by Traci E Hall
Mamie’s lip quivered, so she pinched the inside of her forearm until it stopped. “I do not think I should answer any other questions.”
She stood perfectly still as he studied her, looking her over from head to toe.
“I have seen you behave with a lack of morals and utter abandon.”
He was hurt and wanted to strike out at her. Mamie dared not show emotion, despite the stab to the heart. “And your behavior is blameless?” she said, swallowing tears.
“No.” He kept his arms stiffly at his sides. “What does the queen want with the patriarch?”
Mamie held up a hand. “I do not know.” She fought off her stomach’s sickness.
“I no longer trust you,” he said, his shoulders slumped.
“I never said you could. I told you I would do my best.” Mamie sniffed, the salty taste of tears at the back of her throat. “If I must choose between you and the queen, then I will choose the queen. Her safety is paramount. I have sworn an oath of loyalty to her. Understand I mean you no harm. The things you have shared with me, of your heart, they are between us.”
He backed away. “The queen’s safety. What of it?”
“I would die for the queen.”
“And when this is over? This cursed Crusade?” Dominus rubbed the hair growing in at his scalp. “What will you do then? After you’ve given the best of your life.”
Being alone terrified her. Alone, unwanted. Unloved. She had earned the right to choose her path, and she would not dishonor herself by accepting less than her full worth. She tossed her hair. “I have a nice manor near Troyes. A stable full of gorgeous . . . horses. I will manage.”
He straightened so quickly his chin jerked. “I wish I could take it all back. God.” He closed his eyes. “That I hadn’t fallen in love with a woman who would bed a man for information. I went against my better judgment, and for that, I cannot forgive myself.”
“It is better this way.” She blinked rapidly, refusing to cry. “You have your home to return to. Your family.”
“I do not want them. I told you that.”
She did not believe him. A man did not give up a year of his life unless the prize was worth it.
“They need you.”
“I am my own man.” He met her gaze full on.
“Then join me in Troyes.” Since he did not want to bring a jaded woman home to his family, he could come to her.
“To be another stud in your stable? No, thank you.”
Mamie heard the slamming of a heavy door near the palace courtyard and turned to Dominus with a finger to her lips. She gestured for him to follow her through the trees down the trail. They stayed hidden and watched the path.
Patriarch Aimery strode down the paved road, fury etched on his face. His hands, clutched into tight fists, swung at his sides. His red robe and golden mantle swept by them, his breath in angry chuffs like that of a horse run too hard.
She looked at Dominus, whose jaw was tight. He started to pull away, but Mamie cautioned him to wait.
Sure enough, that rat Odo scurried after the patriarch.
Instead of just following the man, Odo called, “Patriarch. Wait, please. Wait.”
The holy overseer of Antioch turned on a heel. Odo was so close behind that they almost bumped into one another.
“What do you want?”
Odo shrank back. “Holy Father.” He reached for the patriarch’s hand. “I would ask what has you so upset. I could not help but hear you leave. Can I be of service?”
“You have done plenty already. I know who you are, Odo de Deuil. You have been entrusted with the king’s faith, and instead you have led the queen down a road of matrimonial misery. I have been in contact with Bishop Clairvaux, and I swear upon your soul that if he and Eleanor do not get to Jerusalem together, you will never see the gates of heaven! Thierry and you have twisted a joyous union, and I will not have it.”
Odo’s jaw dropped.
“You,” the patriarch said, poking Odo’s chest, “get back in that palace and make sure the king and queen are happy.”
“But,” Odo said, “I, she—”
Patriarch Aimery of Limoges raised his head, and from behind the trees Mamie felt the power of his oration. “God bless the union of King Louis and Queen Eleanor. Praise be to God.”
Odo looked ready to slide beneath a rock and die. The patriarch would not let that happen. Mamie watched as he took the spiritual advisor by a shoulder and kicked his arse toward the palace.
“I will see you—all of you—in Jerusalem.” The patriarch left in a flurry of velvet cloth.
Odo darted toward the palace, tears reddening his eyes.
Mamie did not pity him. After all he’d done to the queen, he deserved an ass kicking.
She turned toward Dominus. “That which is broken cannot be mended. I am certain the bishop was referring to the king and queen.”
Dominus shrugged, refusing to look at her. “It is not my concern.”
“Just because you are angry with me does not excuse your fealty to the Crusade. To the king and queen of the Franks.” Mamie knew the queen needed her, though leaving Dominus in this way would add the final layer between her heart and any lover ever again. No more chances.
“I am loyal to myself.” Without another glance at her, he walked away.
She closed her eyes and absorbed the pain, then rushed to the palace.
“What in the name of Christ was I thinking, allowing myself to trust a woman I witnessed indulging immoral behavior? That she would find love and suddenly be faithful?” He left the olive trees and walked toward the soldier’s training field.
Even in his anger, Dominus stopped himself. He had never witnessed Mamie being unfaithful.
As a woman grown, she had every right to choose her own lovers. If he knew about them, it was because he’d been looking.
Dominus, not in the mood to follow anybody’s damned rules, made his way toward a small pond he’d discovered behind the field. A few pine trees shielded him from view, and he sank to his knees in the shade.
“I’ve gotten so used to praying, it’s my automatic thinking pose. Good Lord.” He knew he had to think of the future, whether he wanted to or not. He had not declared himself his own man all those years ago to fall apart now, but he was beginning to feel as if Jerusalem were a mirage neither he nor the queen would ever see.
“I was hoping to find you here,” Everard said.
Dominus opened his eyes, his shoulders tight. “Are you an apparition? How the hell did you get in here without me noticing?” He looked around, seeing the footprints across the long grass. He had not heard a thing.
Everard, filthy and bloody from his time on the field, grinned and lifted his sword. “Got ya.”
Sighing, Dominus sat back on his haunches and gestured for Everard to do the same. “That you did.”
The younger knight brought a memory of his brother Drake. The boy had loved playing tricks and would do anything for a laugh.
He’d been about to pray for answers but the memory of Drake just brought more questions.
“Why were you looking for me? How did you know about this place?”
“I know a lot of things.” Everard sat down too. “I ask questions.”
Dominus frowned. “I am sorry for chasing you from the room earlier. Tell me.”
“Commander Bartholomew, Count Jocelyn, and Prince Raymond have scheduled our attack on Aleppo. We are to find Nur ad-Din, drag him from his bed, and hang his body from the turret so that all can see how brave we are. Killing innocent women and children will be pardoned, in battle.”
“Don’t go.”
“I have to. I am leading the raid inside the city.”
“Why you?” Dominus did not have a good feeling.
“I volunteered.”
He smacked a palm flat to the ground. “Why?”
“To gain the commander’s trust.”
Dominus leaned forward and stared Everard in the eye. “Why?”
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“You wanted to know. I trust you are doing something bigger than me. From how you talked about owing the bishop, I guess it has something to do with him and Templars. You make a terrible Templar. But an honorable knight, even in the face of the commander’s treachery.”
“You aid me, in possible treason?”
Everard paled. “When you say it like that . . .”
“This is not a game. I am not a spy.” He growled. “I collect information for the bishop and send it to him.”
Brushing his mustache into points, Everard said, “That is spying.”
“No, it’s—” He exhaled. “Shit.” He was no better, really, than Mamie. Not as honorable, even, since she served her mistress with pride and he scurried behind the scenes. “It was a job I accepted from the bishop to pay the loans he held against the keep.”
“Were you sworn in as a Templar?” Everard asked.
“Yes. The bishop took my oath, knowing it was temporary. Told me to do my best.”
“Why you?”
“He knows my family, knows my skill as a warrior. I can read. Write.” He paused. “He was teaching me humility, I think.”
“The commander would appreciate that.” Everard laughed.
“I’ve told you of my fishing village.”
The younger knight nodded.
“It is actually its own independent province.”
Everard left his mustache alone. “Who might you be, then?”
“Dominus Brochard.” He bowed his head, accepting his fate. “The Duke of Byronne.”
“A duke?” Everard rose. “And you were to be penitent and humble for what purpose?”
Dominus stood as well. “I did not want to be a duke’s son. I was not in line for the inheritance. I never wanted it. I wanted to be my own man. I left when I was sixteen, trained as a squire, earned my knighthood, just as you did.”
“I promise you, my family is not noble.” He grinned. “Unless you want to marry one of my sisters?”
“Everard. Be serious.”
“I am! We could be brothers in truth.”
“We will always be brothers. It is unfortunate for me that my heart belongs to a redheaded Jezebel, who will not accept my heart. Her sense of duty is even greater than mine.”
“I doubt that. I assumed you had fallen in love. Not that you had suffered a broken heart.”
“My heart is cracked, not broken. We shall see. She said that love is not enough. She will not even admit to loving me, but I know she does.”
Everard chuckled, rocking back on his booted heels. “That is not what they preach in that garden of love, is it? You might want to remind her of that.”
“She is right, though. Neither of us is free.” He paused, then told Everard about what he and Mamie had seen with the patriarch and Odo. “It is imperative I find written, tangible proof that Bartholomew is acting against the Templars’ best interest.”
“I was thinking about that. The commander is rigid when it comes to the safekeeping of our souls. Which means he always carries his book of prayers.”
Dominus staggered beneath the weight of truth. “Whatever he is planning will be there. I would tell you to go back to your training on the field, but I have a feeling you will do as you please. I am going to church, in search of Bartholomew—and the book.”
“You will need my help.” Everard leaned over the pond and washed the grit from his hands and face.
Dominus made the sign of the cross as they left, having received many answers to his prayers. He was left with more confusion and a broken heart, but he considered this his own human failing.
Everard looked to the sky. “Bells will be ringing soon for our midday meal. He will pray, but he has to eat. His book will be laid aside.”
“I have not been asked to join the brothers for meals.”
“I will get the book and bring it to you.”
“I cannot let you do that.”
“I am a sworn Templar, and my oath to God is pure. I cannot stand by and let a man’s own aims poison that which was meant to be holy.”
Dominus considered his words. “I accept your help, with gratitude. I will be indebted to you.”
“You have this backward! It is I and the Knights Templar who hold the debt, for finding a traitor overcome by his own pride.”
They made their way back to the Templar House. Everard paused outside the gate. “Wait, brother.” He held Dominus’s arm. “Look.”
“Where?”
Everard jerked his head, the tonsure fresh and smooth, to the left.
“God’s bones,” Dominus breathed.
Commander Bartholomew stood near the row of lettuces growing by the wall. Next to him was Jocelyn, Count of Edessa.
“We have to get closer.”
They also recognized the red-faced man wearing the king’s colors of blue and gold.
The eunuch, Thierry, whispered angry words, making his point by pounding a fist into an open palm. “That harlot has spoken to the patriarch. Everything is ruined, and it is all her fault.”
Jocelyn and Bartholomew exchanged a look of understanding. “Calm yourself,” Jocelyn said, glancing around. “We have a plan to take care of the queen.” His gaze landed on Everard. “You there—come here! Do I know you?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Mamie hurried inside, almost colliding with Odo. The rat had waited for her on the bottom stair leading up to the women’s wing.
“I was hoping it would be you, instead of that wench with the soulless eyes.”
Lifting her eating dagger to his jugular, Mamie asked in a sweet voice, “What did you just say, Odo?”
He sputtered and pushed at her hand, but she didn’t release her hold.
“How many times do you need your ass kicked today, Chaplain?”
His face turned the shade of a ripe strawberry, and he started to cough.
Mamie pulled her knife back but kept it in her palm.
“We have a problem,” he began.
“No. You have a problem.”
With visible effort, Odo took a deep breath and started again. “Lady Mamille, I have a favor to ask of you.”
Mamie nodded.
“I would like to speak to the queen. Personally.” He swallowed hard. “This is a matter of great urgency.”
“The king?”
“Just me. Alone.”
Mamie stared at him, watching him squirm. She knew men, however, and for what it was worth, he was being honest. At the moment.
“I will give her your message.”
He waited, shifting. “You know she saw the bishop?”
“Oui.”
“What was it about?”
“It is my great pleasure to not tell you a damn thing.” Mamie passed him by, leaving him on the bottom stair. She’d expected to feel a bit of righteous vindication in facing the snoop and seeing him grovel. She did not.
She opened the door to their chamber.
Fay and Larissa sat on the red-and-yellow trunks, staring at the closed door between the rooms.
“She won’t come out, and she won’t let us in.” Fay looked hurt, then angry. “Where have you been? You and Eleanor left, and I had to play nice with Constance and the other ladies. She’s crying. Throwing and breaking things.”
Mamie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She rapped on the door. “I have a message from Odo.”
The door swung open immediately. The queen looked terrible. Her eyes were puffy, the skin underneath bruised and purple. Her cheeks were chapped and red, and her neck was splotchy.
“Are you ill again? What did you eat? I will push Constance’s head under water until she confesses,” Fay said. She raised a fist.
“I will help.” Larissa got to her feet. “You barely survived the last bout of sickness. Poison!”
“I am not sick. Well, I am sick at heart.” She pulled Mamie inside and shut the door on the other two.
Fay howled in outrage from the opposite side of the door. Mamie
shivered.
The queen said, “I know she is angry. She will be angrier still. What does Odo want?”
“To speak to you. Alone.”
“Why?”
“I saw the patriarch leave. He seemed furious. Odo followed him when he left here and stopped him on the path. He kicked Odo in the rear, literally, and told him to stop interfering with your marriage.”
Eleanor’s eyes welled. “Too little too late.”
“I think he may want to apologize.”
“He is frightened, like Aimery, that I will take my vassals and leave this forsaken Crusade. They need my men. Mine. They remember who I am now that I threaten to go.”
“Did you tell the patriarch about Raymond offering you Edessa?”
“I am not a fool. Of course not.”
A series of loud knocks sounded on the outer chamber door. Mamie heard Fay open it as a servant delivered a royal summons to the Ivy Room.
Fay closed the outer door, and Eleanor opened the inner one. “I heard. A royal summons? Good God.” The queen bowed her head, seeming frail for the first time since Mamie had met her. Then she straightened, her gaze steady.
“Three hours, my queen,” Mamie said, touching Eleanor’s arm.
“Will you meet with Odo?” Fay asked.
“Impertinent monkey! You were listening at the door?”
Fay dismissed the accusation with a shrug. “Of course. It is my job.”
Eleanor swept into her private chamber. “Larissa, bring me my cosmetics. Fay. I will wear my Aquitania crimson and white. A summons? I am the damn queen!” She exhaled. “But I will go. And fight for Edessa with my last breath.”
“What shall I tell Odo?”
“Mamie, tell him that I will grant his request in the morning. I am sure we will each have much to say. In the small courtyard, where I met Louis? After breakfast. I would suggest with breakfast, but I would not put it past the bastard to slip something into my food.” She held her stomach. “If I knew for certain I’d been poisoned, I could point a finger. Until then, I am eating nuts and fruit that I get myself.”
“I will find him,” Mamie promised. She left immediately, leaving Larissa and Fay to transform the woman into Queen Eleanor.
