Chapter 35

By the time everyone was safely aboard the ship, the sun was already tinging the sky with morning light in a pale shade of silver. Randel took a moment to lean against the ship rail and breathe in the salty sea air. He whispered up a word of thanks that the Saracens had not given chase up the beach. And he had personally counted each of the children as they had fought their way through the waves and climbed up the rope ladders to the ship. Sadie’s injury would require some tending, but only Humphrey would not return to Tripoli with them.

“Sir Randel,” Rumsford touched his arm, pulling him away from memories that were melancholy but no longer haunting. “Lady Honoria is ready for us.”

Randel followed Rumsford into Honoria’s cabin. For the first time in their journey lasting a third of the year, he noted tearstains streaking their leader’s cheeks.

She sniffled and straightened herself. “Welcome, gentlemen.” She pushed against the table with her hands and stood, although that simple action seemed to require the utmost effort.

Lord Haverland gave her shoulder a supportive pat. “We have been taking tally of who made it safely back to the ships.”

Lady Honoria pressed her lips together tight before she spoke. “We rescued almost three hundred prisoners, mostly English, but my husband and cousin are not among them.”

Haverland nodded. “We have it on good authority that they died in Beirut during the winter. We never had a chance of saving them.”

“But at least we know the truth.” Honoria’s voice quavered. “The dukedom can move forward. I think they will better embrace Duchess Adela once they realize she is the true heir.”

“In a way, the knowledge shall set us all free.” Now that his vision concerning his own life had grown so much clearer, Randel understood how a warped perception could lead one astray. “Was that not our primary goal?”

“To set the captives free.” Honoria took a deep breath. “I suppose that could have many interpretations.”

“And our total losses?” asked Rumsford.

“Less than a hundred men between the various battles,” Haverland said. “Considering we saved four times the number that we lost, I suppose we should call this crusade a victory. Yet I can hardly bring myself to feel that way about it.”

Lady Honoria squeezed his hand, the hand of the only man who had given his child’s life in exchange for their cause.

Randel blinked back his own tears now. He glanced about the room to Sir Giles and Sir Etienne, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange. That is when he realized. “But wait, where is Sir Ade—”

The pained look in Honoria’s eye cut him short. “My faithful servant, Sir Ademar, died protecting me at the prison. But I swear that I shall care for his family like my own from this day hence.”

Randel’s stomach churned. “Does Garrett know?”

“Not yet,” Honoria said. “I was hoping you would help me tell him. And we must also tell Sapphira that my husband and our cousin are not alive.”

“Before we do so,” Sir Giles finally spoke up, “we should decide your next step.”

Honoria sagged back into her chair. “I think we are all heart weary.”

Although the experience at his makeshift trial had done much to heal Randel’s own heart, he had grown weary of this battle as well. “Things are far more complex here than we ever realized.”

“And messy,” said Lord Rumsford. “So very messy. Other than rescuing our own men, I have lost sight of what this crusade is even about.”

“I am ready to return home,” Lady Honoria said. “And I believe Sapphira shall agree. I only hope she is not too disappointed that we failed to return the rightful duke to North Britannia.”

“Sapphira is a strong girl,” Randel assured her. “And she has been in good spirits ever since the rescue at Jezeer.”

Lord Haverland pressed a hand to his chest. “Home to my wife and my living children. Though I ache to leave Humphrey here, I am ready to return to the living.”

“But we should stop for a while in Tripoli first,” Lord Rumsford said.

“That is wise,” Sir Giles agreed. “Allow the sick and wounded to heal, and make sure that Bohemond will bring Jocelyn to justice.”

“Jocelyn is a troubled woman.” Randel of all people should know. “But she is not a stupid one. I doubt she will return to the crusader-held territory ever again.”

“And life will not be easy for a beautiful European woman among the Saracens.” Rumsford shook his head. “We shall have to leave vengeance in the hands of God.”

“Sir Randel,” Lady Honoria said, “I would like to thank you for warning us at the prison and for rallying the troops. You are an admirable leader.”

Sir Etienne stepped forward. “And I would like to say that we would be honored to have you remain in the Outremer and join us as a Templar.”

The offer warmed Randel’s heart and buoyed him, as did Lady Honoria’s heartfelt commendation. But now was not the time to turn his attention to such matters.

“I thank you both, but if that is all, I will fetch the children. They should know as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Honoria said.

He headed across the deck and to the boys’ cabin first. Most of them were sound asleep after their overnight ordeal. But Garrett was sitting curled into a tiny ball with his head of wavy brown hair tucked to his knees. At the creak of the door, he lifted his head and his gaze shot to Randel, wary and lost.

Randel sank down beside him upon his pallet.

“My father is gone, is he not? I could not find him anywhere.”

“Lady Honoria would like to speak with you,” Randel said gently, hoping to allow the lady to explain as she had wished.

“Please! Just tell me.” The pleading in Garrett’s voice broke Randel’s heart.

“Your father was a very brave and chivalrous man. He died protecting the Lady Honoria.”

Tears trickled down the boy’s cheeks, which appeared wan despite his tanned skin. “That is always the risk with war. But what will happen to us? My sister, my mother, me?”

“Lady Honoria said she will care for you like her own family now.”

Garrett nodded and swallowed hard. “That is fitting.”

They sat in silence for a moment, side by side. Then the boy spoke again. “My papa is in heaven, with God and all the angels. And he is so very happy. I shall attempt to be happy for him.” He blinked back his tears and swallowed hard.

But Randel could no longer hold back his own tears. “Garrett, I do believe you are the most courageous boy I have ever met.” Randel scooped the child into a hug, and Garrett clung to him with all his might.

“I try,” Garrett whispered back.

Randel stood and helped the boy to his feet. “Come, we must fetch Sapphira. Lady Honoria wishes to speak to both of you.”

Garrett straightened his back and lifted his chin. He had been through much these past months, yet his spirit had grown strong. As much as Randel’s heart welled with compassion for the young fellow, he felt confident that God would see Garrett through this difficult time.

With surprising peace in her heart, Sapphira watched the rocky shoreline slip by as they made their way toward Tripoli. She had spent much of the day tending the wounded aboard their ship, but even that challenging task had not burdened her with heaviness.

They would return home. They would not press onward to Jerusalem. Thank the good Lord! She sensed deep within that their purpose had been fulfilled, though that assurance still made little sense.

Yes, they had freed many Englishmen and their ships would be filled near to bursting on their way home. Yes, the dukedom could move forward with Duchess Adela at the helm now. Yes, her own sister could move on with her life knowing the truth, that she was a widow. But was that truly enough?

The lightness that filled her gave her hope that it might be.

Rabia came up along the ship rail beside her. “Sapphira, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Of course.”

“Alone?” Rabia asked.

Something about the shy look upon the girl’s face told Sapphira this might not be an easy conversation for her to have. They moved to a shady place on the deck to the side of the cabin. Sapphira sat down cross-legged, and Rabia joined her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I have been waiting for the right time to tell you, but then I realized such a time might never come.” Rabia tugged at her yellow silken head scarf.

“Please,” Sapphira said. “You can tell me anything.”

Rabia glanced about, then whispered, “I believe. I am a Christian now.”

Sapphira faltered. Could it be so simple? Should there not be some special mass, some ritual? A baptism, perhaps? But instead she asked the more pressing question. “How?”

“I had a dream. Your Jesus came to me. He was so beautiful. The most beautiful, brilliant, shining man I have ever seen. And the love . . . the perfect love and compassion in His eyes. . . . When He asked me to be His child, I knew I could never deny Him.”

Joy split Rabia’s face like sunshine to match her cheerful veil. “I feel so light and free. Fresh and newborn like a babe. It is almost too hard to explain.”

And all the questions, all the technicalities faded from Sapphira’s mind. She knew it was true, and it was enough. There would be plenty of time to sort through the rest later. She reached out her arms and hugged Rabia. “You are my dear sister in Christ now.”

Rabia gave her a squeeze, but then pulled back. “But wait. There is more. Jesus asked me to share the good news with others. To free other Moslems from the heavy chains of their religion. This is my calling, and this shall be my life now.”

Sapphira’s heart soared. Could Rabia have been the captive Sapphira was meant to set free? “Wait, when did you have this dream?”

“It seems like forever ago, but it was just the night before last. After we talked. The last time we slept in the tent.”

And that next day Sapphira had sensed that their mission was complete.

Joy bubbled up inside her and escaped from her mouth in giggles of wonder. She felt like dancing and spinning but satisfied herself with another long hug. Afterward she said, “This is so amazing. This entire crusade was worthwhile—just for you, Rabia.”

Rabia’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, I do not know about that.”

“Then you shall have to trust me.”

Rabia smiled.

“Do you plan to tell people? The others? Your father?” Sapphira asked, then pressed her hand to her cheek. “Oh, goodness, whatever shall your father say?”

“I told him this morning.” Rabia surprised her by smiling once again. “He admitted that he had been moved by watching you all during this crusade as well. Though he is not ready to make a change in religions, I believe with time and prayer, he might be.”

Rabia peeked around the corner and looked to the other children. “Father does not wish for me to tell people just yet. I had to tell you, though.”

“I am so thankful that you did.” Sapphira’s heart, which had been light and content this last day, now felt ready to burst with happiness.

Then she remembered that Humphrey was not with them, and that Garrett would return home fatherless. This crusade had not been without sacrifice, yet God’s purposes had been fulfilled.

“Your news brings me such comfort, Rabia. I have questioned my vision so many times. I have wondered if my sister steered our mission off course. But now I see that no matter the origins of this crusade, God has used it for the good.”

“I think it is true that whatever your religion, sometimes God works in mysterious ways,” Rabia said, wise beyond her years.

“Still, I wonder if I heard God quite right. If so many needed to die,” Sapphira said.

“Do not take guilt upon yourself.” Rabia knew her too well already.

“I shall try not to, but I am determined to learn to hear from God more clearly. And I shall commit my life to Him and to that purpose.”

“As a nun?”

“That is my fondest hope.”

Rabia nodded.

“I think we are almost there now,” Sapphira said. “Let us rejoin the other children.”

As they turned the corner, Sapphira spotted Brigitte looking wistfully toward the shore.

Sapphira gave her a squeeze from the side. “Are you thinking of Humphrey again?”

“’Tis just so sad. I know we should have expected that not all of us would make it, but I never imagined we might lose him.”

“Is your heart broken now?” Rabia asked, for even she knew of Brigitte’s desire to catch the boy as a husband.

Sadie, along with Issobelle and Lillian, came and joined them. “I have been wondering the same. I hope you don’t mind us asking.”

“I must confess . . . not in that way.” Brigitte brushed away her yellowish hair that tangled in the sea breeze. “This trip has changed me. I still long for marriage and family, but not with the same desperation as before. I always believed my worth was tied to bringing my parents the best son-in-law, and giving that man the best children.”

“And now?” Sapphira prompted.

“And now, I know my worth is in Christ. As much as it is within my power, I will wait for the man God sends to me.”

At that moment, Jervais careened toward them, striving to catch a ball that one of the twins had thrown off course. He crashed directly into Brigitte, and the girls exploded into giggles over the timely collision.

“Do not even think it!” Brigitte squealed.

“What? I am sorry. It was only an accident.” Not understanding their joke and looking offended, Jervais picked up the ball and huffed away.

Sapphira glanced around her and smiled. She had come on this trip a lonely girl with an odd gift that the others feared. Now she would head home with this group of friends who had experienced God’s presence alongside her, and had grown to be like brothers and sisters.

“I realize he is young for you.” Lillian nudged Brigitte with her elbow. “But he has grown quite good looking along the trip.”

“And tall!” Sapphira agreed, and they all giggled again.

Jervais appeared to have sprouted several inches in the last months, and was now the largest of the children. His body had grown lean and muscled, even his face had taken on a leaner, more handsome appearance.

Sapphira watched as Jervais returned to the boys and tossed the ball at Garrett. Garrett shook his head and tossed it back, far from ready to play at games only hours after learning of his father’s death.

“Excuse me please,” Sapphira said to the other girls.

She headed his way. Although Garrett was still smallish for his age, he had an inner strength she had always admired. She was more determined than ever to become a nun, but suddenly she realized that a gentle and faithful man was of far more value than one who was arrogant and flamboyant like Philippe.

She took Garrett’s hand in her own. “I am so very sorry about your father.”

“Thank you,” he said but looked shyly away.

“And I will be here for you.”

Still he averted his gaze.

She gave his hand a swift jerk. “Enough of this silliness between us. You have always been like a brother to me. And now you will be a part of my family.”

He turned to her, his big brown eyes wide with shock. Then he gave her hand a firm squeeze and smiled. “I admit I have missed your friendship.”

“And I have missed yours. Let us never let anything stand between us again. Promise?”

He nodded and squeezed her hand tighter. “I suppose I cannot deny an offer of family at a time like this.”

Though she had wondered if he might shatter at the news of his father, she could now see the strength clearly shining from his eyes. This crusade had changed every one of them.

Garrett glanced down at their joined hands and then to the shoreline of Tripoli where the noble family awaited them. “Philippe shall be jealous if he sees this. He shall not understand.”

At that moment a tall, blond figure waved their way from the shore.

But Sapphira’s heart no longer tugged her in Philippe’s direction. She was over the boy, and more determined than ever to commit her life to Christ as His bride.

“Philippe shall recover.” She smiled, ready to move on to the next phase in her life. This crusade might be coming to an end, but she had no doubt that many future adventures awaited them all.