Rose (32 page)

She held up a hand, her voice as cold as the rushing water behind him. “Enough, Dominus. You and I have had our fun. I do not want to see you again.”

Mamie returned the horses to the stable. Her body was satiated, but her heart was troubled and filled with doubt. How could Dominus be so cold?

Intrigue and drama. She walked toward the courtyard.

Fay stopped her before she went inside. “Mamie,
mon chéri
. How was the marketplace? I thought you were going to wait for me and Bo to join you.” Fay looped an arm through Mamie's.

Fay had aided in her preparations for seducing Dominus, so something else was going on.

Mamie played along. “I would not have shopped without you. It would be no fun.” She cleared her throat. “I went to the river to clear my head. I would have asked you, but I know that even looking at the ships makes you sick.”

Fay shivered. “I am glad I stayed here. I came up with a new tumbling move as I was juggling earlier. I wonder if I could combine a back flip with tossing three oranges in the air.”

Mamie allowed Fay to guide her toward the trail leading to the bench overlooking the city. “Really? I would love to see that.”

“It will take practice.” Fay squeezed her arm, and they walked so fast it was almost a run.

“I will help. You know I will.” Mamie could not even imagine
such a spectacle. “What will we, er—?”

“Sh.” Fay pulled her quickly down a side trail, hiding behind a thorny cliff-rose bush. She put a finger to her lips and pointed.

Within a few heartbeats, Thierry slinked past, glancing from left to right.

Waiting until he was gone, Fay cursed beneath her breath.
“Things have gone sour as curdled milk,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper as she stared down the trail. “Constance glared at everyone through dinner and did not even bother to come to supper.”

Mamie's blood cooled. “Do you think they told the king what I overheard earlier?”

“Eleanor was alone, writing letters behind a locked door all afternoon. She said she was not feeling well.”

“I am so sorry. I should have been there,” Mamie said. Doing
her duty, instead of lying with Dominus, who claimed to love her but then didn't want her.

“Let me finish. It gets worse.”

“How?”

“Eleanor and Louis were arguing at the table. She finally left, in tears. But there were tears in the king's eyes too.” Fay grimaced. “We should just go and forget Edessa. Forget Jerusalem. We should return to Paris.”

Her stomach knotted. She empathized with Louis. And the queen. “Do not let our queen hear you say that. I imagine that all this turmoil has made it seem like Edessa is the only option open to her, where she can be free.”

Fay put a hand to her mouth. “You know, I think you might be right. Mother of Mercy, this is terrible. And I don't know what to do.”

Mamie put an arm around her friend. “I am sorry I wasn't here.”

“No, you are not.” Fay sniffed.

Things had ended terribly for her and Dominus, but she did not regret a moment of their lovemaking. He'd been right. She cared for him. She'd been right. It did not matter. She turned and met Fay's gaze. Both of them still crouched behind the flowering bush. “How can I help?”

“I tried talking to Eleanor, but she had locked us all from the suite. Even Larissa is banished to the hall.”

“I can pry open the door if we need to.” Mamie withdrew her dagger.

“The journey has been hard for everyone. She is just tired.” Fay whispered, “She looks at Raymond as if he rules the world. I tried to warn her, but she got angry with me. We've never argued before now. I don't know how to reach her.”

“Let's go try.”

“All right. But if I see Odo or Thierry once more this night, following me around, waiting for something to use against Eleanor, then I might be tempted to run them through.”

Fay's angelic face wore a layer of righteous determination that made Mamie pause. “Now you really look like Nemesis. Goddess of justice, from the mosaic in the hall? All you need are the scales in one hand. You already have the sword.”

The two women waited a few minutes, and their patience was rewarded by Thierry making his way back up the path to the palace. He wore a curious expression, his eyes down.

“He is wondering where we went.” Mamie stared at the eunuch'
s back. He hunched rather than walked, as if burdened.

“I loathe him,” Fay said. “He has the power to deliver the queen a death blow. I will stop him, if it is not too late.”

Mamie got up from her crouch, her legs sore, and brushed the dirt from her gown. “Come. Let us discover what harm has been done and plan from there.”

They walked to the palace and up the wide marble stairs to the second-floor suite. Larissa sat outside on a stool, her sewing basket next to her.

Mamie and Fay knelt down so they were at eye level.

“Anything?” Fay asked.

“The occasional sniffle.” Larissa's mouth turned downward.
“I do not understand what happened. She will not do anything but mutter and mumble.” She lowered her voice. “She sent for the king.”

“King Louis is in there?” Mamie exchanged a hopeful glance with Fay. If they were talking instead of arguing . . .

“He is at
prayers
.” She stabbed the needle though the fabric.
“He sent word that he will meet with her in the morning.” Pull, stitch, loop. “So then she said
she
was busy.” Knot. “All of it, games.”

Mamie tried to open the door, but it was still locked. She gave a series of taps on the wood. “It is me—Mamie. Are you all right, my queen?”

A shuffling sounded on the opposite side, and then they all heard a click as the lock was released. Larissa rose from her stool, and Fay opened the door.

The three women went inside. A single oil lamp burned against the dark, casting eerie shadows along the wall.

Eleanor, eyes puffy, held her head high. Silence reverberated as they all took stock of one another.

“How are you?” Mamie asked.

“I am very unhappy.” Eleanor gave a tired laugh. “There is nothing you can do to make me happy, so do not even try.” Her eyes welled. “Holy Mary, have mercy. My eyes are broken. They will not stop leaking.”

Fay burst into tears, throwing her arms around her cousin and holding tight. She leaned her head back, ensuring she had Eleanor's attention. “I am sorry we argued.”

“As am I, my sturdy Daisy.” Eleanor sniffed and stepped back, keeping one hand on Fay's shoulder. “I am overwrought. This Crusade has been beset by bad luck.” She brought a handkerchief to her cheeks. “I see how we could attain victory so clearly! Yet my husband,
my husband
, does not. Instead, he listens to his advisors who have not been guiding him well. How can he be so blind?”

She squeezed her fist around the fabric. “Determined to gain absolution instead of win the battle against Nur ad-Din.
Do you understand what besting the Turks would do for our army's morale? Knights and soldiers—the few we have left—are miserable. And Louis does not know how to rally them.
I
could do it.”

Mamie knew the queen was right and felt the power in the room rise with each pace Eleanor took. She'd done so with Bishop Clairvaux, enticing the troops to join the Crusade before it was even a Crusade.

She understood about creating something people could believe
in. To follow and support. So what if it was pageantry? The foundation was solid.

Fay leaned against the yellow trunk, her arms at her waist, her legs stretched out before her.

“I will try once more to make Louis see reason.”

“Or what?” Mamie dared ask.

“Some things are best kept to me.” She kissed Mamie's cheek, then Fay's. “Go to bed,
mon fleurs
. I thank you for your loyal service with all my heart.” Tugging at Larissa's hair, she said, “You too. Now, I am exhausted. I would like to go to the bazaar in the morning. We can invite Raymond. He promised to show me his newest ship.”

“What of Constance?” Mamie asked, attempting to head off more rumors.

“I suppose, though she is peeved with me.” Eleanor sighed. “Jealousy is an ugly thing.”

Mamie bit her tongue, unwilling to change the course of the queen's benevolent mood. She was not sure if it helped that the queen understood what was happening.

“And Bo? I promised him a new elephant.”

“Of course.
Bonne nuit
.” Eleanor closed the door between the rooms.

Mamie looked to Fay. “Well?”

Fay got up from her spot against the trunk and walked toward
the window overlooking a tiny garden. “It hurts me to say this, but I think she is planning something and doesn't want us to know what it is.”

“Why?” Mamie opened her trunk, pulling out a nightgown.

“Isabella stopped her from committing treason, by taking the queen's place when going to see Emperor Manuel.”

Mamie's skin grew cold. “We will have to be on guard.”

“Guard the queen from the queen?”

“If that is what needs to be done, then yes.”

“I will take first watch.” Fay brought a stool and sat before
the door. “If she leaves, I will wake you up and we will follow her.”

“Where would she go?” Though Mamie knew. To see Raymond.
She put the nightgown away.

Fay, her expression stoic, said, “I have an idea, and I hope that I am wrong.”

Neither of them said his name out loud.

Stretching out her legs, Fay asked, “And how was your tryst? I was sorry to bring you into turmoil.”

Mamie felt her skin flush, and her body tingled as if Dominus
stood next to her. They had created their own magic, thought it hadn't lasted long.

“He is neither married nor a Templar, though that is a secret.”
Mamie held a finger to her lips. “It was a melding of like hearts. Thank you for helping me.”

“I put together some wine and a blanket.” Fay exhaled. “I am glad for you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am not happy, Fay. If something were to happen and the king and queen, you know . . . Dominus would side with the king, and I with the queen. I cannot trust a man like that.”

“Are no men to be trusted?” Fay said sorrowfully. “The king is one of the most honorable men I've ever witnessed, but it makes him weak.”

Deciding not to comment on her friend's astute observation, Mamie kept her gown on, in the event they needed to follow
the queen in a hurry. Shoes off, stockings off, she slid under the blanket. “Wake me as soon as you get tired.”

From memories of the passionate fire of Dominus's lovemaking, her mind drifted to the queen's fragile unhappiness. If they could get to Jerusalem, perhaps the queen might feel pride in their journey once more. Eleanor was very competitive, and it must have been a bitter medicine to look over their litany of failures. There were so many that it was beginning to feel as though things had always been this way.

She dozed, jerking awake when she heard the scrape of Fay's stool against the floor. “Eleanor?” Mamie said.

Fay put a finger to her lips.

Mamie slipped from the bed, tiptoeing across the room. She pressed an ear against the door between their rooms.

Bare feet padding against the tile floor. The smell of wax as a candle was lit. The muffled whisper of Larissa asking the queen if she was all right.

“I wish to write for a while,” Eleanor said in a low voice. “Do not get up. Sleep.”

Larissa murmured something, then was quiet. Mamie followed
the scratch of a quill on parchment.

“She likes to write when she is upset. Perhaps this will help?” Mamie spoke in soft tones.

Fay nodded, and Mamie pushed her toward the bed, taking the stool. Fay crawled into bed with her gown on and pulled the covers over her head.

Mamie got as comfortable as she could on the stool and took her turn guarding the queen.

Dominus resented wearing the Templar robes but knew he could not leave his mission just yet. He had to discover proof that Bartholomew was planning something different than what the master in Jerusalem and the bishop and the pope wanted.

He got to his room, which was empty. He assumed Everard would be in the main hall with the other knights, about two dozen Templars, most of whom were on the caravan with them. Perhaps five were posted here in Antioch with Bartholomew. Everard said it was because most of the men preferred to be in Jerusalem and Temple Mount.

The rest were guarding traveling pilgrims against the Turks. For a group of men devoted to poverty, there was a lot of money involved, Dominus noted.

His thoughts constantly strayed to Mamie, who was everything he could ever want. Generous, loving, funny, and bold. He had never connected with another person the way their hearts had touched in the grove. He could not imagine leaving her.

She'd been so angry at him when they'd split ways at the stable. He knew he had ruined his chance at happiness with her.
She had proven once again that her liege was the important factor
in her life, as it should have been.

If Eleanor and Louis separated, he would go with the king to Jerusalem or lose everything he'd worked toward. Mamie would stay with the queen. She was right, and this was no time for romance.

She'd scorned his reasons for doing the bishop's will, as if his loyal service to something he did not believe in was not proof of his love for his family. Yes, his father reached from the grave and pulled him back. A dozen or more small faces haunted his memory. He did not consider his brother's bastards a product of sin, deserving of the poorhouse.