When they had set out everything had been so wonderfully different. The sea had been a calm endless sheet of azure and the sky clear and cloudless. The three massive dromons had embarked first, the fleet of some two hundred-odd vessels following on behind, looking to her like a great flock of white-winged birds. The dromons carried most of the king’s precious possessions: his betrothed, his sister and a fair portion of the royal treasury along with the king’s vice chancellor. The other vessels carried the knights, men-at-arms, horses and all the necessary equipments of warfare including, so Stephen had told her, massive deconstructed catapults, which would be used, when they arrived, to batter the walls of Acre.
At first their voyage, which was expected to take between 14 and 21 days, had proceeded smoothly. Berengaria had been quite happy and had even insisted on arranging a special mass for all the occupants of the ship on Good Friday. While they were worshipping, the wind had dropped and the entire fleet had become becalmed, but it had been the prequel to something far worse.
The sky had turned black and threatening and the sea had become a seething mass of ugly green waves, then the torrential rain and the blustering winds had started. Edwina could only guess at how terrible the conditions were on deck as the captain and crew battled to keep this vessel afloat.
Suddenly, she felt a. blast of icy damp air and she realised that the hatch had opened and someone was climbing down the steps. At first she could see only the lower half of his body but, judging by the black clothing, it was one of the Hospitaller knights. She heard him slam the hatch shut and saw him jump lithely down the last few steps. Yet she couldn’t quite make out his features in the dim light. Most of the lamps in the narrow corridor had been blown out in the ferocity of the storm and only a couple were left burning.
‘My lady,’ the Hospitaller said worriedly as he strode towards her, seeming untroubled by the uncontrolled movements of the ship, which did not make walking along the corridor at all easy. ‘You should not be outside your cabin, it is not safe.’
‘I just came out here for a breath of fresh air.’
He was young and quite good-looking, she couldn’t help noticing, as he stopped and looked down at her. ‘Martin of Edessa at your service, my lady,’ he said, inclining his head politely. ‘You are the lady de Moreville, are you not?’
‘I am, sir,’ she said, feeling a little uncomfortable as he stepped even closer and placed his hands on the wall either side of her to protect her as the ship pitched violently again. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself falling forwards and found herself pressed rather inelegantly against his hard muscular chest. ‘Forgive me,’ she muttered awkwardly.
Edwina felt remarkably safe for a moment as the violent movements of the ship forced her to remain where she was, pressed close against his hard unyielding form. She inhaled the pleasant spicy aroma that perfumed his long black tunic, which had the white Hospitaller cross on its front.
‘And forgive my bold behaviour,’ Martin said softly against her blonde hair, which she realised uneasily was not even modestly covered by a veil at present.
‘Protecting a lady from falling is not bold, it is kindness itself,’ she said rather bashfully, as to her relief she was at last able to pull herself back against the cold damp wood of the corridor wall. ‘I had hoped that the storm might be abating.’
‘I fear not,’ he said with a troubled frown. ‘To be sure it appears a little less violent at present. The captain tells me it is because we have reached the centre of the storm. Sometimes the winds and stormy waters abate for a short while before they resume their ferocity again.’
‘And will we survive?’ She at last allowed the apprehension she felt to surface for a moment. Now that she was away from the princess, she didn’t have to appear quite so brave and steadfast in this time of adversity.
‘I am certain that we will, my lady. God will protect us,’ he said confidently. ‘I have endured storms as bad as this before. How fares Princess Berengaria?’
‘She has been violently ill; she is not a good sailor.’
‘I feared that might be the case,’ he said softly, as the ship pitched violently once more and Edwina found herself pressed against his chest again. Martin’s cloak was held away from her by his braced arms, but she could see that it was soaking wet.
‘You should change your cloak, Martin of Edessa, or you will catch your death,’ she said as she managed to force herself back against the wall.
‘I am a soldier. I have endured far worse, my lady. My only concern is for your welfare.’
‘And your concern is most heartening,’ she said.
He removed one hand from its place beside her and reached into the leather bag at his waist. ‘Here, I have brought this for you and the other ladies.’ He handed her a small packet wrapped in oiled parchment.
As Edwina took it from him, the floor of corridor tilted wildly and Martin clamped his strong arm beside her again. ‘What is it?’ she asked as she was jerked forwards again and her face was pressed to his chest. She was so close she could feel the heat of his body and hear his regular, comforting heartbeat.
‘One of the Hospitallers, who served for some time at our large hospice in Acre, suggested this remedy. He was aware that the princess and her attendants had little experience of weather such as this. He tells me that it helps with all kinds of sickness and he has added some ground poppy seeds to allow her to rest easy for a while. No doubt she is exhausted and needs to sleep.’
‘As do we all,’ Edwina agreed, craning her neck to look up at his rather strained features. ‘How much do I give her?’
‘The packet contains at least five strong doses so I am told. I am sure you can measure that out. Perhaps you could take some yourself?’
By now the embarrassment she had initially felt had all but ceased. Even though she did not know him at all, she was finding the experience of his strong arms around her at this perilous time strangely comforting. ‘I will give it to the ladies-in-waiting as well. But I will not take any as fortunately I do not suffer from seasickness and at least one of us needs to remain on our feet.’ She gave a soft embarrassed laugh as the ship tilted again and she was pressed even harder against his chest. ‘If I can manage to do so, of course.’
‘No doubt you will. From what I have heard you are an enterprising lady. The Comte de Chalais speaks very well of you and he requested that I do all I can to help you, if and when the need arises.’
‘You are a friend of Stephen’s?’
‘I have that honour,’ he replied.
‘Then I am indebted to you, Martin.’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘I really should be returning to the princess, she will get concerned if I leave her alone for too long. Yet I had hoped first to ensure that her maidservants were safe.’
‘They are,’ he reassured her. ‘I came to tell you that unfortunately one of them slipped and fell while trying to reach the princess’s cabin. She is not badly hurt. Her companion and the Hospitaller who provided the remedy are looking after her. Yet I fear that it has left you with the responsibility of caring for the princess alone.’
‘It keeps me occupied, and takes my mind off the storm,’ she replied. ‘I will survive. After all I have survived far worse,’ she added, thinking of her life with Hugh. ‘Now I must return to the cabin.’
‘So you shall.’ He stepped back a pace and took a firm hold on her arm. ‘I will escort you there myself.’
Stephen looked around the deck of the royal galley. The crew were all busy repairing the minor damage done by the violent storm. They, like many of the other vessels, had survived virtually unscathed but the fleet had been scattered in all directions. However, such a likelihood had been accounted for and a meeting place had been arranged here, off the island of Rhodes. Now there were at least sixty vessels anchored close to the rocky shoreline of this small island.
Ships were arriving hourly and no doubt more vessels would soon be joining them. Nevertheless, what concerned Stephen most of a
ll were the three missing dromons. None of the other captains had spotted the massive Byzantine vessels, so they could not be anywhere in this vicinity. Either they had been blown far off course or they had been wrecked in the storm and the last eventuality was one Stephen didn’t even wish to contemplate.
Stephen sighed. A page had come to him a few moments ago, carrying orders from Richard to meet him in the king’s cabin and give him a report on the current situation. He just wished that he had better news for his friend as he climbed down the steps that led to the lower deck where Richard’s large stateroom was situated.
He didn’t bother to knock as the king was expecting him; he just opened the door and stepped into the spacious well-appointed cabin. He saw Richard immediately, sitting behind a large table, which was piled high with documents and maps. However, he looked a little strange as his face was red, his eyes bulging and his skin was beaded in sweat.
‘Are you unwell, Your Majesty,’ he asked with concern.
Richard didn’t reply, he just raised his hand to stop Stephen approaching as his eyes glazed over and he gave a loud groan followed by a grunt of what sounded to Stephen like pleasure.
Two spots of bright scarlet formed on Stephen’s cheeks. Richard appeared to have just experienced an orgasm and he didn’t quite know what to do. Should he leave or should he stay? In his indecision he just remained where he was, awkwardly rooted to the spot.
‘Of course I am not unwell,’ Richard said curtly. ‘I am fully recovered from my seasickness now.’
‘I can see that,’ Stephen said awkwardly. ‘Forgive me, sire. I came at an inopportune moment. I’ll leave.’ He began to back towards the door.
‘Christ in heaven, Stephen,’ Richard exclaimed. ‘It is too late for such prissy behaviour now.’ He reached down to adjust his clothing. ‘You have seen it all before at the brothel in Messina.’
At that moment, to Stephen’s amazement, he saw the dancer from that very brothel move out from beneath the table and rise gracefully to her feet. What was she doing here? The dancer didn’t appear troubled in the slightest by his presence at such an intimate moment between her and the king, which perhaps was not surprising: after all she was a whore.
Casting an insolent smile at Stephen, she turned and sauntered towards Richard’s wide bed. She was dressed very indecorously in a long filmy garment, which was near translucent. Through the thin fabric he had caught sight of her erect, rouged nipples and her inky-black triangle of pubic hair, before she turned away from him.
‘I was not aware.’ He cleared his throat nervously as he watched the girl sit cross-legged on the feather mattress and stare thoughtfully at the king with her dark kohl-ringed eyes.
‘Of course you were not. Armand arranged it.’ Richard grinned. ‘To keep me company on the voyage. Perhaps it might have been wiser to acquaint you of her presence as you are the only person who has unprecedented access to my private quarters.’
‘It might well have been wiser. Then, if needs be, I could have helped you conceal this . . . er . . . lady’s presence from everyone else onboard ship.’
Stephen thought that Richard had acted most foolishly, without any consideration for the consequences of such actions. There were both Templars and clergy on this vessel, including the grand master of the Templars, Robert de Sable, and the Bishop of Evreux. He knew that such religious men would disapprove highly of Richard bringing a whore onboard, even more so because he was now betrothed.
‘Leila tired of Sicily and she has a mind to travel to Tyre. She has kin in the city.’
‘No doubt she does, sire,’ Stephen acknowledged as he stepped closer to Richard, who was relaxing back in his chair appearing quite unconcerned. ‘In the circumstances might it not have been wiser to allow Leila passage on another vessel?’
‘Indeed it would have.’ Richard grinned wickedly. ‘But then I would not have been able to avail myself of her exceptional talents.’
‘Yet if the grand master or the bishop learnt of her presence . . .?’
‘You know full well that their piety irritates me at times,’ Richard confessed with a shrug of his wide shoulders. ‘They have both sworn a vow of chastity, so what do they know of such intimate matters? I have always thought it foolish to set aside the pleasures of life. They should not even think to criticise me, after all I was one of the first princes to take up the cross after Jerusalem was captured by Salah ad-Din.’
‘I know that, sire.’
‘Then do not lecture me on this matter.’ Richard glanced back at Leila and smiled indulgently at her.
She returned his smile, lasciviously licking her scarlet lips, as she provocatively stroked her nipples and pressed her hand against her groin. ‘I am waiting, lord,’ she said in heavily accented French.
‘I have no intention of presuming to lecture you, sire,’ Stephen replied patiently. He found Richard’s sometimes thoughtless behaviour incredibly frustrating. ‘I can report later on the status of the fleet, if you so wish?’
‘No. Tell me now. Did we lose any ships?’
‘At least one galley is known to have been lost. One of the captains saw the vessel sinking off Crete. While the dromons . . .’ Stephen paused and cleared his throat once again. ‘There has been no sign of them as yet.’
Richard clasped his hands together. ‘That gives you cause for concern? I was assured that they could endure the worst of weathers. That is why I chose to send Berengaria in one of those vessels.’
‘No ship is unsinkable,’ Stephen replied uneasily.
‘I am certain that Berengaria and my sister Joanna are safe.’ Richard looked knowingly at Stephen. ‘As no doubt is Lady de Moreville. You have been discreet, my friend. But I am well aware that she is now your mistress. Would it not be wiser in the circumstances for you to refrain from judging my behaviour?’
‘I have no wish to judge you,’ Stephen replied. ‘I am just asking you to be discreet also. Most noblemen on this vessel are not as open-minded as you and I.’
‘Quite so.’ Richard tapped his fingers on the table top. ‘Have you sent out galleys to search for the dromons?’
‘I have, sire.’
‘Then, unfortunately, my friend, all we can do is wait.’
Edwina heard the bottom of the longboat grate against the sand, whereupon most of the occupants, including Martin, jumped out and dragged it closer to the shore.
‘My lady.’ Ankle deep in water, Martin held his hand out to Berengaria. ‘Allow me.’
She stood up rather gracelessly and looked down at the water swirling around his boots. ‘I have no wish to get my feet wet,’ she said regally.
‘In that case, you will have to forgive my presumption.’ Reaching forwards, Martin swung her into his arms and carried her out of the water and up the beach. Gently, he deposited her on the golden sands.
Edwina had no desire to be carried as she knew that she was perfectly capable of wading through the water herself. Slipping off her soft leather shoes, she held them in her hand, and stepped cautiously down into the sea, keeping her skirts lifted so they didn’t get too wet. It was quite pleasant to feel the water lapping at her ankles and she wished she had thought to pull off her hose as well as she waded forwards until she reached dry land.
They had arrived off the island of Cyprus yesterday and, as they were running a little low on water, Martin had decided to bring a longboat to shore. Against Martin’s advice, Berengaria had stubbornly insisted that she and Edwina accompany him. According to Martin, the Byzantine emperor of the island, Isaac Comenius, was no friend of the Franks, and landing might not be altogether safe. However, this place looked deserted, Edwina thought, as she walked up the beach to join Berengaria who was perched on a large rock half buried in the sand.
‘Your stockings are soaked,’ Berengaria said reprovingly.
‘So they are.’ Edwina plonked herself down next to the princess and began to discreetly roll down her hose. Removing the wet woollen stockings, she rolled them into a
ball and dug her damp toes into the surprisingly warm golden sand. ‘Have you never taken off your shoes and walked barefoot outside, my lady?’
‘Of course not.’ Berengaria frowned rather disapprovingly at the sight of Edwina’s bare ankles and feet. ‘It is not seemly.’
Further down the beach, Martin was busy organising the men. Yesterday, the lookout had spotted wreckage close to the rocks of Aphrodite and Martin feared it might be one of the other dromons. Edwina saw one small group set off, walking south along the shoreline, so presumably they were going to try to locate the wreck and find out if there were any survivors. The rest of the men were lifting empty casks from the boat and carrying them up to the rear of the beach in the hope of finding a supply of fresh water close by.
Eventually, Martin walked over to them. ‘Princess,’ he acknowledged, his expression becoming a little more serious, ‘I am leaving a couple of men to guard the boat and to ensure your safety. This area appears very quiet even though we are only a short distance from Limassol. With luck no one should discover we are here.’
‘But I wish to go into town,’ Berengaria said haughtily, ‘and seek lodgings there. I need a short respite from that dreadfully cramped cabin and my seasickness.’
‘That would not be wise, Majesty, as I told you before,’ Martin said politely, but Edwina could sense he was frustrated as he’d discussed this with the princess already. ‘However, if you insist I will have to find some form of transport, unless you wish to walk the few miles to Limassol, my lady.’
‘Walk!’ Berengaria exclaimed in horror. ‘Princesses do not walk.’
‘Of course they do not,’ Martin agreed. ‘Once we have located a supply of fresh water, I will endeavour to find something.’ He paused and looked penetratingly at the princess. ‘You are still determined to go ahead with this foolishness, my lady?’
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