Queen's Guard 01 The Queen's Guard: Violet

by Traci E Hall

  “Then let us show off a bit, ladies.” Mamie grinned, her green eyes sparkling as she puffed out her ample, leather-plated chest, making Bella feel noticeably less endowed. John must have returned the confiscated items.

  “I will be fierce,” Fay promised, adding height and strength seemingly by sheer force of will.

  Catherine released a quick breath, then agreed with a firm nod.

  Bella’s pride swelled, her throat tightening with emotion as she looked at each of her friends. Sisters. They wore matching red and ivory short tunics and leggings. Their ivory leather shoes laced up to the knee, and they wore their hair swept back and tied at the nape. Oui, Bella thought, we will do the queen justice. “Remember our formation,” she whispered. “And no more talking, unless it is on behalf of the queen.”

  In unison they reached the bottom marble step, Mamie and Catherine on the queen’s left and Fay and Bella on the right.

  The doorkeeper announced that their horses were ready and waiting outside the courtyard. “Would you like an escort?” His voice wavered. He was obviously flustered by the female guards’ masculine attire in the middle of the palace, where women were to be seemly and covered appropriately.

  “We are the Queen’s Guard.” Bella nodded toward the doors and waited until he finally gestured for the slaves to open them.

  They strode through, heads held high, though Bella wondered if she would ever get used to people’s curious stares.

  Queen Eleanor was renowned for her intelligence and love of games, and she had a small amount of independent power that allowed her to push the boundaries of acceptability. Thankfully, King Louis usually indulged her desires, overriding even his own counsel, Odo and Thierry. The queen had certain feminine persuasions his men lacked, and she was not afraid to use them to get what she wanted, such as her own guard.

  Bella, on the right, walked in time with Fay on the left, keeping the queen in the center. Catherine walked behind Bella and Mamie behind Fay.

  Their horses waited, and just as they’d practiced, Mamie assisted the queen while Bella and the others stayed in perfect form, backs straight, staring ahead, shoulders back. Once the queen was mounted, Bella and Fay and, lastly, Mamie and Catherine got on their horses.

  It was something of a spectacle, but they did it with flare. The queen loved the attention.

  Bella noticed they’d drawn a bit of a crowd, her eyes immediately finding Raoul’s onyx hair. He stood a head above everyone else, but she would have found him anywhere.

  His eyes met hers, and his jaw clenched in what looked like disapproval.

  She dared not move a muscle in recognition, not so much as twitch her upper lip in a hint of a smile. Professional soldiers such as Emperor Manuel’s would not feel a flush of attraction in their bellies. She was certain of it. Yet Raoul brought out new feelings she wished to explore. If only he weren’t impervious to her charms.

  “Let us ride,” she said, then waited three counts before urging her mount forward at the same instant Fay did.

  Their formation was as wide as a wagon and did not unduly disturb anyone on the road. They kept the queen untouchable in the center.

  Bella discreetly adjusted the quiver strap across her shoulder as they rode down the main street.

  Children and shopkeepers came out to wave, as if they were part of a parade. It helped that the queen occasionally tossed coins or sweets, thus gaining cheers and crowd approval.

  There was no chance of getting lost, as the road led directly to the imperial palace and the Hippodrome. Everyone else seemed to be headed there as well.

  It was like a market day in France, except for the smell of the ocean and the bright, happy colors worn by freed slaves and noble folk alike. And the spices and the sand …

  They reached the entrance to the Hippodrome, where Raoul waited with a handful of the emperor’s soldiers. It annoyed Bella that he’d beaten them to the gate, but she wouldn’t let on. Eleanor needed approval from the Greeks to ensure support for her uncle, which meant Bella had to be on her best behavior and not tweak the nose of one Raoul Laskaris.

  Bella knew Queen Eleanor’s plan might work in France and Aquitaine, but Constantinople—all of the Holy Roman Empire—seemed different, more steeped in traditions than even the church.

  “My lady,” Raoul said.

  She dipped her head in acknowledgment.

  His brow rose.

  She remained mute.

  His eyes turned into thunderous orbs of irritation. “This way. You will have to dismount and leave your horses here with the slaves.”

  The boys in purple loincloths moved forward, but Bella held up a hand to warn them off. This was their pièce de résistance. “One moment.” One, two, and three.

  In synchrony, she and Fay dismounted with a bow before twirling to face the queen. Eleanor’s expression gave nothing away, but Bella knew she was pleased just the same.

  Mamie and Catherine also dismounted. Then Mamie came to assist the queen down from her horse by bending over and letting Eleanor use her back as a step stool.

  The gathered crowd applauded. The guards then formed their protective square around the queen, and Bella turned to Raoul, whose jaw was clenched.

  “What theatrics,” he whispered. “And for what purpose? Added notoriety?”

  Bella stared straight ahead, saying nothing at all, though she would tell him plenty later, when she was out of her armor.

  “Oh,” he said, scratching his chin and taking them all in. “You aren’t allowed to speak.” He grinned wickedly.

  Bella bit the inside of her cheek as Queen Eleanor approached.

  “Tsk. Raoul, are you talking to my guard? She won’t answer you, no matter how much you poke at her.”

  Bella could tell this statement was like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull. Raoul would want to win, yet she could not let him or else her queen would lose honor. He wouldn’t strike right away. Non, he was as wily as any royal she’d ever met. Her blood quickened at the challenge.

  “My apologies, Queen Eleanor.” Raoul bowed, answering the queen personally only because she had spoken to him first. “Follow me.”

  Bella inwardly smiled at his abrupt command to the queen. Raoul was many things but no courtier. He’d wilt in the queen’s walled gardens, where they talked of love, poetry, chivalry, and honor for entire afternoons.

  The guards remained in disciplined formation, falling into single file. Bella led the way, and Catherine took the rear position as they walked up the thin stairway to the special seats made for royalty in the Hippodrome.

  Bella stood still, staring at the dot of nothingness just over the queen’s shoulder to avoid making eye contact with any of the royals. She noted, however, that the empress’s cousins, Nikola, Marie, and Leah, were all seated on cushioned small couches, with a full view of the filled stadium.

  ”This is divine,” Eleanor said, waving a hand out over the vast crowd. Made of stone, the seats ascended like the ancient amphitheaters of Rome.

  “In the old days, emperors would watch lions tear apart the guilty. Festivities for the commoners and justice for the system. Now”—Emperor Manuel shrugged—”we have modern ways of dealing with our criminals. We hang them outside the great wall.”

  Queen Eleanor said all the appropriate things, exuding enthusiasm, which Bella doubted was feigned considering the queen’s love for the hunt. Competition was her life-blood, and winning any way she could was the reward.

  “My thanks for holding a chariot race,” Eleanor said, leaning forward so she could look Manuel in the eye.

  “I have heard you like to wager?” His fingers tapped the gilt armrest of his chair.

  Eleanor smiled charmingly. “I wish I could say it was a terrible rumor.” She laughed, dropping her voice to a seductive whisper. “But it is true. The occasional bet.”

  Empress Irene, who was passably pretty but not nearly as beautiful as Eleanor, rose and put her hand on the emperor’s arm, claiming him,
Bella thought. “Did I hear you correct, Eleanor?” The empress narrowed her eyes. “What shall we wager?”

  “That is a dilemma.” The queen sat back, and Bella thought she saw the empress sigh with relief. “Coin is so passé.” She tossed her hair, inviting them to laugh with her. Even the Greek cousins were caught in the queen’s glamorous net.

  “Your horse?” Maria suggested.

  “Never that,” Eleanor said. “An emerald ring?”

  Empress Irene’s eyes flashed. “Emeralds are not my favorite.”

  “What do you think, Lady Isabella?” Nikola’s question was innocent enough, but before Bella could politely explain she couldn’t speak while on duty, Eleanor interceded.

  Eleanor’s tone was strict, quite different from her flir-tatiousness a heartbeat before. “My guards are not allowed to speak unless I give them permission. Their duty is to see to my safety.”

  Emperor Manuel chuckled. “They are pretty ornaments in a lovely crown.”

  “Oh no,” Eleanor chided. “I would trust them each with my life.”

  Bella’s skin pebbled as she felt the emperor and empress pierce her with searching gazes.

  “Your Highness!” Empress Irene covered her mouth with heavily jeweled fingers. She looked at King Louis, who lounged awkwardly on a couch. “I did not understand when we talked of a private guard, Eleanor, that your women would be so scantily clad. King Louis, is this acceptable in your country? Women dressing as men, with actual weaponry?”

  “The queen may choose her private guard,” Louis said. Perhaps it was the weight of disapproval from the Romanesque royals, but he added in a rare aside, “And besides, my male soldiers are always nearby should trouble arise.”

  Bella noticed the barely imperceptible twitch of the queen’s pinky as her husband belittled her female guard.

  Emperor Manuel sent a commiserating glance toward Louis, who avoided looking at a too calm Eleanor.

  “It is because of love that we tolerate more than we should. But when faced with such beauty,” Manuel said smoothly as he gestured toward Eleanor, “what can a man do?”

  “Beauty is not everything,” Empress Irene said, lifting her chin.

  “I could not agree more,” Eleanor said. “Beauty must have substance. And my guard is flawless in both looks and skill.”

  Manuel’s snort of disbelief echoed around the secluded royal box.

  Bella’s cheeks heated, and her stomach knotted, but she didn’t move.

  “I have the perfect thing to wager,” the queen announced, tapping her plump lower lip as if the idea had just come to her. “If I win, I get a dinner in my honor. If I lose, and I rarely do, then I will give you a private performance of my guard’s skills.”

  Bella hid her triumphant smile, knowing the cocky queen would deliberately lose the wager but gain another private audience, leading to possible time alone for her and the emperor and for her ultimate goal.

  Raoul found his gaze constantly veering toward Manuel’s private box, where the queen sat with her red-garbed guard. The seats were shaded with purple silk and protected by royal soldiers and a few of Louis’s men. Yes, there was Thierry, the eunuch. Odo was not in the box, though he was more than likely in the assigned seats below.

  The Crusaders would get a choice view of the chariot race and be able to buy tickets in the color of the chariot they thought would win. The collected coin would then be divided among the winners in first, second, and third place.

  Raoul cursed the Crusaders, counting down the days until they took their army to Edessa. He should have been guarding the walls, chasing King Roger, or making traps for the Turkish rebels instead of setting up play dates for the emperor’s royal guests.

  If it were up to me, he thought for the hundredth time, I’d boot them out to the mercy of the Turks, God help them all, while Constantinople stays strong.

  Since it was not up to him, he would swallow his ire and entertain the enemy. The fact that one of the enemy had violet eyes and sweet breath was something of a salve. He anticipated breaching her walls and claiming victory, though he knew it might not be the wisest course of action.

  Beauty was fleeting. French, Greek, Roman—he’d even spied a stunning Hungarian once at the slave market. Beauty was pleasing to the eye, but it faded. He might satisfy his lust with the lovely lady guard but at what cost? He had a feeling Isabella would be different. And that made her dangerous. He barely survived day to day as it was.

  Raoul’s gaze landed on Emperor Manuel. He’d sworn fealty and meant it, but Christ’s golden cup, the man made it difficult. A deal with the Turks was worse than one with the devil. The devil would be more trustworthy.

  Raoul walked to the wooden crates holding Serena and Star. He whistled to announce his presence, and both leopards began their rough, low purr.

  Arturo handed Raoul a bag of freshly diced goat meat. The paper inside the bag kept the meat from dripping blood.

  Raoul hadn’t wanted to give the Crusaders any extra entertainment, but Manuel insisted. It seemed the queen had shown an interest in his leopards.

  “Here are the leashes, sir.”

  Raoul eyed the thin youth holding out the strips of leather. “How old are you, Arturo?”

  The boy blinked dark black eyes. “Twelve.”

  “How long have you been assisting in the stables?”

  “Four years.” The boy swallowed. “Do you like the leopards?”

  The boy’s face flushed. “Yes. They let me brush them, and sometimes I …”

  “Yes?”

  “I fall asleep with them, when it’s cold at night.” His thin arms stiffened, as if he feared he’d said too much.

  “Good,” Raoul said. “I want you to sleep in their cages every night or at least outside them. Have you noticed anyone, besides Odo, poking around the enclosure?”

  “No, sir.”

  Perhaps Odo was innocent and just nosy.

  Raoul grimaced, and the boy stepped back.

  Raoul held up a hand. “I will pay you extra per week if you do what I ask. Are you saving your money to buy your freedom?”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “No, sir. There is none to save.” He looked at the ground and then dared, “I have nowhere to go, anyway, since my town was burned.”

  Raoul grunted. He never should have asked. The memory of his own village in ash beckoned, but he ignored it. “Do as I say, and I will see you paid properly as my apprentice.”

  Arturo’s chin trembled, but he gave a firm bob of his head. “Yes, sir.”

  “Open the cages.” Raoul had wanted only to make sure his leopards—Manuel’s leopards—were safe. He hadn’t wanted to hire someone to look after. Or care about.

  He concentrated on the leopards as Star and Serena padded from the cages, looking cautiously around beneath the shaded canopy outside the Hippodrome. Raoul was outside in a private area so the cats would stay calm and hidden from people’s view until it was time to perform.

  The leopards were a Constantinople favorite, and Raoul had raised these from cubs since their parents had been stolen. They’d needed a champion, and he’d needed a place to put his energy. One not tainted with the vengeance that pervaded every other corner of his life.

  Another slave opened the side door and gestured for Raoul to bring the leopards out.

  He heard Manuel announce, “And now, a feat unheard of: not one dangerous predator but two! Raoul Laskaris wrestles with two leopards, each the weight of a grown man, with teeth as pointed as daggers and the deadly desire for flesh. One wrong move could spark their killer instincts, changing them from the beautiful spotted cats before you into deadly predators.”

  Raoul shook his head, acknowledging that Manuel knew best how to get the people excited. Popular public opinion mattered, especially during uncertain times. The citizens’ city was filled with French Crusaders, making it more important to remind the people of their loyalty to Constantinople.

  Star’s ears perked. Serena jerked at her leas
h. The cats loved to wrestle and knew not to bite hard enough to break skin. It was a game—with him. And if Raoul trained Arturo properly, then with the slave as well. Anybody else might die.

  “All right, cats,” Raoul said, scratching behind their ears. They’d been performing together for three years and were comfortable in their roles. “Let’s give them a show to remember.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The emperor finished announcing something that made the crowd go wild, clapping and shouting. It sounded like they were calling out “Serena” and “Star,” and Bella could have sworn she’d heard Raoul’s name.

  At the queen’s instruction, the guards were not to speak. Bella and Fay flanked her on either side, with Catherine and Mamie standing behind as Eleanor sat overlooking the Hippodrome below. A bead of perspiration dripped down Bella’s back as she stood at attention. The balcony was shaded, but the heat was intense. October in France would be cooler.

  “It is unseasonably hot this year,” Empress Irene said apologetically as a slave fanned her face.

  Queen Eleanor gave her a commiserating smile, although she looked as fresh as a summer flower. “You live in a paradise. What is happening? Are the races about to begin?”

  ”We like to give the citizens a treat. Star and Serena are the leopards trained since birth by Raoul. They sit at the emperor’s side during certain occasions.”

  “They are so exotic,” Eleanor said.

  Bella wondered if she heard a tinge of jealousy. Would the queen think a leopard something to add to her own menagerie? Bella shivered, imagining having to leash train a leopard. Dangerous animals and as trustworthy as a cobra. Or a fox! One did not mistake a fox for a pet dog unless she didn’t mind missing some fingers.

  Eleanor continued, “And Raoul walks them around the stage? How brave!”

  “Oh, no,” Irene said with a condescending giggle, “he does much more than that.”

  “Just watch,” Manuel instructed, tugging at his dark beard. “Raoul puts his life in jeopardy.”