Chapter Twenty-Four

Catherine had awoken that morning with a grin so wide it made her cheeks ache. Now it was noon, and the smile remained.

Sarah brought her horse next to Catherine’s. “Well, what did you think of your quick ceremony in the middle of nowhere, with sweaty soldiers as your guests of honor?”

It could have been Sarah and Jonathon’s wedding. Catherine refrained from sharing that fact. “Roasted hare by a large fire, sleeping in a blanket within the confines of the caravan, surrounded by friends? Hardly romantic, but I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

It had felt like a family celebration. She brushed away the sad thought that she might never see her real family again.

“I can imagine at least ten better ways to spend an evening. Although”—Sarah softened her tone—“the sunset was magnificent. God’s blessing, perhaps?”

“That is a lovely thought.” Catherine stretched her back, wiggling her shoulders to loosen the kinks. It had been fairly flat traveling, without the familiar steep ups and downs of the mountains. “I didn’t realize Laodicea was so far inland. I miss the smell of the sea.”

“I think it’s odd the Turks are still following us.”

Catherine’s smile slipped, and she looked around. The Lycus River flowed through the brown winter fields. Sparse trees dotted the occasional hill. In the far distance, she could see a cluster of men on horseback. Were they wearing turbans? Her stomach tightened.

“How long have they been there?” Catherine asked, sitting tall. Alert.

“Not very long.” Sarah pushed a tendril of hair from her face.

Catherine put her hand on the hilt of her sword, preparing for whatever was to come. She looked back and saw Gaston riding with Jacques in their position on the inside line of de Montfer’s knights.

Payen rode up and down the rows, ensuring the safety of the vanguard and the queen. Magnificent, the way he sat on his stallion, the way the late December sun haloed his dark hair, the ease with which he took control. He too observed the group of men on horses.

When Payen came around on his patrol, she beckoned him. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

He brought his horse close to her on the opposite side of Sarah. The road was plenty wide for them to ride six horses across. Payen glanced around, then said in a low voice, “The Turks have been harassing the rear guard, something out of character since we are so close to a Christian city. It’s as if they don’t have a reason to fear the consequences. Remember what Louis said about the emir warning we had no friends?”

Catherine exhaled, absorbing the information and the implications. “Emperor Manuel promised this city would be open to us to purchase provisions and relay messages.”

“And Manuel has been so stalwart in his word?”

“Non.” She shivered as if ghostly fingers tickled her nape. “I have an awful feeling about this.”

“I do too, and I am not prone to feelings. I will talk with the queen.” He moved his horse toward the front of the line. “We could camp on top of that hill there instead of going directly inside the city. It would give us a view of what’s happening behind the walls.”

“Wait for me to speak with Queen Eleanor.” She guided her mare to follow Payen’s stallion.

Payen made a space for her.

Eleanor turned as they cantered toward her. “We are almost there.” She noticed their serious expressions and slowed her mount. “What is it?”

“As you know, the Turks have been pestering the rear guard.”

The queen waved a hand dismissively.

“And we have been shadowed by small groups of mounted warriors,” Payen continued. “They are brave when they should be afraid of the Laodiceans coming to our aid. Which makes me wonder if perhaps we have no assistance. Trapped between the city walls, with the Turks attacking. Like sheep to slaughter.”

Eleanor shuddered.

The captain entered the conversation. “What do you recommend?” he said in a gruff voice.

“I suggest we take the top of that hill.” Payen pointed to the left. “We can protect our caravan while shooting the heathens if they get too close.”

The captain nodded, then looked to the queen.

Eleanor said, “Send a scout to the hill. Come back with a report. Catherine, send Fay and Mamie to the rear guard and apprise the king. Have him hurry his people so we aren’t spread out.” She shielded her eyes against the sun. “We should all be on that hill within an hour. Just past one.”

Catherine nodded.

“And what if we can’t get inside the city?” the captain dared to ask. “Our men are starving.”

Queen Eleanor looked down her nose at the man, who nervously backed his horse up a step. Her voice was steel as she replied, “We have a child in need of medicine, not to mention we are dangerously low on coin. I am perfectly aware of our situation.”

“My apologies,” the captain said, red faced.

After this many months traveling with the queen, he should have known better. Eleanor knew what everyone needed.

“Have you sent the scout yet?” Eleanor said.

“I’m going now.” The captain turned his horse, making his way to the very front of the line.

“Catherine, I have a wedding gift for you. Once we stop, I can find where I put it.” With that, she rode toward the front, de Montfer following.

The queen had a gift for her? In the midst of danger? Catherine shook her head, hearing Gaston’s cough. If only the gift were willow bark.

She quickly found the ladies of the guard and sent them on their way before riding next to Jacques.

Gaston rode on the back of the horse, his expression solemn. “Is it true the queen doesn’t have any money?”

“How did you hear that conversation?”

Jacques gulped. “We heard from right here,” the squire said, obviously uncomfortable. “She didn’t lower her voice.”

The queen was likely making a point. One does not question one’s liege.

“We are all fine,” Catherine said. “Kings and queens are rich. What the queen meant is that she was hoping Laodicea would have a money changer.”

“And will there be food?” Gaston said.

“We will manage. Even if I have to hunt down a wild boar.” She patted her sword. “Gaston, you might have to sharpen some more sticks for me, but I will do it. I promised you I would care for you.” Catherine nodded, her heart lightening at his answering smile.

She would miss him when he went to Rome.

At last, they reached the base of the hill. The river ran through a small forest to the right. Up and beyond the mound sat Laodicea. To the left, the brown plain. Catherine urged her horse upward, wanting to see the city for herself.

When they reached the top, she and Payen left their horses with the boys and overlooked the area below.

“There are very few people about. No bustling market.” He pointed to the brownish river. “The only activity is on the docks.”

“Gaston needs medicine. Surely we can buy some from one of the ship merchants.”

“I am in need of a moneylender too. I lost my coin in the flood.”

They had to get into Laodicea. While she could not part with the necklace, she could sell her armor or her dagger . . .

“Payen. Catherine.”

They each turned toward the king’s voice.

Louis walked next to Eleanor, who had discarded her helmet. “De Montfer, I have a monumental mission for you.”

“Of course.” Payen bowed to the king, then the queen.

“This will be your first foray ambassador to the crown.” The king waved toward the practically empty city. “Find the governor. Come back with a full report.”

“How is that different from what I already do for you?” Payen said, the only sign he teased being the slight twitch of his mouth.

Catherine studied both men, realizing the truth of their strong friendship. “This time, you go as Baron—what was it again? Never mind. I want to know how many ships have supplies.”

“I remember what questions to ask.” Payen didn’t look at her.

“I trust you,” King Louis said without a trace of whimsy.

Payen probably thought he didn’t need her help. But he did. They were married now. She cleared her throat loudly.

“Oh, and take your lovely wife. Eleanor insists that women see things men don’t. I’ve found her views somewhat enlightening but mostly frustrating,” he said to Catherine before returning his gaze to Payen. “Perhaps you will fare better.”

Eleanor coughed, and Louis turned to her with a wink. “Mon cher, I forgot you were there.”

“You forgot to tell them the real quest, the reason behind the hurried vows.”

“I hoped to gather more information,” the king said. A slight breeze ruffled his blond hair, and Eleanor reached to smooth it.

“You were hoping to delay the departure of your friend. The decision has already been made.” Eleanor shook her finger but then took Louis’s hand. “You can rely on me to be your helpmate.” Taking a deep breath, Eleanor told Catherine and Payen, “We have received confirmation that Emperor Manuel has betrayed us. As you can see, Laodicea is empty. The town will have a few stalls, choice merchants who will offer goods for an exorbitant amount, knowing we have to pay or risk dying as we cross toward Attalia.”

“So why would you send me to see the governor?” Payen said. “Do you think he is really there?”

“Non,” Louis admitted. “Eleanor was right. I stalled, hating to see you go.”

“Go where?” Catherine heard the slightest rise in Payen’s voice.

“Oui.” Catherine’s heart beat rapidly. “Where?” Where were they sending her husband now that they were wed? If they were going to separate them, why bother forcing a marriage?

“I see what you are thinking, Catherine, and we wanted you married not only because you love each other but because we are sending you both to the pope. The hypocrite frowns on fornication outside of marriage.” Eleanor gazed at her as if what she was saying was ordinary rather than remarkable.

“I don’t understand.”

“The pope?” Payen stepped closer to Catherine.

“Pope Eugene III must control Manuel, or we will not live to see the end of this crusade.” Eleanor held tightly to King Louis’s hand as she spoke. “Hector has been feeding the pope lies against us, so it is imperative that we send our ambassadors, you and Payen, to Rome, where you can plead on our behalf. Our large army has to eat, and if the cities are closed to us, we will starve.”

“Why will he listen to us?” Catherine asked, though she knew.

“Because you will bring him his long, lost grandson.”

Catherine accepted that Bernardo had been a priest with manly tastes. Tastes his philandering priest son Roberto had inherited. And what would come of the grandson? Somebody should tell Gaston not to bother with the priesthood. “How will we get to Rome?”

“The Lycus leads to the sea. Take a barge or ship or swim. But you must get to Rome immediately. If the heathens attack and we are outnumbered, the boy must live to redeem us all.”

“We have no coin,” Catherine said, ignoring the heat of the necklace at her throat. Was she to spend the rest of her life hovering over the flames of hell? Despite her hardships to find him peace, would Ragenard never rest? She’d left him there at his family home, with his brother’s murdered body. She bowed her head, blinking away the tears.

“Most of my jewels are paste,” Eleanor admitted. “We have need of a moneylender. We were hoping . . .” She gestured toward the empty city.

“What we all were hoping,” Payen said.

Catherine lifted her head and wiped her eyes, accepting once and for all that fate led her away from the direction she thought to go. Jerusalem. Absolution. No more being a fool.

“We can use the necklace. The gold should be able to buy us safe passage, a change of clothes, food, and medicine.” She slipped the chain from around her neck. “If I give you the diamond, my liege, will you ask the priests to pray on behalf of Ragenard and George?”

Odd how the necklace cooled.

Payen put his hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry, Catherine. We can come back . . .”

Eleanor shook her head. “Keep the diamond. I will make sure the Clemont brothers are raised high in God’s sight. And you can ask the pope for absolution yourself. No doubt, he will offer a boon for the return of his kin.”

Catherine didn’t understand how bringing an esteemed church leader proof of his youthful perfidy would endear them all, but she would have to find a way to do the queen’s bidding. “Thank you.”

“Oh!” Eleanor rooted through the small pouch where she withdrew a small missive. “My wedding gift to you.” She handed the folded parchment over, placing it in Catherine’s palm with a loving squeeze. “From your family.”

Catherine’s knees buckled, and she found herself kneeling before the queen, tears in her eyes as she accepted the folded paper with the A embossed on the wax, the seal broken.

“Who is A?”

“Remember Lady Abigail? She carried a letter to your family, asking if they would be amenable to a reunion with their daughter, who had been serving me quite well for the past year since the death of her husband. As you can read, they love you very much, Catherine. When it is time for you to go home, they will welcome you with open arms.”

Timid Lady Abigail, paying a debt owed to the queen on Catherine’s behalf. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“Get Gaston to Rome.”

Payen focused on the task at hand. If he were to look at the entire plan, he would recognize a fool’s errand. This way, he could take the pieces and work them until something fit. He led Catherine past beggars inhabiting the least desirable part of town. A few braver thieves threatened, but Payen patted his much larger sword, and they fell back into the shadows.

“I don’t understand why we are sneaking into Laodicea without the boys,” Catherine whispered. She wore her heavy brown cloak over brown chausses and a plain, too-large tunic she’d foraged. The king, realizing they would not get far dressed in French blue and gold, had given Payen one of his own outfits to wear. Excellent quality but boring brown.

She looked at him. “We should get all of our things and leave together. You usually have a logical way about you, but this just doesn’t make sense. Did you not hear the urgency in the queen’s voice?”

“Catherine,” Payen answered as patiently as he could, “trust me.”

They reached an outdoor area with a few merchants demanding outrageous prices. Payen, talking to the moneylender in fluent Greek, let him assume he and Catherine had come in from the river.

He looked back at Catherine, who waited a distance behind, then spoke to the merchant. “Tell me, where are all the people?”

“The Franks are outside the city, with their army.” The man sneered. “As if that matters to us! Our governor made a bargain with the Turks, the same as he did when the Germans attempted to come through. He would lock the city and split the profits with the heathens. Our people are hiding the goods in the mountains until the Franks leave.”

Payen forced a laugh. He needed to relay the message to King Louis before they left for Rome. He thanked the man, despite the high prices and the putrid news.

“What did he say?” Catherine said once they were away from the table. “I don’t like him.”

“King Louis was right. The queen was right. The Turks plan to attack. The city won’t open the gates.” He led the way through the maze of streets, finding the willow bark they needed and a loaf of bread.

“Should we buy some for the queen?” Catherine said, holding the dear coins to her chest.

“We can’t carry food back for everyone.” It seemed cruel, but it was true. “The boys need food. Don’t think about anything else.”

He heard her sniff, but she kept up with him as they made their way to the docks. Payen was surprised when she handled the negotiation of the fare herself. He was especially proud of her for not once touching her sword or threatening to lop off the stubborn captain’s head. The man finally agreed to accept half now and half upon their return.

“You have an hour, or I lose the tide. If you aren’t here, I keep your money,” the barge captain said with a grin. “It is a profit for me either way.”

“We will be here,” Catherine promised, then turned to Payen. “We have to go. Now.”

“Calm down. We will make it back in time.” Payen felt her anxiety but thought it out of proportion for the situation. He held her hand as they ran back through the maze and the hole in the city wall.

“Gaston needs us. Don’t argue! Don’t offer reason. He needs us. I wish we had our horses.” She clutched his arm.

“We won’t be able to take them with us on the barge either,” he said, saddened at the realization. He would bestow the black stallion upon one of his men or gift the beast to the king.

“The horses don’t matter. Hurry.”

They crawled out of the hole and scrambled up the hill, out of sight and safe. They reached the top, out of breath.

He felt her worry, accepted it. She had feelings, something to love about her.

He searched the crowded camp for the boys.

“There, by the king. Jacques.” Catherine rested a hand on her chest.

Payen strode across the dirt.

His squire listened intently as the king talked war strategies.

“Where is Gaston?” His voice came out sounding harsher than normal, and he cleared his throat.

Jacques pulled away from where the king was talking. “I thought he was with you. I haven’t seen him since morning.”

Usually when Jacques wouldn’t meet his eyes, he was guilty of something.

“What were you doing?”

Jacques turned bright red.

“Well?” Payen pressed. They had no time for games.

“We argued about how sometimes soldiers earned money by raiding the corpses.”

Payen frowned. “How did that come up? I don’t approve of that kind of behavior.”

“The other squires talked about it. The Turks left the German bodies they massacred to rot in the woods. You can see them.”

“Where?”

Jacques walked to the other side of the hill and pointed down. Sure enough, there were bodies and a man with golden-brown hair, a distinguished nose he remembered from Catherine’s sketch. How could it be? Ragenard among the other dead bodies?

He turned to Jacques, his skin prickling. “Pack our things, only what you can carry. We must leave. Now.”

“Leave?”

The king, alerted by Jacques’s loud question, quickly walked over to the two of them. “What is the matter, de Montfer?”

He yearned to race down the hill and discover the face beneath that head of hair. Instead, he released the breath he held. In calm tones he said, “We have passage on a barge leaving the dock in less than an hour. You were right about the city. The Turks plan to attack you, and the city will remain closed. The Turks and Greek rebels will split the profit.”

“The horseflesh they capture will bring money. Slaves? I won’t surrender. We will put up a fight and win the day. Never fear on that account.” He nodded. “Send word as soon as you reach Rome. To Antioch. Eleanor will get us to her uncle if she has to sprout wings and fly.”

“Care for my stallion?” It wasn’t good-bye forever. Just for now.

The king nodded, and Payen turned on his heel.

Where was Catherine? Even more important, where was Ragenard? He would put an end to Catherine’s fears once and for all.