Prologue...

Lucine leaned forward as the sun came up and gave Hugh another kiss on the cheek. Hugh had been singing to her all night. He wasn't a professional minstrel, but he did his best to keep her entertained. Nothing 'inappropriate' had happened. Although Hugh had too admit to himself, the thought was on his mind. As she got up too return too her room downstairs, Hugh grasped her shoulder. "Will I see you again Lucine?"

She turned around and smiled again, and undid the knot the still held her veil too the side of one of her braids. She held it out too Hugh and he hesitantly took it. She walked up to Hugh and whispered in his ear. "One day that veil will be the only thing between us." She kissed him on the cheek again, and went downstairs and he hadn't seen her again since.

Castle Emmaus, Emmaus

Kingdom of Jerusalem

March 14th 1172

Hugh was startled awake again by the memory of Lucines' kiss. He looked down and found himself lying in bed. He rubbed his cheeks and felt the spot where she had touched him with her lips. He felt a beard where in his dream had been bare skin. 'A whole two years...' he thought to himself. He had dreamt of her often, but hadn't seen her since that night.

He threw the sheets on his bed back and swung his legs around to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his hands through his hair, and began stretching and popped his shoulders. He pushed up with his hands and stood up slowly stretching his legs. He walked over toward a chest he had against the wall and opened the lid. He reached inside and removed a white cotton shirt. He quickly got dressed. And put his boots on. He walked back over too the chest and pulled his sword sheathed in it's scabbard, and riveted too his belt and strapped the belt around his waist, and secured his sword too his left hip. He reached into the chest one last time, and withdrew a purple veil from underneath a few more shirts. It had a yellow moon pattern embroidered across the front. Tying it around his wrist, he shut the lid on the chest, and walked out of his room, shutting the door behind him.

Hugh quickly made his way across the courtyard, and walked into the main hall where his uncle always convened with his knights. He got too the table and noticed that only his uncle, Wimarc, was sitting at the head of the table, reading over some papers. He was completely occupied by the material he was looking over, but heard Hugh's steps as he approached. He looked up and saw his nephew, and smiled. He put his papers down and pushed his chair back and stood up from his work. He walked over and as he got closer to Hugh, he drew his sword. Hugh took a step back reaching for his own sword hesitantly. When he got within range Wimarc swung for Hugh's side. Hugh pulled his own sword out with a practiced swiftness, and easily parried the blow. Wimarc swung the next blow, for Hugh's neck, which Hugh's blocked as well. His uncle tried once more with a blow aimed for his nephews head. Hugh angled his sword up and blocked this blow as well, but reached out, and grabbed the tip of his sword with his hand and hammered his uncles' blade down with the cross-guard of his sword, and brought the pommel forward into Wimarcs chest. His uncle took a step back and caught his breath from the blow, and held his hand up, for Hugh too stop. "Very good boy! You're coming with us."

"Come with you! Where? "Hugh seemed astonished as he re-sheathed his sword and his uncle did the same.

His uncle smiled again. "Jerusalem. Antioch. Jaffa. Tyre. Where God takes us!"

"Protecting the pilgrims and merchants?" Hugh seemed unable too accept the fact that he was ready.

"Yes!" Wimarc replied. "It's time you participate." He walked past Hugh and stood at the door. "Conrad!"

A few moments passed, and then Conrad, the castellan of Emmaus, walked in dressed fully in chainmail."Yes my lord?"

"Hugh is ready. Take him too the armory. Suit him up!" Wimarc stated proudly.

"Yes sir!" Conrad bowed and led Hugh from the hall.

Hugh and Conrad walked across the courtyard to the other side of the castle and entered a building adjacent too the keep. Conrad pulled a set of keys, which hung on a large ring from his belt. They came too a large steel door set into the side of the stone building. Conrad put a large key into the lock that hung from the door, below the handle. He unlocked and then pulled the door open. 'Step inside Hugh."

They walked inside the large room, and Conrad shut the door behind them. Hugh walked forward too a circular foyer, where he saw the sun shining on the ground through the glass windows from up by the roof. He heard Conrad walk up behind him and turned too see what the castellan was doing. He turned too see Conrad holding up a shirt and leg set of chainmail. "Put it on. See how it looks."

Hugh stepped back into his uncles' main hall. Wimarc turned and saw his nephew in full chainmail, except for his head and neck, and dressed in a yellow and blue tunic. He smiled for a moment, stood, and walked over too where Hugh was now standing. "Well you look ready for war. Lets find out."

"When are we leaving? Where?" Hugh asked.

"Jaffa. There are a group of French pilgrims seeking escort too Jerusalem then on to Bethlehem. We ride out in an hour, so get something too eat."

Hugh nodded and bowed his head too his uncle. "At once."

The heat was intense, and the suns bright as midday started too approach. The total group of men marching behind Wimarc numbered around twenty. All of them were mounted on horseback and heavily armored. Wimarc's new seneschal, a young Norman named Gamel, carried the banner of Emmaus high as they marched northwest on the road headed for Jaffa.

Hugh rode a few feet behind Gamel and next to Raymond, his uncles lead knight. He looked at the red-headed warrior and asked. "How often do these caravans get attacked?"

Raymond turned and replied, "Not as often as the bards sing about, young sir, but often enough too be an annoyance. Saracen raiders from Amman and Damascus, hide in the many Moslem communities across the countryside. I'd say one out of every five pilgrim caravans get attacked."

"How big are these raiding parties?" Hugh asked.

Raymond contemplated the answer for a moment. "Varies. I've never encountered a group larger than ten. Some of the people who ride the roads between Karak and Jerusalem have reported groups as big as fifty. But they aren't ever heavily armored, or well trained."

The group from Emmaus rode for another four hours without incident. They finally came within sight of the walls of the busy port city, of Jaffa. Traffic was heavy on the roads in both directions. The city gates were wide open as pilgrims, merchants, and soldiers came into and out of the city.

Wimarc called the column too a halt, and turned too address his men. "Raymond. Take five men and go meet these pilgrims down by the docks. I'll keep the remainder of our men outside the gates and wait for your return. The sooner we're on the road the better."

Raymond nodded, and began calling out names, he named off one after another until he paused at the final name,"...and Hugh."

Hugh's attention had been on the view of Jaffa, but quickly turned around when he heard his name called. "Me?"

Raymond gave Wimarc a look. Wimarc spoke up, "Why not? Hugh. Go earn your spurs!"

Raymond led the men along the crowded streets of Jaffa. The city's markets were packed with buyers, sellers, and foreign merchants pressing their wares on all who passed by. The public squares were overcrowded with peasant and noble alike, listening too charismatic clergy men speaking and ranting about killing the infidels. Soldiers of various banners and Military Orders were streaming too and from the area of the dock.

As they got closer towards the docks, Hugh noticed a segregated market down by the shore, composed almost entirely of Moslem merchants. He looked on as a view of the Arab men looking at him with cold stares. Only a few made any gesture of greeting has Raymond's group passed them.

Hugh noticed a group of about fifteen various men and women getting off a ship that had apparently just tied down on the dock. Hugh motioned to Raymond and pointed at them. The red-headed knight nodded and trotted up to the lead man who had just reached the bottom of the ramp leading from the boat deck. Raymond dismounted from his horse and greeted the man in French. "Godspeed good sir! Are you Etienne of Marseilles?"

The man nodded, and in a heavy French accent replied, "I am. I assume you are Baron Wimarc of Emmaus?"

"I'm afraid I do not have the honor of that title. My name is Raymond of Emmaus. The Baron waits with the remainder of our men just outside the city walls. If we..." Raymond was interrupted by a series of shouts from down the shore has a mob of Moslems were forming around a ship berthed in the next dock. The Arab men and women were shouting something in their native tongue, which neither Hugh nor Raymond understood. The clear target of their seething shouts was an Italian priest standing on the boat deck denouncing the crowd in Greek. "I will not step foot in a city that contains this heathen scum!" Obviously enough of the Moslems in the crowd understood him. For they were becoming more hostile by the moment.

"Dammit! This could degenerate into a full riot!" Raymond snapped off into no one in particular. He turned toward Hugh and Theobauld, the knight on horseback next too him. "You two! Stay with Etienne and the others! I'll go get some of the local knights too lend a hand!" Raymond remounted his horse and led the remaining three men down the street at a fast gallop. Theobauld and Hugh just stared at each other, and both dismounted and removed their shields and drew their swords and stood in front of Etienne, praying that mob didn't look this way and see them.

They weren't so lucky. A man near the rear and noticed both men's swords and that they were standing guard over Etienne. He shouted something in Arabic too the crowd, which by now had grown double in size and anger since Raymond had ridden off. About half the mob began walking in Hugh's direction chanting something he couldn't make out. One of them picked up a rock on the street and hurled it at Theobauld, which just shattered on his shield. Both he and Hugh were clearly getting nervous.

Suddenly another rock flew by Hugh's head and missed Etienne, but hit one of the other pilgrims in the stomach. "Enough." Hugh turned around and looked at Etienne and the other pilgrims who had gathered to watch. "Get back on the boat now!" The Frenchman didn't need too be convinced, and he told the others with him too follow Hugh's orders. When the Christians had gotten back on the boat, Hugh and Theobauld stood on station at the end bottom of the ships ramp. The two of them side by side, effectively blocking the entrance to the ramp. Silence fell over the crowd as Hugh and Theobauld swung their swords trying too keep the mob at bay.

One man tried too come in at Hugh's left, but he swung his blade and cut the man down. Someone tried too attack Theobauld on his right but, he was likewise cut down. Seeing some of their people go down, the crowd backed up a little bit. Hugh stayed where he was, but Theobauld stepped forward a few steps and exposed his right side. Out of the corner of his eye, Hugh saw someone run out of the crowd with a knife at Theobaulds right flank. "Theo!" Hugh ran forward brushing past Theobauld as he passed behind him. The attacker was gutted by Hugh before he realized what had happened. Too late, Hugh realized, he had stabbed a woman, no a girls, who couldn't be any older than twelve. He looked down and saw the blood flowing down the swords handle, and onto his leather gauntlets. He dropped his sword and the girl fell too the ground dead.

"Oh my God..."Hugh muttered too himself and fell too his knees. He quickly yanked the sword out of the girl and checked for a heartbeat. She had none.

The crowd just stared at Hugh in stunned silence. Before anything could be done on their part, a cry erupted from further up the street behind the mob. They turned and looked at the source of the sound, as did Theobauld. It was Raymond charging on horseback followed by his own men and a group of about twenty Templar and Hospitallers. They were all on horse back, and they hit the mob head on. Most of the mob immediately dispersed, but the few who remained and tried too stand their ground were cut down.

The Italian priest came up behind Hugh, and placed his hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "Fear not my son. Killing heathens isn't murder. You haven't committed any sin toda-" the priest's rant was cut off, has Hugh's fist connected with the mans jaw, which knocked him out cold.

"Her blood is on your hands too..."Hugh decreed in solemn voice.

END OF CHAPTER TWO