by Traci E Hall
Louis did not apologize, Dominus noted. Each of the men sat down, the silence deafening.
“What might be?” Odo asked, leaning forward, with his hands on his knees. Sitting on the stool made him a little shorter than the royals—as intended, no doubt—but Odo did not let that stop him.
“Well, yes,” Raymond said, after exchanging glances with Bartholomew. “Edessa is an important piece of Outremer. Without her, we have only three parts of the four. And the fourth is suspect.”
“Constantinople?” Eleanor clarified, turning toward her uncle.
“I have heard how terribly Manuel treated you while you were there.” Raymond crossed one ankle over the other.
Louis’s cheeks paled. “I am sure you did hear,” the king said. “However, Manuel was civil enough to me and my council, sharing with us the beauty of the churches there. The Hagia Sophia and the ancient relics of Christ.”
Louis and his advisors wore identical expressions of fury, as if they wanted to speak but were somehow honor-bound to keep silent.
Eleanor’s pinky twitched, and Dominus watched her hide it in the fabric of her gown. “Constantinople is filled with such history. It is a shame there is not more western influence within the city.”
Louis whipped his head toward his wife.
Mamie swallowed, putting a hand to her throat. She was so pale her freckles were visible from a distance.
“I enjoyed much of what the city had to offer.” Fay laughed, the sound forced. “But I am looking forward to getting home.”
“To France?” Constance asked, seeming relieved.
“Non, to Aquitaine. The beauty of your city makes me homesick.” Fay lifted her shoulders in a small shrug.
“Oui,” Eleanor said. “I look forward to discovering more of Antioch’s treasures.”
“We will be leaving in ten days,” Louis announced.
Odo nodded.
“Leaving?” Eleanor said. “But—”
“I have spoken with those knights who have returned, and they believe they are the last to arrive from Laodicea. Ten days is enough for them to rest. I will get them each supplied before we go,” Louis said, looking at Raymond. “To Jerusalem.”
Dominus dared to peer closer into the room, hidden by ivy and daffodils. Bartholomew looked furious. Betrayed. He was not the only one.
As if realizing the impact of his words, Louis said, “Raymond, you are welcome to join us and enter the holy city as part of our caravan. Once we have reached there and honored God, I promise to come back with you and fight for Edessa.” Louis tapped his chest. “Above all, this is about God.”
Raymond’s mouth was white as he clamped his lips together.
Bartholomew spoke next. “This Crusade was brought about to save the Christian states from ruin. Edessa is taken, and we cannot afford to let the Turks gain a stronghold. It makes Antioch vulnerable. We have a plan.”
Raymond sent him a warning look.
“I have seen your fortress. Your walls will stand. I will come back,” Louis said, his face sad. “Come with me,” he asked again.
“I cannot leave my city unattended,” Raymond said, his demeanor tightly controlled as he looked at everyone in the room. “If Nur ad-Din knows I am gone, Antioch will not be here when I return.”
“You must stay,” Constance agreed in a small voice. “This is our home.” She pulled Bo onto her lap.
“Do not worry, mon cher,” Raymond said. “I will not desert you.”
Lady Hortencia blinked quickly, as if fighting tears. “Are we really in danger of the Turks overrunning the city?”
“Not if I stay,” Raymond said. “Commander Bartholomew has been training the secular knights as well as his Templars. We have a magnificent army. Primed for battle.” He glared at Louis and his advisors. “Edessa.”
“I can see that we are at odds, and for that I am sorry,” Louis said, getting to his feet. “I will go with you and fight for Edessa, along with the others already waiting for us in Jerusalem.”
“Who waits,” Eleanor asked, “in the holy city?”
Odo, Thierry, and Bartholomew looked at her as if she dared to interfere with men’s business. “Louis, who is already in Jerusalem?”
“Conrad,” the king answered reluctantly.
“After his betrayal, you hurry to his side?”
“This is a complicated affair, with half of our enemy being related to us.” Louis reached out for Eleanor’s hand. “I have prayed, my queen, and I feel the absence of God’s light. We dare not wait much longer.”
She pulled her hand from his grasp. “I would have words with you, Husband, in private.” The tone sounded ominous.
Little Bo, running with the elephant, came close to the doors. Fortune smiled on him as the child kept going, not pausing for a moment to look upward. He returned to studying the group through the slit between the door and wall.
“Of course.” Louis stepped away from the chaise. “Send word when you are ready. I am free now?”
Eleanor’s shoulders were set with pride Dominus could see from his hiding place. “Not now. I would listen to Uncle Raymond’s stories of battle. Glorious victory against the odds.” Her beauty—for even in her anger she was beautiful—shone, and he could see that Louis was awed. Humbled.
But not shamed. The king believed he was doing the right thing.
Dominus could not fault a man for that.
Bo raced out of the room and onto the balcony, his feet barely touching the paved stones as he flew his elephant high above his head.
Not looking.
Dominus saw the accident as it happened. Heard Mamie’s shout for Bo to stop, heard Bo hit the wall hard enough for it to crack. The boy teetered on the edge. One inch more and he’d go over, after the elephant, to crash onto the rocks below.
He leaped from the roof. The boy balanced on his belly, kicking wildly in the air as the balcony wall crumbled beneath his slight weight. His heart pounded in his ears—thump, thump—and he grabbed the boy’s foot just as the rest of the wall fell apart.
Dominus pulled him back into the rubble, then raced around the balcony out of sight. He scrambled up the side of the wall and waited, hoping his loud breaths were not audible to the others as they came running from the room to the balcony.
Chapter Fourteen
Mamie breathed a sigh of relief.
Dominus had saved the child and himself.
A man of honor.
But what else was he?
She was getting a better idea of what he was not. She had not asked yet about his status as a Templar or a married man.
Constance picked up her son, tears streaming down her face. “I told you not to come out here, Bo, and this is why. You could have been hurt very badly.”
“A lesson learned,” Raymond said, tousling the boy’s hair.
“My elephant is gone.” Bo stuck a thumb in his mouth.
“Another lesson learned, Bo,” Raymond said sternly. “Look where you are going.” He pressed a kiss to Bo’s forehead.
“I will get another,” Lady Hortencia said, her eyes rimmed in red, “in the market.”
Bo’s tears dried at the mention of another adventure. He hiccupped and reached for Mamie.
“Your son is charming, like his father,” Mamie said, then turned to Constance. “And his mother. He is a lucky boy.”
Bo looked to Mamie. “Will you take me to the market?”
Her heart begged her to say no. But how could she? “If it is all right with your parents, then yes, you may come with us when we go to the market.”
“When, when?”
“We will talk with your mother and decide.” She handed him back to Constance and looked at Eleanor, who was sending mutinous glares toward Louis.
Mamie cleared her throat, ready to remind Eleanor that she and Louis had a family, that they ruled a kingdom, together. “My queen, have you received word about Marie? This scare has me worrying over every child I know.” Mamie fanned her face
and waited for Eleanor’s answer.
“Non. But I will send a note myself,” she said, her stance softening.
“May I add my affection to yours?” Louis asked. “Our daughter is now foremost in my thoughts as well.”
“Of course.” Eleanor sighed, then looked at Fay. “Will you bring my writing box to the courtyard where we sat yesterday?” Turning to her husband, she said, “Join me now. We can write the letter together.”
Mamie exhaled and turned away. Perhaps the queen would convince the king to see her side. Or even create a common ground between them.
“Let us meet in the hall before dinner for a round of chess?” Raymond included them all in the invitation.
“Gladly,” Louis said, earning a look of approval from Eleanor.
“Come.” Everyone drifted from the room, and Mamie went last. Pretending to want one last view of the distant ocean, she went to the broken balcony wall and looked up at the roof. Dominus was gone.
For the first time in a while, Mamie gave a prayer of genuine thanks.
She hurried to the bathhouse, but it was empty. Sitting on a bench outside of the building, she waited until the sun reached its zenith.
Just as she was ready to leave, she heard a whistle off to her left. She looked toward the sound and saw a thin, rough trail leading up the side of the mountain.
This had better be worth it. She carefully chose her steps. Too much time to think gave her many things to ask about. Where to even begin? Her own heart wanted to know about Meggie and forget the rest.
She slipped on a loose rock, then lifted her hem. The whistles stopped at a trio of olive trees, the trunks twisted with age though the limbs were heavy with greenish-silver leaves and blossoms.
“Here,” came a deep whisper.
“I know it is you,” Mamie said, exasperated.
“No names, please,” he said, pulling aside a laden branch to a hidden space among the trees.
Mamie ducked and entered. “Not bad for a secret liaison.”
“Nothing untoward, Madame Rou,” he said, looking very monkish with his brown robe and tonsured head.
“You have nothing to worry about from me,” she promised. “I prefer my men to be men. With hair.”
He grimaced and touched his head. “I was on the roof too long. I fear it might blister.”
A reluctant smile crossed her face. “Find some aloe vera and put it on your head. It will soothe the burn. Daisy lotion will work as well.”
“But how am I supposed to explain my red pate to the commander?”
Biting her lip to keep from giggling, Mamie shrugged. “You will think of something. You are very quick on your feet. Thank you for saving Bo from a broken neck.”
“I know about boys,” he said. “I told you, I had brothers.”
Mamie nodded, her gaze speculative. “Tell me about the bishop. How do you know him?”
“I agreed to work with him before the Crusade—and I am not being difficult when I tell you there is not much else to say. I wonder if a message was lost, for this one makes no sense. ‘Two should be as one. Once divided, it cannot be made whole.’” He crushed an olive leaf between his thumb and forefinger. “I do not understand it.”
“What did you write to him about? Is it an answer to something you questioned?”
Dominus brought the leaf to his nose and sniffed. “Sweet. When the olives are salty.”
“Packed in brine. You are changing the subject.”
“Not successfully.” He tossed the leaf to the ground. “He asked me to observe the king and his men. Not to spy or interfere, just watch.”
“What did you see?” Mamie pressed.
He closed his eyes, remembering his last message sent. “An argument between Louis and Eleanor, about his advisors. I may have written that they don’t allow her near Louis as much as she would like.”
“Perhaps that is what the ‘Two should be as one’ refers to?” She put a hand on a hip. “That once divided it can’t be made whole? That could be in reference to the caravan splitting.”
“This is good, talking it out.” He gestured between them. “But I must hurry. If I am not back in my room by the last ring of the bell, it will not just be me in trouble with the commander. I warn you, Mamie, to be careful of Raymond of Antioch. He is a winner, I think at any cost. I saw his eyes today, and he wants control of Edessa.”
Mamie considered this, plucking a white blossom from the tree. “Eleanor feels he can take the city.” She looked at him. “I would like to know more about the commander. I will search his quarters with you.”
“You look nothing like a Templar.” He touched the blond fringe above his brows. “Unless you want me to give you a haircut?”
Mamie chuckled, guarding her heart against him. “No, thank you. I am serious, Dominus. I can help you in the Templar House.”
“I am better off on my own.”
She held his gaze. “Do you think so?”
“For this, oui, I do. I trust your skills, though. I have seen you in battle, madame.”
They shared a look that made Mamie’s toes curl. “I thought you were in a hurry to leave?”
“The Templars are not allowed to have anything under lock and key.”
“I wonder if that is the same rule for commanders . . .” She allowed her voice to trail off as she dove headfirst into the sea of Dominus’s eyes. She knew such a color existed but only because she’d joined the queen’s guard and seen the Mediterranean for herself.
He stepped close, his mouth a few inches from hers, and curled a red lock of hair around a finger. He tugged it, bringing her face closer to his. “You have beautiful hair.” Closer. “Face.” Closer. “Lips.” A hair’s breadth away. Almost touching but tantalizingly out of reach.
“Dominus,” she whispered, “be careful of what you do.” Heart racing, she pushed away from him so she could breathe. She backed into the tree and came to realize the truth.
“You are not a Templar.”
He followed her footsteps. “What are you saying?” He rested an elbow against the gnarled trunk of the olive tree to the left of her body, then reached out with his opposite hand to cup her cheek. She was neatly pinned between the tree and his body.
Her heart raced as she put the pieces together. “Your hair has never been shaved before now. Your scalp is too tender. You are muscled—a warrior.” She gripped a bicep and squeezed. “Hard as oak.”
He shifted, close enough that she felt his interest stir. She gave a husky laugh, every part of her body wanting to get closer, though she kept her hands glued to the tree at her back. “You are no monk.”
“The pope would not be able to resist you.” Dominus leaned close, his breath against her ear. “I will not deny it. Where does that leave us?”
She ducked under his arm and danced out of reach. “Why the facade?”
“I told you, I am working for the bishop.”
She forced her senses to think of something besides the feel of Dominus’s calloused hand against her cheek. Enough to make her melt when she had her own work to do. “Is there something in particular that you are supposed to be looking for? Something within the king’s retinue or the queen’s?”
“The queen is not my interest.” She saw the truth in his gaze. “Bishop Clairvaux asked that I be in correspondence with him. I owed him a debt, and this is how he wanted it repaid. Not many knights can read and write. I can.”
“There has to be more,” Mamie said sternly, squelching the singing in her heart. He might not be a monk, but he was still married. “You are dressed as a Templar.”
“He sent a message, one that I got when we were in Smyrna, about a possible rebellion.”
“What?” She frowned. “Have you seen such a thing?”
“Nothing but honor and accord, despite the discipline.” He stopped. “As you have said, the one glaring question is Bartholomew’s allegiance to Raymond.”
“Not allegiance. Alliance. They are working together,
but who can know where their loyalties lie? Bartholomew is training Raymond’s army. He must be a good commander.”
Dominus paced under the trees. “He is teaching a select group of Raymond’s men to fight the same as the Templars. Uniting them into a solitary unit.” Dominus stopped. “Because he is training the men to be a part of Raymond’s army.”
“Isn’t that what Templars do?”
“No. They go to war wearing the white cloak and cross of a Templar, sworn to the pope, with no country they owe fealty to. They have no reason to fight for Raymond, unless Bartholomew has convinced them otherwise.”
“We need to find out,” Mamie said.
“This is where I need your help,” he said.
“I guard the queen. I do not do your bidding.”
“This would be protecting the queen, all right. Against her uncle.”
She closed her eyes. Eleanor adored Raymond, at the cost of her closeness with the king, her husband.
“What is your plan?” She hated to ask, as it felt disloyal. But if she needed to protect the queen—from the queen—what else could she do?
“Listen to anything pertaining to Edessa. Raymond wants to bring it back into the fold. Why?”
“Because it is the right thing to do!” Was there no honor in that? Dominus was determined to make her see shadows lurking in every corner, but Mamie would not dwell in a state of fear.
“That is the obvious answer. Why else would a man, known to bend the rules for his own gain, want to take over a weaker state?”
“To rule it.” She turned quickly, tripping. She grabbed onto a branch, and the limb swayed with her weight.
Dominus put an arm around her until she was steady again.
Though it was wrong, she stayed there. “But Jocelyn is here, with Raymond. He will want his own city back.”
“Raymond will oversee the city, giving him control of two of the four Christian states,” Dominus said. “The two smallest—but Bartholomew’s elite army would suddenly make Edessa and Antioch the deadliest.”
Mamie bowed her head in thought, her mind whirling like Bo’s wooden top. “Conjecture,” she whispered. “We need proof.”