Kashmir

By Hargrove Perth

Nigellus Trudefeu stood as one of the finest Knights in the Poor Order of Templar Knights stationed in the remote outpost at Susa. A lucrative arrangement between the Sultan Amshere and the Order allowed the Templars to keep a strongpost at Susa as one of the many routes of the Crusades. Nigellus and his brother, Willem Kilfoile, spent many a sleepless night in the desert as escorts to wealthy noblemen and women who desired to see the riches of the strange and foreign lands surrounding Susa. A chance encounter through an act of sacrilege against a local tribe of Jhinn will test the heart and courage of Nigellus and force him to decide if he must follow his heart or follow the Code of the Templar to which he has dedicated his life. The answers he seeks can only be found on the road to Kashmir.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hargrove Perth
• Release date: Apr 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201573287

Hargrove Perth

A perpetual night-owl and lover of all things paranormal related, Hargrove spends a great deal of time researching the larger than life characters of history to formulate characters unforgettable and strangely adored. She writes horror, dark romance, fantasy, and paranormal in the Adult, New Adult, and YA categories. When asked why paranormal, she said, "I'm the girl who cries at the end when Frankenstein is misunderstood, who wants Dracula to keep Mina in his arms forever... I see the humanity in them that others cannot." 2014 Author of the Year by Double Decker Books in Historical/Horror Dark Days Remy Broulette. DDBA 2015 Author of the Year YA Fantasy Miss Crabtree's School for Unnaturals, DDBA 2015 Nominee YA Fantasy Chronicle:Dark Sea Triad, and DDBA 2015 Author of the Year Horror (comedic) Coven Wives.

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KASHMIR

Hargrove Perth

Copyright 2010 Kashmir, Library of Congress CLB

Second Edition written by Hargrove Perth

Cover Illustration Copyright 2017 by Dark Water Arts Designs

Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead was done so based on research and readily available information from various web sources.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form, or by any means whatsoever, including photo-copying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author. The Berne Convention Copyright Laws of 1988, and the Digital Millennium Copy Right Act of 1998, enacted by Congress protect this work from piracy and any transmission is strictly prohibited and will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Dedication

As with many writers, music is our muse, so it is with heartfelt thanks this book is dedicated to the members of Led Zeppelin whose song Kashmir is perhaps one of the greatest pieces of music in which I found inspiration.

For those who dare to dream of lands distant where fantastic creatures dwell... and with special thanks to Denise Fischer.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Prelude

The Hounds of Elsim paused at the crest of the sand dunes as they sought the scent of the men ahead of them. Their keen sense of smell enabled them to locate their prey quickly as they dashed across the searing sands.

Willem Kilfoile rode his black Arabian steed hard across the desert behind Nigellus Trudefeu, as fast as the horse would carry him. Willem glanced over his shoulder and saw the hellhounds quickly approaching. If they did not find shelter soon, Willem knew they would never survive the night and neither would Ziran at the hands of the Jhinn.

As Willem drew two arrows from his quiver, he asked God to grant him a clean shot and that his arrows be straight and true. The snap from the string of his bow was the last sound either one of them would hear in the world of man.

Chapter One

The Road to Elsar

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Trudefeu wrapped his long white scarf around his face. Blasted sand, he whispered as he prepared to saddle his horse.

He had served with his fellow Knights in Susa for nearly five years. Sir Nigellus Trudefeu was his given name, though the only Knights who referred to him in that manner were the younger ones. Trudefeu sighed as he brushed his horse down before placing the Egyptian blanket over the horse’s back. He was weary of the life he had chosen. Trudefeu had left his family behind, and he had never taken the time to call a woman his wife, though he had loved many. He had been a member of the Knights Templar for nearly seven years, beginning his service as a Squire. His unspoken deeds had led to his Knighthood. Nigellus was only twenty-four years in age, and he was weary from the life he’d chosen.

He thought about the life that could have been his if he had only chosen to stay in France and work his family’s vineyard. His brow was heavy from many years of war and being an escort to those who traveled the roads of the Crusaders. Yet he could not turn away from the life he had taken as his own even though he longed to have a wife and children.

Are you as weary as I? Trudefeu asked his horse and laughed as he fastened the saddle down.

Willem Kilfoile crept silently into the stable behind Trudefeu and dropped a scorpion onto the floor behind Trudefeu’s foot. As the scorpion crawled across the top of Trudefeu’s boot, he reached down slowly and ripped off the stinger.

When will you learn Willem, it takes more than a scorpion to make me dance? Trudefeu said and laughed.

One day, I will find a way to catch you off guard, Willem said as he hit his brother on the shoulder.

Willem stepped into the stall and began to oil down his saddle. His horse, his sword, and his saddle, were perhaps the finest in all of Susa. Willem had won the saddle in a bet with one of the local tribesman during an archery challenge. His horse had been a gift from the Sultan, and as far as Willem was concerned, there was no other horse in Persia that could match his amazing steed. His sword had been a gift from the Sultan’s daughter.

Willem Kilfoile and Nigellus Trudefeu had known each other since they were young lads. Willem was the black sheep of the Trudefeu family being that he was the bastard son. Willem’s mother died when he was only a babe, and Uric Trudefeu took him in against the wishes of his wife. It was scandalous enough that he had an affair with a common woman, let alone that he acknowledged Willem as his son.

Willem lived the first part of his life as a squire to the Trudefeu family until Nigellus discovered that Willem was his half- brother. Nigellus confronted his father when he learned the truth, and he abandoned his family shortly thereafter. It angered Nigellus that his father would acknowledge Willem enough to take care of his welfare but not enough to treat him like a son. Nigellus felt compelled to tell Willem the truth, and welcomed him to join him in the Crusades. This was when Willem became a Knight the same as his brother. It was also the same day that the Trudefeu family disowned Nigellus.

Even though Willem was a Trudefeu, he chose to keep his mother’s last name to honor her. She had given her life to give him his, and he felt it was only fitting. When he had learned he was a brother to Nigellus, Willem had been a squire for so long it was the only life he knew and being a Knight alongside the man who was not only his best friend, but also his kin, made Willem proud.

Where do we journey to this morning Nigellus? Willem asked.

The same as every morning, brother. This morn we escort the wealthy on the way to the Sacred Ruins of Elsar, Nigellus said as he led his horse from the stall.

Do you not ever tire of it? Willem asked. What?

Escorting self-righteous, pompous, and rich nobles to their sacred destination, Willem said crassly.

To each their own God, to each their own calling, Nigellus said as he waited for his brother to finish saddling his horse.

I am tired of being nothing more than a paid escort, Willem grumbled.

Nigellus burst into laughter at his brother’s lack of thought before speaking.

You might want to rephrase that Willem.

Willem glared at Nigellus before he finally smiled. He longed for the sport of war, conquest, and the clash of steel. All had been peaceful on the road to Jerusalem for many years. The Turks had not declared war or caused a skirmish. Many of the Templars had taken to being professional escorts to the wealthy nobles of Europe, granting them safe passage to see the strange and exotic world of the desert dwellers. But most of all, Willem was tired of the windblown desert without any hope of battle. At least if they were home, they could fight in the King’s army.

If we are going to be trapped in this desolate wasteland for the rest of our lives, we should at least be allowed the occasional sport of combat, Willem said as he slid his foot into the stirrup and pulled himself into the saddle.

Willem pulled his scarf over his face as he edged his horse to gallop out of the stable into the searing heat of the morning sun. Nigellus drove his horse past Willem as he rode ahead to meet the Nobles.

Sher-al-Semit watched as he stood above them on the dunes that traveled along the horizon. His robes danced in the wind that blew around him. Semit pulled his robe around him as he watched Willem and Nigellus. He knew they would be his pawns soon enough. There was no need to rush. As the sand continued to swirl, it obscured Semit from Nigellus and Willem’s view as they drove their horses into the blinding sun.

The caravan carrying the family crested the stone road that led to Susa. As Willem approached the caravan behind Nigellus, he wished they would just keep riding. Willem desired to see lands far from Susa. Lands that the other Knights had told him tales about; tales so grand and stories so lush they almost seemed a fable. Did the land of their riches truly live beyond the dunes as the other Knight’s had told Willem? Or was it all fanciful stories the men fabricated to pass the time?

Willem rode alongside Nigellus as they approached the husband and wife from Italy. They had paid a handsome price for their personal escort. Willem thought about the money they could have made if they had been able to keep it for themselves.

They did what any honorable Knight would have done; they kept only a small portion of the money for themselves. The rest of the money was willingly given to fund the Crusades. Though they had done what was only right in the eyes of God, Willem could not help but think about how much wealth they would have amassed in the last five years if they had kept just a little more for themselves.

Baron and Baroness Cipriello stepped from the wagon that was their transport. The Baroness stood next to her husband with her hair blowing in the wind. Nigellus pulled an elaborately embroidered scarf from his saddlebag and handed it to her.

Cover your hair, Nigellus said coldly.

I will do no such thing, the Baroness said boldly. You will, or there will be no travel to the ruins at Elsar,

Willem said as he stepped alongside his brother. Your arrogance will not cost my brother and me our lives. He said to cover your hair, so do it, or you will go no further. You will not offend the nomads and bring their wrath down upon us.

Willem tore the scarf from Nigellus’ hand and thrust it into the hand of the Baroness. As was customary, Willem stood behind Nigellus. He often forgot he was Nigellus’ brother and companion in arms and not the squire he once was.

Are all the Templars so rude and lack common graces? Baron Cipriello asked Nigellus as he glared at Willem.

Not rude, my lord, but sensible. We have lived long among the nomads here. The only women who show their hair are the wives of the Sultan. It is forbidden for any other to display their womanly nature. It is an affront to his wives, Nigellus replied.

Baron Cipriello took the scarf from his wife and wrapped it around her hair. He thought it to be an ignorant display of heathenism, but he had paid a small fortune to travel to the ruins at Elsar and could not justify letting it slip through his fingers.

I hope your wife can ride, Willem said and laughed to himself. He thought she had probably never seen a horse up close let alone ridden one.

Much to his dismay, the Baroness took the reins of the horse, hooked them around the saddle’s horn, and showed little modesty as she hoisted up the hem of her dress to put her foot in the stirrup. Nigellus shook his head as he looked at Willem. The Baroness rode like a man and not a woman.

Willem nodded at his brother and smiled. He found great pleasure in tormenting and instilling fear into the wealthy wayward travelers who came to Susa, and Nigellus was kind enough to support his brother’s repeated antics. The Sultan did not care one way or the other if the women kept their hair covered. The only reason most of the women who resided in Susa covered their hair was due to the constant blowing sand and nothing more. It had nothing to do with offending the Sultan or his many wives.

It would take four hours to escort the Baron and his wife to the ruins at Elsar. Willem feared the journey before them was going to be a very long one.

I am Nigellus Trudefeu. This is Willem Kilfoile. We will be your escorts to the ruins at Elsar. There are a few details we must discuss before we begin the journey, and I must ask that you abide by what I am about to tell you.

Willem secured their provisions on the packhorses while Nigellus told their high-priced guests about the perils of traveling across such a large expanse of desert. They would be the ones who would have to answer for what happened to the travelers should any tragedy befall them. If they were unwilling to abide by Nigellus’ wishes, he would turn around and bring them back to Susa. One too many a wealthy traveler had succumbed to the desert for not listening to the words of the Knights who guided them. Nigellus was not going to become one of them.

Do not stop to watch the native desert people. This is their land, and we must be respectful of their traditions. The Baroness should not address them first if we should happen to encounter them. Let Willem or me do the speaking. They are accustomed to our presence here and many have befriended us, but they do not take kindly to strangers. Many a wealthy nobleman has come here to raid their land of their sacred riches. They are wary of strangers, Nigellus said and then paused as he tightened the reins of his horse.

Do not, no matter how curious you may be, stray from the path. You must follow one of us always. The road to Elsar can disappear quickly in the swirling sands. It is easy to become disoriented and lose your way. Willem and I have traveled this route many times. We know the landscape and what to look for as we travel. There are many dangerous creatures in this land. Snakes and wind scorpions are but a few as well as the Caspian Tiger and desert leopards. There are no antidotes for the snakes that dwell here, and the bites of the wind scorpion are prone to infection. It is easy to become disoriented and lose your way. If you stray, we will not follow to search for you.

Nigellus threw the reins of his horse over the animal’s head and fastened them to the horn of his saddle. The easiest part of their journey already lay behind them.

The sand swirled across the desert landscape as Trudefeu and Kilfoile edged their way toward Elsar with the Baron and his wife in tow. They could only travel for an hour at a time before they would need to rest the horses and erect a lean-to for the animals and themselves to seek shade. Though the Arabian horses they had were more accustomed to the desert heat than other horses, they were still no match for midday sun.

Nigellus, we should seek shelter soon, Willem said as he shielded his eyes as he looked upward toward the sun.

They were only an hour into their journey when the sandstorm began. Willem quickly pulled the large pieces of canvas from the packhorse and unpacked them as both the wind and the sand began to howl. Nigellus took the Baron and his wife under his sheet of canvas and instructed them to hold it down as Willem stretched his piece over the horses to shield them from the sand.

The sandstorm lasted for well over two hours before it began to lessen. It was now high noon and much too dangerous to travel. Willem and Nigellus decided they would wait until the sun was lower in the sky before they traveled any further. The Baron Cipriello and his wife were little help to Willem and Nigellus as they pitched the canvas tents and laid the blankets inside.

It must be a wonderful luxury to have others do everything for you, Willem grumbled as he drove the wooden spikes for the tent into the sand.

Nigellus ignored Willem as he continued to mumble under his breath as he unloaded the packs. An hour had already passed since the sand storm had ceased. Sweat ran down his brow as he reached for his scarf to dab his forehead. With the tents now set, all that was left was to toss the blanket down inside for the Cipriello’s to sit on.

Nigellus pulled a bag of dried fruits and nuts from the saddlebag of his horse along with several canteens of water and some saffron tea. It was one of the customs he had taken on as his own from the nomads. Nigellus always had dried fruit and hot tea each day. It was a tradition he now observed faithfully and was one of the many customs he enjoyed from his time in Susa.

Nigellus parted the tent flap and went inside to spread the blankets. Once they were in place, he ushered the Cipriello’s inside and took water to the horses. They were only an hour away from the Shustar Waterfalls they left behind at Susa, and yet it seemed a lifetime away in contrast to the desert which surrounded them. As Nigellus watered the horses, Willem came around the side of the tent and stopped just short of the horses.

Glance to your left brother, Willem whispered. He’s been following us since we left Susa.

Nigellus kept his head still as he looked to the horizon on his left as he continued to hold the waterbag for his horse. He could barely see the outline of a man standing against the backdrop of the sun.

Smart man. He stands where it is difficult to be seen, Nigellus said as he continued about his business.

Are you not even the least bit curious as to why he is following us? Willem asked.

He will make his intentions known soon enough, Nigellus replied as he continued to care for the horses.

Have you no desire brother to know why it is that he is following us?

You long for conquest and war Willem. You are younger than I am and have not yet tired of this life. Where you long for the clash of your blade against another, I long only for the soft bosom of beautiful woman to share my nights with instead of my horse, Nigellus said and