Rose

by Traci E Hall

  “Something has changed,” Commander Bartholomew said. “I do not know what, only that I must do whatever is in my power to keep the Crusade on course.”

  Dominus kept quiet. As Bishop Clairvaux might say, it was acceptable to have a difference of opinion. It was not all right to form a rebellion. Who all were part of the commander’s council?

  Mamie watched the men leave, then turned toward Eleanor. “God’s breath! What was that about?”

  “Is the king really going to Jerusalem,” Fay said, pacing the grassy area, “without saving Edessa?”

  “I do not know, exactly.” Eleanor fretted at her thumbnail. “Do I dare believe that my uncle plots with the Templars? But why wouldn’t they be in accord?” She shook her head.

  “I—”

  Eleanor held up a hand. “Fay, I want you to uncover every last morsel of gossip or scandal about Commander Bartholomew, and Mamie—you and Dominus have a friendship, of sorts; use it. Find out what is going on. I will confront my uncle as soon as we get back to the castle.”

  “Do you think that wise?” Fay asked.

  “Why not?”

  Mamie interjected, “If your uncle was willing to ask for the aid of Templar, he must feel that either his actions are under watch or yours are.”

  “Perhaps Constance cannot be trusted?” Eleanor mused aloud. “My political views differ from Louis’s. Perhaps my uncle and she have a similar situation.”

  Mamie walked the circumference of the grove, each step building power within her body and her mind. She passed the waterfall. Feeling the spray of fresh water on her skin reminded her of the boat voyage and how she and the queen had faced the danger together. Mamie, though a warrior, had fear buried deep within her heart. She felt the urge to let it go, to free what held her captive.

  She stopped, staring at the water and the laurel trees rooted by the bank. “What do you want, my queen?”

  Eleanor dropped her arms to her sides. “What?”

  “What do you want?” Mamie put a hand out, letting the water refresh her fevered skin. She felt stretched from the inside.

  “My goal was to reach Antioch. Now I am here, and there is more intrigue. Choices must be made, and not all of them will be popular. Louis said he would not make a decision until he spoke with the advisors here in Antioch, which means my uncle as well as the patriarch. But if I am being approached in secret . . .”

  Mamie closed her eyes and breathed in, all the way to her toes. She rooted herself to the earth, allowing her body and the world around her to become as one. It was not comfortable, but she felt compelled.

  “I want . . .” Eleanor paused, deep in thought. “If Louis forgoes Edessa, which I know in my heart is what he wants to do, to travel directly to Jerusalem and gain absolution over Vitry and peace for his brother’s soul, he will be satisfied with the journey even though it is not the original purpose of the Crusade.”

  “You have told me what Louis wants,” Mamie said. “What is your heart’s desire?” She waited, eyes closed. Fear of the unknown, of losing herself. She warred with something in the air as she listened to the queen and connected to the water. Daphne? Apollo?

  “To do the honorable thing. If we go to Edessa, he risks his life and the lives of his men, our men, for what purpose? He feels the reward does not equal the risk. That we can come back after Jerusalem and gain Edessa. Is he right? Putting my pride aside, is my husband right?”

  Mamie opened her eyes, seeing the grove through a haze of white. She felt fuller, wiser as she breathed. Eleanor, so beautiful, was haloed in silver and purple. When Mamie spoke, she sounded almost masculine, though she did not feel so. “It is time to choose your future, Eleanor. What you decide will bend your fate, for better or worse.”

  Eleanor and Fay both stared at Mamie, which Mamie saw, but somehow from above it all.

  She pointed, her finger dripping water. “Decide, Eleanor. Either Destiny will bring you contentment, but one will allow passion to match your own. A chance to raise kings.”

  Eleanor’s cheeks flushed, and her eyes gleamed. “Who are you?”

  Mamie struggled to answer, to give her name, but she couldn’t say a word. Instead, the tenuous feeling burst like a bubble within her, and the world returned to its duller colors.

  She fell to her knees, not in pain, but because what had held her up was gone, leaving her boneless and unable to stand. Water from the stream splashed her face, the waterfall behind her smacking the rocks in the pool below.

  “Mamie!”

  She heard Fay’s voice.

  “Mamie?”

  Eleanor’s too.

  She couldn’t form words. Her mind felt as broken as a dropped egg. Her secret fear rose, but she fought against the revelation. Better to focus on the queen.

  Fay’s hand gripped her shoulder. Eleanor turned her to her side.

  Blinking as the thoughts came at her, snowflakes in a blizzard, she felt as if she should catch them and hold them close, but they were leaving as quickly as they’d arrived. “I am one,” Mamie whispered in awe.

  Fay’s brows quirked. “With what?”

  “All. As are you. And you,” she told Eleanor. “Nobody is better than another, there is just”—she struggled to sit up, not caring that her gown was soaked through—“us.” Peasant, noble. It did not matter. Male or female, Muslim or Christian.

  “What of God?” Eleanor queried.

  “There is God but not a vengeful God or a hateful God. He is love. We are his creatures, and we are all loved.” Sarah and the baby. Me.

  Fay searched her face. “You have received very powerful messages.” Her gray eyes remained serious, very unlike Fay. “But what choice will the queen have to make? How can she make the right one, if we don’t know what they are?”

  “I do not know. Just that it was important to be true to oneself. It is a feeling. The easiest choice is not always the best.”

  Eleanor’s eyes were large, her face pale.

  The mist from the waterfall covered them all, drops forming on their hair and lashes.

  The queen said, “We need to return to the palace and find out what is happening with Raymond and Bartholomew. It seems as if there is a council of some sort and—”

  The women sounded afraid, and somehow Mamie understood that was not the intent of the messages. To empower, not frighten. She tried to stand and lost her footing on the slippery bank, her gown catching on an exposed root. She fell backward, grabbing Fay and Eleanor with her. They landed in the stream with a splash, beneath the spill from the waterfall.

  Laughing released fear, and the showering water washed it away for good. “We’ve been baptized,” Mamie said, teeth chattering.

  “A blessing.” Eleanor wore a contemplative expression as they waded toward the bank. “A chance to know ourselves better. Fay, how are you?”

  Fay, having pulled herself from the water, offered a hand to the queen. “Fine. As long as you are safe.”

  The queen said nothing, climbing to the grass and shaking water from her hands.

  Fay reached out her hand to Mamie. “Your freckles are blue.”

  “The water is as cold as it looks,” Mamie said, getting to her feet and hugging her arms around her middle. “Refreshing.”

  “Glacial,” Fay countered. She wrung the hem of her skirt, dripping water over the rocks and grass. “I prefer the bathhouse and all of that hot, hot steam.” She rubbed her arms. “Warmth to the bone.”

  Eleanor, teeth chattering, while still looking ethereal, twisted her long tail of hair and then knotted it atop her head. Her gown, weighted and damp, trailed the ground.

  Mamie pointed to a spot in the clearing where the sun beamed. “We could dry, as nature made us.” She bit her tongue as her teeth clacked together. “Or die of a chill. I would rather risk someone walking in on us than death.”

  Fay was already stripping off her gown, dragging the blanket from earlier into the rays of sun. Down to her chemise, she scooted to the edge. “Come
on. There is plenty of room.”

  Mamie and Eleanor followed, with Eleanor in the middle and Mamie on the opposite edge. Mamie kept her sword at her fingertips, in the instance someone entered the grove. Content to let her body dry, Mamie stood guard of her mind, too concerned she might lose control once more. “It is a mystical place,” Fay finally said.

  “Hmm. Are we going to talk about Mamie not being Mamie?” Eleanor asked.

  Fay sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. “Well?”

  “I do not have the words.” Mamie grounded herself in Eleanor and Fay’s stares. The sun on her bare arms. The scent of crushed grass. “It felt like someone else was inside me—not hurtful, just”—Mamie squirmed—“full.”

  “Do you remember what you said?” Eleanor asked, in gentle tones.

  “A little bit. It is fading already. The fullness used my body to speak with you. I could not tell if it was a male energy or a female one.” She shrugged, a rope of damp hair curling around her wrist. “Both, perhaps.”

  “What did it mean? Me, making a decision that would alter the course of history.” Eleanor leaned on her elbow, her face ghostly pale. “Any clue?”

  Frustrated, Mamie said, “If I had, I would tell you. It was an overall feeling of love, acceptance, and being true to one’s own heart. Not just now but in the future. Always.”

  “Ladies?”

  Mamie turned toward the entrance of the grove, springing to her feet to stand in front of the queen. Fay did the same. Their thin chemises had dried quickly in the sun, but their gowns, spread over the grass to dry, were out of reach.

  “Stay where you are,” Mamie ordered. “Who are you?”

  “Princess Constance has an escort waiting at the bottom of the hill, when you are ready to leave. There is no hurry,” the female voice said. “Do you require an attendant? I am Lady Hortencia. We met last evening at the banquet. I am here to offer my services.”

  “I remember you well,” Mamie said.

  “Welcome, Lady,” the queen called out. “If you are alone, enter.”

  A tall, slender blonde woman came into the grove, her veil fluttering with her long-legged strides. She saw them on the blanket, their gowns spread in the sun. She howled. “I knew there was a reason I brought gowns. They are not fashionable, but they are dry.”

  “How did you know?” Mamie asked, rising to her full height.

  “There is something about the water here that is inviting. I always end up in it.” Hortencia smiled at Mamie. “Invigorating, isn’t it?”

  “That is one way to describe it,” Fay said, taking the bag.

  “Have you experienced any odd happenings?” Eleanor stood behind Mamie, while Fay drew out a plain beige tunic with a simple braided belt.

  Lady Hortencia looked amused but stayed quiet.

  “Here, my queen.” Fay assisted Eleanor, then took one for herself. When they were done, they looked the same.

  “We could be acolytes at a Greek temple.” Mamie chuckled, pointing at their three matching tunics.

  “I do not mind at all,” Eleanor declared with typical good cheer. “We have been blessed by our time in the grove, and it seems fitting to be humbled this way. A reminder that we are all one, eh, Mamie?”

  Lady Hortencia folded her hands at her waist, her brows lifted in question.

  “We had an exciting afternoon,” Mamie said, not sure she wished to discuss her epiphanies with a stranger, no matter how nice of a lady.

  “Princess Constance was furious that the commander of the Templars left you here alone. You are a royal guest of Antioch and her husband’s dear niece. She made her opinion known.” Lady Hortencia winked. “She has quite a temper when riled, and she was quite provoked on your behalf.”

  Eleanor dipped her head. “It is I who will have to apologize for sending them away. I did not intend to cause a disruption in the palace.”

  “They should have waited for you on the road. It is a short journey, true, but it is a matter of respect. It is not the first time the commander and Princess Constance have had a disagreement over what is respectful and just toward women.” She looked around the grove. “There are such strong feminine energies here that it is no wonder he left. The three of you are very powerful together.”

  “Sir Dominus is known to us, from his aid on the pilgrimage. Everard, too. That is why they offered to give us an escort. I did not feel we needed it, but the commander insisted.” Mamie did not want the knights fasting or praying on their behalf. “And at the last, he joined our party. Unplanned.”

  “I remember the conversation at the table,” Hortencia said. “The Knights Templar are a strict sect. I would not be at all surprised if he found out about your friendship and interceded to protect his brothers. You are female and therefore”—she pinched her fingers together—“this close to evil.”

  Mamie recollected his change of heart, surmising it came around the time he decided to invite himself to get a secret message to the queen. And who was the evil one?

  Eleanor fumed. “Where I come from, Aquitaine, women are not chattel, and they are most definitely not evil. The church in Paris is not as educated in its views. It has been hard.” She shook her hands as if to rid herself of negativity. “Enough of that. I thank you for the dry gowns, Lady Hortencia. Tell me, where are you from?”

  “Champagne. My husband and I have been in Antioch over a year now for business. He owns a mill, and we are looking for cloth. I give you fair warning: if you ask him about any sort of fabric, you will be inundated with details.” She shook her finger at them all as Mamie laughed.

  Fay gathered the blanket, shook it out, rolled it up, and tied it to the back of her horse. “Do you like it here? Have you had any issue with the commander?”

  “We do not cross paths much. The Templars have their own house separate from the castle, on the opposite side of the stables. Herbert and I have a chamber in the palace.”

  “Princess Constance seems lovely,” Mamie said.

  “She has become a sister of the heart. I have never met such a generous woman. She’s a wonderful mother too. Have you met her son, Bohemond?”

  “Briefly,” Eleanor said, walking toward her white mare. “He looks just like his father.”

  “They make a handsome couple.” Hortencia whistled, and her horse came into the grove, plodding toward his mistress. She mounted, using a nearby rock for leverage into the sidesaddle. She faced forward, twisting her body so that her feet rested on a flat board rather than a stirrup. It allowed for a lovely seat, but for a long journey? Mamie much preferred riding astride.

  “Thank you for coming to get us,” Mamie said, directing her golden Bahi toward the trail.

  “I look forward to sharing a cup of wine with you,” Lady Hortencia said. “I can bring the scrolls regarding the local legend about the waterfall. Did you make a wish?”

  “Several,” Fay said in a droll manner.

  “Well, send a servant for me, and we can meet in the courtyard, all of us.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Eleanor said. “We shall tempt Constance to leave her duties and join us too.”

  Mamie left the grove last, sending a look over her shoulder at the waterfall. Water glistened, and energy shimmered around the small pool. Was it the spirit of Daphne or Apollo or another entity entirely who wanted her to understand that the world all around them was love?

  “Thank you,” she whispered, a shiver running through her.

  They reached the sturdy Roman road without incident, though Mamie kept alert. Yesterday there was the arrow from the Turks, and today Bartholomew had revealed a possible conspiracy against the king. She remembered Eleanor’s idea of the ships being deliberately taken off course. What if these things were not coincidence? What if someone was sabotaging the Crusade?

  Bahi, sure-footed, climbed the steep path up the mountainside toward the palace. They entered the same gate they’d left through and made their way around the edge of the teeming city.

 
“Tomorrow,” Eleanor declared, pointing to the chaos, “I wish to see the bazaars and churches.”

  “Just tell me when, and I will get everything ready,” Mamie said.

  “The city is dangerous,” Lady Hortencia cautioned.

  “I have my ladies,” Eleanor said. “I trust them with my life.”

  “That is what Commander Bartholomew said you told him.” She turned her pretty face toward Eleanor. “Still, he should have waited.”

  Eleanor said nothing, just smiled and followed Lady Hortencia toward the palace.

  Mamie looked behind them at the palace guard escort. She narrowed her eyes, picking out a certain blue-eyed knight toward the rear. He caught her looking and gave a half salute.

  Dominus.

  What was he thinking, disobeying his commander?

  She waited, whistling to signal she’d stopped.

  Fay waved in acknowledgment and stayed with the queen.

  Dominus brought his gray destrier next to her gorgeous golden girl. Bahi tossed her head, as if flirting.

  My horse, kindred spirit.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I told you I would escort you safely.”

  “And I told you I did not require such a thing.”

  He shrugged. “I blended in with the guard. What gave me away?”

  I felt your presence. “I am a bodyguard for the queen. It is my duty to know who and what is around her.”

  Nodding, Dominus gripped his reins. “What did you think of Bartholomew asking the queen about Edessa?”

  Mamie stilled. Why had he asked? Was he part of the council? He had stayed at the edges of their party since France. Spying? Or guarding, as she had thought? “I do not get involved in court games.”

  His quirked mouth showed what he thought of that.

  She steadied her mount. “Usually. Besides, it is between the queen and her uncle.”

  “I would say it is between the queen and her husband.” Dominus sat astride his horse with confidence and ease. A man comfortable in himself. But there was more to Dominus, something hidden she would uncover.

  “The matter of Edessa rightfully belongs between Raymond and Louis, as heads of state. Though I promise you that Eleanor would not like being cut from the equation. Her duchy and the accompanying vassals provided a large portion of fighting men for this quest. She has a stake in the outcome as well. Thierry and Odo would like the king to forget that, but it would be at his peril to do so.”