Authors: Traci E. Hall
Antioch closed the gate on the last horse. It was not long
before Raymond knocked on the door. In a desperate act, Mamie
let Larissa arrange her hair and veil so the wrong shade of red was mostly covered, then she leaned against the table to hide her face and sob.
“She is still upset,” Larissa said, tears in her own eyes as she opened the door wide.
Raymond crossed the room, touching Mamie's shoulder. “'Nor?
Mon chéri
, I am so sorry. I promise you, it will be better.”
She cried harder. Larissa added her sobs to the chaos.
At last, Raymond backed out of the room.
“Until morning, then. Would you care for food?”
Larissa shook her head. “We will be fine.”
He left and Larissa locked the door, still sobbing. After a few minutes she stopped short and poked Mamie in the arm. “Holy Mary, mother of mercy, what are we to do?”
Part of her crying had been over Dominus, knowing he was gone and she had not been able to see him one last time. Mamie looked up, wiping her eyes and smearing makeup everywhere. “I will think of something lateâ” She took a deep breath. “There is no hope for it. I have to do it today.”
Dominus walked along the river, watching the caravan go. He did not see Eleanor or Fay or Mamie. Where were they?
He'd waved to Everard as the young man passed by. The Templar was the ideal of every knight. Steadfast, strong, courageous, and loyal. Dominus met the patriarch at a teahouse and
took a seat opposite him. “You wanted to see me? Odd, but I did not see the queen. King Louis really did take the Aquitaine vassals.”
“It was his right.” The patriarch spooned honey into his ceramic cup. “She is fine. Everyone is fine. Thanks to you, Duke Brochard of Byronne. That was some ruse you played. The bishop
writes that your help was invaluable in catching Bartholomew and putting a stop to the rebellion before it even started. He was quite devious, using the Turkish arrows to fire at the queen from Saint Symeon's.”
“Brother Everard found the documents in the commander's prayer book. He is a man to watch in your Templar hierarchy. Honorable.”
“I will make a note of that.” He sipped his tea. “I already have, actually. What are you going to do now? You wear your finery well.”
Dominus tugged at the fitted sleeves of his tunic. A pattern of green that reminded him of the olive leaves and a darker green surcoat, short brown leather boots and a feathered cap to cover his head all befitted his position as dukeâaccording to the draper. “I feel ridiculous. I hate to say this, but that brown robe suited me.”
Aimery laughed. “I will let the bishop know. Have you talked
to Raymond?”
“Non. I was hoping to see a friend before I caught a ship home.”
The patriarch nodded sagely. “I see.”
“Nothing to see,” Dominus said, scraping the crumbs of the patriarch's biscuit off the table and tossing them to the birds.
“Did you fall in love while you were a humble knight?”
Dominus stared out at the end of the caravan leaving the city gates. “I fell in love.”
“Did you tell her?”
“We knew when we touched.” He lifted his shoulders and let them fall in sorrow. “We just knew that we were meant for one another.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Fortune turned again, and she disappeared.” Dominus rubbed his smooth-shaven chin. “She chose the queen over me. It was her duty, she said. Just as mine is in Byronne.”
“Are you talking about the redhead with the laugh like a sailor's?”
Dominus's breath caught, and then he chuckled. “
Oui
. She is the one.”
“Let me give you some advice. I realize we priestly sorts are
not supposed to talk about love. But I know the feeling. I understand
what makes a man move mountains. Love. It connects us all.”
“I appreciate your advice. I do.” He flattened a water droplet
on the cloth. “I have nothing to offer a woman such as her. She has her money. She has adventure and excitement and the protection of the queen.”
“You are a duke.”
“With the tiniest duchy ever granted. Not that I'm complaining.”
“Is that why you were ashamed of your home?”
“No,” Dominus said, surprised. “No. That was my father. He acted as if he owned the world instead of our beachfront and a few ships. The village. He created bastards by the litter. Called everybody Son so that he wouldn't have to remember our names.”
“Hmm.” Aimery drank the last of his tea and smacked his lips. “Is there a good memory?”
Dominus hunched his shoulders, then relaxed them. He was a man, not a child. His life would be, and was, what he made it. “The man loved a good joke. Or a bad joke. He laughed at just about anything.”
Including me and my dreams to be more than a fisherman.
“Mamie loves to laugh too. I think she and my father would have gotten along.” He shook his head, clearing the images of Mamie and his father sharing a jest and a drink.
“God honors those who honor their responsibilities,” the patriarch said, getting to his feet. “Are you sure you don't want to come up to the palace? I have some words to say to a certain prince.”
“No, thank you. I rented a room overlooking the water. I'll be leaving in the morning.”
Mamie barely slept that night. Afraid of Raymond's temper once the prince found out about the deception, she decided to disappear before that happened.
She and Larissa had scrubbed the last trace of powder from Mamie's face, then braided her hair into a bun at the back of her head. She put on a brown cloak and carried two bags in her hands. Larissa was similarly laden. They crept from the palace, shadows in the light of the moon.
She had coin enough to buy them passage back to France. They just had to get to the dock. They walked in silence, their breaths like steam in the chill air.
As the sun sprouted over the water, the morning bells rang.
Mamie's arms were ready to fall from her body after the slippery trek down the jagged mountain path. “We made it.” The marketplace was just beginning the day. Smells of hot tea, pastries, and sausage made her stomach rumble. “We will get a bite once we find passage. I won't feel safe until we're on board.”
“I won't stop shaking until we're back in France. I'll never leave home again.”
“Madame, Madame Argente!”
Mamie turned toward the childish voice, dropping the heavy bags as a sturdy figure wrapped itself around her legs and squeezed.
It took a moment to get her bearings, but then Mamie laughed, touching the little girl's hair. “Isla, how are you? Does your mother know where you are?”
Isla put a hand in Mamie's and pulled. “Come, come, pretty lady. Come!”
The girl's slanted eyes and happy smile tugged at Mamie's heart. Knowing she needed to hurry, she looked at Larissa with a shrug. “Wait right here? I want to see her home.” Mamie leaned down and dropped a kiss on Isla's nose, making the girl giggle. “I wager you give your
maman
gray hair.”
“
Argente
?” She touched her blonde braid.
“Silver hair, then.” Mamie chuckled. “Take me to your mother.”
Isla skipped along the road, waving to everyone. Mamie received wary looks until she explained she was taking Isla home. At the end of the storefronts began the rows of tents with tables inside, displaying their wares.
Isla's mother rose, a hand to her mouth, when they came into sight. “Oh, dear.”
“No bother. It seems we are to be friends.” Smiling, she held out a hand. “Call me Mamie.”
The woman shook her hand with sincerity. “I am Mary. That's my husband, John. Our other two children, Elizabetta and Johnny.”
Everyone smiled in greeting, looking uncomfortable, except for Isla, who wore a pleased expression as she swung Mamie's hand back and forth.
“Are you staying in Antioch?” Mary asked, holding her hands loosely at her waist, her discomfort obvious as she cast quick looks at her husband.
“Tyche has been a capricious goddess,” Mamie said, gesturing
to the table filled with various representations of Antioch's good luck symbol the family created and sold to support themselves. “I am leaving as soon as I can. Could you, perhaps, point me to the ticket booth?”
“Oh, yes. Are you all right, madame?” Mary peered closely.
“I am.” This woman was so kind Mamie wished she could buy every straw Tyche on the table.
Instead, Mamie slipped several coins from her purse and handed them to Mary. “I have a favor I must ask.”
“Anything!” Mary pointed to a chair, where Mamie's silver shoe sat in an honorable display. It was covered in ribbons and fabric like a doll. “She sings to it. It has been a boat, a dolly, a horse, and only rarely a shoe.”
“The gift of imagination.” Mamie paused, thinking of another adorable child. “I would like to send an elephant to Prince Bohemond at the palace. I'm afraid I promised him an outing to the market, and with everything that has happened, we never got to go. Do you have a square of parchment?”
John rifled through a stack and found a sheet. “Here. I have no quill, just charcoal.”
“That will do.” Mamie signed her name with a flourish.
“A wooden elephant?” Joseph asked, scratching his head.
“No, of the straw material here. He is a boy of five. I am sure he will be delighted with what you make.”
“But this is too much money,” Joseph said, “for such a simple toy.”
“The princess has another child on the way. Perhaps you can show her the quality of your wares, and she will be a returning customer?”
“We thank you.” Mary stepped in front of her husband, keeping the coin. She turned, studying the table of wares before digging into a basket beneath the table. She pulled a crude straw figure with a raw emerald in the belly from the bottom.
“This is powerful magic,” Mary said, meeting Mamie's gaze. Equals, woman to woman. “Love comes in many forms. Make a wish, Lady Mamille, and drop the figure into the water where the river meets the ocean.”
“I do not need magic,” Mamie said, trying to give the expensive gift back.
Mary blinked, closing Mamie's fingers around the figure. “Isla,
mon chou
, it is time for Madame to go.”
Isla released Mamie's hand and dropped into a curtsy so deep her forehead touched the ground.
“How pretty,” Mamie said, her throat tight.
She bobbed up, tipping sideways. “I love you.” Isla grinned and stole Mamie's heart.
Perhaps, she thought, she might find a child in France in need of a home. Dare she take the chance? Suddenly she knew that she would be a mother, in some fashion or another.
“And I, you. Thank you for giving me the most beautiful gift.” Mamie cleared her throat as it thickened with tears. Hope.
Why hadn't she thought of this before?
Following John's simple directions, Mamie found the ticket
booth. She bought two luxury tickets guaranteeing a private berth, then went to Larissa, who guarded the bags with a glare at any who dared get close.
“Got them,” Mamie said, her emotions heavy, though she tried to smile. “Let me buy some fruit and cheese before we board.”
“Hurry,” Larissa urged. “I want to go home.”
Mamie headed toward the tea shop. “I will be right back.” She went directly to the baker, who sold sweet buns with nuts and cinnamon.
“Two, pleaseânon, make it four. I will take them on the ship.” She paid for the buns, along with a few apples, a jar of olives, and some flatbread. In her periphery, she saw the retreating figure of a man in an olive-green tunic, his shoulders as wide asânon. She turned back and sniffed, determined to get on with her own life.
Why couldn't she find a child in need of a mother and raise her or him? She had the manor and the income and the love to give. Isla's simple declaration had freed something in her heart. Despite the pain of losing Dominus, he too had reminded her that she was worthy of an honorable affection. No more running away from herself.
She smiled at the fat baker, then returned to the waiting Larissa.
They walked to the boat, gave the porter the tickets for their lug
gage, and boarded the ship. “Shall we find a seat in the sunshine?”
Dominus turned in his boarding pass, ambling toward the bench near the prow of the galley. Made for passengers, unlike the vessel they'd taken to Antioch, this boat had open tents for shade on deck as well as seating in the sun. The cabins below, though cramped, would be paradise compared to what he'd had before. Being duke came with privilege, and he'd bought his own compartment.
He paused, overlooking the busy Orontes River, prayingâa damnable habit nowâfor smooth sailing once they reached the Mediterranean Sea. Heart heavy with sorrow, he considered how long it would take to settle things in Byronne before he could honorably go in search of his temptation. Would she agree to marry a man with more burdens than assets?
A bawdy laugh echoed off the water, and his heart recognized the sound before his mind did. He turned, seeing a lady, elegant from the top of her sedately veiled head to her pointed embroidered toes, sitting at a bench in the sun, while her maid took the section in the shade. She put a basket between them.
“Perhaps a honey bun will sweeten your temper,” Mamie told Larissa.
“If you want to freckle any worse,” the handmaiden said, “go ahead. Sit in the sun.” She gave an indifferent sniff.
“What do I care? I have nobody to impress. I will go home and raise cats. What do they know of wrinkles? Sunspots?” Dominus
was felled by her smile from fifty paces away. “Are you certain you want to have children with your farmer instead?”