Balian watched the priest make the sign of the cross over his dead wife's body holding back the tears that were obscuring his vision. The priest's men slowly wrapped the corpse in swaddling clothes and lifted her onto a cart to be taken for burial. A small, soft hand slipped into his and Balian squeezed it thankfully before looking upon the face of his dear sister, Heloise.

Her velvet-textured brown eyes also sparkled with tears, the odd one escaping to trail down her cheek. From many days spent working on the farms, her face was slightly tanned from the wind and sun yet today she appeared unnaturally pale. She said nothing but her full lips flickered briefly in a reassuring smile. Not having the strength to return it he instead pulled her close, his arm around her shoulder, and together they turned to watch the men pull the cart up the hill until they were out of sight.

'Balian,' she began, but did not finish as he strode past her and back into the forge where the gawky and rather unblessed youth Thomas lounged waiting for the day's work to begin. With a sigh, Heloise turned reluctantly back to the cottage that she shared with Balian and once with his late wife, but not before saying a silent prayer for Maria's soul. God knows she'd need it.

She found herself being distracted from her needlework much sooner than she had expected. Peeking out the door slightly she let out a gasp. Making their way down the hill towards the village, almost regally, were a group of crusaders. Their garments were that of knights teamed with red cloaks, weapons displayed as prominently as their faith. They were approaching the forge to get their horses shod and to beg a bite to eat, the obsequious priest swarming around them like an irritating fly. Heloise quickly gathered some food to give to the brave crusaders, hoping they would forgive the meager offering from a blacksmith's sister, and crossed to the forge.
She smiled briefly as she set the plate down on the table, ignoring the leers from the sniveling Thomas and watched a well-built, blonde man eagerly snatch up mouthfuls of the bread. He gave her an appraising look, implying that he was interested in her for more than the food and she almost ran to Balian's side, her cheeks feeling warm. The man appeared not to notice.

'What does that say?' He asked with a full mouth, gesturing to the carving in the wood of the beam. Balian answered as he moved the metal to the water.

'Who is a man if he does not try to make the world better?'

'Leave me with this man,' came a voice from behind them. Heloise turned quickly to see the leader of the crusaders, standing patiently, his eyes fixed on her brother. He was tall and imposing, yet seemed to show his age and tiredness despite his proud stance. His eyes were startlingly blue and she was most taken aback when he winked at her. Overly flustered by male attention, she gathered together what food she could pry from the man (who she'd learned was a German) and headed towards the other knights to offer nourishment. The priest also followed, hovering nearby. The knights all graciously accepted the food, one actually speaking to her.

'Thank you my lady,' he said in a voice that had a slight twang to it. He was slightly shorter than the leader, Sir Godfrey, with short blonde hair and a moustache.

'Please my lord, I am not worthy of such titles,' she said with an embarrassed smile. He smiled in return but certainly looked more self-assured.

'Why one as fine and as generous as you is more than worthy,' his voice shifted to a comical whisper. 'I am just thankful that you managed to wrestle some food away from our German friend. He has quite the appetite.' The German laughed loudly and Heloise felt herself smile again.

There was only one knight to whom she hadn't offered food and as she turned to face him it was all she could do not to gasp out in surprise. He stood apart from the rest of the group, stroking the mane of his exotic-looking horse, obviously from the Holy Lands. It was leaner, features more defined, and so different to the European horses she was used to. As enamored as she was by the horse, her attentions were drawn to the knight. He was of dark skin, coloured, was the term used, and he was magnificent. His armour was different to the other knights, like his horse, it was more intricate and form fitting and seemed to fit him like a second skin. He was aged, she could tell by the lines on his dark face and the grayness of his unusual beard, so incredibly different to any she had ever seen. His eyes were stunningly bright, and his skin the same colour as the iris that she couldn't look away from. Strange markings, or tattoos, were painted across his forehead giving him an air of spirituality. Slowly, she stepped forward and offered him food. With a small, barely noticeable smile he inclined his head in thanks and began to eat. Heloise was unaware that she was watching him until the priest took her by the arm and pulled her away from the rest.

'You had best be careful Heloise,' he hissed maliciously. 'That man is a traitor to God.'

'But father,' she protested. 'Is he not a crusader? Doing God's Holy Work?'

'Aye my child,' he said slowly not releasing his grip on her arm. 'So it may appear. But consorting with Christians does not make him any less of an infidel, and a blatant opponent of our Lord God. Also,' his eyes swept over her body and she shuddered. 'He appears quite lustful, you should not give him any encouragement.' With a surge of anger she pulled away from him.

'Thank you father, as ever your advice has been memorable.'

Thankfully, by this time, Sir Godfrey had ceased talking with her brother so she found safety at his side once again. Sir Godfrey told the knights to prepare to leave and regretfully she watched them mount their horses. Once Sir Godfrey was astride his mount the party thanked them for their hospitality and began to ride off. The German and the other knight she had spoken with thanked her personally, and the dark skinned knight raised his hand in an unfamiliar gesture of thanks, or peace she wasn't quite sure. Sir Godfrey hesitated and turned back to them, addressing Balian.

'If you change your mind, go to where the men speak Italian, and continue until they speak something else, head for the port of Medusa.' With that he turned and eased his horse into a slow gallop, the village children running at his heels. Before she could even begin to question her brother he turned back to the forge and reluctantly she headed back to the house, flinging her brown hair over her shoulder in an attempt to show her brother that she was certainly not amused by his silence.

I hope you liked this. Please review! If I got the phrasing of the carving wrong I'm sorry! Also could someone please tell me the name of the knight I tried to describe with blonde hair and a moustache? The one who finds Balian when it is time to see his dying father? Or is he the one who asks Godfrey to repent to God? I'm all confused! Help!