Rose (36 page)

“I have not been asked to join the brothers for meals.”

“I will get the book and bring it to you.”

“I cannot let you do that.”

“I am a sworn Templar, and my oath to God is pure. I cannot
stand by and let a man's own aims poison that which was meant to be holy.”

Dominus considered his words. “I accept your help, with gratitude. I will be indebted to you.”

“You have this backward! It is I and the Knights Templar
who hold the debt, for finding a traitor overcome by his own pride.”

They made their way back to the Templar House. Everard paused outside the gate. “Wait, brother.” He held Dominus's arm. “Look.”

“Where?”

Everard jerked his head, the tonsure fresh and smooth, to the left.

“God's bones,” Dominus breathed.

Commander Bartholomew stood near the row of lettuces growing by the wall. Next to him was Jocelyn, Count of Edessa.

“We have to get closer.”

They also recognized the red-faced man wearing the king's colors of blue and gold.

The eunuch, Thierry, whispered angry words, making his
point by pounding a fist into an open palm. “That harlot has spoken
to the patriarch. Everything is ruined, and it is all her fault.”

Jocelyn and Bartholomew exchanged a look of understanding.
“Calm yourself,” Jocelyn said, glancing around. “We have a plan to take care of the queen.” His gaze landed on Everard. “You there—come here! Do I know you?”

Mamie hurried inside, almost colliding with Odo. The rat had waited for her on the bottom stair leading up to the women's wing.

“I was hoping it would be you, instead of that wench with the soulless eyes.”

Lifting her eating dagger to his jugular, Mamie asked in a sweet voice, “What did you just say, Odo?”

He sputtered and pushed at her hand, but she didn't release her hold.

“How many times do you need your ass kicked today, Chaplain?”

His face turned the shade of a ripe strawberry, and he started
to cough.

Mamie pulled her knife back but kept it in her palm.

“We have a problem,” he began.

“No.
You
have a problem.”

With visible effort, Odo took a deep breath and started again. “Lady Mamille, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Mamie nodded.

“I would like to speak to the queen. Personally.” He swallowed hard. “This is a matter of great urgency.”

“The king?”

“Just me. Alone.”

Mamie stared at him, watching him squirm. She knew men, however, and for what it was worth, he was being honest. At the moment.

“I will give her your message.”

He waited, shifting. “You know she saw the bishop?”

“
Oui
.”

“What was it about?”

“It is my great pleasure to not tell you a damn thing.” Mamie passed him by, leaving him on the bottom stair. She'd expected to feel a bit of righteous vindication in facing the snoop and seeing him grovel. She did not.

She opened the door to their chamber.

Fay and Larissa sat on the red-and-yellow trunks, staring at the closed door between the rooms.

“She won't come out, and she won't let us in.” Fay looked hurt, then angry. “Where have you been? You and Eleanor left, and I had to play nice with Constance and the other ladies. She's crying. Throwing and breaking things.”

Mamie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She rapped on the door. “I have a message from Odo.”

The door swung open immediately. The queen looked terrible.
Her eyes were puffy, the skin underneath bruised and purple. Her cheeks were chapped and red, and her neck was splotchy.

“Are you ill again? What did you eat? I will push Constance's head under water until she confesses,” Fay said. She raised a fist.

“I will help.” Larissa got to her feet. “You barely survived the last bout of sickness. Poison!”

“I am not sick. Well, I am sick at heart.” She pulled Mamie inside and shut the door on the other two.

Fay howled in outrage from the opposite side of the door. Mamie shivered.

The queen said, “I know she is angry. She will be angrier still. What does Odo want?”

“To speak to you. Alone.”

“Why?”

“I saw the patriarch leave. He seemed furious. Odo followed him when he left here and stopped him on the path. He kicked Odo in the rear, literally, and told him to stop interfering with your marriage.”

Eleanor's eyes welled. “Too little too late.”

“I think he may want to apologize.”

“He is frightened, like Aimery, that I will take my vassals and leave this forsaken Crusade. They need my men.
Mine
. They remember who I am now that I threaten to go.”

“Did you tell the patriarch about Raymond offering you Edessa?”

“I am not a fool. Of course not.”

A series of loud knocks sounded on the outer chamber door. Mamie heard Fay open it as a servant delivered a royal summons to the Ivy Room.

Fay closed the outer door, and Eleanor opened the inner one. “I heard. A royal summons? Good God.” The queen bowed her head, seeming frail for the first time since Mamie had met her. Then she straightened, her gaze steady.

“Three hours, my queen,” Mamie said, touching Eleanor's arm.

“Will you meet with Odo?” Fay asked.

“Impertinent monkey! You were listening at the door?”

Fay dismissed the accusation with a shrug. “Of course. It is my job.”

Eleanor swept into her private chamber. “Larissa, bring me my cosmetics. Fay. I will wear my Aquitania crimson and white. A summons? I am the damn queen!” She exhaled. “But I will go. And fight for Edessa with my last breath.”

“What shall I tell Odo?”

“Mamie, tell him that I will grant his request in the morning. I am sure we will each have much to say. In the small courtyard,
where I met Louis? After breakfast. I would suggest with breakfast, but I would not put it past the bastard to slip something into my food.” She held her stomach. “If I knew for certain I'd been poisoned, I could point a finger. Until then, I am eating nuts and fruit that I get myself.”

“I will find him,” Mamie promised. She left immediately, leaving Larissa and Fay to transform the woman into Queen Eleanor.

She searched the men's wing, the trail outside the palace—everywhere. Including the three olive trees—her and Dominus's spot. Odo was nowhere to be found.

Downhearted, she passed the Templar House with a sigh. Things were happening so fast, and she might find her allegiance pledged opposing the king and the Templars. Her time with Dominus had let her feel love once more, showing her the emptiness in what she'd chased. The physical solace had served a purpose, but she was no longer willing to settle for less than the entire feast.

He had changed her heart, for better or worse. “Not now,”
she muttered, taking the steps up the palace two at a time. Her future, bleak and empty, would leave her plenty of time to mourn.

Dominus melted back as Everard walked forward. The young knight plastered on a happy grin and held out a hand. He introduced himself, and Bartholomew bragged that Everard was their new leader for Aleppo.

He made his way back to the post in minutes, his face damp with sweat as he stood next to Dominus.

“Nice friends you've made,” Dominus said.

“I just saved your arse,” Everard quipped, then made the sign of the cross. “We heard correctly? They said they have a plan to take care of the queen?”

Dominus leaned against the wall. “I heard that too.”

“It is no secret the commander has little respect for the queen. Rumors of her less-than-circumspect behavior had reached him, and he'd judged her before we ever arrived. Unfortunately, the rumors proved to be true.”

“Be careful, Everard. We do not know that. And if Raymond
is secretly using his niece for her army, covering that sin with another lie, well, he has proven himself to be ruthless.”

Everard nodded. “This is true. It does not change the commander's hatred, which seems to have found fellowship with Thierry. I don't understand Jocelyn's stake.”

Dominus said, “He is protecting what is his.”

“Edessa?”

“
Oui
. Raymond appears to be dangling a prize he doesn't even hold, and look at all the candidates vying to be number one.”

“We have to warn the queen.” Everard looked to Dominus. “Perhaps you could do that while I filch the prayer book?”

“A fine young man of Christ you are, filching and spying. What have I done to you?”

“You've shown me how to be a man of honor. Do you think they want to kill her?”

Dominus pulled the younger knight farther back into the
shadows. “Some things must never be said out loud.” Treachery
within the most sacred order of men—a plan to murder the queen? “I will look for Mamie, the surest way to reach the queen.
Be careful, my friend, and do not get caught. All of this is colliding like an impending storm. I do not want you struck by lightning.”

Everard slipped from beneath Dominus's hand and headed toward the church. “Godspeed,” he said from over his shoulder.

Dominus strode back to the olive trees. Though he felt Mamie's
presence, she was not there. He turned toward the palace and whistled when he saw his temptation taking the stairs up two at a time. Her gown, specially made, he knew, with splits so she could ride astride or race across a field, trailed after her. She turned and stilled like a rabbit trapped in the woods.

He whistled again and waited at the shadows of the garden
trees. She came toward him at a run, reaching him while gasping
for breaths.

“I have been looking everywhere,” she said.

“For me?” His heart quickened.

“Non. Odo. He wants a private meeting with the queen. I could have killed him.” With a quick jerk of her fist, she had her dagger in her palm. “I was close.”

“I am glad you did not.” Murder was a bigger sin than living life to the fullest. “You are innocent as a babe.”

She laughed, bold and strong. “You know that is not true.”

He grinned, remembering. “Let me say it differently.” He grabbed the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. Their lips clung, hungry, to one another—as if this might be their last taste.

She pulled back, emerald eyes shining. “A royal meeting has been summoned in the Ivy Room at three this afternoon. If you can listen from the roof, you should. I don't know what's going on or what will happen, but the king and queen may need our aid. I don't trust Raymond.”

Dominus glanced up as Raymond stood at the palace's top stair, overlooking his domain. He tried to pull Mamie back, but she yanked free of his grasp. “I have to go,” she whispered. “Take care, Dominus.”

Mamie was halfway up the stairs as Raymond came down them. The prince reached out and brushed a knuckle along Mamie's cheek, and she bristled. He chuckled as she finished her way up the stairs.

What had the rogue said to his Mamie?

The ringing of the church bells reminded him that he had
little time—but enough, if he commandeered a horse—to descend the mountain and return to get into his position on the roof.

He went to the stable and freed one of the horses outside eating hay. Sometimes it was easier to apologize afterward than ask permission.

Prodded by urgency, Dominus reached the marketplace minutes later. He tied the horse outside Tallow's. His brown robe allowed him to blend in with the other knights on the road.

The Englishman seemed to be waiting for him. “Come on. Ye've gotten two messages just arrived this morning. I had a feelin' ye'd be in for them.” He didn't offer ale but took the box down and slid it across the table.

Dominus did not sit, either, but instead lifted the letters. “Both from our friend.”

The man nodded and left, dropping the curtain behind him.

Dominus cracked the wax seal and read the letter. He stopped, gasping, and read again. His eyes blurred, and he sank, leaning his forehead against the table. Moments passed as he digested the news, and at last he had to force it aside. “I have a duty to finish. Let us get it done.”

He opened the next message.
Patriarch Aimery will be appraised of Commander Bartholomew's association with R and J. Find proof, if possible, and bring it directly to him. As of this reading, you are no longer bound by Templar oath. Unless you wish to wear the cloak and find God's truth in Jerusalem.
A scrawling
B
took up the last inch of parchment.

He could hide behind the white cloak and avoid his birthright or hide in Troyes with his lover and avoid his birthright. Or he could accept God's will and go home.

First, to eavesdrop on the Royal Summons.

Mamie and Fay each wore a white gown with the crimson surcoat and tight sleeves. Not the height of fashion but necessary when wielding a sword. Tightly fitted white leather boots laced up their shins, and they each wore their hair pulled back into a high ponytail, cascading down their backs in curls. No veil, no caplet. There was the slightest hint of color to their cheeks, and dark brown powder outlined their eyes.

Larissa came too, carrying a basket that held sewing supplies,
a sealed bottle of wine, and food they had already tested.

“I have no idea what this meeting will be about, not really,
mon fleurs
, so we must be prepared for anything. Remember: we are in support of Edessa, as that was the main reason for this Crusade.”

“Swords?” Mamie asked, patting her empty sheath.