by S A Monk
“Why did he keep you captive so long, Lucien?”
He smiled at her and hooked an arm around her shoulders. “It is a long story, my love. Are you done here for the day?”
Gabrielle looked over her shoulder and her eyes swept their audience with a smile. “I think my friends will excuse me early.”
Those patients closest to her in the room readily agreed and urged her to leave with the man they knew she had been anxiously waiting for these past weeks.
“I was surprised to not find you at the orphanage,” Lucien commented as he walked her out of the hospital, into the courtyard.
“I try to divide my time between the two. There are so many here, as you can see. Many refugees have flocked into Jerusalem. After I heard what happened at Hattin, I did not leave the palace for days, waiting for word, heartsick that I may have lost you. When Brother Conrad finally came to the palace to tell me what had happened to you, I began to hope again, though I was still deeply worried. I have been so afraid for you, Lucien.”
Taking her hand, he marveled at how small and delicate it looked resting in his. He could tell she had been troubled for a long time. She had lost some weight, and there were dark circles under her eyes. “I wish I could have returned to you sooner, but we will never be apart again, Gabi.”
“You are not going to join Count Raymond and the others in Tyre? It seems every available fighting man has headed there.”
“Nay. I am remaining here. And I am done fighting, except in defense of you and, it appears, this city one last time.” Lucien looked down at her solemnly. “Saladin will be arriving at our gates within a few weeks. This is the prize, afterall.”
“Apparently only he considers it so,” Gabrielle said bitterly. Outside the gates to the Hospitaller complex, she stopped and turned solemnly to look at Lucien. “Will we survive his assault?”
“We will,” he answered her assuredly.
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At the palace, Lucien met with the queen and Lord Balian d’Ibelin. Sibylla was elated to see him, as was his friend from Nablus, but she was bewildered and furious over the apparent abandonment of Jerusalem by the Grand Masters and barons.
Lucien explained that Tyre was considered easier to defend because it sat at the end of a long sandy isthmus and could be easily resupplied from the sea. “But, despite that advantage, I do not understand the desertion of Jerusalem, either, though the region between here and Tyre is crawling with Saladin’s forces.”
“Still,” Sibylla argued, “What good does it do the kingdom to keep Tyre and loose Jerusalem? Was this city not the original goal of our forefathers? Is it not the symbol of what all this fighting has been about?”
Lord Balian intervened. “I have seen how difficult it would be for our forces to cross the territory from Tyre to here. And we truly have lost most of our army.”
The queen, regally attired for their meeting in a Byzantium silk brocade gown, was not appeased. “Yet it remains that we have been left to fend for ourselves. It is reprehensible, although I would not let that scum, Gérard de Ridefort, take charge again if he walked through these gates tomorrow. Since my husband’s capture, he has given me no thought whatsoever!”
Lucien did not tell her that most of the key barons and the Grand Master were even now plotting to replace King Guy and Queen Sibylla with the queen’s younger sister, Isabella, and the husband they were planning to arrange for her. Yet again the lords of Outremer were divided and planning another coup. It seemed to Lucien that nothing would ever change in this godforsaken kingdom.
“They have moved King Guy to the garrison at Nablus, your majesty,” Lucien did inform her.
Sibylla sighed with relief. “That is at least much closer. Will the sultan release him soon? I have paid his ransom.”
Lucien found it painful to dash her hopes. “Saladin will keep him until he conquers all. I fear he still intends to use him as a bargaining chip.”
The queen courageously suppressed the tears that rose to her eyes. “I have feared as much as well, my friend. No doubt he will ask him to beseech us to surrender as he was forced to ask Ascalon to do so. I will not do it, though. God help my poor husband!”
“And us, as well,” Lord Balian echoed.
There was little left to say after that sorrowful conclusion. Wishing to comfort the queen, Gabrielle walked with her to her private quarters, leaving Lucien to talk further with the baron of Nablus.
She was standing before an open window in her bedroom, on the top floor of the palace, when Lucien rejoined her an hour later. The setting sun silhouetted her slender form in a halo of red gold light. Lucien stood in the doorway and silently stared at her for a few stolen moments.
She looked like an angel, and he was reminded how often she liked to refer to him as her guardian angel. It always brought a smile of self mockery to his face, for he was no guardian angel, though he could understand why she thought of him like that. He had kept her safe from her abusive husband and father. He wondered what she thought of their fates. While she might abhor the violent deaths they had met, she would be relieved that she had nothing further to suffer from them.
She was free to marry him now, and how he wanted that! It didn’t matter if he had not been officially released from his vows. He may never be. That would not stop him from making her his wife. If he had to travel to the far-off city of Irbil, in the kingdom of Mesopotamia, to do so, he would.
She had unbound her hair and changed from her day gown into a luxuriant, flowing silk robe of red and gold. Her long gold-flecked hair picked up the sun’s fading light and glimmered radiantly with it.
He stepped up behind her and wrapped her in the circle of his arms, pressing his cheek to the long lustrous strands of her sable brown hair. “What were you so deep in thought about, my heart?” he murmured as he nuzzled her silky curls.
She sighed and snuggled into his embrace, leaning contentedly against the muscled wall of his chest. “I was imagining our life together,” she answered him, covering his hands, which were clasped over her stomach. “Do you think we will be blessed by a miracle and have children?”
His head angled around hers, and he kissed her cheek. “If we are not, we will adopt some. You know how great the need is.”
“I was hoping you would want that. Some men cannot tolerate children that are not of their making.”
“Gabrielle.” Lucien turned her to face him, thinking the time was right to tell her about her real father. “I have learned the secret of your mother’s troubled life.” He took her hand and guided her to the enormous silk draped bed in the room. “Sit down with me,” he urged, tugging her onto the goose feathered mattress to sit beside him.
Gabrielle stared at his solemn face, perplexed.
“While I was with the Blue Wolf, he revealed to me that years ago, in Antioch, he captured your mother as she journeyed outside the city to visit a friend. His intent was to hold her for ransom. Even then your father and Reynald were despised by the Arabs.
“While she was his captive, Gökböri fell in love with Simone. They had planned to reunite. He gave her this necklace,” he said, unclasping it from around his neck and returning it to her. “He also gave her some jewels so that she could come to him after he released her. He didn’t know she was with child by the time she returned to Antioch. She was never able to go back to Gökböri. Armand prevented it. After he took her away to Jerusalem, then Kerak, she bore the child, a girl. You, Gabi.” Lucien held her hands and her unblinking gaze. “Your true father is the Blue Wolf, General Muzaffar al Din Gökböri. That pendant he gave your mother is a replica of the symbol he carries on his shield. It is what has protected you on the roads of Palestine these many years. It is what gained our release from the prison at Damascus. It is what protected me at Hattin. Though I knelt before the executioner’s blade like all of my brethren, I was spared because of you, Gabi.”
Gabrielle was barely aware of the tears slipping hotly down her cheeks and of the way Lucien h
eld her hands so tightly, so securely. “I think I always knew, or maybe hoped, that Armand was not my true father. It explains why he could never love me or my mother.”
“It could also explain why he might have killed her.”
“Yes, it could.” Gabrielle met Lucien’s gentle dark brown eyes over his battle scarred knuckles as he raised her hands and kissed her curled fingers. “When did Gökböri find out that I was his daughter?”
“Only years later he told me.”
“Maybe my mother had some contact with him before her death.”
“It could be a motive for her murder, if Armand did indeed kill her.”
“As horrible as it sounds, I would rather believe that than believe she left me alone with him deliberately. He was nearly as brutal as Reynald.”
“It was the Blue Wolf who killed your father at Hattin,” Lucien informed her.
“Their death was no great loss to anyone but Silvia and the men who got rich alongside them,” she told him bitterly. “I certainly did not grieve for either one.”
“The general wants us to come to Irbil when this is over. He says we can come for a visit. Come to marry. Or stay to live. There is a large Christian community there, and I do not believe the Temple can extend their reach there. We will be safe to live out our lives in peace. With your father as governor, I am sure I will be able to find work to support us. I regret that I have nothing to offer you in my homeland of Iberia.”
“This is your homeland, also, as it is mine,” she pointed out optimistically.
“What think you of this plan for our future?”
Gabrielle leaned across the small distance and kissed him on the cheek. “I think I like it. We are both half Arab, afterall, and I would very much like to get to know my real father. He seemed like a good man.”
“I believe he is. I got to know him rather well these past three months. I came to respect him not only as an honorable warrior, but as a fair and just administrator with admirable leadership qualities and deep humanity.”
Gabrielle fell back onto the bed and tugged Lucien after her. “And you have had many opportunities to see the good and the bad in leadership these many years, sir.”
He toyed with the knotted belt at her waist and lifted himself up on one elbow. “I have had the misfortune to see more bad, than good, lately.”
Gabrielle pulled his tunic free of his loose trousers, then lifted it over his head to bare his magnificent chest. “Was Hattin terrible?”
“It was horrific, and totally unnecessary. There could have been another way.” When she freed the knot at his waist, loosening his pants, he leaned in to kiss the skin exposed by her gaping robe. “But I do not want to think now on all that loss. I have waited too long to bury all those terrible memories in your healing sweetness. Come, let me make love to you, sweet Gabi.”
Kissing her hungrily, he freed them of their remaining garments, then eased her deeper into the luxuriant goose feathers until he hovered over her, naked and magnificently aroused.
Gabrielle reached over and untied the cord holding the silk draperies around the bed. With another twist of her body, she unknotted the opposite side, enclosing them in a cocoon of amber light that washed over their naked skin in deep golden hues. Though her skin was lighter than his, they were a perfect blend together. And now she was alike him in another way, as well. She was half Arab. She wondered giddily if that would make their children full Arab, then decided it didn’t matter. For one way or another, they would have a family together, either through natural birth or adoptive means. What a special man he was that he was willing to give her that!
Seeing the light in her eyes and the sublime smile on her temptingly soft lips, Lucien lowered himself over her, bending his head to suckle at her breast as he thrust himself into her in one long slow gliding stroke. Her gasp of pleasure matched his groan of satisfaction. It was like coming home, he thought as he began to move inside her.
Their passion could not be drawn out as he wished. Not this time. It had been too long, and he wanted her too badly. As they too quickly reached the peak of ecstasy together, splintering apart in one another’s arms, he reminded himself that he now had years more to enjoy with her. Despite the upcoming battle, he felt certain they would both survive it. They had been through too much together. God had answered his prayers and returned him to her. He surely meant them to make a long and happy life together.
CHAPTER 26
Saladin and his massive army reached Jerusalem on the twentieth of September 1187. His arrival was no surprise to the Christians inside the walls of the ancient city. For weeks, Balian d’Ibelin and Lucien de Aubric had supervised the stockpiling of arms, food, and water. Officially, the Patriarch of Jerusalem was in charge of the city, along with the queen, but neither had any military experience. Both Sibylla and Heraclius gladly turned over the defense of the city to the ex baron of Nablus and the disavowed Templar monk. There were no other men of rank in the city.
The army the two men managed to put together was an assortment of farmers, shopkeepers, refugees, and boys. Trained soldiers were nearly nonexistent. The queen and the Patriarch had ordered all churches stripped of their treasures to pay any man willing to fight. Most were eager to defend themselves, even without the added incentive of payment. Lord Balian added one more incentive, though, that stunned many, including a reluctant Heraclius. He knighted any man who swore to stay and defend the city. It was a wildly popular move that ended up fortifying the morale of the fledgling army.
On the day Saladin arrived, Balian and Lucien were called from their organizational duties to the Tower of David. Queen Sibylla and a few noblewomen were waiting for them on the ramparts of the crenellated wallwalk. Bowmen flanked them, stretched out on either side. Gabrielle stood near the queen and stared gravely at Lucien as he strode toward her.
They had not seen much of one another the past week, except late at night when Lucien would return to their room at the palace, exhausted after a long day of rigorous preparation and training. He had overseen the building of the siege engines and been in charge of training most of the newly recruited defenders.
Gabrielle was almost glad that the battle was beginning. Waiting had been incredibly stressful. It was time to face their fate, though she wished there was another way, for it was certain many men would die in the days and possibly weeks to come. Jerusalem would not be taken easily. The walls were formidable, and the Christians had always been strongest when they stayed behind their fortresses and fought.
As Lucien came up beside her and took her hand, she said yet another prayer begging God to safeguard his life. Lucien had told her of the Blue Wolf’s promise that he would live through the battle for Jerusalem. Gabrielle had made him wear her mother’s pendant, even though he urged her to wear it. But she did not need the Blue Wolf’s protection. She would be safe enough in the palace or at the orphanage or hospital. In the hand-to-hand combat that would eventually come, Lucien would need the protective amulet. Unfortunately, it would not keep him safe from an arrow or a missile flying over the walls. Only God could protect him from the deadly air attacks.
Lucien felt Gabrielle’s fears. Her hand was ice cold, despite the hot day, and she was trembling. He hooked an arm around her slender shoulders and gave her a reassuring hug. “It will be all right, Gabi,” he murmured into her ear. “God is with us.”
Gabrielle wasn’t sure if he was referring to the two of them or to all of the citizens inside the city. “There are so many of them,” she said as she looked out over the ramparts.
Lucien followed her line of vision. Thousands of armed Saracens arrayed themselves around the great walled city in a show meant to intimidate and strike fear into every soul watching from inside Saladin’s army was still great in numbers and strength, having lost little of either since they had defeated the Christian soldiers at Hattin and elsewhere. The sultan was at the pinnacle of his power and might, and he had fought his battles shrewdly, in direct contrast to his d
ivided, misguided enemy.
It could have been so different had the Franks possessed better leadership. Lucien mentally shook his head in regret. “We have been outnumbered from the beginning, but we are now fighting as we should have been all along, from behind the safety of our well-fortified walls. And I have seen the sultan be merciful. If we are defeated, I believe he will not slaughter us the way we slaughtered the inhabitants within these walls when we first conquered the city.”
But it was a great sorrow to him that Jerusalem would in all likelihood be lost to the Christians. For well over a decade he had fought to keep it free from Muslim rule. Eighty years had passed since it had passed into Christian hands, and Lucien grimly wondered if it would ever belong to his kind again.
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At dawn the following day, the Saracen army attacked the city between David’s Tower and Saint Stephen’s Gate. The rising sun greeted the men manning the walls with a shower of Muslim arrows. Missiles struck the stout stone walls moments later. The Saracens bombard the gates of the city as well. The Christian defenders returned with counter-barrages.
Lucien led a group of newly anointed knights on horseback through one of the lesser gates on a swift and furious sortie that seriously damaged several of Saladin’s siege engines. Both sides kept up the fanatical assault for nearly a sennight; Saladin battering away at the walls, while the Christians repelled them from the parapets and mounted flash raids. The countermeasures took their toll on the Saracens. Lucien discovered through his men outside the walls that Saladin lost several prominent senior officers.
By the twenty-fifth of September, Saladin called off the attack. The Christians watched from the ramparts as the siege engines were dismantled. A rousing cheer went up along the walls. To nearly everyone, it seemed the assault was over. Lucien and Balian were not among those cheering. Lucien’s spies had discovered that Saladin was tunneling beneath the weaker towers. If successful, their mining would eventually bring down one or more towers, and with that the connecting walls.