Sajhe lunged toward Oriane and tried to grab Bertrande, but he wasn’t quick enough.
“Don’t come closer,” she shouted, recovering herself. She dragged Bertrande back towards the mouth of the cave. “I swear, I’ll kill her.”
“Mama!”
Alais took another step forward. “Let her go, Oriane. Your quarrel is with me.”
There is no quarrel, sister. You have the Book of Words. I want it. C’est pas difficile.“
“And once you have it?”
Guilhem was transfixed. He still dared not believe the evidence of his eyes, that this was Alais, as he had dreamed her in his imagination so often, in his waking hours and when he lay down to sleep.
A movement caught his attention, the glint of steel, of helmets. Guilhem peered. Two soldiers were creeping up behind Alais through the heavy scrub. Guilhem glanced to his left at the sound of a boot against the rock.
“Seize them!”
The soldier nearest to Sajhe grabbed his arms and held him fast, as the others broke cover. Quick as lightning, Alais drew her sword and spun round, slicing the blade into the closest soldier’s side. He fell. The other soldier lunged at her. Sparks flew as the blades clashed, right, left.
Alais had the advantage of the higher ground, but she was smaller and weaker.
Guilhem leaped from his hiding place and ran towards her, just as she stumbled and lost her footing. The soldier lunged, stabbing the inside of her arm. Alais screamed and dropped the sword, clutching at the wound with her glove to staunch the blood.
2›“Mama!” 2›
Guilhem launched himself the last few steps and thrust his sword into the soldier’s stomach. Blood vomited from his mouth. His eyes bulged with shock, then he fell.
He did not have time to draw breath.
“Guilhem!” Alais shouted. “At the rear.”
He spun round to see two more soldiers running up the slopes. With a roar, he withdrew his sword and charged at them. The blade sliced down through the air as he drove them back, striking randomly, mercilessly, first one, then the other.
He was the better swordsman, but he was outnumbered.
Sajhe was now bound and on his knees. One of the soldiers stayed guard, the point of his knife at Sajhe’s neck, as the other came to help subdue Guilhem. He came within striking distance of Alais. Although she was losing blood fast, she managed to draw a knife from her belt and with her remaining strength, drove it with force between her assailant’s legs. He screamed as the blade sank itself into the top of his thigh.
Blindsided with pain, he lashed out. Guilhem saw Alais fly back and hit her head against the rock. She tried to stand, but she was disorientated, and staggering, and her legs gave out. She sank to the ground, blood flowing from the cut on her head.
The dagger still embedded in his leg, the soldier lumbered towards Guilhem, like a bear in a baiting pit. Guilhem stepped back to get out of his way and skidded on the slippery ground, sending stones skeetering down the hillside. It gave the two others the opportunity they needed to jump him and pin him, face down, on the ground.
He felt his ribs snap as a boot connected with his side. He jerked in agony as they kicked him again. He could taste blood in his mouth.
There was no sound from Alais. She didn’t appear to be moving at all.
Then he heard Sajhe shout. Guilhem lifted his head just as the soldier struck Sajhe sideways with the flat of his sword, knocking him senseless.
Oriane had disappeared into the cave, taking Bertrande with her.
With a roar, Guilhem summoned every last bit of strength left in him, hurled himself to his feet, sending one of the soldiers flying backwards down the hill. He grasped his sword and drove it into the throat of man left standing, as Alais staggered to her knees and stuck the other in the back of the leg with his own knife. The howl of pain died in his throat.
Guilhem realised everything had fallen silent.
Fore a moment, he just stared at Alais. Even now, Guilhem was terrified to believe the evidence of his eyes for fear she would be taken away from him again. Then he held out his hand.
Guilhem felt her fingers entwine with his. He felt her skin, torn and battered, like his, cold like he was. Real.
“I thought-”
“I know,” she said quickly.
Guilhem didn’t want to let her go, but the thought of Bertrande called him back.
“Sajhe’s hurt,” he said, striding up the slope towards the entrance. “You help him. I’m going after Oriane.”
Alais bent down to check Sajhe, then immediately ran to catch him up.
“He’s unconscious only,” she said. “You stay. Tell him what’s happened.
I have to find Bertrande.“
“No, it’s what she wants. She’ll force you to reveal where you’ve concealed the book, then she’ll kill you both. I’ve a better chance of bringing your daughter out alive without you, can’t you see?”
“Our daughter,” she said.
Guilhem heard the words, although he could make no sense of them.
His heart started to race.
“Alais, what-?” he started to say, but she had ducked under his arm and was already running down the tunnel into the darkness.
CHAPTER 80
Ariege
FRIDAY 8 JULY, 2OO5
They’ve gone to the cave,“ shouted Noubel, slamming down the receiver, ”of all the stupid-“
“Who?”
“Audric Baillard and Alice Tanner. They’ve taken it into their heads that Shelagh O’Donnell is being held at the Pic de Soularac and are on their way there. She said someone else was there too. An American, William Franklin.”
“Who’s he?”
“No idea,” said Noubel, grabbing his jacket from the back of the door and lumbering out into the corridor.
Moureau followed him. “Who was it on the phone?”
The front desk. They took the message from Dr Tanner at nine o’clock, apparently, but “didn’t think I’d want to be disturbed in the middle of an interrogation!” N’importe quoi! Noubel mimicked the nasal voice of the night sergeant.
Both men automatically glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was ten fifteen.
“What about Braissart and Domingo?” said Moureau, with a glance the corridor to the interview rooms. Noubel’s hunch had been right. The two men had been arrested not far from Authie’s ex-wife’s farmhouse. They’d been heading south towards Andorra.
“They can wait.”
Noubel threw open the door to the car park, sending it flying back against the fire escape. They hurried down the metal stairs to the tarmac.
“Did you get anything out of them?”
“Nothing,” said Noubel, jerking open the car door, slinging his jacket on the backseat. He forced himself in behind the steering wheel. “Silent as the grave, the pair of them.”
“More frightened of their boss than you,” said Moureau, slamming his door. “Any word on Authie?”
“Nothing. He went to Mass earlier in Carcassonne. No sign of him since them.”
“The farmhouse?” suggested Moureau, as the car jumped forward towards the main road. “Has the search team reported in yet?”
“No.”
Noubel’s phone started to ring. Keeping his right hand on the wheel, he stretched into the back seat, releasing a smell of stale sweat from under his arms. He dropped the jacket in Moureau’s lap and made frantic gestures while Moureau fished through his pockets.
“Noubel, oui?
His foot slammed down on the brake, sending Moureau flying forward in his seat. “Putain! Why in the name of Christ am I only hearing about this now! Is anybody inside?” He listened. When did it start?“ The line was bad and Moureau could hear the signal breaking. ”No, no! Stay there. Keep me in touch.“
Noubel tossed his phone on the dashboard, turned the siren on and accelerated towards the motorway.