The Crusader ("The Crusader" Prequel to "Kingdom Come") (7 page)

"I
have a hunch that we're going to have to cut the material straight down the
midline," she said thoughtfully. "With the condition of the shroud,
there is no way we'll be able to unwrap him and keep the material intact. It'll
just fall apart in our hands."

Bud
stood next to them, his hands on his hips as he observed the corpse. "The
condition of the wrappings makes me wonder what kind of state the body is
in," he muttered. "Probably nothing but bones."

David
snorted ironically, laying his pen down and looking to the swaddling in the
ditch. "We'll be lucky if we find bones. I'm opting for complete
dust."

Rory
pondered their statements a moment before lowering herself into the hole.
Bending over, not to mention offering both Bud and David a tantalizing view of
her rounded rear, she gently probed the massive form from abdomen to thigh.
After a moment, she straightened up and put her hands on her hips.

"I
don't know, guys," she ventured. "He seems to be pretty firm for just
bones."

"It's
the armor," David said confidently.

Rory
shook her head. "No way. This guy should be clad in mail only, with maybe
a few pieces of plate armor. Remember that suits of full armor, the big heavy
things, weren't widely used until the thirteen century, and by the looks of
this guy's helm I dated him at eleventh or twelveth century. Were he to have
deteriorated to dust, the mail would have simply collapsed and this bundle
wouldn't be so bulky. So... solid."

"So
you think the body is intact?" Bud cocked an eyebrow. "A fascinating
concept if it's true. Do you think it's possible that he was mummified somehow?
Preserved, even?"

Rory
shrugged, once again crouching over the body and running expert hands over what
should have been the thighs. "I doubt he was conventionally mummified. But
it is possible that the dry desert air somehow naturally preserved most of his
mass." Her gaze followed her hands as they moved down the right leg.
"Good Lord, this guy was huge. One of his legs is bigger in circumference
than my entire torso."

Bud
smiled faintly. "I'd really hate to meet this guy on the field of battle.
He must have been an imposing sight."

Rory
nodded in agreement. "Six feet six inches and well over two hundred
pounds. For a man of ancient times, this guy was the size of Goliath."

"What
do you want to cut the material with, Rory?" David asked, handing his
journal over to the ever-present foreman.

Rory
looked up from the bundle, surprised. "Me?" she repeated, looking
between David and Bud. "You want me to cut the shroud?"

Bud
shrugged faintly. "It's your dig."

"But
you're the senior archaeologist. You should do it."

"Why?"
Bud yawned, scratching his head as the morning temperature began to rise.
"I've never done this before, either. He's your knight, Rory. You do the
honors."

Rory
gazed at Bud, swallowing away her shock as a definite sense of pleasure took
hold. "All right," she murmured, looking once more to the ancient
parcel wedged between her ankles. "I guess I'll need a scalpel or a single
edge razor. I want something really sharp."

"This
wrapping is crumbling as it is," David pointed out. "Do you really
think you need something that exact?"

"Absolutely,"
she said. "If I run into any resistance, I don't want to wrestle with it.
I don't want to damage anything inadvertently."

David
looked to Bud, who merely shrugged. "You heard the good doctor. Go find
her a scalpel or a razor blade."

Peck was
gone, taking the foreman with him. Bud continued to watch his associate as she
pondered the best place to begin cutting, her beautiful face etched in
concentration. He was perfectly content to observe her in silence until David
and the foreman returned bearing two scalpels they had confiscated from the
first-aid kit. As the foreman collected the videocamera and began rolling, Rory
accepted a scalpel from David and bent over the crusader's neck.

It
wasn't until she hovered over the ancient bindings that she realized her hands
were shaking. From his position at the edge of the grave, Bud put his hand on
her head in a comforting gesture.

"Relax,
honey," he said softly. "You're doing fine. Just go layer by layer
like you've been taught."

Rory
took a deep breath, offering the man a weak smile. "I thought I was calm
until a moment ago," she said softly. "But, God, Bud... this is
really scary. And really, really exciting."

He met
her smile. "So cut already. I can hardly stand the suspense."

She
laughed softly. "If Becker were here, you realize he would demand that you
do this yourself. Leaving such an important task to a novice archaeologist is
risky business."

His eyes
were like blue ice; glittering and intense and potent. "I'll take my
chances."

Rory
caught an underlying message in his softly-uttered statement but said nothing.
He did very well at keeping his emotions concealed, but there were times when
the dam would crack and sliver of sentiment would slip past. If Rory really
thought hard on it, it wouldn't be so difficult to give in to his magnetism. He
was a truly handsome guy with a golden character. But at this point in her
life, she wasn't interested in a relationship of any kind. For the moment, she
was only interest in her dreams. Taking a deep breath for courage, she leaned
over the shroud and began to cut.

As she
knew they would, the bindings turned to dust in her hands. She wasn't cutting
the material as much as she was simply brushing it away, revealing a sight more
astonishing than she had ever dreamt possible; apparently, the knight had been
buried hastily. So hastily that the helm was the only part of his armor that he
wore. The rest of it, the mail and war implements including his sword, were
laid on the body that was then tightly wrapped in coarse material.

As she
progressed, Bud was forced to jump into the grave to assist her. The body of
the knight was loaded with possessions and he began to carefully remove the
items as Rory freed them, turning them over to David for cataloging. The
broadsword, still in its crafted leather sheath, weighed over thirty pounds
alone and both Bud and David were awed by the mighty weapon.

Rory
paused in the middle of her task, looking to Bud and David as they removed the
broadsword from its protective cover. Gleaming and flawless beneath the
scorching Turkish sun, the timeless beauty was overwhelming.

"Christ,"
Bud hissed as David held up the heavy weapon, the hilt inlaid with several
semi-precious stones. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

Peck,
his eyes wide with wonder, shook his head. "I've never seen anything like
this in my life," he muttered. "Look at the craftsmanship on the
pommel. Hell, I'd hate to take this thing in to battle for fear of damaging it.
It's too beautiful to use as a weapon."

Rory
wiped at the sweat on her brow with the back of her hand, smiling faintly.
"Boys and their toys. From century to century, it never changes."

Bud
grinned, running his gloved finger over the edge of the sword. "How'd you
like to have this blade driven into your guts? Pretty horrible, huh?"

She turned
back to the knight. "Yes, but given the odds, you would still take the
risk you were trained for. And that risk is probably what killed our friend.
Here; look at this."

Bud and
David looked to the source of her focus. The knight was clad in tunic and hose,
fairly simple clothing for the crusaders who had preferred a somewhat lavish
wardrobe. Discolored with dirt and the passage of time, the lower portion of
the tunic as well as the hose were shaded a dark brown. It didn't take a genius
to figure out it was a bloodstain.

"What
a way to go." Bud shook his head slowly. "But why in the hell would
they bury him still clothed in his bloodied tunic? It doesn't make sense."

"None
of this does," Rory said, cautiously removing the last of the bindings
from the man's feet. "Nothing about this guy makes any sense
whatsoever."

For the
first time in centuries, the body of the knight was open for the scrutiny of
the modern world and David set aside the broadsword long enough to study the
man with interest.

"Hell,
look at this guy," he muttered, moving to gain a better view. "You
were right, Rory. He's as solid as a rock."

At the
knight's feet, Rory simply shook her head in wonder. "This is the most
beautifully preserved corpse I've ever seen. No odor, no deterioration, no
nothing. It's almost as if... as if he had died yesterday."

Bud,
too, studied the ancient warrior. After a moment, he looked to the collection
of property resting along a wide strip of cotton material near David's
make-shift desk. The foreman was in the process of numbering and photographing
each item when Bud's gaze came to rest on one particular object.

"Dave,
take a look at that book," he gestured toward the far end of the
collection. "It could be a diary or letters. Maybe it'll tell us this
guy's name."

"Or
it could be a Bible," Rory suggested as David moved to collect the
leather-bound book.

The
cover carefully opened, David slowly meandered back to his colleagues as he
reviewed the ancient pages. Pausing by the edge of the grave, he cast Rory an
odd expression.

"Can
you read medieval writing, Dr. Osgrove?"

She
pursed her lips at his ridiculous question. "I should hope so. I spent
most of my graduate years doing just that."

David
shook his head, cautiously passing the book into her gloved hands. "Well,
good luck with this stuff, anyway."

Rory
accepted the volume, being extremely careful with it. The cover was opened to
the first page, fine parchment that was remarkably preserved. The script was
faded with time, extremely ornate, and she sighed when she realized she was
dealing with an educated man who had apparently loved to write. The entire
first page was some sort of lengthy poem in script she could hardly decipher.

"Whew."
She leaned against the side of the grave as she studied the writing. "This
is going to take some time, isn't it?"

Peck
smiled wryly, turning back to his artifacts. Bud stepped over the body, moving
to stand beside Rory as she examined the ancient text.

He
couldn't make heads or tails of it. "Turn the page. Maybe we'll find something
recognizable."

She
grinned. "What's the matter, Bud? Can't read anything but ancient
Greek?"

"That's
easy compared to this. Turn the page before I go blind."

"You
could be reading a medieval curse and not even know it."

He cast
her his best intimidating expression. "Quiet, you troublemaker. I'm not
afraid of any ancient curse. Well, not much."

With a
soft laugh, Rory turned the fragile page, amazed with the resilience of the
vellum. "By all rights, this stuff should be crumbling. I can't believe
how well preserved it is."

Bud
squinted at the faded transcript. "Maybe the grave acted like a time
capsule, preserving everything in an air-tight fashion. But I suspect the
condition of this book won't stay good forever; exposure to the air will speed
the decaying process. It needs to be sealed."

"After
we find out his name," Rory said, glancing to the helmed head at the other
end of the trench. "Come on, big boy. Tell us who you are."

Being
very careful, Bud turned another page. He was about to turn another when Rory
suddenly stopped him.

"Here."
She jabbed her finger at the bottom of the fourth page. "From what I can
tell, this is the knight's journal. He's talking about his trip aboard a
ship... and here he mentions the city of Acre. My God, Bud, this guy really
was
a crusader. Bingo!"

Bud
grinned at her excitement. "You already convinced me of that last night.
So what's his name?"

Hazel
eyes scanned the pages. After a moment, she appeared to find a passage of
particular interest.

"Right
here," she murmured, struggling to read the script. "Heck, it's so
faded I can hardly read it. But he swearing the truth of his recollections by
God's Holy Order and whosoever should repeat these tales... on and on and on...
now where does he mention his name?"

Reseated
beside the artifacts, David's cataloguing came to a halt as Rory read aloud
from the chronicle. Even the foreman had paused in his duties, listening
carefully. Bud had given up trying to read the stuff and now stood waiting
patiently as Rory completed her analysis.

The
activity grew oddly still as Rory scrutinized the unfamiliar writing. Turning a
page, she seemed to go back and forth between a couple of pages before her gaze
came to rest on what she apparently sought. Slowly, her face lit with a
beautiful smile.

"Well?"
Bud demanded. "What's his name?"

Rory
sighed dreamily, gazing to the ancient knight. There was gentleness in her
expression as she spoke.