by David Penny
Isabel stopped when they came out and she saw the farmhouse and, beyond it, the rising walls of al-Hamra.
She turned to him. “This is the place?”
“It is.”
“Oh, Thomas, it is perfect. Thank you.” She squeezed his fingers.
Thomas looked around to discover they were not alone. Usaden sat on the hillside, his knees drawn up. Kin lay on his side at his feet. Thomas gave a nod and Usaden nodded back.
Thomas drew Isabel forward and they closed the narrow gap to the farmhouse.
“We need to climb the stairs,” he said. “I tested them and they will take our weight, but I will go first, you come up after.”
Isabel looked around, unimpressed with the state of repair of the building.
“Are you sure the walls are sound?”
“Sound enough, and there is nowhere better.”
“Then let us go.” She released his hand, but he offered it again when she followed him.
As they rose into the upper room and Isabel turned to the broken window, she gasped, her eyes wide. The afternoon sun painted the walls of al-Hamra in a soft light. It might have been only a hundred paces away rather than five times that.
“It is truly a wonder,” said Isabel.
“Sit on the bed.” Thomas led the way. “You can gaze on the palace as much as you like from there. I moved it so your view is unbroken.”
“You will sit with me?”
“It would not be seemly, Your Grace.”
She slapped his chest.
“Who will ever know?” She walked to the bed and sat after examining the covers. They were clean. Thomas had seen to that. She gazed across at the palace. “Do you think they can see us as well as we can see them?”
“The sun is behind this house, so the room is in shadow. Nobody can see anything within it from that direction.”
“Was that your man I saw on the hillside with your dog?”
“It was.”
“Will he say anything?”
“Usaden?”
Isabel laughed, raising a hand to cover her mouth. She looked around.
“Perhaps we can repair this house and come here together. It could be our secret place. We can have assignations.”
Thomas went to the bed and placed a hand on her brow, wondering if she had a fever, but it was cool to his touch. Isabel turned her head so his palm ran across her cheek and he withdrew it quickly.
“Sit beside me.” It was an order, but one Thomas was content to follow. He ensured there was a seemly space between them when he sat.
“What is that? And that?” Isabel pointed, and Thomas explained about everything she asked. She wanted to know who the people on the ramparts were and he told her. She wanted to know how many rooms and he said he had no idea, but soon she could count them for herself. She wanted to know how many people lived in the palace, how many in the city, and he lied to her, unsure if the information might not be used against it.
Without being aware of either of them moving, Thomas felt the slightness of her against his flank. When he turned, she was no longer looking out at the palace, but up at him, her eyes wide, sharp with some emotion he dared not even try to understand, only that he was sure she would see the same need in his own. This place, this moment, was outside of time. They were cut loose from all ties and responsibilities.
“Oh, Thomas,” she said, and when Isabel lifted her face, Thomas lowered his head and kissed her. She clung against him, gripping his shoulders as she pulled him back onto the bed.
Chapter Forty
Thomas was unaware he had fallen asleep until a hand shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find Isabel leaning over him. Her hair hung free, fine strands stroking his face to enclose them both in a golden tunnel.
“Men are coming.”
He rolled off the bed and went to the window. He saw no one between Gharnatah and the house, but when he leaned out and looked north, half a dozen men on horseback were riding fast towards the house.
“How did you see them?” He turned to Isabel, who still sat on the bed.
“I told her.”
Thomas spun around. Usaden stood at the head of the stairs, as still as he always was. Thomas wondered how much he might have seen, knowing whatever it was didn’t matter because he would never speak of it. He saw Isabel glance at Usaden and a flush coloured her cheeks, showing she shared his thoughts.
“Only six men?” Thomas said.
“Agreed, but I think they are Turks. They are outstanding fighters. Do you have a weapon?”
Thomas patted his hip. “A knife, nothing more.”
“Then it is fortunate I thought to bring another sword.”
“Are they coming for Isabel?”
“Well, they do not want me. I know you have made enough enemies to make you their target, but I would judge it the Queen they are after.”
“Theresa is going to kill me,” Thomas said under his breath.
“Only if the Turks do not. How do you want to do this? We could stay here and fight as they climb the stairs, but I would rather do it outside. Leave her here, it is as safe as anywhere else.”
“And if they kill us both?” Thomas leaned out again, feeling the stone he gripped move beneath his touch. This whole adventure had been a bad idea.
“She is no more at risk here than outside. Less so.”
Isabel rose and came across the room.
“Go, Thomas, fight them. I will find somewhere to hide. Under the bed if I have to. Besides, they will not kill you, nor Usaden. I know you both. You cannot be killed.”
Thomas wished he believed her. He pressed his knife into her hand, not knowing if she even knew how to use it. He thought of stealing a last kiss, aware that was what it might be, but did not want to do so in front of Usaden. But when he turned away, Usaden had gone, and Isabel grasped his wrist.
“This will always be our magical day, Thomas. Thank you, my love.” She raised her face to his, and then Thomas followed Usaden down the stairs.
As he stepped through the rear door, Usaden thrust a sword into his hand. Kin was already running towards the approaching men, who were close now. At this distance, Thomas saw Usaden was right, they were the Turks, but he couldn’t see Koparsh among their number. How did they know where he and Isabel were, and how did they know they would be unprotected? Except they were not.
Kin reached the lead horse and snapped at its ankles. For a moment, Thomas feared the horse would trample the dog, but Kin was too fast, too agile. He inflicted no damage, but he made the horses lose their stride. In one case so badly, a rider was thrown clear.
Five men now. The odds had improved.
“Over there,” said Usaden, showing where he had been sitting with his back to a low cliff. “Better we have height.”
Thomas ran after him, knowing he could not keep up and not trying. When he glanced back, the men had changed direction and were heading to cut them off. Except Usaden was too fast. He turned to confront the first man, ducking a wild swing of the rider’s sword.
Thomas discovered himself separated from Usaden by the five men. He glanced back at the farmhouse, relieved to see nobody had gone to it. The Turks had formed an outward facing circle. Three men confronted Thomas, two Usaden. They had marked him as the smaller and so less dangerous. It was a mistake that had seen men killed before, and today was no different.
Usaden attacked at an impossible speed at the same moment Kin returned to the battle, once more snapping and snarling beneath the horses. The dog leapt and sank his teeth into the thigh of one man, who flailed out with his sword, but Kin was already gone.
Thomas ran at the man on his right, ducked his sword and plunged his own blade into his belly. The man swung again, but there was no force to the blow and he clung to the reins as his horse cantered away. The other man dismounted, knowing Thomas would be easier to fight on the ground. In most circumstances, it would have been the right decision, but the man had forgotten about Kin. The dog streaked in and caught hi
s sword wrist. Kin shook his head, snarling as blood spattered from his lips. Thomas almost felt sorry for the man until he remembered why he had come.
When he looked up, he saw Usaden had killed two of the men, but the third had fled. Already he was two hundred paces away, his body laid almost flat against his horse as he urged it to greater speed. Thomas stepped close to the man Kin had by the wrist and ran him through without a moment’s regret.
“Shall I follow him?” asked Usaden, his hand on the reins of one of the horses.
“We both will, once I check that Isabel’s safe.”
“Take her back. Take two of their horses, then come and find me.”
“I can never track you. Go, follow and return to tell me where he goes.”
“Do you want me to kill him if I catch him?”
Thomas looked at the farmhouse, something working its way to the top of his mind. He glanced around. Four men littered the ground. A fifth was fleeing.
“If you catch him, bring him back. I assume you can do that?”
“I would rather kill him.”
“And I would rather question him to find out why they came. Nobody knew I was going to bring Isabel here.”
“Somebody must have.” Usaden swung into the saddle. Normally he rode without one, but Thomas knew he could ride anything. “All right, I will bring him back to you. If I catch him, which grows less likely the longer we talk. I can always kill him after you have asked your questions. Kin, come!” Usaden urged the horse into a gallop.
Thomas turned back to the farmhouse, then ran. There had been six men. One was missing. He ran harder.
He found Isabel sitting on the bed, and at first he thought his fears without foundation. Then he saw the blood.
He pushed her down and patted her body, but found no wound, despite the blood that soaked her front. Then he saw his knife discarded on the covers.
“Where is he?”
Isabel stared into space, and Thomas shook her hard.
“Where is the man?”
Isabel blinked as she regained her wits.
“He fell through the window.”
Thomas rose and went across to it. When he looked down, he saw a body. From the amount of blood pooled around it, the man had to be dead.
“Who knew you were coming here?”
“Only Theresa.”
“Theresa would never betray you, but somebody has. The Turks knew you were here. They have tried to take your life before, and this time they risked a direct attack. Would Theresa have told anyone? Martin, perhaps?”
“Martin would not betray me either. Perhaps they followed you the first time you came here.”
Thomas thought about her words before shaking his head.
“Usaden was with me, he would have known if we were being watched. He has uncanny senses.”
When Thomas looked up, tears streaked Isabel’s cheeks.
“This was the happiest day of my life, and now the memory of it will be forever tainted.” She picked the knife up and Thomas reached out and took it from her, knowing she spoke the truth. It was one more turning point. Had the attack not come, their lives might have shifted on their axes. But the attack had come and Isabel had taken a life. Almost certainly for the first time.
“There are horses outside. I have to get you back.”
“Can I come to your house? I do not want to return to the real world yet.” She stared at him until Thomas nodded, though exactly why he did so, he couldn’t say.
“The children will be pleased to see you.”
“Who were they?” She looked through the window at the now deserted landscape, her eyes drawn to the palace. “Where are the others?”
“I’m convinced Koparsh sent them. Now they’re all dead but one, and Usaden is after him.”
“Then I feel sorry for him. Will he kill him?”
“I hope not. I asked him to bring him back so I can find out why they came. Find out who told them you would be here. This is no coincidence. They knew it would only be the two of us. We were lucky Usaden was out there.”
“I must reward him. He saved us both.”
Thomas wondered if that was true or not, but suspected it was. He had fought such odds before, but he had been younger then.
“He expects no reward.”
“That does not mean he deserves none. He is your friend, is he not? Your good friend?”
“He is. Not like Jorge, but we are close in a different way.”
“He deals in death, as do you.” She lifted a hand to still his lips before he could speak. “I know you do, Thomas. It is why I feel safe with you. Safer than I do with my husband.” Her chest hitched and a tear ran down her cheek. “Today was—”
This time it was Thomas’s turn to still her words. “You must never speak of it again, and neither will I. This day did not happen. We stepped outside the world for a few hours, that is all. Nothing happened.”
“But—”
“Nothing happened.” Thomas took one last look around, knowing they would never again return to this place. He saw the blood-stained bed, the trail of blood across the floor where the man had tried to flee, and the linen sack of food Theresa had given him. They had not touched the contents, and as Thomas stared at it, he knew who had betrayed them.
“Did you ask your cook to prepare this for you?” He picked the sack up. “Did you ask her for enough food for two?”
“I did not do it myself, but I asked Theresa to do so for me.”
“Did she tell her what it was for?”
“I asked only for food I could carry, nothing that would spoil.”
Thomas threw the sack through the window with a curse at his own stupidity.
Jorge looked at Thomas and tilted his head in that way he had, which was barely a movement but carried a thousand questions. Thomas ignored them all. Let him spin his own flights of fancy.
“Isabel!” Will rose to his feet and came across to hug the Queen of Castile, then stopped when he saw the blood-stains on her dress. She went to one knee to greet Amal, looking at Thomas over his daughter’s shoulder.
“You are the most fortunate of men,” she said as she rose. “And who is this?”
Belia had entered with Jahan on her hip, one side of her robe barely covering her breast.
“This is Jorge’s son, Your Grace,” said Belia. “His name is Jahan. It means the world in my language, because he is the world to me and Jorge both.”
“I would ask to hold him, but I fear I am in no state.”
Belia crossed the room until she was close to Isabel and held Jahan out to Jorge. There were times Thomas looked at the boy and almost forget how he had come into this world. If he thought of it at all, he considered Jahan looked most like Belia, and even a little like Jorge. Which he considered fortunate. Except Isabel was a clever woman.
“He is Jorge’s son, you said?” she asked.
“He is.”
Isabel reached out and stroked Jahan’s cheek, tickled his belly, which finally raised a laugh from him.
“Can he walk yet?”
“A little if you hold his hand, but he enjoys being carried more. Like his father.”
Isabel looked at Jorge, who only smiled.
Belia held her hand out, waiting until Isabel took it.
“Come with me, I will show you where you can wash, and then I will find you one of my robes. I will burn those clothes you wear.” She glanced at Thomas for confirmation, and he nodded.
When they were gone, Will came to stand next to Thomas.
“Is Cat coming, and Juan?”
“Juan is with his father, but we could send for Catherine and the others. I’ll ask Isabel when she comes back.”
Thomas tried to work out when Usaden was likely to return, and when he did, if he would have a prisoner with him. He knew he should question Isabel’s head cook. But he also knew this day was already unlike any other he had ever experienced, so gave a nod. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Thomas knew he needed
to wash, but perhaps he should wait until Isabel was clothed once more.
Jorge stood beside Thomas on the narrow terrace as they watched Will stride down the slope in the direction of the Castilian camp. He had a message from Isabel to her children saying those who wanted to come could accompany him back to Thomas’s house. He also had a message for Martin de Alarcón to take the head cook into custody. Thomas had watched Isabel write her note in his study in her neat hand. There had been no message for her husband. Thomas whispered his message for Martin into Will’s ear so no one else could hear.
Now Jorge held Jahan’s hand to help him stand, while Jahan also gripped Amal’s in his other. Isabel had gone to the kitchen with Belia, who promised to show her how to add spice to food to improve the taste.
“So, did you?” asked Jorge.
“I killed a man, if that’s what you’re asking, so I should probably wash before we eat.”
“It is a shame Isabel has already washed or you could ask her to join you.”
They watched Will disappear into the throng of the camp.
“Nothing happened,” Thomas said, wondering if he said it enough times, it would make it real.
“She knows Jahan is your son,” said Jorge. “I saw it in her eyes when she looked at me.”
“Then that is another thing you are wrong about today. Jahan is your son. Yours and Belia’s. I have my two children, and you have your one.”
“And a girl—don’t forget you promised me a girl.”
“Not today, please.”
“Helena told me you always took some time to recover, even with her.”
“I am an old man.”
“And bad-tempered.”
“Would you have me any other way?”
Jorge smiled. “I recognise the impossible when it is standing in front of me.” He turned his head to look at Thomas. “Be careful. You are walking across burning coals, and I would not have you burst into flames. Is Usaden really chasing down a man? What happened?”
So Thomas told him. Not everything, but he told Jorge of the attack, of the six men, and that they were Turks. He told him of his suspicions of the cook. He knew he should be asking questions, but all of that could wait until the morning. Today was a day for friendship. And love.