Lion's Bride

by Iris Johansen

  She nodded wearily. She couldn’t comprehend what had happened here, but she accepted that it would be foolish to place Haroun in a position of danger. “I’ll need water to wash the boy’s wound.”

  It was a somber, grim Dundragon to which they returned. A pall hovered over the castle and the soldiers who guarded it.

  “Take him to my chamber,” Thea told the soldiers who lifted Haroun out of the wagon. The boy had not awakened during the journey. Perhaps he would never wake again.

  No, she would not think that. She slipped out of the wagon and started up the steps.

  “Send word to me when he wakes.”

  The command had issued from Ware standing a few feet away. He was still in full armor, and his expression was the same impassive mask he had worn at the village. Did nothing move him? Thea wondered.

  His hardness suddenly enraged her. “Why? So you can send him back to his village to die again?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment, and his expression never changed. “Send me word.”

  She turned on her heel and went into the castle.

  Haroun did not wake until near dawn the next day.

  “Mama…”

  Thea’s hand tightened around his. She would not lie to him. The pain would just be harder to bear later. “There were only two survivors of the fire. You and an old man…” She tried to remember the name Jasmine had mentioned. “Malik ben Karrah.”

  “Fire?”

  He had evidently been struck down before the fires had been set. “There was a fire.” She dabbed at his head with a wet cloth. “Try to go back to sleep.”

  His lids slowly closed. “Yes.” Two tears rolled down his cheeks. “Mama…”

  He was a child again, no longer the little proud soldier who had streaked about the courtyard carrying his torch like a bright banner. She wanted to gather him close as she had Selene on the morning their mother had died, but he was not her own. He belonged to no one now. She swallowed. “I promise it will be better soon.”

  She stayed there, holding his hand, until he went back to sleep.

  “You should go to your own bed,” Jasmine said as she set a fresh bowl of water on the table by the bed. “I’ll stay with the boy.”

  Thea shook her head. With his hand still clasped in her own, she felt that leaving him would be a betrayal. “You sleep. You’ve not rested either.”

  Jasmine hesitated and then finally nodded. “One of us must show some sense.” She moved brusquely toward the door. “I’ll tell Tasza to come to you in a few hours and see if you wish to rest. Tasza is good with children.”

  But not as good as she is with men, Thea thought dryly, then felt a sudden rush of shame. The girl had become a whore when she was a mere child herself. Who was Thea to condemn her for trying to find security in a world that could orphan children like Haroun in one night of horror? “That won’t be necessary. Perhaps she could come to see him in a few days when he’s better.”

  “Today.”

  Thea wearily shook her head as the door closed behind Jasmine. Why had she bothered to argue? The woman would do as she pleased. She supposed she should be grateful that Jasmine had decided it pleased her to help Thea. Heaven knew she had needed support this night.

  “The boy will live?”

  Thea stiffened when she saw Ware standing in the doorway. He was no longer in armor, but he might as well have been. His face was as hard as a shield.

  “I think so.”

  He came into the chamber. “Jasmine said he woke and spoke to you. I told you to send for me when he woke.”

  “Why should I? It seems Jasmine runs to you with every bit of news.”

  His gaze searched Haroun’s face. “I want to speak to the boy.”

  “No.” She moved protectively closer. “He’s sleeping again. I won’t have him disturbed.”

  “I have no intention of shaking him awake.” He sat down in the chair. “I’ll wait.”

  She did not want him there. His calm indifference grated on her control like salt on a wound. The world had ended for so many tonight and he did not care. “It may be hours.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  He was master there; she could not banish him. But she could ignore him.

  It was not necessary. He did not appear to know she was in the chamber. He stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him.

  Haroun opened his eyes three hours later. His gaze immediately fastened on Ware. “My lord?” he whispered.

  Ware bent forward. “I need something from you, lad. Are you well enough to help me?”

  Haroun nodded and then flinched. “But I cannot fight them…yet.”

  “No, I have soldiers aplenty. I need you to tell me something. I need you to think back to when the village was attacked.”

  “No!” Thea said.

  He didn’t look at her. “Can you do that for me, Haroun?”

  He nodded and closed his eyes. “They came at sundown. I was at the well drawing water for our evening meal. Mama was standing in the doorway.” He stopped. “When they rode into the village, she tried to get to me. They…the arrow—”

  “Stop this.” Thea glared at Ware. “There’s no need for this cruelty.”

  “Be quiet.” His gaze never left the boy’s face. “I don’t need to know about your mother, Haroun. Who were the men who attacked? Were they bandits?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t…think so. They were Franks but not clean shaven like most Franks. Beards…a red cross on their mantles.” His eyes opened, brimming with moisture. “Is it enough, my lord?”

  “It’s enough.” He rose to his feet. “You’ve done well. You have the makings of a soldier, lad. Now go back to sleep. We’ll talk again when you’re better.” He strode toward the door and glanced at Thea as he opened it. “Find someone to watch him and come to the Great Hall. I would have words with you.”

  She wanted words with him, too. She wanted to hurl the same foul words at him she had heard the camel drivers use. She wanted to push him from the battlements.

  “I’ve…done well,” Haroun said. “Did you hear him?”

  “I heard him.” She tried to keep the anger from her voice. “Now go back to sleep. When you awake, I’ll get you some broth to eat.”

  “I…did well….” He drifted off to sleep.

  Ware was standing at the window, looking out at the mountains when she strode into the hall.

  “That was cruel and unnecessary,” she burst out. “The boy has just lost his mother. Couldn’t you have waited until he healed a little?”

  “No. If the attackers were bandits, we would have pursued them.”

  “So that more people could die?”

  He didn’t turn around. “Yes, that is war.”

  “And it means nothing to you, does it? All those men and women and children…”

  “Everyone dies.”

  “Not like that.” She moved across the room toward him. “Those children…” She had to stop to steady her voice. “Not the children. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “No.”

  “Then why did it?”

  “My fault.” His voice was almost inaudible.

  “What?”

  “My fault. I thought it was the ones here at Dundragon who were at risk. That’s why I never let anyone but my soldiers stay too long. The villagers were no risk to them….” His fist pounded down on the windowsill. “Dammit, they were no risk.”

  She drew a few steps closer. “I don’t understand. Why—” Then she saw his face.

  Twisted, tormented with agony. She had never seen such pain.

  “They killed them just to let me know they could reach me.”

  “The Knights Templar? But they’re men of God. I can’t believe they would do that.”

  “Believe what you like.” He drew a long, harsh breath, and she saw his face become a shield once more. “But I believe it, and I must make sure it doesn’t happen again. Never again. I cannot bear—I must protect—” He turne
d to face her. “And I’ll start with you.”

  She took an involuntary step back at the sudden fierceness in his expression. “Me?”

  “They know what goes on at Dundragon. They will know you’re here.”

  “But I have nothing to do with you. I will leave here soon.”

  “Haroun had nothing to do with me. He was here for only a few days. His mother died…the village died.” His hands fell on her shoulders. “I’ll not stand by and see anyone else die for my sake. I want to know who you are and who they can reach through you.”

  “I wouldn’t tell Kadar.” She moistened her lips. “And I won’t tell you.”

  “I’m not Kadar.” His grasp tightened on her shoulders. “I’m not gentle or kind. I’m selfish and angry, and I’d just as soon throw you into a dungeon rather than see you die because of me. I will know everything about you.”

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “You should know by now that is what I do. I hurt and kill and—” He broke off and then said haltingly, “You have a warm heart, and I think you must have people you care about. Tell me who they are so that I can protect them.”

  Selene. But Selene had nothing to do with this. “She’s in Constantinople. She’s in no danger.”

  “The Knights Templar are everywhere. They can walk into any palace in Christendom and demand what they like.”

  “I can’t believe—”

  “Even if you don’t believe, do you wish to take the chance?”

  She didn’t know what to do. She could take no risk with Selene. Yet wasn’t revealing everything to him a greater risk to them both? “You’re certain it was the Knights Templar?”

  “They wear a cross on their tunics, and when they enter the order, they’re commanded to grow their beards.” His lips twisted. “I assure you I had no wish for Haroun to tell me I’d murdered his village.”

  “If I tell you…”

  “You will tell me.”

  She suddenly flared. “You won’t tell me what to do. I’ll decide what is best.” She paused. Kadar had said Ware always kept his word. Perhaps she could wrest some safety from this uncertain situation. “You must promise I will be free. You must promise that Selene will be safe and free.”

  “Who is Selene?”

  “You must promise.”

  “I promise you will be free. Who is Selene?”

  “My sister.”

  “And where is she?”

  “Still at the House of Nicholas. It was too dangerous to take her with me, not until I could find a place for us.”

  “There is no one else?”

  “No one I care about.”

  “Then I’ll have her brought here.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He released her and stepped back. “I can’t be worrying about someone so far away. She’ll have to come here.”

  Her heart leaped with hope. To see Selene again…

  He turned away. “I’ll tell Kadar to go fetch her.”

  “Wait.” She moistened her lips. “He may not want to let her go.”

  He turned, waiting.

  She hesitated and then said in a rush, “Selene is a slave.”

  He did not change expression. “And you?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her chin. “No. Not now. I’m a free woman.”

  “But this Nicholas would disagree with you. You ran away?”

  “It was not fair. I worked all my life in the House of Nicholas. My mother died in his service. I deserve to be free.”

  “But he will want you back?”

  “I have great value for him. He would be foolish not to want me back.”

  “What of your sister?”

  “She has skill but she is young. Her value is not as great.”

  “How young?”

  “Ten years.”

  He frowned. “Will he sell her?”

  “You would buy her?”

  “It’s the safest way to get her away from him. Is it possible?”

  “If the price is high enough.” Her lips twisted bitterly. “Nicholas is a merchant, and all things have a price.”

  “The price will be high enough.”

  She hesitated. “There is something he may use to drive up the price. You should expect it.” She paused. “Selene is his daughter.”

  He went still. “Yes, I’d say that would drive up the price. Is he your father, too?”

  “Yes, my mother bore him three children. My brother died when he was born.”

  “And he still kept you as a slave?”

  “It was not unusual for Nicholas to use his slaves for pleasure…if they were comely. At least two other women bore him children. But they were boys, and Nicholas took them away and made them servants in his house.”

  He said slowly, “I don’t think I like this Nicholas.”

  She waved an impatient hand. “You don’t have to like or dislike him. You must just realize he’ll use her birth to ask a higher price. You must not act too eager or he’ll cheat you.” She was afraid to believe this was happening. Her dream of bringing Selene to freedom would come true not in a few years but in a matter of months. “You can really do this?”

  “Kadar can bargain with anyone over anything. Why not a child?”

  Simple words. Why not a child? Why not Selene? Yet they were words that meant everything. “How soon?”

  “I’ll send him tonight…if it’s safe.”

  “This is a miracle,” she said unsteadily. “I cannot thank—I will repay you. I vow it.”

  “Miracles are not wrought by men like me. I’m not doing this for you or her. I’m doing it for me.” He moved over to the table and poured wine into a goblet. “I’ll have no more Jedhas.”

  “No one could know that such an evil would be committed.”

  “No?” He drank deep. “I’d wager the Grand Master de Ridfort didn’t consider what he ordered evil. He’s decreed any means are just if they bring me down.”

  She stared at him in bewilderment. “Why are they so angry with you? What did you do?” she whispered.

  “What did I do?” He poured more wine into his goblet. “They say I stole a wagonload of gold from the Temple storehouse. I’m sure you’ll not find that surprising. You called me a thief on our first meeting.”

  “I didn’t know you.”

  “But now you’re impressed with my honesty and gentle demeanor.”

  “You have no gentleness, but I believe you to be honest. You’re too impatient to indulge in deceit.”

  He smiled crookedly. “So even that attribute is tainted.”

  “You do have one virtue. You keep your promises.” She met his gaze. “And that’s the only virtue I care about. You said you’d bring me Selene, and I believe you.”

  He was silent for a moment, staring into her eyes. Then he turned abruptly away and said harshly, “Go back to the boy.”

  She started for the door and then stopped. She did not want to leave him alone. Beneath that hard, rough exterior she sensed a pain so great it was almost incomprehensible. “What can—Is there—Can I help you?”

  “Help?” He smiled mockingly. “Are you offering me your body as distraction?”

  She flushed with annoyance. She should have known better than to try to comfort him. Only fools tried to stroke a wounded animal. “No.” She turned on her heel.

  “Wait.” He was suddenly beside her. “My tongue is clumsy. I did not mean—I strike out when—” He muttered a curse and turned away. “Never mind.”

  He had been trying to say he was sorry, she realized. She was probably foolish, but she had to try again. “May I help you?”

  “I need no help.” He moved heavily across the room. “Yes, I do. One thing. Send someone with another bottle of wine.”

  THE EMBERS OF the conflagration still glowed dimly in the darkness.

  The odor of smoke and death was everywhere as Vaden moved slowly through the ruins.

  When he’d seen that malev
olent glow, he’d not been able to believe it. He had to come see for himself.

  “You madman,” he murmured. “Is it worth this?”

  The Grand Master thought killing Ware was worth destroying half the world. Vaden’s father no doubt agreed with him.

  He glanced at the distant castle, its torches burning bright. Dundragon no longer seemed quite so impregnable as it had these two years past.

  The net was drawing tighter.

  “How is the boy?” Kadar whispered when Thea opened the door later that evening.

  “Better. He ate a bowl of broth an hour ago. He’s back asleep again.”

  “I must speak to you before I go. Can you leave him?”

  She nodded, then came out into the hall and quietly closed the door. “I think he’s no longer in danger. I just want to be here when he wakes.”

  “Good. Then you can bid me a fitting good-bye. A few tears, a graceful wave of your hand as I ride through the gates.” He took her arm and urged her down the hall. “After all, a man deserves it when he sets out on a journey.”

  “You deserve more than that. Is it safe for you to set out tonight?”

  He nodded. “Ware rode out earlier today, and there’s no sign of any danger.”

  “He did? I didn’t think he would stir from the castle today. I left him in the Great Hall with a bottle of wine.”

  “Wine brings forgetfulness, but Ware doesn’t forget what it is his duty to remember,” he said as they started down the stairs. “He wouldn’t let me ride into danger.”

  “How do you go to Constantinople?”

  “I ride to Acre and then go by ship.”

  “How long will it take to bring her here?”

  “Two or three months. It would be sooner, but it may take me a while to pluck her away from your loving father.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I think I will be a wealthy merchant from Cairo who wishes to start his own silk-and-embroidery house. But not too wealthy. I cannot afford any of his most experienced embroiderers. I will choose one of the younger women who will be adequate now and better later. I will ask to tour the House of Nicholas, become struck with the skill of your Selene, and accept no other. Is that not a good plan?”