Rose (10 page)

Fay had devoted her life to the queen without seeking a man or family. Larissa was betrothed. And Mamie was, well, broken.

Mamie was the last one from the chamber into the hall. Just
stepping onto the marble tile was enough to elevate her somber
mood. “The sun makes everything glitter as if the walls and floors are made of gemstone,” Mamie said, skipping across a cherub. “I have a nice manor near Troyes. Do you think I should decorate when I get back?”

“One mosaic tile at a time,” Constance suggested with a laugh. “They are heavy. Sturdy, though. We found ruins from Roman times, and the colors are just as bright today as they must have been a thousand years ago.”

“Are they stories?” Fay asked, slowing down to study the images.

“Greek myths, some of them, with a few Roman tales tossed in for good measure.” Constance paused and pointed at a figure near a lake. “This water nymph here? She is supposed to be Daphne. She's got your hair, Mamie. There is a grove dedicated to her, and Apollo, not far from here. Come this way,” she said, turning right to a smaller hall.

“I recognize Aphrodite and Athena,” Mamie said. “But not some of the others.”

“I have a few scrolls in the library with stories. Later, we can bring them out, if you would like. Oh my.” Constance stopped. “This one looks like you, Fay.”

The women stopped and peered closer.

“Who is that?” Fay asked.

Mamie agreed with Constance. The thin, dark-blonde-haired goddess with wings and a gigantic sword twice her body size did have the look of Fay. She stood behind a set of scales. “I like her.”

“Her name is Nemesis,” Constance said. “She balances justice.”

Mamie and Fay exchanged a look with the queen. “It
could
be you,” Mamie said. “Almost there.” Constance kept walking ahead. “You were smart, wearing your old gowns and bringing your new. Nothing feels as good as clean clothes after a bath.”

She made a sharp left turn through a small side door that
led to a semi-covered courtyard. Stone tables and benches dot
ted the grassy area. Urns of potted flowers brightened the shaded space. Daisies, roses, lilies, violets, and peonies were among the blossoms.

“Sanctuary,” Mamie breathed.

Eleanor stopped and surveyed the enchanting nook. “So beautiful, Constance. It makes me miss my garden back home.”

“In Paris?”

“Non, Constance, the home of my heart,” Eleanor said. “Aquitaine. The sun, for one thing, and the flowers blooming wherever the eye rests.” She exhaled. “Paris is dark and gloomy. The castle old—but unlike this quaint antiquity of Rome, I have a moldering pile of stone with drafts and leaks in the roof.”

Constance peered over her shoulder, as if to see if the queen jested.

“Wooden buckets in every corner, but your garden, my queen, is as beautiful as this, if in a different way. The statues you added near the pear trees? Divine.”

“Do not forget the new fountain. It will add the serenity you seek, once the snow melts,” Fay said.

“Snow?” Constance rubbed her arms. “I am glad that winter is over and spring is here. I too prefer the sun and fresh growing things. Your uncle teases me for potting my own herbs, but I like to get my hands in the dirt.” She wiggled her fingers.

“My uncle seems very happy here.”

“I do my best to see it so,” Constance said with a contented smile.

Mamie really liked the princess, who seemed very practical. Mamie appreciated the trait in others since she did not embrace it for herself.

They left the covered courtyard and followed a spiraling trail down to a large, squat building with marble columns in the front. A giant cistern collected water, and the roof had gutters that dripped into a separate barrel. Steam puffed from the air vents, and Mamie hummed. Sore muscles tightened in anticipation of being soothed.

Constance stopped outside the door. “You do not have one in Paris?”

“Not in the castle, no. We have tubs brought to our room for private bathing,” Eleanor explained. “Archaic. I will be changing a few things upon our return.”

“Well, you may use this bath as often as you like while you are here. Send for a servant to prepare the room. It does not take more than a few minutes.”

Mamie opened the door, and steam wafted out, carrying perfume with it. “Rose, jasmine, and . . .”

“Orange blossom.” Constance laughed as if found out. “It is my favorite.”

She showed them inside the two-roomed building. A small portion was for disrobing, and the larger section was a steamed sauna and pool. Along the wall were benches where one could
let the impurities of the flesh seep outward, or there was a shallow
pool with an underwater ledge for sitting.

“These are oils and lotions, some brought from the Orient. Combs, brushes, towels. Please, be comfortable. I must go oversee the kitchen for the banquet, but I will be back soon enough.”

“Shall we wait for you?” Eleanor asked.

“If you are through bathing before I come back, simply follow the trail up to the courtyard. The first door to the right will lead you to the hall. Go left, and you will find your chamber.”

Fay murmured thanks as Constance turned with a wave and left them alone.

“As wonderful as I remember,” Mamie declared, walking toward the smaller room to shed her filthy clothes. Her voice echoed around her.

Fay took a seat on the opposite stool, taking off her shoes.

Eleanor followed more sedately.

“What?” Mamie asked, her silver shoe discarded as she sat on the bench. “Aren't you ready to be clean? We have not had this luxury since Constantinople. I miss it, and I am a mere widowed noblewoman nowhere near as accustomed to the finer things as you. I do not understand why you are still wearing clothes. We should be in the water.”

“I would like to go find my uncle,” Eleanor said.

Mamie had her gown inched up to her knee. She untied her torn and ruined stocking, pulling the frayed ribbon, and let the fabric fall loose. “These are unsalvageable. I should have given everything I was wearing to that little girl.”

Fay ignored Mamie and looked at the queen. “You just spoke to him.”

“In private,” Eleanor said, stubbornness in her tone.

Mamie realized this was going to happen, but so soon? She cleared her throat, untying the other stocking. It too sank to the tiled floor in a puddle of dirt. “Perhaps later, after your bath.”

Eleanor did not like to wait. She was passionate and powerful
and feeling shunted aside. Not a good thing for a queen.

“I want to see him.”

Mamie stood at Eleanor's command, her dress hitched to her thighs and her feet bare. “I will go right now to find him and bring him back here. However, you smell. I smell. And Constance will arrive soon. Do you think she will appreciate you and he in private conversation?”

“She is an ally now,” Fay suggested. “You risk that by going behind her back.”

Silence weighted the air.

“You are right.” Eleanor sat on the bench. Her eyes welled, a rare sight despite the pitfalls and tragedies of the pilgrimage so far.

Mamie sat down next to her, loyal to the woman who had offered her a place to heal and be herself. “I will suggest a meeting. Tonight, at supper? Perhaps when Constance and Louis are not looking, I could—”

Eleanor held up a hand. “Stop. I am making things harder
than they need to be. A sign that I need rest and a good pampering.
He will find a way to speak with me.”

Relieved, Mamie nodded. “I think you are right. If not, there is time tomorrow for me to arrange something.”

Eleanor reached for the tie at her sleeve. “Then let us bathe and scrub the sea salt from our hair.” She pinned her hair in a loose bun.

“I hope that is all that is in there.” Fay gave an exaggerated shudder. “My scalp itches. My skin is rough. And my stomach is still rolling like we are on the ocean waves. I am not looking forward to different water.”

“The captain said it was the strangest accident that lost us at sea. But I wonder.” Eleanor dropped her voice and looked around. “With the Byzantine Emperor hating our cause, how much money would it take to bribe a man? One wrong turn, and we were lost for weeks. We are oath sworn to save Edessa from Nur ad-Din before moving on to Jerusalem. Emperor Manuel might have his own reasons for wanting us to fail in our quest.”

Mamie drew her gown off her shoulders, comfortable in her chemise. The temperature inside the bathhouse was sweltering. “The captain saved us. Without his skill at the helm, the ship would have sunk, all five of our vessels gone forever instead of just lost.”

“What if it wasn't the captain,” Eleanor persisted, “but the ship's mate?”

“Where is this fear coming from?” Fay asked, holding a hand out to the queen. “It is not like you to see ghosts in every corner.”

Eleanor took off her shoes. “Is it fear or caution? A woman does not survive in this world without looking behind every rock.”

“Anything is possible,” Mamie agreed. “I was in the captain's
private quarters and saw nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Like a bag of Byzantine gold, with a sign saying
For the murder of the King and Queen of the Franks
?” Fay giggled.

Mamie sniffed and pinned her hair to the top of her head. “I assure you, like any good spy left to her own devices, I searched his room. Love letters from many women in many different ports. The bill of sale for his ship, the contract our king signed agreeing to pay a fortune to get us safely to Antioch. Nothing untoward or suspicious.”

“We were robbed, considering what we paid that man and his crew for passage. But what could we do? We were dying in Laodicea.”

Mamie pulled Eleanor to her feet and turned the queen around. “Off with your clothes. If we must go over every bump and bruise on this journey, I would like a goblet of wine and a good soak.”

Clad in their thin, sleeveless undergowns, the women went into the attached room. Fay took a seat on the heated bench, her pale face immediately turning pink. Mamie took a jug of wine from the shelf by the oils, gathered three cups, and poured refreshment for them all.

“Thank you,” Fay said, perspiration dotting her forehead.

Eleanor already sat in the pool, her head and shoulders above water. Mamie handed her a cup of wine, too, then dipped her toes in. “Heaven, as I said before. I agree with Fay—let us stay right here for the duration of our visit.”

“We might get hungry,” Fay droned.

“I would die happy,” Mamie declared, sipping the dark red wine. “This is delicious. Pomegranate?”

Eleanor began, “I would like to—”

“We know,” Mamie interrupted. “But you will not feel peace if you continue to probe each wound. Let us speak of brighter things. We are closer to the end of this pilgrimage. We should be in Jerusalem by Easter, according to what I overheard Odo and Thierry discussing. They must not think regaining control of Edessa will take long.”

“I will get my vengeance on those two old crows,” Eleanor said with a toss of her chin. Her skin looked lovely and soft. Her beauty went well below the surface, to good bones and a heart that was meant to love. Mamie wanted to know more about the queen's maternal grandmother. She had an idea that Eleanor did not fall far from the
Dangereuse
tree.

“The banquet sounds wonderful,” Fay said, her voice a monotone whisper coming from the steam. “I could eat and eat and eat.”

Mamie eyed her friend's thin figure. “You should, then, and fill out your rib cage. Why is it that I am the only one hoisting around all of this extra flesh?”

“Your bosom is meant to be plump,” Eleanor said, dismissing Mamie's complaints. “We have survived a difficult journey, the three of us. It has been dangerous. I offer you release from your oath as my bodyguards.”

Mamie turned toward the queen. What was the queen afraid of? “No.”

“Never.” Fay sat up, her eyes wide.

“You saved me today. There was to be no danger, and yet without your guardianship, I may have been injured. Killed.”

Mamie let the water soothe her aches and pains. “You chose us to be your guards. Trained us to protect you. I would die, if needed, in your service, with honor. Your vassals would have been there for you if King Louis had not put them on a different vessel.” She faced the queen, putting her heart into her words. “I pledge my loyalty to you now, and I will do it again and again.”

Eleanor blinked away tears.

Fay leaned forward on the bench. “I pledged my life to you when we were ten and have never wavered in my devotion.” Her braids fell over her shoulders like Medusa's serpents. “You have something particular in mind?”

“You are blessings, both of you.” She paused. “Perhaps. I am forming a plan.”

“That is the danger,” Mamie teased, closing her eyes and leaning back in the water so she could let her body float. Her hair spread out around her like a fan.

“The rose and the daisy, all that remains of my garden.”

“You are being maudlin this afternoon,” Fay said. “Stop drinking that wine. It only makes it worse.”

Eleanor drained the cup. “Things are never as they appear.”

Mamie shivered and looked around the bathhouse. The air cocooned them in a mist of security. Was it false? Mamie gestured for Fay to join them in the water. It was clear Eleanor was too restless to enjoy the bath. “Tell us what things are not as they seem.”

With great reluctance, Fay left her place on the side wall and joined them at the pool. She slid boneless into the water, her chemise so hot it steamed at the contact.

Eleanor's brows rose. “How can you stand to be so warm?”