Mamie breathed a sigh of relief.
Dominus had saved the child and himself.
A man of honor.
But what else was he?
She was getting a better idea of what he was not. She had not asked yet about his status as a Templar or a married man.
Constance picked up her son, tears streaming down her face. “I told you not to come out here, Bo, and this is why. You could have been hurt very badly.”
“A lesson learned,” Raymond said, tousling the boy’s hair.
“My elephant is gone.” Bo stuck a thumb in his mouth.
“Another lesson learned, Bo,” Raymond said sternly. “Look where you are going.” He pressed a kiss to Bo’s forehead.
“I will get another,” Lady Hortencia said, her eyes rimmed in red, “in the market.”
Bo’s tears dried at the mention of another adventure. He hiccupped and reached for Mamie.
“Your son is charming, like his father,” Mamie said, then turned to Constance. “And his mother. He is a lucky boy.”
Bo looked to Mamie. “Will you take me to the market?”
Her heart begged her to say no. But how could she? “If it is all right with your parents, then yes, you may come with us when we go to the market.”
“When, when?”
“We will talk with your mother and decide.” She handed him back to Constance and looked at Eleanor, who was sending mutinous glares toward Louis.
Mamie cleared her throat, ready to remind Eleanor that she and Louis had a family, that they ruled a kingdom, together. “My queen, have you received word about Marie? This scare has me worrying over every child I know.” Mamie fanned her face and waited for Eleanor’s answer.
“Non. But I will send a note myself,” she said, her stance softening.
“May I add my affection to yours?” Louis asked. “Our daughter is now foremost in my thoughts as well.”
“Of course.” Eleanor sighed, then looked at Fay. “Will you bring my writing box to the courtyard where we sat yesterday?” Turning to her husband, she said, “Join me now. We can write the letter together.”
Mamie exhaled and turned away. Perhaps the queen would convince the king to see her side. Or even create a common ground between them.
“Let us meet in the hall before dinner for a round of chess?” Raymond included them all in the invitation.
“Gladly,” Louis said, earning a look of approval from Eleanor.
“Come.” Everyone drifted from the room, and Mamie went last. Pretending to want one last view of the distant ocean, she went to the broken balcony wall and looked up at the roof. Dominus was gone.
For the first time in a while, Mamie gave a prayer of genuine thanks.
She hurried to the bathhouse, but it was empty. Sitting on a bench outside of the building, she waited until the sun reached its zenith.
Just as she was ready to leave, she heard a whistle off to her left. She looked toward the sound and saw a thin, rough trail leading up the side of the mountain.
This had better be worth it. She carefully chose her steps. Too much time to think gave her many things to ask about. Where to even begin? Her own heart wanted to know about Meggie and forget the rest.
She slipped on a loose rock, then lifted her hem. The whistles stopped at a trio of olive trees, the trunks twisted with age though the limbs were heavy with greenish-silver leaves and blossoms.
“Here,” came a deep whisper.
“I know it is you,” Mamie said, exasperated.
“No names, please,” he said, pulling aside a laden branch to a hidden space among the trees.
Mamie ducked and entered. “Not bad for a secret liaison.”
“Nothing untoward, Madame Rou,” he said, looking very monkish with his brown robe and tonsured head.
“You have nothing to worry about from me,” she promised. “I prefer my men to be men. With hair.”
He grimaced and touched his head. “I was on the roof too long. I fear it might blister.”
A reluctant smile crossed her face. “Find some aloe vera and put it on your head. It will soothe the burn. Daisy lotion will work as well.”
“But how am I supposed to explain my red pate to the commander?”
Biting her lip to keep from giggling, Mamie shrugged. “You will think of something. You are very quick on your feet. Thank you for saving Bo from a broken neck.”
“I know about boys,” he said. “I told you, I had brothers.”
Mamie nodded, her gaze speculative. “Tell me about the bishop. How do you know him?”
“I agreed to work with him before the Crusade—and I am not being difficult when I tell you there is not much else to say. I wonder if a message was lost, for this one makes no sense. ‘Two should be as one. Once divided, it cannot be made whole.’” He crushed an olive leaf between his thumb and forefinger. “I do not understand it.”
“What did you write to him about? Is it an answer to something you questioned?”
Dominus brought the leaf to his nose and sniffed. “Sweet. When the olives are salty.”
“Packed in brine. You are changing the subject.”
“Not successfully.” He tossed the leaf to the ground. “He asked me to observe the king and his men. Not to spy or interfere, just watch.”
“What did you see?” Mamie pressed.
He closed his eyes, remembering his last message sent. “An argument between Louis and Eleanor, about his advisors. I may have written that they don’t allow her near Louis as much as she would like.”
“Perhaps that is what the ‘Two should be as one’ refers to?” She put a hand on a hip. “That once divided it can’t be made whole? That could be in reference to the caravan splitting.”
“This is good, talking it out.” He gestured between them. “But I must hurry. If I am not back in my room by the last ring of the bell, it will not just be me in trouble with the commander. I warn you, Mamie, to be careful of Raymond of Antioch. He is a winner, I think at any cost. I saw his eyes today, and he wants control of Edessa.”
Mamie considered this, plucking a white blossom from the tree. “Eleanor feels he can take the city.” She looked at him. “I would like to know more about the commander. I will search his quarters with you.”
“You look nothing like a Templar.” He touched the blond fringe above his brows. “Unless you want me to give you a haircut?”
Mamie chuckled, guarding her heart against him. “No, thank you. I am serious, Dominus. I can help you in the Templar House.”
“I am better off on my own.”
She held his gaze. “Do you think so?”
“For this, oui, I do. I trust your skills, though. I have seen you in battle, madame.”
They shared a look that made Mamie’s toes curl. “I thought you were in a hurry to leave?”
“The Templars are not allowed to have anything under lock and key.”
“I wonder if that is the same rule for commanders . . .” She allowed her voice to trail off as she dove headfirst into the sea of Dominus’s eyes. She knew such a color existed but only because she’d joined the queen’s guard and seen the Mediterranean for herself.
He stepped close, his mouth a few inches from hers, and curled a red lock of hair around a finger. He tugged it, bringing her face closer to his. “You have beautiful hair.” Closer. “Face.” Closer. “Lips.” A hair’s breadth away. Almost touching but tantalizingly out of reach.
“Dominus,” she whispered, “be careful of what you do.” Heart racing, she pushed away from him so she could breathe. She backed into the tree and came to realize the truth.
“You are not a Templar.”
He followed her footsteps. “What are you saying?” He rested an elbow against the gnarled trunk of the olive tree to the left of her body, then reached out with his opposite hand to cup her cheek. She was neatly pinned between the tree and his body.
Her heart raced as she put the pieces together. “Your hair has never been shaved before now. Your scalp is too tender. You are muscled—a warrior.” She gripped a bicep and squeezed. “Hard as oak.”
He shifted, close enough that she felt his interest stir. She gave a husky laugh, every part of her body wanting to get closer, though she kept her hands glued to the tree at her back. “You are no monk.”
“The pope would not be able to resist you.” Dominus leaned close, his breath against her ear. “I will not deny it. Where does that leave us?”
She ducked under his arm and danced out of reach. “Why the facade?”
“I told you, I am working for the bishop.”
She forced her senses to think of something besides the feel of Dominus’s calloused hand against her cheek. Enough to make her melt when she had her own work to do. “Is there something in particular that you are supposed to be looking for? Something within the king’s retinue or the queen’s?”
“The queen is not my interest.” She saw the truth in his gaze. “Bishop Clairvaux asked that I be in correspondence with him. I owed him a debt, and this is how he wanted it repaid. Not many knights can read and write. I can.”
“There has to be more,” Mamie said sternly, squelching the singing in her heart. He might not be a monk, but he was still married. “You are dressed as a Templar.”
“He sent a message, one that I got when we were in Smyrna, about a possible rebellion.”
“What?” She frowned. “Have you seen such a thing?”
“Nothing but honor and accord, despite the discipline.” He stopped. “As you have said, the one glaring question is Bartholomew’s allegiance to Raymond.”
“Not allegiance. Alliance. They are working together, but who can know where their loyalties lie? Bartholomew is training Raymond’s army. He must be a good commander.”
Dominus paced under the trees. “He is teaching a select group of Raymond’s men to fight the same as the Templars. Uniting them into a solitary unit.” Dominus stopped. “Because he is training the men to be a part of Raymond’s army.”
“Isn’t that what Templars do?”
“No. They go to war wearing the white cloak and cross of a Templar, sworn to the pope, with no country they owe fealty to. They have no reason to fight for Raymond, unless Bartholomew has convinced them otherwise.”
“We need to find out,” Mamie said.
“This is where I need your help,” he said.
“I guard the queen. I do not do your bidding.”
“This would be protecting the queen, all right. Against her uncle.”
She closed her eyes. Eleanor adored Raymond, at the cost of her closeness with the king, her husband.
“What is your plan?” She hated to ask, as it felt disloyal. But if she needed to protect the queen—from the queen—what else could she do?
“Listen to anything pertaining to Edessa. Raymond wants to bring it back into the fold. Why?”
“Because it is the right thing to do!” Was there no honor in that? Dominus was determined to make her see shadows lurking in every corner, but Mamie would not dwell in a state of fear.
“That is the obvious answer. Why else would a man, known to bend the rules for his own gain, want to take over a weaker state?”
“To rule it.” She turned quickly, tripping. She grabbed onto a branch, and the limb swayed with her weight.
Dominus put an arm around her until she was steady again.
Though it was wrong, she stayed there. “But Jocelyn is here, with Raymond. He will want his own city back.”
“Raymond will oversee the city, giving him control of two of the four Christian states,” Dominus said. “The two smallest—but Bartholomew’s elite army would suddenly make Edessa and Antioch the deadliest.”
Mamie bowed her head in thought, her mind whirling like Bo’s wooden top. “Conjecture,” she whispered. “We need proof.”
“I will look. You do the same.” The church bells rang, and Dominus cringed. “How on earth do men get anything done when all they do is pray?”
Overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, Mamie asked, “How will I reach you?”
“Leave a signal here—a ribbon or something. I will find you.” He stopped before her, lifting her chin and tilting her face up so she was forced to meet his gaze. Very slowly, deliberately, he leaned in and kissed her.
She jolted at the contact, uncertain but wanting. Need curled up from her belly as she savored the warm press of his lips. Mamie sighed and leaned in for more. Then she pulled back. The church bells rang again.
“What?” he asked, his mouth hovering over hers. “I am no Templar.”
“No.” She lowered her gaze, shielding her vulnerable heart. “You still have Meggie and a family.”
“But—”
“Go. Before you lose something else to Bartholomew.” She touched his fringe of blond curls. “I will keep your secret for now, Knight. Hurry, or Everard will be punished on your behalf.”
After stealing one last kiss, Dominus left. Mamie waited, rubbing a thumb across her swollen lower lip. She imagined being in his arms would be a rare treat. Rare because it could not happen. She did not break up families. No, she kept them together, and then they asked her to leave. Unwanted.
How best to protect Eleanor against Raymond’s plans? Mamie left the trees and walked carefully down the path. Relying on memory, she made her way toward the courtyard but stopped at the top of the hill as she heard Eleanor and Louis in a heated conversation.
“I want you to help my uncle,” Eleanor demanded.
“I told you that I cannot in good conscience do that.”
“Your soul,” Eleanor drawled.
“And yours too, Eleanor. Vitry weighs heavy. They were your people. Innocents, trapped in a church and burned. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“It was war. A battle. One does not dwell on such things.”
“I do not have your ability to let my feelings go. God has not judged this pilgrimage kindly, and I would rectify this before it is too late.”
“I will not leave with you in ten days, Louis,” Eleanor said.
“When, then? How much time do you need? Odo said we can be ready in a week.”
“Never.”
Stuck on the hill, Mamie hoped her gasp went unheard. Her heart ached at what was being destroyed below her. Please stop.
“What are you saying?” Louis said.
Mamie dared to inch closer. What was Eleanor doing?
“I believe we should help Raymond take over Edessa.” Eleanor’s voice rose with excitement. “Imagine, you can change the way historians will view this pilgrimage! Do what we set out to do—save Edessa. Gain control. Let my uncle take over—he can keep Nur ad-Din out.”
“And you say this as if you do not believe I can.”
“You do not want control of Edessa.” She paused. “Do you? You are king already, but if you wanted—”
“Eleanor, Edessa has a prince already. Jocelyn. It would not be given to Raymond.”
“Jocelyn could not keep the city from the Turks. Why should Raymond give it back?”
“There are times when I fear you have ice in your veins instead of the warm blood of a woman. Where is your compassion?”
“Compassion!”
Mamie winced at the queen’s wounded tone.
“Yes. What you feel for your fellow man as they are hurting.”
“I know what it means, Louis.”
This was not good. Mamie wished she could make them stop before their private conversation went too far.
But she could. Just as she was ready to break a branch to let them know she was coming, Fay clapped loudly, shouting as if chased by tigers.
Mamie stopped, just out of sight, watching as Eleanor and Louis faced off over a small table, their letter to their daughter between them.
Fay squealed, running through the grass, a look of terror on her face. “Is it gone?”
“What?” Eleanor asked, standing to look.
Louis, too, rose to his feet.
“The rat! There was a rat the size of a pony. In the bathhouse.”
“The bathhouse?” Louis asked, obviously noticing Fay’s fully clothed state.
“I wanted to bathe.” She sniffed. “And it was there —whiskers twitching. I hate rats. They eat your toes, you know.”
“I did not,” Louis said, angry and suspicious.
Now what? Keeping the royal pair from killing one another took some ingenuity. Mamie slipped off her shoes and stripped off her stockings, quickly putting her shoes back on. “Fay, you dropped your stocking along the way,” Mamie said, walking quickly down the hill. She kept her hem over her shoes. “It was not close enough to bite.”
“A rat?” Louis looked around the ground, then at Mamie. “Really?”
“Fay hates rats more than she hates the water.”
Eleanor shivered. “I am done here anyway. I will seal the letter, Louis.”
“Eleanor,” he said. “Wait.”
“Rats,” Fay added, insistent. “Everywhere.”
“Hmm,” the queen said, as if finally understanding.
Mamie realized what Fay meant as she noticed Thierry in the bushes behind them all. Which meant Odo or perhaps a servant of Raymond was around as well.
“Louis, come to my chamber after supper. Perhaps I will feel in a kinder mood after food and drink. We do have so much to discuss, and I would do so in private.”
He nodded and left without word to any of them.
Mamie’s heart went out to him. A good man, unprepared for the cruelties in the world. The Crusade had made him stronger. But strong enough to face the queen?
Eleanor had no patience left for his piety, not when she was so obviously comparing Louis to her uncle.
Mamie and Fay followed Eleanor to their room.
“A rat?” Eleanor said the instant the door was closed.
“What?” Fay dropped her hands to her sides. “You were surrounded by eavesdroppers and talking about things that should never be said except in whispers in the dark. In a locked room. You are the Queen of France.”
The queen put the writing trunk on the floor and kicked it to the side. “You do not need to remind me who I am.”
Fay, not at all intimidated, said, “I do. You are behaving like a woman without duties or responsibilities.”
Eleanor exhaled. “I do not want to be Queen of France. I want to be Queen of Edessa.”
Mamie gasped.
Shaking, Fay said, “I knew it. I knew something else was going on. What did Raymond promise you?”
“Stand down, Fay.”
“I will not. My duty is to protect you, and you are making errors that I cannot fix. What did he promise you?”
“Queenship of Edessa. Why not? With my vassals, I could hold the city against the Turks easily.”
“And?”
Eleanor flushed while Mamie watched sweet Fay drag their queen over the coals.
“More land for Aquitaine.”
“You don’t go there as it is. It is bigger than France!”
“I do not like the way you are speaking to me, Cuz.”
“You are embarrassing me with the way you are behaving.”
The two women stared at one another while Mamie watched, speechless. Finally, she said, “Wine? I know I could use some.”
Fay nodded first, then Eleanor.
Mamie poured and handed them each a goblet. She suggested a toast. “To us. The queen and her guards.”
The tension eased enough that they were each able to take a swallow.
“I wish you would be more careful. You are not meant to rule Edessa. You already agreed to be the Queen of France. I am sorry that your husband does not excite you with talk of battle and victory. I know your roots. I know what you gave up.” Fay leaned her forehead into the queen’s. “But you did give it up. For power.”
“To keep Aquitaine safe,” Eleanor said. “I was a girl. Fifteen. My father had just died. What was I to do?”
“Louis was there to save you. You made a brilliant match. Do not let Odo and Thierry block you from getting your opinion heard. It is not right that you should rule alone or that Louis should. Together, you are a powerful team.”
“He does not listen to me.” Eleanor let two tears slide down her cheeks before she lifted her chin.
“You had his ear this afternoon, and you chose to make a stand instead of talk. You told him you would never go with him. How is he supposed to react? Odo heard you.”
“And Thierry,” Mamie said. “He was in the bushes.”
Eleanor sighed. “I just got caught in the moment—”
“Which is why you have us at your side,” Fay said softly. “Please let us help you. We can ease the way.”
“Toward what? I am not happy. Seeing Raymond and Constance, in love . . . They are happy. I am miserable.”
“You are having an adventure to see you through the rest of your days.”
“This will not be the last adventure I have,” Eleanor declared with a shiver. “I will not mold and rot in Paris, Fay. I promise you that.”
“I did not say anything about rotting. Why must you be so extreme?” Fay paced, taking big strides, her light brown hair a cape behind her.
Mamie stood by the connecting doors in their suite. Larissa was not in the room. Where was she? If she was smart, perhaps hiding under the bed.
Remembering her conversation with Dominus, she asked, “What does Raymond really want from you?”
Eleanor turned to Mamie with a stricken look. “What do you mean?”
Treading carefully, as if walking on an iced-over pond, Mamie said, “What does he want—exactly? Your vassals? The division of you and the king? Or is it best for him if you persuade Louis to come with you to Edessa? How far is he willing to go? And you—what are you willing to give up?”
Cheeks flushed, Eleanor set down her goblet and shook out her hands. “I think you both are reacting in a foul way to something honorable. My uncle is a man of power. He is only asking for the aid that was pledged by Bishop Clairvaux at the beginning of this. Do you remember, ladies? How we rallied the people to sign up?”
Mamie nodded. “We were glorious. White horses, red-and-white cloaks, bells, and feathers,” she said soberly. “King Louis must feel he is in his right as sovereign to come back for Edessa later. He has never once said he would forget about it. Only that Jerusalem needed to come first.”
“Once we reach Jerusalem, there will be no coming back. I know it”—Eleanor patted her heart—“in here. He will listen to the others and be swayed.”
“He has been true,” Fay argued.
“Louis is the king, and he can do what he likes. But a host of other countries joined us in this pilgrimage—and it was to save Edessa.” The queen pounded a fist against an open palm. “Louis changed his mind.”
“Does Bishop Clairvaux support the change?” Mamie asked.
“I am not certain he knows.”
Mamie wondered if this was the news Dominus was supposed to report back to the bishop. She tried very hard not to think about their kiss under the olive tree.
“Before you decide to ally yourself with your uncle over your husband, perhaps we should let him know.”
“Fay, you are being cruel.” Eleanor wiped her eyes. “I love Louis but not in the passionate way of lovers.”
“It is years too late for you to change your mind,” Fay said, her voice rough. “Passion is for new love, for non-royal personages. Remember what happened when your sister decided passion was more important. People died.”
“You and Louis are stuck on Vitry. It is over—and has been.”
“At what cost?” Fay asked, her eyes intense.
“This is not the same.”
Mamie sighed. “I cannot believe that I am the one to ask this, but what about the pope?”
“The clergy are not here, in the trenches, to see what needs to be done. Jocelyn was weak, and he let the Turks in. I would not; Raymond would not! Think of this, ladies: all of Outremer could be ruled by one man, a man of my house. We have the skill and strength to do it.”
“And Constantinople?” Mamie asked, fearing the answer.
“Raymond has no love for Manuel. Neither do I.”
“You have lost your mind,” Fay whispered.
“No. I am thinking over every possibility. I have a destiny.”
“I wish you would think again,” Mamie said, pouring more wine. “I do not think this is what was meant by making a decision that would change history.”
“Do you know?”
“It is a feeling, just like the feeling I had before.” Not tangible.
“My decision to join Raymond and take over Outremer would change the world.” Eleanor took the bottle and drained the last few drops in her cup.
“True.” Mamie thought hard, going with the facts as she knew them. “But your destiny is not here.”
“My uncle has promised me sanctuary for as long as I want it. With or without Louis.”