His face remained taut. “I will heed you, Mother, for I agree.”
Lysias brushed Melisande’s hair back gently, tears glistening in her eyes. As she turned to step through the door Karim Pasa held, they fell along her round cheeks.
“Alone,” repeated Gabriel.
Karim Pasa bowed his head and left, drawing the door closed.
The shaykh ran his fingers along her cheek. How could everything have gone wrong so swiftly? “From the expressions on my mother’s face and on yours, Melisande, I know you have heard about the massacre at Acre.”
“Yes.” She wrapped some of the fabric Karim Pasa had brought around his forehead and tied it into place, trying not to brush the scrapes along his cheek. “But how did you get hurt like this? You could not have been near Acre.”
“Before we could set a trap for the hill bandits, they tried to escape from their hiding place. Someone had alerted them.”
She dabbed more salve on his face. “Who?”
“I don’t know.” He stood and put his hand to his head. It ached as if the tunnel had come crashing down upon it. “We questioned the thieves we captured. They gave us no information.”
“Would they reveal to the caliph—”
He flinched as he had not when the sword had cut into him just outside the mountain pass. That she could speak of the caliph now revealed the depth of her courage. She would need every bit of that courage now.
Taking her hand, he brought her back into her bedchamber. “It is not to speak of the thieves that I sent everyone else away.”
“I know.”
“Those deaths at the walls of Acre are only the beginning.”
She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.
“Salah ed-Din Yusuf has vowed to see the blood of every Franj wash away this horror.”
“But, Gabriel, what of you?” She grasped his hands and gazed up at him, despair stealing the light from her eyes. “Will he order your death?” she questioned wryly. “Or must you spill only half your blood?”
He murmured her name as he brought her mouth to his again. If he could lose himself in the delicate fire of her touch, mayhap he could forget what he must do. Twisting his fingers through her hair, he moaned as her cheek brushed his. Again she drew back too soon. What did a bit of pain matter when all of ecstasy awaited in her arms?
“Gabriel,” she whispered, “you are avoiding giving me an answer.”
Releasing her, he sat in the chair near her bed. The clangor in his head was only growing more violent. “I have proven my worth and loyalty,” he said as she knelt beside him. “However, your vow to the Franj Crusade will mean your death if you do not renounce it.”
Melisande put her hand on Gabriel’s strong forearm. “How can I renounce a vow?”
“You could take another, az-Zahra.”
“Another vow?” Her heartbeat quickened. Lysias had told her that Gabriel looked at her as he had not any other woman. Mayhap he did love her.
She pulled her gaze from his to glance around the room with its soaring arches and tiles. To wed him would mean staying in this strange world forever, cut off from what she had known. To wed him was to accept that he might choose another to marry as well. To wed him was to share the boundless joy she had discovered in his arms.
“I know,” he whispered, “of no other way to save you.”
“Gabriel, if we were to marry—”
“Marry?” He pushed himself to his feet. “Are you mad?”
She recoiled as if he had struck her. “But you spoke of a vow. What other do you mean?”
“I cannot marry you, Melisande.” Drawing her to her feet, he swept her up against his broad chest. “You are right. There will be concern about the Franj blood running through me. To marry a Frankish woman, especially one sworn to the destruction of this land, would mean the deaths of everyone in this stronghold.”
“That is insane!” she gasped. “The women within the harim have no knowledge of what is going on in Acre.”
“But you understand the fury, Melisande.” His face grew more rigid. “You are a warrior’s daughter, and you know the sweet anticipation of defeating your enemies.”
She did. She recalled the grand toasts and drunken revels before her father and brother had left to join the other Crusaders on their journey east, a journey they were sure would lead to the utter defeat of the infidels as they entered Jerusalem. Squaring her shoulders, she asked, “What must I do to keep Lysias and Kalinin from death?”
“Become my ikbal.”
“Ikbal?” She choked and pulled away. What a fool she had been to believe Gabriel might love her!
“It may be your only choice. The caliph has ordered me to kill you.”
“But if he has ordered you to do that and you disobey him—”
“I will deal with the caliph,” he said tightly. “You need only give me your answer, az-Zahra.”
Lifting her chin high, she met his obsidian gaze. “In order to protect those who have protected me, I shall become your ikbal.”
Instead of drawing her into his arms and kissing her until they could push all thoughts of the hatred around them away, he nodded. “I will inform the caliph of this so he may rescind the order for your execution. Karim Pasa will attend to any concerns here within the harim.”
She watched in shock as he walked out of the room. The door to the mabeyin closed resoundingly behind him, reopening the chasm between them that she had thought bridged. She had hurt him. How? She had done as he wished.
Hadn’t she?
FIFTEEN
Melisande had no time to think of her agreement with Gabriel. Within seconds after he left, Karim Pasa entered her rooms.
He bowed to her. “Milady, the shaykh asked me to give you this.”
Her hands were steady as she took the leather package from him and opened it. She gazed down at the golden ear hoops that Gabriel had given her. Wearing these would be an outward sign of her rejection of all that she had been. She touched the fragile gold circles. Gabriel must have learned as a child what she could not ignore any longer. To survive here, one must give oneself totally to this land.
“Karim Pasa,” she said quietly, “I will need your assistance if I am to wear these.”
“I shall gladly offer it.” He glanced toward the shuttered doors. “Lady Lysias asked me to express her desire to speak with you.”
“Of course.” She hated this staid decorum which cut her off from her friends. Was this how her life must be as Gabriel’s ikbal? No, she would not allow that. Rushing to the shuttered doors, she threw them open. “Come in, Lysias.”
Lysias entered, kissing Melisande’s cheek and smiling. “Child, my heart is joyous that you are being honored by being the chosen one of the shaykh instead of slain.”
“Mine also.”
Kalinin peeked past the open door. “May I enter?”
“Please.” Melisande motioned for her to come in. “Gabriel is not here.”
She reached for Melisande’s hands, then drew back. “I did not mean to intrude before.”
“I know. It is forgotten.”
“Thank you, milady.” She bowed.
With a gasp, Melisande caught Kalinin’s shoulders. “I am the same I was an hour ago.”
“No, now you are the ikbal, milady.”
She looked at Lysias, who nodded and said, “Kalinin addresses you as is proper.”
“You never called Falla milady.”
“Falla was never the ikbal,” Karim Pasa said as he spread a cloth across the table and set a pair of small boxes on it.
“But she told me that she was!”
“She took the title, but the shaykh never offered it to her.”
“He told the caliph that—”
“Do not speak of the conversations the shaykh allows you to overhear with others,” he said in his most formal tone. “With the ikbal’s privileges of being at his side wherever he goes comes the obligation to silence.”
She realized what he meant. She must
never speak of anything she chanced to overhear when with Gabriel. Karim Pasa was suggesting that she now would be allowed to go beyond the harim and Gabriel’s rooms. She wondered what else she had agreed to.
Lysias closed the doors and steered Melisande ahead of her to where Karim Pasa stood. Sitting her on a chair by the table, she said, “Heed Karim Pasa’s instructions.”
“What is going on here?” Kalinin asked, curiosity quelling her stiff restraint.
Lysias pointed to the tools Karim Pasa was taking out of the bigger box. “Melisande wishes to have her ears pierced to wear ear hoops the shaykh gave her.”
Melisande watched uneasily as he picked up a needle. He opened the other box. Inside were glowing embers. He stuck the needle in it and waited until it began to glow with the heat. Slowly, he withdrew it and turned toward Melisande. She tensed and heard Kalinin laugh.
“It is not so horrid,” Kalinin said.
“You say that because you do not remember having a needle driven through your ears.”
Karim Pasa chuckled as he pushed her hair aside and grasped her right earlobe. “It will be done before you realize.” His voice grew serious. “Sit very still now.” He pinched her ear. “There.”
Wide-eyed, she watched as he moved to her other side. “You are done?”
Kalinin giggled again. “We told you it would not be so bad. No, do not answer until he is finished.”
As quickly and inflicting as little pain, he pierced her other ear. Lysias bent and threaded the loops through the holes. Stepping back, she nodded her approval.
“Thank you,” Melisande said, wincing at a trickle of pain as she touched the loops.
“My pleasure, milady.” Karim Pasa put his tools back into the box. “As you wished, I will have your bath prepared now.”
She was about to say that she had not requested a bath. Then she realized Karim Pasa’s duties included having the ikbal ready whenever the shaykh wished. Tonight, Gabriel would want her with him.
A thrill exploded through her as she thought of his beguiling caresses. In the midst of this uproar, one thing was unchanging. She loved Gabriel. She must forgive him for breaking her heart, for he had named her his ikbal to save her life.
Lysias smiled and brushed Melisande’s cheek with her fingertips. “It pleases me to see you so happy, child.”
“I am happy.” She smiled when Kalinin laughed at the amazement in her voice.
Lysias glanced at Karim Pasa, then asked, “Kalinin, will you help make certain that Melisande’s bath is perfect?” When the two had left the room, she pulled a chair next to Melisande. “Child, I wish to speak with you without other ears heeding my words.”
“Is something amiss?”
“A question you can answer better than I.” She looked at the door leading to the mabeyin. “You are a Franj, and I know the ways of the Franj are very different from ours. The shaykh’s father often spoke of the ways he had left behind.”
“He did? Gabriel said his father seldom talked to him about his past.”
“The shaykh’s father had heard rumors that the Franj were raising armies to march once more against this land. He knew that his son would face challenges he would have to meet with a heart that was not torn by loyalties to a country he had never seen. What of you, child?”
“My loyalties cannot be changed. I vowed to come here to help heal any Crusaders who suffer.”
“You cannot be loyal to a cause while loving a man who will fight to see it defeated.”
“I must.”
“You are destined to grief, for one side must be destroyed.” She leaned forward and took Melisande’s hand between hers. “Child, listen to the advice of a woman who has lived many more years than you. If you do not choose one or the other, you may lose both.”
“I understand that, but you must understand—”
The door from the garden crashed open. Falla stormed into the room. She started to speak, then froze, staring at Melisande. “What are you doing here? The caliph told me that you were to be killed.”
Lysias smiled coolly. “It appears that the caliph does not tell you everything, Falla.”
“Where did you get those ear loops?” Falla demanded, ignoring the older woman.
“Gabriel gave them to me,” Melisande answered as Lysias came to her feet.
“They should be mine.” Her face twisted with a scowl. “Why should he give you such a fabulous gift?”
“Because,” came a voice from near the bathing room, “Melisande is the shaykh’s ikbal.”
“Kalinin!” Lysias’s frown was as deep as Falla’s. “I thought you were helping Karim Pasa oversee the preparation of Melisande’s bath.”
“I came to ask what fragrance she wishes in the water.”
Falla stamped her foot. “She is not the ikbal. The shaykh told the caliph that I was his ikbal.”
“Child,” Lysias said, giving Melisande a gentle shove toward the bathing room, “your water grows cool. Go. I will speak with Falla.”
“I—”
“Go.”
Melisande nodded and walked away, pretending not to notice Falla’s glare at her back. She saw Kalinin’s smile fade when a spurt of angry Arabic filled the room behind her. She looked at Kalinin, hoping her friend would explain, but Kalinin simply pulled her through the curtains before returning to the other room.
She hesitated. Falla’s fury should not be aimed at her friends.
Before she could move, Karim Pasa came forward and bowed. “Your bath awaits, milady.”
“I should—”
“Lady Lysias has been waiting for the opportunity to remind Falla of her place in the harim.” His smile was as malevolent as Falla’s. “Do not deny her this satisfaction.”
Melisande felt somewhat reassured. Karim Pasa would not leave Lysias with Falla if he were concerned. Hearing a soft giggle, she guessed Kalinin was enjoying the confrontation as well.
Undressing, she slipped into the warm water. She leaned back and stared at the tiled ceiling. The sweet scent of flowers surrounded her. She could not linger in her bath as she imagined Gabriel’s hands reaching out to draw her into his arms and his lips drawing a wandering line of wonder along her skin. She wanted all that and more—but not because he was trying to save her life and his stronghold. She wanted his love.
Lysias was correct. Melisande must choose between being loyal to the duties to her oath and being loyal to the man she loved. Between risking her soul and risking her heart.
Melisande was sitting alone when the door to the mabeyin opened. Slowly she stood. So many thoughts had filled her head as she’d sat here, but all of them vanished as she stared at Gabriel.
She was sure she had never seen him look more handsome, in spite of the white bandaging across his forehead. His robes fell open across his chest to the scarlet sash at his waist. Her fingers quivered with the yearning to touch that firm expanse of skin. When her gaze rose again to meet his eyes, she wondered if she would ever be able to breathe again. The power of his desire was overpowering, swarming around her and through her, drawing her toward him. She faltered on the first step.
He smiled. “Why do you look so uncertain, az-Zahra?” Closing the door behind him, he crossed the room to her in a few smooth steps. “I do not expect you to bow to me.”
“As an ikbal should?”
“An ikbal usually shows her gratitude to her shaykh that way.” He brushed her hair back from her shoulder, sending fire bolting through her. “There are other ways I would rather you showed your gratitude.”
“Gratitude?” She stepped back. “Do you think that I should be grateful that you made me choose between my life and my vows?”
“No.” He grasped her shoulders and tugged her up against him. When her breath burst from her with a soft sigh, he whispered, “I think you should be grateful that we can still share this.”
His lips upon hers urged her to forget everything but this pleasure. This was what she longed for, what she had feare
d she might never know again each time Gabriel rode to battle the hill bandits, what she wanted to delight in for the rest of her life. The caress of his mouth sent her heartbeat thudding like a runaway steed. The teasing touch of his fingertips tingled across her skin. When he lifted his mouth from hers, she sighed with regret.
“This is unexpected,” he murmured.
“This?” Had he guessed her thoughts as he had so often?
He touched one of the earrings lightly. “These look lovely, az-Zahra.”
“Why are you surprised? Karim Pasa brought them with your order that I wear them.”
“But you seldom follow orders.” He laughed as he slipped his arms under her knees and lifted her easily into his arms.
“I thought this was prudent.” She glanced past him to the door. “If the caliph were to see me—”
His hand turned her face back to his. “Do not speak of that now. Use your lips to delight me.”
She brought his mouth down to hers. When his tongue skimmed her lips, she moaned with longing. Leaning forward, he placed her in the lush welcome of her bed. His fingers brushed her long hair back over her shoulders, lingering against her cheek. She closed her eyes, enthralled by his enticing touch. When he tilted her lips toward his, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
The tender pressure of his mouth became the demand that she share herself with him. She gasped at the strength of her yearning when his body covered hers. The thin layers of their clothes let the heat of his body envelop her. She moaned deep into his mouth when his fingers curved over her breast. The fire deep within her exploded in a flurry of sparks of mindless need.
She would be a fool to deny herself this pleasure she ached for. And why should she? Certainly her brother had never deprived himself any pleasure. Geoffrey had sought out and seduced most of the maids in the manor house when he was not enjoying other sports with his friends.
Geoffrey …
With a sharp gasp, Melisande pulled away from Gabriel. How could she forget her debt to Geoffrey? She had dragged him from the safety of Tyre into death. If for no other reason than to see his death avenged, she could not renounce what she was to safeguard her own life.
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