by S A Monk
Lucien set his goblet of red claret aside and burst out laughing. “My God, that must have taken a good deal of persuasion on the king’s part to pry that gold out of de Ridefort’s tightfisted hands!”
The queen nodded. “Cresson shocked us all. That was a terrible loss of men. I think de Ridefort felt the need to restore his image.”
“He was the reason for that needless loss of life,” Lucien pronounced bitterly.
“In the final analysis, I think he knew that. It was probably what prompted him to turn over the gold. It went a long way to putting him back in the king’s good graces.”
Gabrielle had been sipping her wine and nibbling on the dates and nuts, quietly listening. Truth be told, she was teetering on exhaustion. They had ridden hard from Damascus, and been in the saddle sunup to sundown for four days. The potent wine was only making her drowsy. Still, she had to know one thing before she begged her leave.
“What word have you, Sibylla, of Reynald and Armand?”
“The fortresses of Kerak and Montreal remain in their hands, but they have lost the rest of the demesne. Saladin’s troops have ravaged the countryside, and encouraged all Muslim residents to flee across the border to Syria. Reynald and your father answered the king’s call and rode with him to Acre. Their garrisons continue to hold out against the sultan’s forces. Silvia is staying at your house here in Jerusalem.”
Gabrielle nodded. “I had not intended to go back there.”
“I banned her from the palace when I heard that she had assassins after you.”
“I do not think it was her who set them upon me.”
“Your husband, then?” Sibylla asked sympathetically.
“Yes. Lucien and I met with Saladin and his general, the Blue Wolf, while we were in Damascus.” When she saw the queen’s eyes widen, she smiled. “I will tell you all about it later. It is an interesting story, to say the least. But Amir Gökböri assured me the Assassin leader had been persuaded to leave me alone. I do not expect any more attacks on my life, and I am no longer in need of sanctuary. I will continue to work at the orphanage. I found people who are going to help me place the children in good Muslim homes. I think we will have to wait until things calm down to do so, though. But right now,” she sighed, “I am just too tired to think straight. We traveled hard from Damascus.”
“You should both seek your quarters then. I have kept you much too long. We will talk again before you leave, Lucien. And Gabrielle, you must stay here for a while. I have been worried about you, you know.”
“I will spend some time with you,” Gabrielle agreed, feeling the queen’s loneliness and anxiety. “And thank you for your concern.”
When Sibylla rose, so did her two guests. Gabrielle stepped up to the young queen and hugged her.
There was a sheen of moisture in Sibylla’s eyes when they separated. “We will need to be strong together in the coming months, Gabrielle. I will lean on you, and you on me.” The queen smiled wanly, then rang a bell for her servants. When one appeared, she shooed both Lucien and Gabrielle away. “Go now and rest. Enjoy your evening. I will bother you no more today.”
They were escorted to apartments on the top floor of the palace. As soon as the servant left them, they wandered through the three rooms. The spacious, sumptuously appointed chambers were discreetly connected by a tiled bathing room. The small pool in the center of the lamp lit room was sunk into the marble floor, surrounded by marble benches that were topped with thick silk cushions. Drying sheets made of luxuriant Egyptian cotton were folded on a table in one corner, and two silk robes, one for a man and one for a woman, hung on pegs. An assortment of soaps and oils was laid out near the pool’s edge.
“Scandalously decadent,” Gabrielle giggled.
“No more so than our rooms,” Lucien pointed out. “My God, I could get lost in either one of those beds, they are so enormous. I’m afraid my Templar ascetics have gone into shock. But,” he said with a wicked glint in his eyes as he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, “I intend to do all of this justice…. After you get some rest.”
“And you?”
“I have to see to a few things, but I promise I will be gone only a couple of hours at the most.”
Her hand rose to his cheek and caressed it lovingly. “Be quick. Be careful.”
+++
It was the end of June and the weather had grown warmer, taking on the full heat of summer. Even as the sun started its daily descent to the west, the air was still heavy. Gabrielle awoke from her afternoon slumber damp with sweat. Rising from the magnificent silk canopied bed in her chamber, she went to the row of wood shuttered windows and opened each, letting in the sporadic breezes that drifted across the quiet city rooftops.
From this corner tower of the palace, she caught glimpses of the streets below. They were uncommonly empty for early evening. It was as if the city was holding its breath, waiting, just as she was doing.
She and Lucien had spent over two months together, but she was so afraid this would be their last night together. She knew he was out there right now, preparing to depart for Acre tomorrow. How could he not? He had a duty to his king. He could not remain here with her. She knew that, but she had to remind herself over and over, and the necessity of his duty did nothing to lessen her grief over having to let him go.
It would not be long now until the Christians went to war with Saladin. Both armies had been amassing their forces for over two months. Every able-bodied man under the age of three score was gone from the streets of Jerusalem.
Lucien had been right all along. The battle would begin near Tiberius. Both armies were settled in on either side of the lake there; the Christian army at Sephorie, to the southwest of the lake, and the Arab army on the Golan bluffs, to the east of the lake, not far from the cave she and Lucien had stayed in weeks ago.
Thinking about their locations made her realize that Raymond’s castle sat in the center of the opposing armies. It must have been why Lucien had not allowed Gabrielle to return there after leaving Damascus. It would be much too dangerous in the weeks to come. Count Raymond must be with the king in Acre, but where was Lady Eschiva and the rest of her family; her daughters-by-law and grandchildren? Hopefully, they, too, had escaped to a safer place.
By the Blessed Virgin! If Saladin won the battle that was sure to be waged at Tiberius, he would undoubtedly march straight to the coast, then to Jerusalem. His life’s goal, afterall, had been to reclaim the Holy Land and the Holy City. After meeting him, Gabrielle knew if anyone could accomplish such a challenging feat, it would be him. He was a magnificent leader, a mesmerizing man, a ruler like no other before him.
In fact, she had come away from meeting him in conflict over her loyalties. She could understand the issues on both sides of this godforsaken war. Heaven help her! She had friends on both sides! Could there not be a solution other than war? Men always seemed so eager for it. Gabrielle didn’t want to lose any of her friends to it, most especially Lucien. What if he died and Reynald survived? The consequences terrified her. She could never return to her old life, not after knowing and loving Lucien de Aubric.
She had to fight the despair that was threatening to overwhelm her. She did not want it to tarnish her last night with Lucien. She did not want to fall apart in front of him. She had to remain hopeful. She had to remain strong, so that he would. Surely a just and merciful God would return him to her. She would put her faith in Christ, and continue to pray vigorously for this man He had sent into her life to love and cherish.
With those fortifying thoughts, she made preparations for their night together, then changed into the stunning silk robe the queen had sent up along with a few other things. She had just finished brushing out her long hair when a servant knocked on the door and ushered in others who carried in ewers of wine and water and several bowls and trays of delicacies for the evening meal.
As they were finishing setting the table in her room, Lucien came through the door. Several of the
younger serving girls glanced at him and giggled. Gabrielle shooed them out with a thank you and closed the door behind them.
“Have I died and gone to heaven?” he laughed, scanning the food, the bed, and lastly Gabrielle.
She flushed under his scrutiny. “I hope you will feel that way by morning,” she replied as she crossed the room to him. “Would you rather eat first or bathe?”
“Which do you suggest?” The teasing glint in his eyes nearly left her witless.
“I suggest we eat first. Bathing could take a while.”
While they ate, seated at chairs on either side of the well-laden table, Lucien talked about his decision to leave on the morrow. “I hate to leave you, Gabi, but the king is going to need my intelligence as soon as possible.”
“I understand, Lucien. You must do your duty. There are people depending on you.” Gabrielle was pleased with her calm, logical response, wishing all the while she could beg him to stay.
“I think you will be safe enough here in the city. Reynald and your father will be with the king’s forces, as I will. Hazir knows you will come to him when you need to. I believe the queen may need you for a while, though. This appeared hard on her. With Guy gone, she has been left alone to see to the needs of city.”
“Sibylla has been good to me. I will stay with her as long as she needs me. Did you go by the Hospitaller commandery?”
“Aye. They have elected a new grand master, but there are only elderly brothers left at the preceptory. I visited Brother Giles’ grave. They erected a simple stone cross bearing his name and years of service above it. They will allow you to visit it, I was told.”
Tears blurred Gabrielle’s eyes. “He was such a good man; such a good friend. I do not know what I would have done without him after I left Kerak. I will miss him dearly.”
“As will I. We were friends many years, as well.”
Despite the wide variety of appealing edibles set before her, Gabrielle had only picked at the food on her brass trencher. “How long will it take you to reach Acre? The king has more than a day’s head start on you.”
Lucien took a sip of his wine and continued to heartily attack the food on his own trencher. “A day and a half, if I ride hard. The king rides with many. They will travel more slowly.”
Gabrielle set her cup aside. “What will you do when you cross paths with the Grand Master and Reynald?”
Lucien lifted his gaze and saw the concern in her stunningly deep blue eyes. “I will ignore the Grand Master, but I may just run a sword through your accursed husband the moment an opportunity arises.”
Those eyes widened with alarm until she saw the way one corner of his mouth lifted in a teasing grin.
“I suspect Saladin has plans for your husband should they meet on the battlefield. Damnation, how I hate calling that man your husband!” Anger clenched his lightly bearded jaw momentarily, then he reached across the table for her hand wearing a crooked smile. “But I predict that in a year’s time you will no longer be married to him. By then you will be calling me husband, sweet Gabi.”
“How I want that!” Staring into his penetrating dark eyes, she believed it could really come to pass.
“Then you shall have what you want. You certainly deserve to have it, after all you’ve endured.”
“Lucien, I love you so much,” she whispered, fighting back the desperation and the tears that threatened.
Sensing the battle she waged, Lucien rose up abruptly from the table. “Then come and help me bathe this road dust from my body so that I may take you in my arms and love you the way I have been dreaming of all day.” As he helped her to her feet, he traced the satin lapel of her robe, his fingertip curling inside to caress her warm skin. “You appear to have bathed already. Would you like to do so again perchance?”
“Maybe,” she teased as she caught his hand and laced her fingers through his. “I actually have your bath all planned out.”
“Sounds intriguing!” His husky laugh sent shivers down her spine.
“Come then, sir, and discover what wicked delights I have in store for you.”
The bathing chamber that connected her room with his had a stone latticed window high above it that let in light and air. The water in the small circular pool was hot, and steam wafted off of it to rise and drift through the lacy grillwork. Gabrielle had poured almond oil in the water, plus a bit of lemon oil. The fragrant scent filled the room, teasing the senses.
“Something tells me these rooms mimic the chambers of a harem,” Lucien speculated as he sat down on a marble bench to take off his boots.
“Not necessarily. I was in one of those rooms at the citadel in Damascus. It was much more decadent. Have you ever been in one, sir?”
“Aw, a question filled with danger, mi’lady,” he evaded. “What stalwart Templar would ever be caught in a harem chamber?”
“One who worked undercover?”
“God surely would have struck me down if I was ever caught in such a den of iniquity.”
Gabrielle rolled her eyes and let the subject drop. She knew he had been with other women. He was too skilled at making love to have been a monk who had never strayed from his vows of chastity. And it couldn’t have come from his youth. He’d told her he had been very young when he had been adopted by the Order and brought to live in one of their preceptories in Iberia. Even then, they would have allowed him little freedom. But then maybe there hadn’t been many women, just one or two who had tutored him well.
But it didn’t really matter whether he’d been in a harem or not, or how many women he’d been with. He was hers now, and she knew he loved her devotedly.
“Let me help you with your clothing,” she said as she knelt in front of him and tugged off his dusty boots.
When she rose to her feet again, she grasped the ends of his tunic on the way up and pulled the cotton over his head. She repeated the action with his gauze undershirt, then proceeded to unknot the drawstring on his loose trousers. Her nimble fingers worked quickly and efficiently, and then she began on his linen drawers.
“You are getting very proficient at undressing me,” he murmured into her unbound hair as he nuzzled it aside to trace the shape of her earlobe with the tip of his tongue.
Beneath her fingers, she felt the thrust of his erection. Her breathing quickened, as did her heartbeat. When he was finally free of his braies, he stepped out of them gloriously naked. Gabrielle could not halt the small involuntary sound that escaped as she stared at him in all of his unclothed masculine beauty. He was simply magnificent!
“Your turn,” he rasped as he reached for the tie on her belted robe. It took only a moment to disrobe her. After hanging her garment on a peg, he turned back around. “Too beautiful for words,” he told her, his heated gaze sweeping her naked form from head to toe.
They stepped into the pool together, each sighing appreciatively as they sank into the hot water.
“I took only a sponge bath the first time. This is indeed heavenly,” Gabrielle purred as Lucien slid his arm around her and pulled her to sit beside him on the underwater ledge.
After a few minutes of simply luxuriating in the heat, they turned to one another and began soaping each other. The scent of almonds, with a trace of lemon, wafted in the steam as Gabrielle washed and gently massaged Lucien’s scalp and hair. With him facing away from her, she pressed her soapy breasts against his wide muscular back, rubbing little circles that aroused her as much as it did him while she rinsed the long black strands free of suds.
By the time she finally finished, he was growling deep in his throat, sounding like a big well-pleasured cat. He swiveled around and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her as he ran his soapy sea sponge intimately over her upper body, caressing every curve and hollow and peak. Gabrielle lifted her sponge to his shoulders and neck while her fingertips stroked the line of his bearded jaw. It was a sensuous experience, lathering one another, arousing each another slowly and tantalizingly, lingering in all the right places.
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Gabrielle laughed when Lucien grasped her foot from under the soapy water and proceeded to wash each toe and each space in between. When the sponge glided over her insole, it tickled her so much she shrieked and begged for mercy. Lucien simply searched for her other foot and proceeded to do the same thing to it.
Delighted with her pleas for mercy, he went in search of other places where she was ticklish. Soon water and suds were flowing over the sides of the pool, and Gabrielle’s long hair was as wet as Lucien’s. When he finally took mercy on her, she was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down her cheeks. In response, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she was breathless with passion instead of laughter.
Pushing her fingers into his long hair, she arched against his lower body and hooked one slick leg over his hip. “Are we clean yet?”
Lucien could only nod. She was so beautiful, she left him speechless! With her hair slicked back from her exquisitely sculpted face, he could see every nuance of expression. Her deep blue eyes were alive with passion and love as she held his gaze.
“I have something else planned for you, sir,” she told him as she slid off his slippery body and stepped out of the bubbling water like a nymph coming out of the deep. “Let me dry you.” Her hand reached down to his, her fingers weaving through his as he stepped from the bathwater.
He followed without the slightest desire to resist, then closed his eyes as she moved all around him, toweling him dry with one of the thick cotton sheets left beside the pool. Wordlessly, he let her linger over every bulge and dip, eyeing her with a bit of disappointment when she wrapped another towel around herself, then turned him toward a corner of the bathroom.
He had a strong urge to strip her towel from her, scoop her up in his arms, and carry her into the bedroom, but he could see she had planned all of this for him and he didn’t want to disappoint her. Steeling himself against the desire throbbing through his veins, he let her guide him to a long padded marble bench.