Rose (16 page)

“I never had sisters,” Mamie said. “Is this what it would be like?”

“Worse,” Larissa opined.

Fay giggled. “Growing up in Aquitaine with Petronilla and Eleanor and all the cousins was more fun than a country fair.”

“We snuck away to a few of those,” Eleanor said fondly.

“I learned how to do my somersaults and flips there.” Fay dropped the skirt. “Naked, at first.”

Mamie gasped in delight.

Eleanor held her stomach and laughed deep. “Oh, dear. I remember. You were so determined to learn how to do it, and you tore your dress. So you took it off. Then you tore your undergown, so that went too. Twelve, weren't we? And you a stick figure. You've got curves now, at least.”

“Not much,” Fay said with scorn. “Mamie's the one with curves.”

“I cannot do a somersault.” Mamie shook her head at the thought. “Especially naked. Dear God.”

“Yes. Split skirts,” Eleanor decided. “I would like to have you dressed as my official guard, even if there are just the two of you. I trust you with my life.” She smiled at each of them. “And you have proven your loyalty again and again.”

Mamie nodded. “Constance gave us crimson-and-white capes. Boots, everything?”

Eleanor clapped. “
Oui
. You know how I adore the pageantry,
and this will most likely be the only opportunity for me to show you off without tweaking Louis's nose.” She bowed her head. “We cannot seem to find mutual ground.”

Hating for the queen to be unhappy, Mamie gave a saucy
wink. “You know best how to make him see your side. He loves you.”

Eleanor snorted. “Odo and Thierry get harder to bypass every
day. But I will think of something. I wonder what God has planned for us. It never seems to be what we think. If it is true and there is magic in Daphne's grove, I might ask a boon.”

“We were talking of prayers last night.” Fay donned the skirt over the chemise and added a lace-up vest that pushed her breasts forward. “Now I have curves.” She laughed.

“And lovely they are,” Mamie said. She got dressed quickly, matching Fay down to the crimson-and-white leggings. “I wish we were performing again.” She lunged with a pretend sword at the bed curtain.

Fay sashayed across the large chamber. “We should practice to keep our skills sharp.”

“We could barely stand aboard the ship,” Mamie lamented. “It took all of our skill just to stay on deck.”

A knock sounded, and Larissa answered. She listened to the servant give his message and then shut the door.

Eleanor leaned against the entrance between the two rooms. “Well?”

“Sir Dominus is at the stables, prepared to wait and to keep on waiting.” Larissa shrugged.

Mamie huffed. “That Templar has a sense of humor hidden behind the white tunic and red cross.”

“What are you talking about?” Eleanor asked.

“Our conversation from last night.” Damn it, her nerves tightened. She'd sworn he'd flirted, which must have been the reason for him in her dreams. He did not belong there.

She felt a great pity for Eve—why was the forbidden fruit the juiciest and most tempting?

Eleanor changed three times before she decided to wear an emerald gown with white fur trim. She chose an emerald the size of her fist for a pendant and the crown Constance had given her the day before. She wore her hair curled loosely beneath a white-and-green silk veil.

“Stunning,” Fay said, sitting on the bed with her feet propped on a stool, examining her fingernails with exaggerated disinterest.

“Fay!” Eleanor said. “This is my first outing in Antioch. As queen. I must look the part.”

“You are the part.”

Eleanor looked to Mamie, obviously vexed.

“Beautiful. Regal. Royal. It is the fur that does it.”

The queen rolled her eyes. “Wonderful.”

“Let us go before Dominus and Everard forget what they are waiting for,” Fay said.

“Fine. But the black boots—”

“Do not match the white accessories. Brown is better. Come.” She took Eleanor's elbow. “Enough already.”

They stopped at the kitchen to pick up the basket they'd had prepared for a light outdoor meal, then easily found the back courtyard and stables. Dominus and Everard jumped up, smiling in greeting.

“We apologize for being so late,” Fay began.

“Non,” Everard said. “I have sisters. I understand.”

Mamie shared a laugh with Dominus. “I did not have sisters,”
Mamie said.

Dominus smiled. “Brothers do not care what they look like before leaving the keep.”

“I did not have a brother either.”

“Well, you have us now,” Fay said. “And siblings require attention.”

“I am glad to have you.” Her life before had been more about the man she was married to and not about herself or her feelings. She'd loved her husbands, but when they'd died, she'd been excised from their families like a tumor.

No more.

She took care of herself now.

“Swords, mesdames?” Everard asked. He gestured between himself and Dominus. “We have promised to be your escort.”

Eleanor spoke to the young knight. “I asked them to come armed with light weaponry. Enemies come in many shapes. The
Turks, with their turbans and curved swords, are easy to identify.
Others are not.”

Betrayal was part of the royal court, as they'd been reminded
during their sojourn through Constantinople. The Emperor had spoken both lies and the truth eloquently.

Mamie stifled a shiver at their narrow escape. “Is that beautiful
golden horse for me?”

“If you like. I found a white mare for the queen,” Dominus said. “I remember it being her favorite.” Mamie nodded. White had been all she'd ridden during the pilgrimage, until the last one died in Laodicea.

Pleased, Eleanor allowed Fay to help. Fay then accepted the reins of a light chestnut. “Much better than the rolling deck of the ship for travel.”

“We will sail back from Jerusalem,” Eleanor cautioned. “Do not foreswear the ocean just yet.”

Mamie stroked her mare's thick mane, scratching behind her ear. Gorgeous brown eyes blinked at her, one dame admiring another as she whisked her tail back and forth. “I love her,” Mamie declared. “What is her name?”

“Bahi,” Dominus answered. “It means beautiful.”

“She knows it, too.” Mamie laughed, leading Bahi to a foot-high mounting stool so she could swing her leg up and over the horse's back.

She cantered next to Eleanor and turned toward the other guard.

Dominus had grown accustomed to the queen's guard riding in split skirts. Everard said nothing, though his eyes widened
as Fay opted against the stool and vaulted atop her horse with no aid, merely putting her hand on his mane and settling astride. She grinned. “Can we race? I feel as if I've been confined and now”—she stretched an arm to the side and lifted her face to the sun—“finally free.”

“Free? Yes. But to race down the road to Daphne?”

Mamie turned toward the man's voice, recognizing Bartholomew. He rode a dark brown horse similar in look and style to Everard's and Dominus's.

“The road was paved by the Romans a thousand years ago. There are holes a horse might snap an ankle on.”

Fay sobered. “I would not dream of hurting an animal.”

“A kind woman.” The Templar wore his crisp white tunic with the red cross, as did the other two knights, but Bartholomew also carried a somber attitude, one hardly conducive to having fun.

Mamie was surprised when he said, “I would like to join you. I would gladly serve as a guide on our way to the grove.”

“Of course! What a wonderful idea,” Eleanor said, bestowing her most gracious smile upon him.

Wondering why the commander of Antioch had joined a party of women, Mamie determined to keep extra vigilant. Did
he watch over them, or was he afraid for the souls of his men? Both were honorable, without the commander threatening hellfire.

“Follow me,” he said and led them down the steep path of Mount Silipius. Bartholomew was a good guide, discussing points of interest without taking over the conversation.

“Daphne was where the affluent Greeks came to rest and enjoy their leisure. Its natural beauty invited the pleasure seekers, and of course, there was a temple built to Apollo, as we spoke of last night.”

“I hear your disapproval.” Mamie would not let the man bring gray skies to what had been planned a pleasant day.

He looked at her and shook his head. “It is not my place to disapprove. I am offering the opinion that the old ways are gone, for good reason. Society without morals or religious structure cannot thrive, which is what happened then and what we guard against now.”

Mamie thought about that for a while, not sure she agreed. Dominus said little, acting more formal than he had before the commander's arrival. They left Antioch by a side gate. There were a few others walking, but the road was mostly deserted. Giant stones paved the way.

“To build something as grand,” Everard said, “that survived over a millennia. The Romans had great architectural abilities.”

“We saw that in the bath house. It makes one feel insignificant,” Fay said.

“Speak for yourself, Cuz,” the queen said with a toss of her hair. “I felt right at home.”

Mamie laughed and glanced at Dominus, noting his brief smile. What would it be like to be the recipient of his goodwill? Sweet Mary, she dreamed of the man and what his mouth might feel like capturing hers in passion—he could keep his goodwill for a kiss such as that.

Bahi, imitating Queen Eleanor, tossed her mane as well.

“Turn here,” Bartholomew said. “Follow this trail to the left. It winds a bit, but go slow. The horses will be fine.”

Oak, olive, and laurel trees provided a garden of shade against the strong Mediterranean sun. Mamie sighed as they went farther into the fecund grove, with green moss and blooming flowers everywhere. The sun peeked through the trees. Before long she heard the sound of rushing water.

“Take care,” Bartholomew said. “The stream weakens the trail.”

They rode in single file behind Bartholomew, with Everard
in the front, then Fay, then Eleanor, then Mamie, then Dominus.

She ducked, narrowly avoiding a low-hanging branch. “Watch for the—”

Thwack.
“Ouch!” Dominus said.

Chuckling, Mamie turned around and smiled. “I tried to warn you.”

“I was lost in thought.”

“Oh?” How intriguing. What would he be thinking about that rendered him unaware of his surroundings?

“Turn around before it happens to you,” he said. “I have a much harder head and can take the injury.”

“I have been accused of having a hard head as well.”

“Turn around, Mamie.”

Bartholomew called over his shoulder. “We are almost to the clearing—look for rubble. It will be remnants of Apollo's Temple.”

They entered a square grassy area, walled in naturally by the
trees. Long ago, someone had planted this sanctuary. It still offered
them peace now. The air seemed to change, as if charged with storm currents.

Mamie slid off of Bahi's back, tying the reins loosely to the branch of a laurel.

Eleanor wore an expression of bliss, her face upturned as she stood in a ray of sun. “There is love here,” she said, pressing her hands to her waist.

Mamie strode toward the queen, standing on one side while Fay joined them on the other. Eleanor took their hands and raised them high. Energy from the earth made her feet tingle, her bones sing, and her blood hum. Power, shared among the three women, shimmered around them like a gossamer veil.

“Do you feel that?” Mamie asked, less trusting than Fay and Eleanor of the elements.

The other two women smiled without answering. Fay tilted
her head, rolling her shoulders and stretching, as if to make room for the power inside her. Mamie lifted her chin, accepting the heat of the sun on top of her head, sealing the mystical inside her body.

She knew the men were there, heard them tie the horses, but what they did was not as important as being part of what happened now. She'd felt this to a very small extent when they were at Athena's Well in Pergamum. Catherine had the ability to intuit things, while Mamie had preferred the tangible.

But now she sensed Eleanor's inner strength grow, gifting the queen with blessed feminine energy that flowed outward, surrounding them all. Mamie could feel it and wondered if this, whatever it was, was the secret to Eleanor's power.

Bartholomew cleared his throat, breaking the spell. He'd laid out two blankets, one for him and his knights, and one meant for the ladies. To be kept separate,
naturellement.

Mamie bit back a sarcastic observation and got out the wine and food. One more person did not make a difference when she'd ordered plenty. Two jars of wine and small earthenware cups. Flatbread, olive oil, and cheese. She handed over a portion of the bread, but Bartholomew shook his head.

Mamie became aware of the time that had passed, moments,
where she was under thrall of the sacred and feminine power inside the grove.

What had the men, these religious knights sworn to God, thought of their strange behavior?

The queen roamed the pond with Fay, gazing at the waterfall.
Mamie waited, uncomfortable in the men's silence. She felt as if sensuality dripped from her flesh, her breath, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. If the men before her were not devout, she would have felt more settled. Dominus met her gaze, his eyes widening with understanding she glimpsed behind the blue veil. He blinked, and it was gone. He looked away.