Pagan's Vows Read Online Free PDF Page A

strong-box all their lives; they’re drooling for a good, juicy battle yarn. Even Raymond’s dying to ask a question. You can tell by the way he keeps opening and shutting his mouth.
    ‘Did he kill them with a sword?’ Gaubert inquires, breathlessly.
    ‘Most of them.’
    ‘Did he ever get hurt?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Where?’
    Glance at Roland. He’s stubbornly working through a handful of corn, his gaze lowered. What do you want me to say, Roland? Do you want me to ‘answer that one? If I don’t, they’ll probably tear me to pieces.
    ‘In the side. He was wounded in the side.’
    ‘Ooooh . . .’ A chorus of sympathetic murmurs. Arnie! places his thin, bluish hand on my arm.
    ‘What about you?’ he says. ‘Did you fight the Infidels?’
    ‘Yes, I did.’ Looking around the circle of eager faces, with their slack jaws and shining eyes. Only two of them aren’t sweating with curiosity: Raymond, who looks cross, and Ademar, who doesn’t seem to be here at all. His thoughts are far away, in some lightless, despairing hell of his own. His expression is enough to give you nightmares. ‘As a matter of fact, I even met Saladin once. No, twice.’
    ‘ Saladin? ’ That really makes them sit up straight. Gaubert begins to bounce up and down like a frog in a box. (You can’t help liking him.) Bernard leans forward.
    ‘Isn’t Saladin the Grand Turk?’ he demands.
    ‘Sort of. He’s a sultan –’
    ‘What’s he like? Does he really have two horns?’
    Horns? ‘No, of course not.’
    ‘Does he drink the blood of Christians?’ (Arniel.) ‘I’ve heard that he drinks the blood of Christians.’
    ‘Of course he doesn’t.’ God preserve us. Are these ever the backwoods! ‘Saladin is a great warrior. He may be an Infidel, but he’s a noble Infidel. When he conquered Jerusalem, he spared the lives of every single soul. And he also freed every old pauper, because they couldn’t pay their ransoms. And he saved Roland, too.’
    ‘Pagan.’ A warning growl from Roland, which makes everybody flinch. I haven’t heard him use that commander-of-the-Temple voice in a long time.
    But it’s too late to stop now.
    ‘What happened?’ Durand pleads. ‘Tell us! Tell us what happened!’
    ‘Well . . .’ Should I? Oh, all right. ‘If you must know, when Saladin conquered Jerusalem everyone had to pay a ransom, and Roland’s was fifty dinars, because he was a knight of the Temple –’
    ‘A knight of the Temple? You didn’t tell us that!’
    ‘Well he was. But he didn’t want to pay it, because he knew that his fifty dinars would free ten women, or fifty children, and he’s so noble and good that he wanted to sacrifice himself –’
    ‘Pagan!’ Another glare from Roland. What? What’s the matter? You know it’s true, my lord. Why shouldn’t I tell them?
    ‘Go on,’ says Gaubert. ‘What happened then? Finish the story!’
    ‘Well, I got down on my knees and begged Saladin for Roland’s life, and he freed him. I don’t know why he did it, because he hates Templars, but I’ll always be grateful. Always. And I say a prayer for Saladin every day.’ (Well, almost every day.) ‘He’s a good man, you know. Because if it hadn’t been for him, Roland wouldn’t even be here.’
    A satisfied sigh from Gaubert, Bernard, Durand and Amiel. Raymond, however, doesn’t sigh. He snorts.
    ‘You’re lying,’ he says.
    ‘I’m not lying.’
    ‘You are lying! How could an Infidel be good? Infidels are bad! Infidels are demons!’ He’s red in the face. ‘The only good Infidel is a dead Infidel!’
    ‘I wouldn’t say that exactly –’
    ‘Oh wouldn’t you?’ (What’s the matter with this slug-head? Why’s he splitting his seams?) ‘Maybe you wouldn’t say it because they’re your friends! Maybe you’re an Infidel! You certainly look like one! No decent Christian would have skin that colour – that dirty, Infidel colour –’
    Suddenly Roland gets to his feet. From down on the floor he looks as