by S A Monk
And she would never forget how he had moved in front of her and shielded her against her violent husband. His lack of fear of Reynald still amazed her. When her husband was in one of his towering rages, men cowered before him as they frantically searched for some way to escape him. What woman would not be deeply moved by the kind of chivalry and valor Brother de Aubric had shown?
But he had not been to see her since he had escorted her here. She understood, of course. He was busy and he was a monk, a Templar monk. He was forbidden to have regular discourse with her because of his vows. He could not treat her as anything other than a woman in need of his Christian protection. And his embrace that night had no doubt simply been intended for comfort. What a shame it was, though, for if ever there was a man that she would like to be more than a benefactor, it was the Templar.
+++
Two days later, he surprised her with a visit. A Hospitaller sergeant escorted him into the orphanage courtyard that served as a playground for the children. Gabrielle was playing stickball with the children again. They all recognized him immediately and begged him to join their game.
A dozen brown faces and big dark eyes circled him with eager grins.
Brother Lucien exchanged a look with Gabrielle, then laughingly accepted the children’s invitation as she exchanged her long stout stick for his billowing white mantle.
“It’s been a long time,” he warned his small audience. “You will have to remind me how to play.”
They were only too eager to offer instructions as they swarmed around his legs, all talking at once. The fact that he could speak fluently in their native tongue delighted them. Overwhelmed, Lucien finally chose an older, taller boy to be his teacher. After a brief coaching, the game began.
Gabrielle carried his Templar mantle to a bench under a shade tree and sat down to watch. While she did, she dusted off her tunic and trousers, slipped into her sandals, and attempted to rearrange all the hair that had come loose from the long braid that fell over her shoulder.
Brother Lucien was no stranger to the game, she discovered. It was a pleasure to see him laugh and play with the children. She doubted he’d done anything like it in a long time. He had the agility of a natural athlete. He certainly had more energy than she had after playing under the midday sun. His rigorous play even wore the children out after a while.
Gabrielle smiled as they dropped one by one onto the grass under the tree around her. Finally, even the eldest ones grew tired enough to call a halt to the game. After sending them to the well for water, she led Brother Lucien inside, to a small sitting room off the children’s dormitory. Once he was seated, she let him rest while she went for a pitcher of the cool well water.
When she returned, she handed him a wooden cup, then poured them both an ample amount of water.
Seated across from him at the small oak table, she stared at him beneath her lashes as she drank her water. Gabrielle thought he looked even more handsome than the last time she had seen him. He also looked tired, as if he had been working non-stop.
When he set his cup on the table, he looked over at her and smiled. It took her breath away. He had such a fierce dark beauty. His gaze was so penetrating and intensely observant. She remembered how fearsome and uncompromising he had looked that day in her room with her father and husband. He had no need to lose his temper with either man. The severity of his piercing dark expression had been intimidating enough.
His long brown fingers toyed with his cup and she refilled it, draining the pitcher. The domestic endeavor gave her a few moments to gather her composure. Other than the night she’d been attacked, this was the first time she’d been alone with him, and she couldn’t stop herself from feeling ridiculously happy about the fact.
“How have you been Brother Lucien?” she asked in order to break their prolonged silence. “Brother Giles tells me you have been quite busy trying to find out if we are on the verge of war. Is it as inevitable as everyone says?”
“It appears more and more that way.” The frown that crossed his striking features creased his brow and narrowed his dark brown eyes. “Saladin has issued a call to jihad. Your husband’s raid on the Egyptian caravan this past winter has enraged the Sultan and broken the truce he established with the Christians in ’85. Reynald rubbed salt on the wounds by selling all the captives from the raid at a slave auction in Acre a fortnight ago. It is rumored Saladin had family in the caravan. All were sold to buyers from Italy and the Byzantine empire, so there could be no chance of rescue or ransom.”
“My God!” Gabrielle did not try to hide her angry contempt. “Reynald is such a monster! He has been trading in slaves since being released from Aleppo. He often threatened to sell me,” she revealed bitterly. “You’d think that after having had his own freedom curtailed….”
“Your husband has no empathy, mi’lady, but he did gain much plunder from the raid, and he is loyally served by men who get wealthy serving him.”
“Men like my despicable father,” she snapped. “How I hate hearing the terms husband and father linked to me! I am ashamed to say that I have secretly prayed for their demise many times. So many lives would be saved if the Good Lord brought them to justice!”
“I can understand your prayers, and do not blame you for them. Men like Reynald and Armand are a greater threat to the kingdom than the Sultan.”
“Sometimes I think God has long ago abandoned us in our Christian cause because of men like my husband and father. No doubt they are happily anticipating war.”
Lucien gave her a look that demonstrated his agreement as well as his concern. “Has either one of them bothered you here?”
“Both of them came by at the beginning. I think Reynald wanted to test the strength of my sanctuary. He was well met by Brother Giles and some of his brethren. My father came by a sennight later, but he left without incident.”
“They will soon be too busy to bother with you. Saladin is moving into Oultrejourdan as we speak. He is going there to protect the pilgrim roads, but I have learned that he intends to attack Kerak as well. He will not be satisfied until he has destroyed Reynald and his little kingdom.”
Gabrielle could not find any sympathy for her husband or her father. “Reynald has brought it upon himself.”
Lucien silently agreed with her. It had been too long since he’d last seen her. He had discovered that he had missed her more than he should. He’d kept close tabs on her, but he’d stayed away purposely. He’d been busy, as she had said. He’d had duties to fulfill and contacts that demanded his time, but through it all, she had occupied his thoughts.
She was dressed in loose sky blue silk pants and a matching tunic again today. Her veil hung around her shoulders, leaving her dark head uncovered. Once again, it was plaited in a thick braid down her back. The heat and activity had released a multitude of fine silky strands which framed her face and hung down her neck in baby soft curls. Her lips were parted very slightly, giving him a peak of her pearly white teeth. They captured his attention. God help him! He’d spent an uncountable number of restless nights dreaming about claiming her lips with his own.
The memory of her in his arms the night she’d been attacked was as strong today as it had been a fortnight ago. Soft and pliant, sweet and enchanting. He could still smell her and feel her as she pressed, frightened against his chest. He’d crossed the line that night. He’d broken his vows, and he knew it. He’d wanted her then and now with a hunger that denied all restraint. He’d been so damned afraid for her that night when he’d realized it had been a fida’i after her. His desire to protect her was all mixed up with his need to be with her, to hold her in his arms again. It was unraveling him inside.
Her vulnerability before her bastard of a husband disturbed him deeply. But she had shown great courage in refusing to be bullied by him. It was yet one more thing to admire about her.
He had to help her. He wanted to help her. God’s blood! If anyone needed a champion, it was Gabrielle de Châtillon.
<
br /> She was inexorably becoming the most important thing in his life. He’d thought he might be able to purge his growing feelings for her if he simply stayed away from her for a while. But while he had kept tabs on her, he had been unable, in the end, to stay away. The need to see her again had been building like a water pipe ready to burst.
She was relatively safe here. Her friends took good care of her, but she couldn’t leave the compound, and he’d heard that was proving frustrating to her for she could do little, except care for her orphans. Reynald might be busy preparing to defend his fief, but another assassin was still out there. And this garrison would not be fully manned for too much longer. The brothers would soon be called to reinforce the ranks in their other garrisons. The Sultan was stirring and that meant extra caution at all their outposts.
“I understand the archbishop has been by to see you.”
The roll of her eyes told him what he had expected from the dithering patriarch. “He has been dragging his feet because he is angry with Reynald for putting Lady Silvia in the house I just vacated. He wants Reynald to end the relationship and send her back to Hebron before he petitions the Pope for an annulment. That could take forever! Reynald will not put Silvia aside, even for a little while. Apparently, he would rather murder me than do without his mistress for any period of time.”
Lucien had expected as much and had already talked to the patriarch. “I have persuaded Heraclius to petition the Pope now, without waiting for Reynald to send Silvia away. He sent the letter to his eminence two days ago. I watched him put it onboard a Venetian merchant vessel in Acre.”
“How did you get him to act?”
“I threatened to tell a certain merchant about the affair Heraclius is having with his wife.”
Gabrielle laughed at his wickedness. “Brother Lucien, everyone knows of Heraclius’ affairs, though this last one has been a bit more secretive, probably because the lady is still married.”
Lucien acknowledged the truth of her comment with a crooked smile. “Heraclius apparently does not know everyone knows, so my threat worked.”
“You are a devious man, frère.”
The creases on either side of his mouth deepened with a smile as he watched her dimples appear in her amusement. “It is what I do, mi’lady.”
“And I have heard from several sources that you are a master of your craft,” she revealed. “It is what gives you such freedom for a Templar, such autonomy, is it not?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Lucien was secretly pleased that she had been interested in him enough to seek information about him. That he was Chief of Intelligence for the Order was no secret. He was actually glad she knew. He wanted her to know about him, just as he wanted to know as much as he could about her.
“There have been no further attempts on my life here,” she offered, hoping to relieve at least some of his concerns.
He was not going to tell her that was untrue. Right after she had arrived, Brother Giles had intercepted another assassin. Because of it, Lucien had contacted his informant at the Assassins’ enclave above Masyaf, in Syria, to arrange a negotiation with Rashid al-Din Sinan, the Shi’ite imam and leader of the sect.
He wanted him to rescind Reynald’s contract on Gabrielle. The imam had been a tough negotiator, though. At first, he had wanted money, more money than Reynald had offered. Lucien did not have that kind of money, nor could he have acquired it. Finally, Sinan had requested the release of one of his sons from a Templar prison. Lucien had been unable to arrange it so far. The Grand Master’s permission was needed, and he had made it clear to Lucien that he was not going to give it. Of course, he had also taken the opportunity to severely chastise Lucien for his interference in Lord de Châtillon’s relationship with his wayward wife. The fact that Gabrielle was in danger of being killed by de Châtillon seemed to make no difference to de Ridefort. He cast it aside as being the plot of a jealous mistress, not a murderous husband.
He had then tried to get Sinan’s son released without de Ridefort’s permission or knowledge, but had not been successful yet. For a man who was used to accomplishing just about anything, it had been immensely frustrating. It was just a matter of time before another fida’i made an attempt on Gabrielle’s life. She was correct. Once a contract was made, it was fulfilled, no matter how long it took. Women were not usual targets of the Isma’ili, but Sinan no doubt overlooked that fact to gain something from the infamous Lord de Châtillon. For such a man to be indebted to the imam would no doubt be useful tender in the future.
In the face of his defeat, Lucien had devised another way to keep Gabrielle de Châtillon safe.
“Lady de Châtillon, I have been attempting to get the assassin contract on you removed, but have been unable to do so, so far. I do not think you have seen the last of their attempts on your life. The king is ready to call a general muster. The monks of Saint John will soon be dispersed to castles and fortresses elsewhere. You will not be as well protected here. And I must go to Tiberius to try to try to talk Count Raymond into ending his split with King Guy before it erupts into a civil war. I have put it off as long as I dare. With the kingdom so close to war, it is imperative that we present a united front.”
Gabrielle understood he had done as much for her as he could. In fact, he had done more than she had ever expected or hoped for. “You must go where you are needed, frère, and give me no further thought. I will be fine here, behind these walls.”
Lucien rose and came to stand beside her, a troubled look on his face. “You will not be fine behind these walls,” he argued with a touch of impatience in his voice that he swiftly stifled. “And I cannot, nor will not, give you no further thought.” With that bold statement, he went down just as boldly on one knee next to her and took her hand in both of his. “Right or wrong, you have come to mean a great deal to me these past weeks, Gabrielle de Châtillon. I have committed myself to your safety, and I will not abandon you to your husband’s merciless fate.” Seeing her astonished, speechless expression, Lucien smiled ruefully. “You do not need to say anything to all this. I understand I am being over-bold, but….” Surprising her yet again, he lifted her hand to his chest. “I want you to come to Tiberius with me. You must come,” he insisted when he saw doubt creep into her wide blue eyes. “It is the only way I can ensure your protection.”
“But, frère….” Gabrielle was stunned by his proposal.
Lucien raised one of his hands to halt any potential protest. “I have asked Lord Ibelin and his wife Maria Comnena to accompany us. I need him to help me make Raymond see reason, and I felt it would look more appropriate if you traveled with another woman. I have also asked Brother Giles and two of Hazir’s nephews to accompany us. Brother Giles may be able to help talk Count Raymond out of his mad alliance with the Sultan, and the brothers are for added protection. The countryside is no longer safe. Saladin’s troops are massing, and there are many mercenaries on the roads. For that reason, it would also be wise for you to dress as a Muslim. I will be doing so, and we may encounter less trouble traveling in disguise.”
“It sounds as if things have gotten much worse than I had imagined.”
“These are dangerous times.”
“All the more reason you should not be bothering about me.”
“That is not going to happen, lady,” he repeated implacably.
Gabrielle was once again astounded by him. His hand, wrapped around hers, was large and warm and wonderful. The anxiety on his handsome face was also wonderful, for it was all for her. Looking at him in that moment, she realized that she was very much in danger, God help her, of falling in love with him.
“I will go to Tiberius with you,” she responded, unable to hide her happiness as she cast a glance from his face to their joined hands. “I have not visited Count Raymond’s wife, Countess Eschiva, in a long time. And I enjoy Lady Maria’s company. It will be pleasant to get away from Jerusalem and all this trouble for awhile. When do you plan to depart, Brother L
ucien?”
“I would like to leave the day after tomorrow. Will that give you enough time to prepare?”
“Most certainly. May we go by horse? I have not ridden my mare in a long time. She has doubtlessly forgotten me.”
“Whatever is your pleasure, lady.” Lucien wished he could grant her every wish when she smiled at him as she did now. The two tiny dimples in her cheeks made her look so enchanting, he wanted to make her smile at him over and over. This path he was taking with her was getting more and more dangerous, but never had he desired to go down a path more.
+++
All the next day, Lucien thought about his decision to keep Gabrielle de Châtillon by his side. It might not be the wisest decision he ever made, but it was indisputably the best way to keep her safe from her husband’s assassins, and from her husband himself. Reynald was in danger of losing everything if Saladin was as determined as Lucien had heard. If he did lose Oultrejourdan, Hebron would at least give Reynald a new start.
Within a few months, Gabrielle could be free of her marriage. Lucien was fairly certain Heraclius’ petition for an annulment would be approved. But he would still be a monk and a Templar, though he had actually been thinking about leaving the Order. It was not the first time, but since meeting Gabrielle, the possibility had been whispering at the back of his mind again.
He had joined the Order more out of necessity than vocation. After his parents had been killed, his home had been recaptured by his mother’s brother. He’d had no place to go, no other family. The Templars and Brother Torroja, in particular, became his family.