Templar Prize

by Deanna Ashford

  ‘It was a military decision. I would not think to question that.’

  ‘Military.’ Isaac clasped his hands together and leant forwards intently. ‘Such decisions include bringing together the necessary equipment and money to pay for his vast army. He will have a little less of both now, it appears. Are you aware, Princess, that one of the king’s dromons was wrecked on the rocks of Aphrodite?’

  Berengaria nodded sadly. ‘That is partly why my men came ashore, to send out a search party to look for survivors.’

  ‘There were none. We have not even had any bodies from the wreck washed ashore as yet.’ He relaxed back in his chair. ‘It was a pity there were no survivors of the tragedy. Word has just come to me that another of your vessels was also sunk. One of my ships spotted the wreckage of a dromon further south.’

  Berengaria tensed and glanced worriedly at Edwina for a moment. ‘I was not aware of that.’

  ‘You were lucky to survive the storm, were you not?’ Isaac said with a smirking grin. ‘Perhaps God is on your side, Princess, even if he was not on the side of the occupants of the other vessels.’

  ‘I would not presume to questions his motives for saving us, I am just thankful that he did.’ Berengaria’s hands automatically reached for the rosary she usually wore around her neck, which was of course not there. The gift from Richard was worth much and Edwina was relieved that the princess had been wise enough to leave it onboard ship. Otherwise, no doubt, if she had brought it with her, the emperor would have taken it from her. Edwina wondered about Isaac’s motives; perhaps he thought that he could force a ransom out of King Richard to free his betrothed.

  ‘As I am grateful too, noble lady.’ Isaac stood up. ‘Now, I am afraid I must leave you. I have many matters of state to attend to,’ he said brusquely.

  ‘One moment,’ Berengaria said in a very regal manner. ‘The men who brought me to shore, you hold them captive, I think.’

  ‘They were indeed captives for a short while,’ he conceded, ‘but they have all been sent back to the dromon. They carried a message to the captain telling him that you have decided to avail yourself of my hospitality.’

  ‘Oh, Edwina,’ Berengaria gasped, her naked, perspiration-covered body trembling violently as she reached a climax. Rolling over, she pressed herself against Edwina, breasts to breasts, stomach to stomach. Their soft forms melded together as her lips sought Edwina’s. They kissed with a passionate ferocity, which belied the more restrained relationship that existed between them during the hours of daylight.

  Darkness somehow changed them into far more sensual creatures, with little or no inhibitions. They had been here for almost a week and there was no modest reluctance between them now as Edwina continued teaching the princess all she knew about lovemaking. They both still spoke of their encounters as lessons but deep down they knew it was far more than that: a relationship that defied all they knew and travelled beyond the boundaries of accepted relationships, venturing into territories that neither of them knew let alone understood.

  Berengaria, the formerly modest pious princess, had surpassed all expectations, revealing a passionately sensual creature trapped beneath the outwardly innocent, highly moral exterior. It was a combination that Edwina thought would fascinate most men, as she returned Berengaria’s kiss with equal enthusiasm.

  As Berengaria pulled away, she said breathlessly, ‘When we return to our former existence, I do not think that we should think of, let alone tell anyone about this.’

  ‘I would never speak of it to anyone,’ Edwina replied as they lay side by side, letting the night breeze, which was blowing in through the open window, cool their weary sex-satiated flesh.

  ‘So you will not even tell Stephen?’

  ‘I think not.’

  ‘Do you think that Richard might wonder on our wedding night where I acquired such skills?’

  ‘From what I know of men, he will not think to question it. He will just be thankful that he has wed a woman who enjoys sex. Nevertheless, perhaps it might be wise to appear a little less skilled when he first takes your maidenhead,’ Edwina said, having always been careful during their sensual encounters that the proof of Berengaria’s virginity should remain intact; it had not appeared to blunt her pleasure by doing so.

  ‘This cannot continue when we return to our former lives.’ Berengaria sounded sad. ‘So we must enjoy this while we can.’ Berengaria’s hand fluttered over Edwina’s stomach, trailing down to the golden mons.

  Edwina was so tempted to part her legs as the tantalising fingers slipped between her thighs. ‘We cannot,’ she said as she reluctantly pulled away. ‘It is time for me to see what I can find out.’

  ‘You will be careful?’ Berengaria said with concern as she sat up and watched Edwina slide from the bed.

  ‘Of course I will.’ Edwina rummaged beneath the bed and pulled out a plain blue dress which she had stolen from a linen press. Dressed like all the other maidservants she could hopefully creep around the castle unhindered. She slipped her feet into soft leather slippers. ‘I won’t be long,’ she promised as she hurried out of the door, then pulled it shut behind her.

  The long passageway was dark, lit only by a couple of flickering lamps at the far end. Thankfully, there appeared to be no guards on duty. Edwina knew the layout of the castle well as she and Berengaria had walked around it often. During their imprisonment they’d had little to occupy their minds; nothing to read, no needlework to keep them busy, so she and Berengaria had talked endlessly. Three times in all they had been allowed outside in the gardens but only with an omnipresent escort of three sullen-faced soldiers.

  Despite Isaac’s claim to the contrary, Edwina wanted to find out if he was still holding the men who’d arrived with them on the longboat prisoner. At first, under Berengaria’s persuasion, she had done nothing, as the princess was convinced that one day soon Richard’s war galley would sail majestically into the harbour to rescue them. But as the days passed, Edwina had decided to take matters into her own hands.

  Taking a deep breath, she hurried along the corridor and almost ran down the wide stone staircase. All was silent but, as she got closer to the Great Hall, she heard shouts and sounds of laughter coming from within. She had hoped that everyone would have retired by now but presumably Isaac dined late and he and his friends were still feasting.

  She had been prompted into action tonight because of what Berengaria had seen yesterday when she had insisted on an audience with the emperor in order to complain about being denied access to the chapel. When Berengaria had entered Isaac’s private chamber, she had noticed Richard’s royal seal, which usually hung around the neck of the king’s vice chancellor, lying on the table, before he had swiftly concealed it. The vice chancellor had been a passenger on the wrecked dromon but Isaac claimed that there had been no survivors and no bodies recovered so how, Berengaria had wondered, had he got his hands on such a precious item?

  Following the corridor that led past the Great Hall, Edwina made her way towards the kitchens. There was no sign of any guards so hopefully they were more intent on filling their stomachs than taking account of the movements of a maidservant. She entered one of the storerooms and picked up a pitcher of wine, which had been left with a number of others on a tray ready to be carried into the hall. Then she helped herself to a loaf of bread, which was still warm from the oven.

  The delicious odour made her feel a little hungry herself as she slipped out of a door at the side of the keep. The bailey was eerily quiet at this time of the night, apart from the distant barking of a couple of the emperor’s hounds. Edwina hurried down the steps that she was certain led to the dungeons. To her surprise, the passageway was not cold and dank but dry and reasonably warm, appearing to have been carved out of the rock on which the castle was built. Lamps lit the gloomy interior at fairly regular intervals and she turned a corner, expecting to be challenged by a guard, but fortune had smiled upon her and he was fast asleep, sitting on a chair in front of a sma
ll table, his head lolled forwards, snoring loudly.

  Putting the bread and wine on the table, because it had supposedly been for the guards and her excuse for coming here, she tiptoed past the sleeping man. There were a number of cells with heavily barred doors but they were all open so they must be devoid of prisoners. Further on were different cells that had been carved out of solid rock, with barred fronts that looked more like cages. She thought they might have once housed animals because there was a distinctly feral musky smell in the air.

  The first couple of cages contained a number of scruffy-looking men who looked to her as though they might be Frankish sailors. Most were fast asleep, lying on the skimpy piles of straw that served as their beds. However, the next cage did contain men she recognised: the sailors who had been captured on the beach and four of the men who had crewed the longboat. A couple of them opened their eyes wearily as she walked past but clearly they did not recognise her dressed as a maidservant.

  Where was Martin? Had he been captured as well? She found the answer in the last cage and she was overcome with anguished concern when she saw him lying motionless on the cell floor, chained hand and foot, clad only in a tattered pair of breeches. His back was criss-crossed with angry red weals, which could only be the result of a whipping, and what she could see of his face and arms was bloodied and bruised.

  At first she thought him dead but relief flooded through her as she realised that he was still breathing. Not sure if he was conscious, she pressed her face to the bars. ‘Martin,’ she called in a low voice. He didn’t respond so she tried again, this time a little louder. ‘Martin, it is me, Edwina.’

  The sound of her name seemed to rouse him a little and he opened his swollen lids and painfully turned his head towards her. ‘Edwina,’ he gasped between cracked lips, his voice so faint she could barely hear him.

  ‘Martin.’ Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘Speak to me, please,’ she begged.

  ‘Edwina,’ he managed to mumble. ‘I am all right.’

  His chains rattled as he struggled to his knees and crawled painfully towards her. Eventually, he collapsed limply against his side of the bars and she realised that his wounds were crusted over and were most likely a couple of days old, while the bruises were darkening and turning more yellowish in colour.

  ‘What did they do to you?’ Falling to her knees, she reached for him through the bars.

  ‘It was my fault. I tried to escape,’ he said in a strained voice, as he attempted a wry lopsided grin. ‘Previous to that they hadn’t really harmed me but after my failed attempt they whipped me as a warning to the others.’

  ‘But what about all the cuts and bruises, the swelling?’ she asked, gently touching his abused cheek. ‘Did they beat you as well?’

  ‘No.’ He tried to laugh but it came out more like a painful cough. ‘In my eagerness to escape, I did not take account of the fact that half the garrison would try to stop me. They were rather overzealous when they caught me.’ He winced as he struggled into a more comfortable position.

  ‘We were told that you had all been sent back to the ship.’

  ‘Are you surprised they lied?’ He ran his tongue over his cracked lips. ‘No doubt they also lied to you about the survivors from the wrecked dromon. They are in the first cells. They told me that the vice chancellor was still alive when they reached the shore, but he is not here now so I can only presume he is dead.’

  ‘The emperor has King Richard’s royal seal; Berengaria saw it.’

  ‘The bastard,’ he faltered. ‘Forgive my use of such a word, my lady.’

  ‘Martin,’ she said softly, wishing she could get inside the cell and tend his wounds. ‘In your present state, I’d forgive you anything.’

  ‘Regretfully, I fear I do not have the capability,’ he said with a teasing, still crooked grin. ‘Do you have any water?’ He awkwardly licked his dry lips again. ‘I am parched and they are rather remiss in providing even the basic needs of life in here.’

  ‘I can do better than water.’

  Rising to her feet, she hurried back to the guard, praying that he was still asleep. Fortunately he was, so she grabbed the bread and wine and carried it back to Martin. ‘Here.’ She knelt and passed the jug through the bars but she had to break the loaf in half to squeeze that through as well.

  The delicious scent of fresh bread filled the air and she was afraid that his fellow prisoners would wake and demand their share. ‘It is little enough. I would have brought more if I had known. Once you have eaten and drunk you can share the rest, but do not deny yourself as you need to keep up your strength.’

  6

  Feeling very upset about Martin’s terrible condition, Edwina made her way back into the castle, knowing that she had to find a way to somehow help him. As she moved along the passageway, she could still hear sounds of revelry coming from the Great Hall, but it was not far to the stairs now and the safety of her room. Suddenly, the noise from inside grew louder as a door was flung open and she shrank nervously back into the shadows. Isaac stepped into the corridor only a few feet in front of her and she held her breath, fearful she would be discovered, but fortunately for her he seemed too deep in thought to notice anything as he walked into his private suite of chambers.

  She gave a faint sigh of relief as the door to the Great Hall was slammed shut, blocking out the noise again. Anxiously, her heart beating far too loudly in her chest, she went to creep past the door of Isaac’s room. It was then that she realised he had left it slightly ajar. Curiosity made her ignore caution for a moment, so she tiptoed forwards and peered through the crack.

  Isaac was not alone, he had visitors – two dark, heavily bearded men in Saracen robes. Edwina stiffened anxiously; she was very aware of how important this discovery might be as she heard the emperor greet them. ‘Salamou alaikum,’ he said.

  ‘Wa alaikum el salam,’ they replied.

  It appeared likely to Edwina that Isaac was indeed in league with Salah ad-Din, or was at least considering the notion. Why else would two Saracens be here? Stephen had been teaching her Arabic and she knew a fair number of words and phrases, so she listened intently to what was being said, rather surprised that Isaac seemed able to speak the language so fluently. She heard Salah ad-Din mentioned as well as Richard and the city of Acre. There were other words she recognised, which all led her to the conclusion that they were perhaps discussing using Cyprus as a Saracen base. Whatever this all meant she knew that it might have serious repercussions for the Christian cause.

  Scared that she might be spotted if she lingered here much longer, Edwina crept past the door and hurried towards the stairs, wishing that she had understood more of the conversation. Maybe in the circumstances she wasn’t paying full attention to her own safety because, before she even realised there was someone creeping up behind her, she felt a hand grab hold of her arm. She was swung violently around to face the captain who had discovered her and Berengaria on the beach.

  ‘What are you doing spying on your master?’ His expression changed from anger to surprise. ‘Lady de Moreville, dressed like a servant!’ he exclaimed. ‘Why should that be?’

  ‘My mistress was hungry,’ Edwina lied. ‘She bade me find her something to eat. They take our clothes away at night so I was forced to steal this from one of the maids.’

  ‘Not bad, I might well have believed you,’ he said with a cynical smile as he tightened his hold on her. ‘If I hadn’t seen you spying on the emperor and his guests.’

  ‘Me spying?’ she said innocently. ‘I have no idea what you mean.’

  ‘I stood here and watched you, my lady,’ he said, his fingers digging cruelly into her arm. ‘You seemed mightily interested in the conversation.’

  ‘I did not,’ she countered. ‘I do not happen to speak Arabic.’

  ‘If you were not interested, then how did you know what language they were speaking?’

  ‘I just presumed it was Arabic as it sounded so different from other languages I’ve
heard.’ Summoning all her strength, she glared at him boldly. ‘Now unhand me.’

  ‘Not until you tell me why you were spying on the emperor.’

  ‘I just happened to pass his room and couldn’t help noticing that his guests were Saracens. At least they looked like Saracens, although to be truthful I have never actually laid eyes on one before.’

  ‘You are a guest here, my lady. You should not spy on your host and abuse his hospitality.’

  ‘Hospitality,’ she repeated with derision. ‘The princess and I are under no illusions, we are prisoners here.’

  ‘Prisoners? What a foolish notion,’ he growled.

  ‘We are watched constantly, never allowed to go outside unescorted.’

  ‘Purely all for your own safety.’

  ‘How safe are we when you take our clothes away at night so that we cannot leave our room?’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this.’ His fingers dug like sharp claws into her flesh, making her whimper with pain, as he dragged her along a passage and flung open a narrow door, which led into a small room packed with casks of wine. ‘You can wait in here until I have spoken to the emperor.’ He shoved her inside and slammed the door shut, leaving her alone in total darkness.

  Edwina couldn’t even begin to guess how long she had been sitting on the stone floor, her back supported rather uncomfortably against a cask of wine. It might well have been hours. Not even a glimmer of light seeped into the room and she was now feeling stiff and rather chilly. She had dozed for a while but her thoughts kept returning to what faced her; she had no idea what Isaac would decide to do with her. It was not as if she could tell anyone what she had found out, she reassured herself for the umpteenth time. So he could not think that what she had discovered could harm him in any way.

  Her mind was still going around in troubled circles, when she heard the grating sound of a bolt being pulled back. The door was pushed open and a bright light washed over her. She blinked, realising that it was a beam of sunlight streaming through a window on the other side of the corridor. So it was morning already, she thought uneasily, as she tried to focus on the tall figure standing in front of her.