by Traci E Hall
“I feel afraid to close my eyes,” the queen confessed in a sleepy voice. “For what if this has all been a dream?”
Mamie gathered their cups and put them on the table. “We are awake.”
“No dreaming,” Fay said. “This has been the best day you’ve had since Aquitaine.”
“Fay.” Eleanor held a hand out for assistance.
“What? I was going to say that it has been my best day too.”
“Really?”
“No.” Fay laughed. “Not really. Every day is my best day.”
“That is what I admire about you. Your willingness to greet the day as if it were a fresh beginning. No grudges.”
They walked down the stairs of the dais, around the musicians, and out of the room.
“Grudges do no good.”
“I forget that sometimes.” Queen Eleanor leaned against Fay as they walked together. “I let my pride have its way.”
Mamie trailed a few steps behind, searching the shadows ahead out of habit.
“Mamie?”
She turned at the masculine voice, and to her surprise Dominus waited for her on a marble-and-wood bench down the left hall. “Go on,” she told Fay. “I will be there shortly.”
Fay nodded, and the two women kept walking.
“Thank you,” Dominus said. “I will not keep you long.”
She quieted her nerves and reminded herself of her own code: no tempting a man to stray from God.
“What can I do for you?” Mamie held her hands at her waist, like the lady of the manor. Polite, aloof.
“I wanted to set a time for us to go to the grove together.” He made to take her hands, then pulled back. “Though I did not say so earlier, I admired your quick wits this morning. You saw the danger and acted. As a bodyguard would do.”
His observation warmed her. That he’d made a point to tell her really warmed her. Had he been drinking, to loosen his tongue?
“Thank you. It is my duty to protect the queen with my life,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind too much my tossing you into the mix.”
“I am still alive to tell the tale.” He smiled, and her knees trembled.
“Something we can all give thanks for.” The world would be a colder place without Dominus in it.
He gave her a curious look.
“It is nothing,” she said. “Is there anything else, Dominus?”
Dominus hesitated, then gestured her closer. “I have a question that perhaps is none of my concern, but if I may?”
Intrigued, Mamie nodded.
“The queen has trained you ladies to be personal bodyguards. I have seen a sampling of your skill. What else can you do?”
His low voice triggered Mamie’s senses, and she fought against a wave of attraction. She chuckled, tapping him on the forearm as if he were a normal man. “That is not for you to know, monsieur, but trust me when I say that I have my talents.”
Dominus noticed the slight flush of color inching up the side of Mamie’s throat. Her quick breaths caused her chest to rise and fall in a way that made him damn his duties to hell. He’d never been the kind of man who had to have a woman—no, he’d been particular. Mamie teased his subdued libido without even trying.
She breathed out, and he wanted to be her next breath in. Where was his famed self-control? On the battlefield, he’d earned respect for his bravery. His courage. Here, he hid behind a white cloak, unable to touch the woman he wanted most.
“I hope one of those talents is riding after a night of dancing.”
Her lips lifted. “Not to worry, Dominus.”
“What time shall we meet you at the stables?”
“Send a servant to our room when you are almost ready to go. Prepare to wait a goodly time”—she smiled and shrugged—“and then we will be there. Queen Eleanor is not always quick in the morning. I have reconsidered your offer as escort. It is right to have one here in the city. When it was just us on the caravan, I forgot the rules of civilization.”
“Why do I think you did not much care for them before then?”
She folded her hands, pointing her fingers down. Mamie looked like a temptress as she tilted her head. Her green eyes sparkled; her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. When she smiled, she showed a gap between her teeth. But it was the way her nose, dusted with freckles, turned upward that really did him in.
“You are correct,” she said.
“A fault of mine.”
She laughed out loud, then covered her mouth. “Well, it is good to know our faults, so that we may fix them.”
“Or make them work for us,” he said, wanting to hold her attention. “As I have chosen to do.”
“What other faults do you claim?” She gave him an appraising look. “In our journey together I have seen none. You do not drink to excess, you ride like a centaur, you are quick to the fray but not hot of temper.”
She’d noticed all that?
“I have plenty, though it pleases me you haven’t seen them.”
Mamie shook her head and took a decisive step back, fanning her face with a hand. “I should go. It does not do to keep the queen waiting.”
He wasn’t ready for her to leave, so he asked another question he immediately regretted. “Are you happy in her service?”
She looked surprised. “Oui. Queen Eleanor is an amazing woman. An intelligent leader with a compassionate heart.” Mamie bit her lower lip and gazed directly into his soul. “And you? Are you content with God?”
He laughed, which shocked her into laughing too.
“God and I have an understanding,” he said.
She crossed her arms, and he wondered if he’d revealed too much. But God help him, he did not want her finding another man’s arms for solace or passion. She had to see him and want him as much as he craved her.
He could not fault her for her passions. Could he lay blame at her feet for not wanting another husband? Any man would be unworthy of all she offered. Though his hands were tied behind his back, she was free. She saw him as forbidden, despite his desire.
How could he get out of his damned oath? God would understand, but there was no way on this good earth that Bishop Clairvaux would forgive the trespass.
“Bonsoir,” she said, turning with a last lingering look before walking away.
Her hips swayed with feminine enticement. Mamie reached the stairs, not once looking back. If she had, she’d have seen him staring at her like the lovesick boy he’d accused Everard of being. He stayed there until the last red coiled locks were out of sight, then exhaled, not realizing he’d been holding his breath.
Mamie of Rou was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, with a few things added for good measure.
He clenched his fists at his side. He could not in good conscience even talk to her, as it broke the Templar rules. Dominus did not understand why any man would give up female companionship forever. He had practiced abstinence when need be, but the idea of never lying with a woman again?
Non.
His brothers had taken care of propagating the family seed. He did not need a wife or children. But a lover? Mamie reminded him of how long he’d gone without the soft comforts of a woman’s arms.
Now was not the time to falter.
He had a duty, a mission.
God help him.
Chapter Nine
Mamie woke early, anticipating the outing to the grove. And seeing Dominus, in the flesh. He’d visited her last night as she’d slept, proving his prowess as a lover. There was a part of her that was willing to chance damnation to find out if her dreams had any merit.
“What are we wearing today, my queen? Our split skirts, which have been cleaned and mended as if by sprites?” Fay held her skirt up close to the window. “I swear this was ruined beyond repair.”
Larissa, holding an assortment of the queen’s new gowns gifted by her uncle, sniffed. “It’s a miracle. I was hoping to never see those skirts again.”
Laughing, Mamie slipped from the be
d she’d shared with Fay. The door between the rooms was open so they could all prepare for the day together. Ribbons, laces, and perfumed scarves covered every surface.
“I never had sisters,” Mamie said. “Is this what it would be like?”
“Worse,” Larissa opined.
Fay giggled. “Growing up in Aquitaine with Petronilla and Eleanor and all the cousins was more fun than a country fair.”
“We snuck away to a few of those,” Eleanor said fondly.
“I learned how to do my somersaults and flips there.” Fay dropped the skirt. “Naked, at first.”
Mamie gasped in delight.
Eleanor held her stomach and laughed deep. “Oh, dear. I remember. You were so determined to learn how to do it, and you tore your dress. So you took it off. Then you tore your undergown, so that went too. Twelve, weren’t we? And you a stick figure. You’ve got curves now, at least.”
“Not much,” Fay said with scorn. “Mamie’s the one with curves.”
“I cannot do a somersault.” Mamie shook her head at the thought. “Especially naked. Dear God.”
“Yes. Split skirts,” Eleanor decided. “I would like to have you dressed as my official guard, even if there are just the two of you. I trust you with my life.” She smiled at each of them. “And you have proven your loyalty again and again.”
Mamie nodded. “Constance gave us crimson-and-white capes. Boots, everything?”
Eleanor clapped. “Oui. You know how I adore the pageantry, and this will most likely be the only opportunity for me to show you off without tweaking Louis’s nose.” She bowed her head. “We cannot seem to find mutual ground.”
Hating for the queen to be unhappy, Mamie gave a saucy wink. “You know best how to make him see your side. He loves you.”
Eleanor snorted. “Odo and Thierry get harder to bypass every day. But I will think of something. I wonder what God has planned for us. It never seems to be what we think. If it is true and there is magic in Daphne’s grove, I might ask a boon.”
“We were talking of prayers last night.” Fay donned the skirt over the chemise and added a lace-up vest that pushed her breasts forward. “Now I have curves.” She laughed.
“And lovely they are,” Mamie said. She got dressed quickly, matching Fay down to the crimson-and-white leggings. “I wish we were performing again.” She lunged with a pretend sword at the bed curtain.
Fay sashayed across the large chamber. “We should practice to keep our skills sharp.”
“We could barely stand aboard the ship,” Mamie lamented. “It took all of our skill just to stay on deck.”
A knock sounded, and Larissa answered. She listened to the servant give his message and then shut the door.
Eleanor leaned against the entrance between the two rooms. “Well?”
“Sir Dominus is at the stables, prepared to wait and to keep on waiting.” Larissa shrugged.
Mamie huffed. “That Templar has a sense of humor hidden behind the white tunic and red cross.”
“What are you talking about?” Eleanor asked.
“Our conversation from last night.” Damn it, her nerves tightened. She’d sworn he’d flirted, which must have been the reason for him in her dreams. He did not belong there.
She felt a great pity for Eve—why was the forbidden fruit the juiciest and most tempting?
Eleanor changed three times before she decided to wear an emerald gown with white fur trim. She chose an emerald the size of her fist for a pendant and the crown Constance had given her the day before. She wore her hair curled loosely beneath a white-and-green silk veil.
“Stunning,” Fay said, sitting on the bed with her feet propped on a stool, examining her fingernails with exaggerated disinterest.
“Fay!” Eleanor said. “This is my first outing in Antioch. As queen. I must look the part.”
“You are the part.”
Eleanor looked to Mamie, obviously vexed.
“Beautiful. Regal. Royal. It is the fur that does it.”
The queen rolled her eyes. “Wonderful.”
“Let us go before Dominus and Everard forget what they are waiting for,” Fay said.
“Fine. But the black boots—”
“Do not match the white accessories. Brown is better. Come.” She took Eleanor’s elbow. “Enough already.”
They stopped at the kitchen to pick up the basket they’d had prepared for a light outdoor meal, then easily found the back courtyard and stables. Dominus and Everard jumped up, smiling in greeting.
“We apologize for being so late,” Fay began.
“Non,” Everard said. “I have sisters. I understand.”
Mamie shared a laugh with Dominus. “I did not have sisters,” Mamie said.
Dominus smiled. “Brothers do not care what they look like before leaving the keep.”
“I did not have a brother either.”
“Well, you have us now,” Fay said. “And siblings require attention.”
“I am glad to have you.” Her life before had been more about the man she was married to and not about herself or her feelings. She’d loved her husbands, but when they’d died, she’d been excised from their families like a tumor.
No more.
She took care of herself now.
“Swords, mesdames?” Everard asked. He gestured between himself and Dominus. “We have promised to be your escort.”
Eleanor spoke to the young knight. “I asked them to come armed with light weaponry. Enemies come in many shapes. The Turks, with their turbans and curved swords, are easy to identify. Others are not.”
Betrayal was part of the royal court, as they’d been reminded during their sojourn through Constantinople. The Emperor had spoken both lies and the truth eloquently.
Mamie stifled a shiver at their narrow escape. “Is that beautiful golden horse for me?”
“If you like. I found a white mare for the queen,” Dominus said. “I remember it being her favorite.” Mamie nodded. White had been all she’d ridden during the pilgrimage, until the last one died in Laodicea.
Pleased, Eleanor allowed Fay to help. Fay then accepted the reins of a light chestnut. “Much better than the rolling deck of the ship for travel.”
“We will sail back from Jerusalem,” Eleanor cautioned. “Do not foreswear the ocean just yet.”
Mamie stroked her mare’s thick mane, scratching behind her ear. Gorgeous brown eyes blinked at her, one dame admiring another as she whisked her tail back and forth. “I love her,” Mamie declared. “What is her name?”
“Bahi,” Dominus answered. “It means beautiful.”
“She knows it, too.” Mamie laughed, leading Bahi to a foot-high mounting stool so she could swing her leg up and over the horse’s back.
She cantered next to Eleanor and turned toward the other guard.
Dominus had grown accustomed to the queen’s guard riding in split skirts. Everard said nothing, though his eyes widened as Fay opted against the stool and vaulted atop her horse with no aid, merely putting her hand on his mane and settling astride. She grinned. “Can we race? I feel as if I’ve been confined and now”—she stretched an arm to the side and lifted her face to the sun—“finally free.”
“Free? Yes. But to race down the road to Daphne?”
Mamie turned toward the man’s voice, recognizing Bartholomew. He rode a dark brown horse similar in look and style to Everard’s and Dominus’s.
“The road was paved by the Romans a thousand years ago. There are holes a horse might snap an ankle on.”
Fay sobered. “I would not dream of hurting an animal.”
“A kind woman.” The Templar wore his crisp white tunic with the red cross, as did the other two knights, but Bartholomew also carried a somber attitude, one hardly conducive to having fun.
Mamie was surprised when he said, “I would like to join you. I would gladly serve as a guide on our way to the grove.”
“Of course! What a wonderful idea,” Eleanor said, bestowing her mo
st gracious smile upon him.
Wondering why the commander of Antioch had joined a party of women, Mamie determined to keep extra vigilant. Did he watch over them, or was he afraid for the souls of his men? Both were honorable, without the commander threatening hellfire.
“Follow me,” he said and led them down the steep path of Mount Silipius. Bartholomew was a good guide, discussing points of interest without taking over the conversation.
“Daphne was where the affluent Greeks came to rest and enjoy their leisure. Its natural beauty invited the pleasure seekers, and of course, there was a temple built to Apollo, as we spoke of last night.”
“I hear your disapproval.” Mamie would not let the man bring gray skies to what had been planned a pleasant day.
He looked at her and shook his head. “It is not my place to disapprove. I am offering the opinion that the old ways are gone, for good reason. Society without morals or religious structure cannot thrive, which is what happened then and what we guard against now.”
Mamie thought about that for a while, not sure she agreed. Dominus said little, acting more formal than he had before the commander’s arrival. They left Antioch by a side gate. There were a few others walking, but the road was mostly deserted. Giant stones paved the way.
“To build something as grand,” Everard said, “that survived over a millennia. The Romans had great architectural abilities.”
“We saw that in the bath house. It makes one feel insignificant,” Fay said.
“Speak for yourself, Cuz,” the queen said with a toss of her hair. “I felt right at home.”
Mamie laughed and glanced at Dominus, noting his brief smile. What would it be like to be the recipient of his goodwill? Sweet Mary, she dreamed of the man and what his mouth might feel like capturing hers in passion—he could keep his goodwill for a kiss such as that.
Bahi, imitating Queen Eleanor, tossed her mane as well.
“Turn here,” Bartholomew said. “Follow this trail to the left. It winds a bit, but go slow. The horses will be fine.”
Oak, olive, and laurel trees provided a garden of shade against the strong Mediterranean sun. Mamie sighed as they went farther into the fecund grove, with green moss and blooming flowers everywhere. The sun peeked through the trees. Before long she heard the sound of rushing water.
