, and as they both hit the ground, it’s pulled taunt. (Yeah, yeah, I nicked this from “Angel”. Shut up, it’s cool). The two men brace themselves and the first horse topples over, followed swiftly by the second. One man is crushed under the pile-up and as the other struggles to his feet Will neatly steps behind him and slits his throat. Behind them Djaq looks to be in trouble, but as they advance, she falls backwards onto her back, using her feet to throw her attacker over her body. Allan finishes him off with his sword, but drops it in pain as he realizes that he’s bleeding profusely from a wound in his arm. Djaq reaches for him as he sways unsteadily on his feet, but it’s Will who catches him as he slumps to the ground.
All are unprepared as the last man bears down on them, but just as it looks like they’re about to meet an untimely end, when the attacker jerks in his seat. A few moments pass, and then he falls to the desert ground, dead. The trio look around, dazed and panting. Luke has risen to his knees, a bow clutched in his trembling hand.
Luke gets up shakily, having thrown himself down beside the bodies during the fight and feigned death. The horses of the Bedouin mill about uncertainly.
Allan: I’m a’right…it ain’t deep.
Djaq: (still panting heavily, her eyes closed tight) Allahu Akbar.
Allan: Amen.