Beloved Pilgrim (23 page)

As she turned to face Elisabeth, she found
herself clasped hard, strong hands biting into her upper arms. Her
cry of protest was cut off as the knight's lips found hers in the
darkness and pressed hard. Elisabeth's tongue forced its way into
her mouth. She bit it.

Elisabeth jumped back, putting her hand to
her mouth and tasting blood. "Why did you do that?"

"Why do you think? Do you think I should want
you to force your way into my home and rape me?" Maliha punched her
square in the chest. "You wanted me to stop being meek. Well,
doesn't this please you, Excellency," she shot, with a sneer in her
voice. She hauled off and slugged Elisabeth in the chest with both
fists.

"Ow, that hurt!" Elisabeth exclaimed. Then
she felt silly. Why should a knight cry out that a mere woman
punched him in his chest. But the woman had connected with her
nipples, which were already tender with her monthly flux.

She stood a moment, perplexed. Maliha had
gone still. Elisabeth's eyes were adjusting and she could see the
woman's head-covering had slipped askew, letting the long black
hair loose on the right side of her head. Her impulse was to reach
toward Maliha and take her into her arms. But instead the dark
beauty came forward and placed herself there. The chin tipped up,
the lips parted. Her own eyes wide, Elisabeth lowered her head and
sank into a kiss of such poignant sweetness she thought she would
swoon.

Maliha had had a sudden revelation. There was
something about this knight, something that did not fit what she
knew of men. The bearing was right but the look in the man's eyes
was wrong. Men did not look with such intensity into a woman's
eyes, she thought. The kiss had been hard but something was
different there too. A man would force the kiss, devouring her. And
then there was an odd sense of lumps on the knight's breast, even
through the chain mail. Her mind raced back over their encounters
in the past few days and certain things presented themselves in a
new light. Could it be?

She decided to collect more information, and
thus leaned into the man to invite him to kiss her. This time the
kiss was softer, more sensual, and Maliha started to explore with
her tongue. The feel was much like a ripe peach, soft, yielding,
but ardent. It reminded Maliha of an exquisite night she had spent
with a female cousin when they were still girls.

Maliha raised her arms and put them around
the knight's neck. Elisabeth's own mailed arms slowly snaked around
the soft yielding body in her arms. She felt Maliha press her body
along her own. She could not think to wonder what had changed.
Their tongues met in each other's mouths and sweetly slid across
and under each other. She felt Maliha's tongue slide along inside
her teeth. She felt as if the juices in her most private place were
flowing out of her and down her britches.

A shrill voice came from the doorway. Maliha
jumped back and spun. She screamed something angry in Turkish. The
older woman who had a small child in her arms returned vituperation
for vituperation.

Elisabeth stood, stunned, unable to
understand a word. The exchange continued with growing heat.
Finally Maliha snatched the child out of the woman's arms, turned
to Elisabeth and, grabbing her elbow, pushed her out a back
doorway.

Outside the three were not alone. Other women
and several children squatted in the mud at various activities.

"Get out of here!" Maliha shouted and gave
Elisabeth a shove that nearly knocked her over.

"Maliha, I love you! I am going to get your
position back in Andronikos's house. It was my fault they let you
go."

Maliha stood holding the child on her hip.
Her face changed to an expression of revelation. "I wondered if you
had gotten me sacked. Why did you do that?"

The shrill voice came from within the shack.
Maliha's face turned in the voice's direction. "You have to go.
Yes, please try to get my position back. See if you can get them to
let me bring my son."

"Your son?" Elisabeth was astonished. The
voice shrilled again. "Yes, yes, I will do that. Come to the house
tomorrow. I will see to it that . . . "

"Just go! You are putting us in danger
already. I will be there."

Elisabeth turned and dashed away. When she
got to the gate and saw the smirk on the guard's face, she hauled
off and slugged him as hard as she could in the mouth. "Don't you
say a single word. Not a breath!" she growled, then passed him and
strode away up the miserable street of the slum.

Elisabeth slipped into Andronikos's villa and
went straight to her chamber. She slammed the door shut, went to
her bed and threw herself on it, chain mail, sword and all. She was
miserable. And she had a dilemma. She would beg the eunuch to take
back Maliha and let her bring the boy, but then what? How would she
break the news to Maliha that she herself was a woman? Would she
make a scene and tell everyone? She kept playing a scene in her
head, over and over, of a horrified pair of honey-colored eyes
screaming at her, "Unnatural! Abomination!"

She heard the door slide open and shut
quietly. "I thought I said to ask first!" she spat.

A pause, then Albrecht's voice. "May I come
in, my lord?"

Elisabeth sat up on the edge of the bed. She
swiped across her eyes with a corner of the counterpane. Albrecht
stood and stared at her. Elisabeth had wept before him in the past,
but nothing like this. He looked her up and down. "My lord! You are
bleeding! What happened?" He dashed to her and knelt to examine the
blood on her britches. "Are you cut?"

She looked down and saw the spots of blood on
her britches. She jumped up and turned around. Seeing the stain on
the counterpane, she wailed. "Damn it, I suppose everyone in
Constantinople saw the bloodstains down my legs as I went through
the streets. I have my flux, that's all."

He stared at her. "You don't usually get like
this when you are . . . well . . . on the rag. Here, let me help
you. Would a bath make you feel better?"

Still weeping, she nodded her head. "Thank
you. There is no better place to feel miserable than in a hot
bath."

Albrecht went to the door to summon a servant
to arrange the bath. He helped Elisabeth remove her soiled clothing
and wrapped her in a robe. He gathered up the counterpane and threw
it in a heap on the floor. "I will wash them out myself. No one
ever needs to know."

"Oh Albrecht, I am so miserable! That girl,
that woman, Maliha. I got her let go."

He looked at her. "Why did you do that, my
lord?"

Elisabeth's eyes brimmed over again. "I
didn't mean to. I dismissed her from serving me, that's all, but
Andronikos sent her away completely. I went to find her, to bring
her back."

Taking the soiled items to a basin, he poured
cold water over them and started to scrub and rinse. "Did you find
her?"

"Yes, I did. I told her to come back here and
I would have her position back."

He paused and turned to look at her. "I don't
understand why you are . . . " He held his tongue at the sound of
scratching at the door.

Elisabeth called, "Come," and then averted
her eyes so the servants coming in with the large tub and screen
would not see her tearstained cheeks.

When the door was firmly shut behind them she
put her face in her hands. "Albrecht, I love her."

He stood perplexed. "But, the worst that can
happen when she comes back is that you remain aloof. She doesn't
need to know you love her. "

"But when I kissed her she kissed me
back!"

"Oh," was all Albrecht could say.

"She will expect me to take her to my bed,
but how can I do that? She would find out I am a woman too."

Albrecht grasped the situation at last. "You
will simply have to keep her at arm's distance, my lord."

She turned a miserable face to him. "I know,"
she moaned.

Albrecht suggested, "Andronikos must have
other work, other houses. You could ask him to send her there. Or
just say you changed your mind."

Sparks flew from her eyes as she regarded
him. "I won't do that! I love the woman, but even did I not I would
never do such a thing. She told me her and her son's lives are in
danger because of me. I would rather die."

"All right, all right!" he protested. "It was
just a suggestion."

She continued to glare at him. Then her
shoulders dropped again and she leaned forward, and put her face in
her hands. "It's hopeless."

When the bath was ready, he took her robe and
held her steady as she lowered herself into the tub. "Drape a sheet
over the tub, would you? There's a little chill in here," she
asked.

Elisabeth lay sunk into the tub with the hot
fragrantly oiled water up to and covering her chin. Albrecht looked
at her face. She did look broken hearted. How well he knew what
that felt like. He thought, "At least I had Elias. Will she ever
have someone like that?" Aloud he asked her, "Would you like me to
wash your hair?"

Elisabeth stretched languidly in the water.
"Yes, I would. And can you get me some wine?" She knew she was
being childish or, rather, womanish. A derisive chuckle escaped her
throat.

Albrecht heard a tap at the door. He pulled
the screen around the tub more securely. "That is probably more hot
water. I will order the wine and some food as well." He heard an
inarticulate sound from the tub that he took as
acknowledgement.

When he opened the door a crack, he saw
Maliha standing outside in the corridor holding a large heavy ewer
of hot water. She quickly shook her head, her eyes communicating
for him not to say anything.

"You can't," he whispered.

"I know," she mouthed. She gestured for him
to take the ewer. She pointed toward the screen and cupped her own
breasts. She put her lips to his ear and said in a breath, "Let me
go to her."

Albrecht's mind was racing. She had said
"her" and it was apparent from the mime that indeed she somehow
knew that his pilgrim knight was a woman. And there was nothing but
a smile and tenderness on the maidservant's face. His eyes rounded.
His own lips curved up at the edges. He radiated thankfulness as he
nodded and gave her back the hot water ewer. He made a gesture of
farewell and slipped past her through the door to make himself
scarce.

Maliha set the ewer on a table while she shut
and latched the door after him.

"Was that the servant?" came Elisabeth's
voice from the other side of the ornate screen.

Not answering, Maliha walked around the edge
of the screen and leaned to pour the water into the bath. The woman
in it had her eyes closed.

"Ah, thank you, Albrecht. You read my mind.
Can you wash my hair now while we wait for the wine?"

Maliha came around behind her head and picked
up the bottle with the oils used to wash hair. She poured some into
her palm and reached for the dark head. All the while, she gazed at
what she could see of Elisabeth's naked body. There was a sheet
covering her from about the waist down, but the woman's small
breasts she could see. They were slippery with oiled water and the
nipples were taut and hard. She had to repress a sigh so as not to
give herself away. She wanted to enjoy this as long as she could.
She was afraid that when Elias learned who was with her, he, no,
she would be angry and order her out of the chamber.

Elisabeth was drowsy enough to dismiss the
impression that Albrecht's fingers were shorter and gentler on her
scalp. She luxuriated in his touch. Just now she needed to feel
petted and stroked. Her body still felt the fire that had rocketed
up into her when the woman had leaned unexpectedly into her and
kissed her so deeply she felt it in her soul. And other places. She
thought that this was probably when her bloods leaked out of the
rags she used. Her womanhood filled with her own juices and there
was just too much for the rags to soak up.

"Mmm," she sighed. "I really needed this. I
do love her so. I wish Maliha was the one washing my hair."

The honey-eyed woman started. "Dear God," she
thought. "She meant what she said, she loves me?" She reached for
the ewer, filled it with water from the tub, and rinsed out
Elisabeth's hair. She set the ewer on the floor and, kneeling,
reached out both arms and put them around the German woman's neck
and put her hands on her wet breasts. She began to stroke and
knead.

Elisabeth jerked her eyes open. "What are you
doing?" She looked at the arms and hands. They were most definitely
not Albrecht's. "Who is it?" She struggled to sit up.

"It is I, my beloved, Maliha." The voice was
husky and right next to her ear.

She froze for just a heartbeat, but then
managed to pull herself up and twist her torso to look behind her.
Her eyes were wide, her full lips parted, and the effect was
somewhere between humorous and poignant. "Maliha," she
breathed.

Maliha leaned forward and took her face in
her hands. She put her lips to Elisabeth's. The mouth under her
lips opened, and she slipped in her tongue, only to be met and
matched by her beloved's own.

Elisabeth turned all the way to kneel in the
bathtub. Her arms went around Maliha. She cupped the back of the
woman's head with one hand, and stroked down her back to her waist
with the other. Maliha put her own arms around the wet, naked woman
and held her tight. She felt the hand stroking her back come around
and stop just shy of cupping a breast. She sighed, encouraging the
hand to do as it sought. Elisabeth's palm touched the generous
roundness and felt the stiff nipple pressing into it through her
clothes. She pulled out of the kiss and nuzzled Maliha's throat,
while the darker woman sighed.

All of a sudden, Maliha felt herself clasped
tight in the naked woman's arms. They were strong and pulled her
forward. She was lifted off her knees and powerfully pulled
sideways and over the tub's rim. With a splash she found herself in
the water resting on her side on the naked woman's body. She
laughed and squealed and every delighted sound echoed in the
pilgrim knight's voice.