by Traci E Hall
Mamie eyed the mattress, realizing it was big enough for her to stretch out on without having to share. “Tempting. For the nap alone.”
He kissed her once more. “You have a body made for plundering. I will make you sing if you give me the chance.”
She said nothing, just gave a half smile that did not answer one way or another. Her body was quite willing to stay, but her memory kept going back to a pair of sea-blue eyes and a slightly crooked nose.
Not that Dominus could do anything to assuage her need—not without God’s express permission first. And while Everard shared that the Knights Templar had received a special dispensation to speak with women, she doubted it went so far as to have relations with one.
The captain left with a final, hungry look, and Mamie helped herself to the last of his wine. They simply had to survive today in order to be in a state of plenty tomorrow. What did he keep in the bottom drawer of his desk?
Dominus waited, pulling at the nets and making a mess of them until the captain arrived to solve the problem. A few moments later, another figure left the captain’s room, a red tail of long hair peeking from beneath the cloak.
Dominus wondered if he’d stopped them in time.
He didn’t question his instinct to cut in. He didn’t want Mamie and the captain to be together in any way. Especially a carnal one.
“What’s the problem here?” The captain asked harshly.
Dominus flashed a rare smile, knowing they’d been interrupted. “I seem to have gotten caught on the outrigging there. I’ve pulled, but I fear tearing the net. You mentioned losing some already in the storm?”
“You did right, asking for me. I’ll have one of the boys climb and loosen it.” The captain gave a piercing whistle. One of the sailors ran over, then to Dominus’s surprise, stripped down to breeches and hopped over the railing of the ship.
Dominus leaned all the way over, catching sight of the lad who carried a knife between his teeth. “He could lose his tongue.” His father would have beaten him senseless if he’d wandered around with a knife in his mouth.
“Non, we learned after the first time or two how to hold it, just so,” another sailor said.
“With your teeth?” a feminine voice asked.
He turned, hiding his disappointment to see Fay, the sun setting behind her. What was the matter with him, hoping it was Mamie?
“Oui,” the sailor said, baring his stained and broken set.
Fay swallowed gamely. “I would know how.”
“You?” the captain asked with a laugh.
“Oui. I have some talent in wielding a blade.”
Dominus knew the stories of the queen and her ladies and had seen them ride as well as shoot arrows. He cleared his throat. “I think he’s crawling back up now. More nimble than the monkeys we saw in Constantinople.”
Everard laughed as the boy vaulted over the railing and landed on his feet. Realizing he was the center of attention, he bowed with flourish. “The net is free, sirrah,” he told Dominus.
“My thanks. I will return to catching fish.”
“Attempting, is more like,” Everard pointed out with a glance at Fay.
“Just wait,” Dominus said. His fingers found the rough edge of the rope, and his shoulders set as they’d done a thousand times before.
How to stop Mamie for the duration of the voyage? Tomorrow was a long way away. It was not as if he could step in and offer her a substitution. He’d almost lost his will when she’d touched his hair.
Mamie walked out of the queen’s tent, Eleanor at her side. The women were beautiful. Though he was not supposed to notice, he was not blind, by God, either. Mamie’s cheeks were flushed, her mouth red.
She and the captain had kissed, then.
He swallowed and, knowing she’d be watching, arced the net expertly out over the water.
The captain nodded his approval. “You must have caught a bad wind the first time, eh?”
“Oui.” Dominus focused on the task at hand rather than risking punching the captain in the mouth. Mamie possessed much to admire, though he tried to avoid looking. She was temptation, with red hair and generous breasts, curved hips, and a laugh that rocked him to his toes.
Dear God, if he’d punched all the men Mamie had looked at, or who had looked at Mamie, he’d be fighting from dusk until dawn. Non, from dawn to dawn. Better to complete his mission and keep her tucked in his bed, too busy to flirt with anyone else.
Chapter Four
“It will be good to see my uncle,” Eleanor said, lifting her chin as if preparing for battle. “I but wish that my husband would greet him with me, rather than his aides, at his side. What does that say of our marriage? Not that I am his cherished love; non, but that he is acting officiously instead of opening his arms in friendship to my family.”
Fay, Mamie, and Larissa all waited on deck with the queen. For the second day in a row, there were clear skies and a bright sun. The spring air held a hint of chill, but the rain was a memory and the inlet calm.
“Do you see him?” Mamie stood on her tiptoes and eyed the pier.
“Which him?” Fay asked, shielding her eyes. They each had dressed with as much care as possible under the circumstances. Despite Larissa’s best efforts, the stench of fish and mold lingered.
Fay had chosen the queen’s favorite gown, the light yellow with a brighter inset of lace. Mamie wore a rose red, and the queen, reluctantly, Louis’s blue and gold.
“Raymond,” Eleanor said.
“No. Nothing.” Mamie shuffled forward a few more steps. Her gaze strayed to the knights at her left.
Near them, Dominus and Everard waited to disembark. Ever since they’d left Constantinople, the two knights had been attached to the queen’s vanguard, independently, of course. It was slow moving, and Eleanor’s patience grew thin. Since Louis had gone first without discussing the situation with her, Eleanor, furious, had refused to tell him of the gift she’d thought of for her uncle—one of the prized relics they’d gotten in Smyrna.
Mamie held a hand over her eyes, looking out toward the craggy mountain. It amazed her that people had managed to build homes on the steep slopes. There was a large wooden cross at the very top of the closest mountain. And a bell? Something shiny.
The captain, dressed in coat, belt, hat, and shiny black boots, sidled close, pulling her attention away. “Blessings on your journey to Jerusalem, Mamille of Rou.”
“Thank you,” Mamie said with a dip of her head. “So this is Antioch?”
“The northern section. You can’t see it from here, but the palace is quite grand. The city has giant walls built from Roman times. It is good that the Christians keep it intact. I saw you noticing the Saint Symeon monastery.”
“It is difficult to miss.” She smiled. “What is that music I hear?”
“A choir singing your welcome. I warned you that I had sent word of your coming. Count Jocelyn of Edessa’s banner is there, to the left. Numerous counts of Antioch have come to show their support. See the tallest banner: blue, red, and gold? That is Patriarch Aimery.”
“Who is he?”
“The spiritual leader of all Antioch. An important man for your quest.” He lowered his voice. “I wish you blessings, while my heart sorrows at your departure.”
Mamie doubted the charming captain’s heart was involved at all but gave him a wink.
“If I can be of any service,” he drawled, bowing low, “send word to me.”
“He has done enough.” Fay laughed, pulling her forward and away.
Mamie simpered and waved.
The captain grinned. Charmer.
“We were thwarted,” Mamie said, “by fate.” But she wondered, once she realized who was behind the net incident, if there might be another set of hands at play.
Fay snickered.
“You are cruel, mon ami, to rub it in so. Salt in an open wound.” Odd, though, how she had no regrets. If she had stayed with the captain, she was certain guilt would hound her. Now is not the ti
me to develop a conscience.
“I misunderstood the situation.” Fay curtsied and walked backward. “The blessing is that you will have more men to choose from in Antioch.”
“And better wine.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Eleanor stopped walking until they caught up. “I saw you speaking to the captain.”
“He was telling us who waited at the pier.” Mamie tugged on her fitted sleeves. “We are working for you, my queen. Always working.”
Eleanor, in no mood to jest, pointed to the dock and the land beyond. People milled around, wanting to see the royals from France. “Look at how Odo and Thierry are standing by Louis. You will remain on either side of me, mon fleurs. We might not be the spectacle we were in Constantinople, but I will not have you forget your duties to me.”
“Never,” Mamie promised, patting the sword at her side. It had been too warm for a cloak, and Eleanor wanted them to look pretty, so Mamie had rigged a split in the seam of her skirt.
“Never,” Fay repeated, her voice solemn.
“And I’ll just walk behind you, hoping to avoid your hems.” Larissa scoffed.
“I asked you if you wanted to become a guard, and you said no,” Eleanor chided. “You want to go home and marry your farmer. Do not talk to me about hems.”
“You did what?” Mamie asked.
Not that Larissa couldn’t be trained, but the handmaiden was not royal. Eleanor had pulled the peasant girl from the castle rather than risk a young noble daughter of one of her lords. Larissa had agreed despite the danger and was earning a farm and a husband on their return to France. Then again, Mamie had just found out that Sarah had not been noble born either. Perhaps none of that mattered in the end.
“I’ve lost three guards on this pilgrimage. Two to their own destiny and one to death.” Eleanor slipped an arm around Mamie’s waist and the other around Fay, all three of them stepping slowly forward. Royal guards stayed on point around them. “I do not have time to train any others.”
“Our journey is almost over,” Fay reminded the queen. “Though I am sure women could be found to take their place in your guard. Perhaps not to the same level of skill, but it would look the way you envision.”
“That is the crux of the problem. My flowers cannot be replaced. New ones grown, oui, with time. Hence, my reaching out to Madame Thorn.”
Mamie laughed and sent a sympathetic glance over her shoulder to Larissa. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“That will not happen.” She lifted a basket of the queen’s personal belongings. “I have enough to occupy my hands.”
“Hush now. What is going on up there?” Eleanor gestured toward the river. The gangway was at a stop as King Louis and his retinue disembarked, pausing to speak with the nobles on the way. “I wish I was closer.”
“I admire your restraint, my queen.” Mamie knew how much Eleanor wanted to be in the thick of things. And she had sorely missed her uncle, her family. Mamie surmised that Odo and Thierry had played upon the king’s fears in order to keep Eleanor at the back of the procession.
Eleanor had outwardly taken the news with good grace.
Behind the thin tent flap, she’d fumed.
“Fay, my chameleon, hurry to the front and see who is there to greet us.”
Fay returned just as the people started moving forward again. The queen’s appointed captain walked with his men in a loose square at either side of the ship. Louis insisted they follow formal protocol. In order to keep the peace, Eleanor hadn’t protested.
“No sign of Raymond yet,” Fay said, her voice just above a whisper. “The Patriarch of Antioch, Aimery of Limoges, is offering his blessing to all as they pass off the ship. That’s nice, but it is why we are stuck here.”
A few tense moments passed. Mamie, out of habit, searched the area around them for anything out of the ordinary. A Turkish plume, or the glint of steel in the distance. Dominus stood, his palm resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword. He had somehow managed to keep his white tunic clean. His profile reminded her of an antique coin she’d seen once. Yes, the break in his nose gave him a Roman look.
Mamie saw a flurry of banners round a bend in the river. She turned to Eleanor. “Is that him?”
“Oui!” Eleanor cried, her face lighting up with affection.
Fay stood next to Mamie, her eyes wide. “Drama must be a family trait. Are those flaming torches?”
“Probably. Doesn’t he look handsome?” Eleanor gushed, clasping her hands to her chest once she realized she’d been pointing.
Fay hummed her agreement, while Mamie nodded. Raymond was everything Eleanor said he was. At least a head taller than the courtiers around him, broad of shoulder, he had an easy, inviting laugh that traveled across the water.
“This is the Orontes River, plenty deep enough for a galley,” the queen’s captain said. “I wonder if we will all sail to the Prince of Antioch’s palace?”
“Go find out,” Eleanor ordered. “Come straight back. I dislike standing about.”
Eleanor’s demeanor became haughty the longer she had to wait. Mamie understood the slight and whispered, “Should we make our way to the front anyway? I have sharp elbows.”
As if sensing his niece’s presence, Raymond looked across the expanse of people, including King Louis, whom he did not even pause to acknowledge, and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Eleanor, what took you so long?”
The boisterous greeting made everyone laugh. The band played louder, and the people cheered.
Eleanor, cheeks flushed, waved back, her dignity restored at being favored. “No need to crush forward,” she said, relaxing her shoulders. “I will wait for a private audience.”
“Not too private?” Fay reminded. “We are here to watch over you—as you told us.”
“I need fear nothing in my uncle’s palace.”
Mamie shivered at the queen’s statement. She rarely prayed with intent or expected results, but she whispered a quick Hail Mary to ensure the queen’s fiery words did not bring on the worst. She lifted her head, catching the glint of light flash from the bell. What was that?
“Fay,” Mamie said. “The queen!” She saw nothing, but her senses were alert. She scanned the ocean, the villas clinging to the side of the mountain. Where was the danger coming from?
Fay stepped next to the queen. “Mamie? What’s wrong?”
An arrow sounded from her right and she turned, reaching for her sword, her fingers grabbing fabric instead of metal. She clutched Fay’s shoulder, shoved Larissa and the queen together, and looked for Dominus. A second arrow skidded across the deck. “We are under attack!”
Dominus and Everard stayed at the edges of the patrol around the queen. He did not anticipate trouble this close to the city. Not from the Turks, anyway.
“Will we check in with the patriarch?” Dominus asked Everard.
“No.” He kept a steady pace with Dominus. “Since I have not been to Antioch before either, I asked one of the other Templars. He said we go to the Templar House and see Commander Bartholomew. He will give us fresh horses and gear.”
“Dominus, to me!”
He heard Mamie’s shout and turned, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. He recognized her tone from Laodicea, where the caravan had been under constant Turkish fire.
“Come,” she said, her full mouth in a straight rose-colored line. Her cheeks were bright, her stature stiff as a soldier’s. “Stand here.” She pulled him across the deck, where the queen covered a servant with her body as the servant struggled to protect the queen.
Everard followed at his heels.
“What is going on?” Years of battle experience brought calm to a strange situation. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was prepared to fight, or protect, whichever was needed.
Mamie kicked a red-shafted arrow and pointed to the giant cross on the mountain. “Turkish archers coming from the hill below there. Guard the queen with your life.”
Domi
nus pulled his sword free, searching the mountains until he saw a glint of iron in the distance. Another arrow landed in the water.
“More than one archer,” he told them in a steady voice. “They are far away.”
“Not far enough,” Mamie said, sword out. “Turks!” she shouted toward the king’s soldiers, who were oblivious to the danger until her warning.
The other passengers waiting to get off the ship shouted, a woman screamed, and people began pushing one another.
Fay positioned Everard to the right of the queen so that the four of them had their backs together, the queen and Larissa hunched down in the center.
“The first arrow landed at my feet.” Mamie had a large tear in the side of her red skirt, the ivory-and-white undergown showing.
Was she hurt? Dominus’s heart sped, but he saw no injury. She held a sword in one hand, smaller than the average sword a knight such as himself carried, but it seemed perfectly suited to her stature.
“What is going on?” Eleanor asked.
Dominus was surprised at first by the lack of hysterics, but then reminded himself that these women had been to war. As much as he disapproved of women wielding weapons, they knew how to handle themselves when under attack.
“Turkish archers,” Mamie said, holding her position as people jostled one another. She gave an elbow to a noble who veered too close. A wet thunk sounded, and a soldier yelled, pulling at the arrow embedded in his leg.
“We have to get out of here,” Mamie said, eyes searching, alert.
The queen’s captain rushed back, his face pale. He whistled, and the king’s men fell into position with them.
“Make way,” the captain shouted. “To the front.”
Dominus, Everard, Fay, and Mamie shuffled forward with the king’s men, the queen protected at all times in their center.
Once they finally reached the gangplank, Eleanor and Larissa were whisked on board Raymond’s ship with Louis. They sailed away.
“Mon Dieu,” Mamie said, her brow furrowed as she stared at the receding ship. “She should have waited for us.”
Fay, scrubbing her nose with the back of her hand, looked ready to spit nails.
