A Flame Run Wild (20 page)

She set up watch outside Alexandre's inn. When he emerged with Lisle, she followed them at a safe distance down to the harbor. There the pair stood for some time looking out over the bustling harbor, watching the dockworkers load the ships for debarkation at dawn. After the two men parted, Alexandre continued alone to a dockside inn which specialized in spicy couscous. Liliane waited until he left the inn at nightfall, then followed him into the winding street that led back to his lodging. The streets were still crowded, and at an intersection, Liliane pointed out Alexandre to Kiki, jingled the money in her coin pouch and let her go. Kiki scampered off through the crowd and in minutes was back with Alexandre's pouch. Liliane swept the monkey up onto her shoulder, then strode off after Alexandre. She had to trot two street lengths to catch him. Although Alexandre had not seen the culprit, he had felt the pouch go and was feasting about for the thief. Liliane approached him as he followed a suspicious-looking pair up a side alley.

"
Effendi
, " she called softly, "I must speak with you."

Without stopping, Alexandre shot her an impatient look. "I told you, take your case to
Melek
Richard. Now, begone."

"I believe yours is the trouble,
effendi
. " She shot a glance ahead at the two characters who had now turned with unpleasant interest. "A matter of a pouch."

Alexandre, also noticing the pair ahead, halted. "Not here. Come with me."

They retreated, the ruffians following. Alexandre headed up another alley, then, nodding to Lilian to take a shadowed doorway, pressed himself into the shadowy recesses of the one opposite. Kiki scampered up onto a crumbling balustrade. The two ruffians, their knives drawn, entered the alley.

Liliane's heart began to pound. Only once had she been faced with the prospect of killing a man. A Moorish raiding party had attacked a band of Diego's castellans with whom she had been riding to Cadiz. As Diego had not been present to protect her, she soon realized why he had taken the precaution of teaching her to protect herself. The castellans had been outnumbered, the fight brief but vicious. Although beaten off, the raiders had driven away two mules loaded with supplies, and they might have taken her as well to please their amir. She had been terrified and clumsy in the fighting, but she had learned never to merely injure an opponent; doing so had nearly gotten her strangled. She learned that killing was the best defense.

Now, when the moment came in the Massilia alley, her knife did in neatly under the scoundrel's fifth rib without a sound. Her hunter was dead before he knew that his game had reversed. Alexandre dispassionately wiped his own knife on the other thug. "Now, what about the pouch?"

Liliane swallowed hard, not looking at the dead men. "Shall I explain in a less compromising spot,
effendi
?"

Alexandre nodded grimly. He led Liliane to his inn and waved to a table in the common room. Liliane sat gratefully, her knees still weak. The killing had been so quick, so quiet ... so horribly impersonal. "Brandywine?" Alexandre asked, probably noticing that she was pale under her brown face stain.

Liliane declined his offer. "My habits are still Moslem,
effendi
."

"And eminently practical in a hot climate." Alexandre waved away the innkeeper approaching with a bottle of his best rotgut. "So. You are. . ."

"Jefar el din."

"And what do you have to tell me?"

For answer, Liliane dropped his pouch of gold on the table. Kiki chattered excitedly.

In an instant, the pouch disappeared under Alexandre's cloak. His voice came hard. "Where did you get it?"

"I noticed two men, not the ones we dispatched, following you. I thought they meant mischief but they passed into a brothel. At that point, a boy picked your pocket and I sent Kiki to relieve him of his booty. Unfortunately, in that time, you had fixed on the pair in the alley."

With skeptical perusal of Kiki, Alexandre took a couple of coins from the pouch.

"No,
effendi
. I do not want your money."

"See here," Alexandre said quietly. "Whatever your pet's part in this, I will not admit you to my banner. With all respect, I have fought Saracens too long to relish one at my back in battle ... or in the street. You handle yourself well. You will find a place . . . but not with me." He rose and pushed the coins across the table. "Take the gold and Allah give you luck."

"Keep your gold,
effendi
," Liliane replied coolly. "I do not kill for pay but to survive. Honor also can be a luxury." She lifted Kiki to her shoulder. "May you have a safe passage to Palestine."

With narrowed eyes, Alexandre watched Jefar el din leave. Something was very familiar about this Berber fellow with his proud, graceful carriage and walk. He was not quite effeminate, but the use of his hands . . . Alexandre could not pin down his memories. He certainly did not believe the street tale. The Berber had probably put the monkey up to nipping his money just to make another try at joining the army. Moors were masters of deceit and particularly enjoyed gulling infidels. Yet . . . there was something steady about Jefar el din. He had noticed the Berber's distaste at being obliged to kill the thug, yet he had done so without quailing. He was determined, too, with none of the false obsequiousness many Moors practiced on Europeans they privately despised. Alexandre had a feeling that he would run into Jefar el din again.

Liliane spent the night on one of the troop ships. Deciding that the ship would be cleaner and cheaper than one of the local stews, she showed her army admission to the shipmaster who could not read and bribed him to let her aboard. She and Kiki burrowed under the bow among the stow of canvas, where they slept soundly until the first soldiers boarded at dawn. She had been discouraged when Alexandre had proven unyielding the night before, and she was horrified to hear him board the ship. There were three ships and he had to pick hers! Muffling Kiki's chatter, she burrowed deeper into the bow and kicked the canvas aft so that no attention would be drawn to her when the crew hoisted sail. Curling up, she pulled her
haik
over her head and covered Kiki so that they appeared to be a bundle of stowage. Preoccupied with seeing a hundred men, their gear, and horses being properly stowed to keep the ship balanced, Alexandre took no notice of her. Some time went by before the ships were loaded, due to some of the soldiers' reluctance to board. If the men had not been conscripted, the army would have attracted few volunteers. Almost none of them had been to sea; they feared every calamity, from wild storms to sea monsters. Liliane smiled sympathetically. They would be wretched soon enough without seeing dragons.

With squeaks of wood echoing the many rats scurrying about the hold, the pitch-caulked ships glided into the bustling harbor. At the slap of the water against their hull, Kiki's eyes became wide and frightened, her tiny hands digging into Liliane's arm. Liliane cuddled her and whispered words of comfort she could not share herself. Already very fond of the little monkey, she was unwilling to leave her behind to be starved and used badly by her former master. Kiki could learn virtue as well as vice, but meanwhile her current versatility might prove useful.

Liliane peeked out at the soldiers huddled in the creaking ships. Although the sun had just risen, they were sweating and miserable with fear. She was startled to see that Alexandre was white as a sheet in the stem. He looked less afraid than ill, and with dismay she realized that he was going to be seasick before they were beyond the harbor.

She was right. Five minutes out, Alexandre was retching over the side along with three other men. More soldiers were turning green from the heaving swells. With a sigh, Liliane settled down to wait until the next morning. They were nearly a day's sail from land before she crawled back to Alexandre. He was weak, parched and utterly miserable. She fished in her medical sack for herbs and ground them into her bowl with water from her flask; then she helped him sit up. His eyelids fluttered as she held the brew to his lips. "You!" he whispered hoarsely. "I ought to haul you back!"

"We are too far out now," she assured him calmly. "Besides, I have my papers. I have joined Count Lisle's banner. Drink this; you will feel better."

He eyed the bowl suspiciously, then, at its stench, looked as if he would be sick again.

"Come,
effendi
, do not be foolish; the bowl does not contain poison to keep you from causing me trouble in Acre. Once there, I will fight Saladin whether King Philip keeps me or not. If you are too stubborn to accept my help now, you will feel like mule dung for the duration of the voyage."

Alexandre drank the stinking brew. He silently vowed to hang the Berber by his thumbs later.

Through that day and most of the next, Liliane felt Alexandre's bloodshot eyes on her as she attended the men. His stare became even more intent when once she caught herself from falling overboard as the ship pitched and rolled. She realized that when they landed in Acre, she had better get out of his reach until his temper cooled considerably.

Unfortunately, Alexandre's temper did not wait until Acre to explode, but only until the ship's passengers were asleep. One of the four aboard who did not become seasick, Liliane was peacefully sleeping in her spot near the bow when a hard hand closed about her throat and another over her mouth. Her eyes flying open, she uttered a muffled, terrified squeak. "I am going to strangle you," a low, furious voice muttered from the darkness. "Then I am going to keelhaul you and twist your scheming little head off!" A hand shifted and Alexandre's mouth came down in a brief but forceful kiss.

"How did you know?" Liliane gasped when his mouth lifted.

In answer, Alexandre grabbed a strand of blond hair escaping her
haik
and flattened it across her nose. "The sun is fading your stain, and when you lose your balance, you catch it like a woman," he hissed. "What the hell are you doing here!"

"You need me!" she whispered back. "Do you suppose Louis and Jacques are going to let you sail home in glory?"

"I can take care of my own ass, merci! How do you think I managed without you for twenty-odd years?" He let out another exasperated oath. "You
shived
a hulk in Massilia,
par Dieu!
How did you spend your childhood? Slitting your dolls' throats!"

"That ruffian was after me,'' she retorted, then held her breath as a nearby sleeper stirred, "not the other way around. Diego did not want to leave me helpless in the world so . . ."

"So he taught you gutter fighting." Alexandre grabbed his hair with Gallic fervor. "Helpless? He turned you into a little monster!"

At that, Liliane went cold. Hurt filled her heart, closing out whatever else Alexandre was saying. The worst she had feared was happening. Alexandre thought her unnatural; she was no longer a woman to him—certainly not his love that he expected to wait quietly at home for him so that he could fantasize about her in pastoral peace. Silently, she tucked her hair away, pulled her
haik
across her face, then curled away from him.

Alexandre was quiet now and she could feel him staring at her. The drowsing Kiki pushed into her neck, and her tears were wet against the monkey's soft fur.

Alexandre touched her shoulder. "Liliane, I am sorry." He was silent for a moment. "I did not mean for my outburst to be so unfair. If you were a man, I should have praised your courage and skill. As it is, all I can think of is the danger you risk, that you could have been killed by that street thug and that you have been venturing alone about those foul Massilia streets." His grip tightened. "I appreciate your concern for me, but the army camp at Acre will not only be exposed to the risks of war, but be teeming with disease and hardened womenless men. I should worry far more about those threats to you than any from Jacques."

"You do not know him as I do," Liliane muttered. "You must not know me very well, either." He nuzzled her neck. "Enjoy your sea voyage, darling, because the moment we reach Acre, you are going to embark upon another voyage home." But home is with you, Liliane thought stubbornly. Alexandre settled down to sleep with his back against hers. Although he scarcely moved until morning, she sensed that he was wide awake.

For the rest of the voyage, except for sleeping near her at night, Alexandre was careful not to pay undue attention to her. She suspected that his reticence was as much due to not wanting to alert the other men as to his lingering shock and dismay at her presence. Aware that she was causing him a very real problem, she would have given much to ease it, but she was not prepared to return to France. Jacques was wickedly patient and Louis was relentless. Better for Alexandre to endure injured pride than a terminally injured skull.

Yet, oh, how keenly she felt Alexandre's disapproval! She longed to curl up next to him and have him put his arms around her. He might Hank her brave and resolute, but she felt like a nervous mouse when she thought of the street thugs. The idea of seeing war at close hand filled her with dread. She had been lonely as Jefar el din for she dared not risk discovery by exchanging more than a few sentences with anyone. Alexandre's quick penetration of her disguise made her feel vulnerable. When unrecognized, she had foolishly envisioned herself as his guardian angel, which lent closeness to their relationship. Now he knew her identity and his anger isolated her.