Shadows on a Sword (5 page)

“Streets paved with gold,” Amalric asserted confidently. “The churches are roofed with it. Every man and woman in the city walks loaded down with jewels.”

Theo did not believe half of it, but he knew for certain there were many wonders to be seen. The Hagia Sophia itself was one of the greatest churches in Christendom.

Finally, word came that the hostages had been released. Theo found himself in a frenzy of impatience to see Emma, but it was impossible to seek her out. They were no longer following the great river valley of the Danube, and their way now lay through forest-covered mountains. The marching during the day was difficult and dangerous; at night, the camp was strung out over long stretches of the trail. Halfway to Nish, Governor Nicetas’s army met them and gave what aid it could; this time, the crusaders welcomed the escort. Even with the army’s help, however, accidents happened daily. Sometimes the slippery paths they followed seemed little better than goat tracks, hanging perilously onto the sides of the mountains. Ponies and horses lost their footing constantly. At one point, the palfrey Theo rode on the trail slipped and almost toppled with him into a chasm so deep that Theo could see only the tops of trees when he looked down into it. Icy streams tumbled from the snow-covered peaks above—higher than any Theo had ever seen before. The travelers were often soaked crossing them. Each day at morning mass, the priest recited prayers for those who had been lost the day before.

At night, Theo bundled himself into his tent, exhausted, usually wet, and always cold, despite his campfire. But the air here in the mountains was so pure that sometimes on clear, dry nights, in spite of the bitter cold, he rolled himself into his cloak and slept out in the open next to his fire. He liked to lie and look heavenward. Never before had he paid any attention to the stars, but here he spent hours studying them. He could lose himself in the vastness of the vault above him. The occasional lonely howl of a wolf hunting in the forests around him inspired only awe, not fear.

It wasn’t until they had crossed the mountains and encamped at Selymbria, on the Sea of Marmora, a day’s march from Constantinople, that he saw Emma again.

T
he sea fascinated Theo. Never had he seen such an expanse of water. He had thought the rivers mighty, and had been in awe of their rushing, turbulent currents, but the sea was something quite different. In the cold December light, the far side of the Sea of Marmora disappeared over the horizon, its waters lay flat and dull. They gave an impression of immeasurable depth and secrecy. What lay beneath that opaque surface? Now and then, ships would cross—small wooden sailing ships such as those he had often

seen in the great ports along the Rhine. Occasionally, far out at the edge of his vision, larger vessels loomed out of the winter mists, then disappeared.

The morning after they made camp, he rose with the dawn, finally free to seek Emma. Baldwin’s camp was down by the shore of the sea, he had learned that much. Before he could leave, however, Hugh appeared outside his tent.

“Count Garnier would have you attend morning mass and break fast with him, young sir,” he said.

Theo’s heart sank, but a summons from the count could not be ignored. He followed Hugh over to his foster father’s tent.

“What ails you this morning?” the count asked as Theo squirmed beside him at his campfire. The priests had finished saying mass; he and the count had returned to Garnier’s tent. The first meal of the day was spread out on trestle tables: joints of meat, game birds, slabs of thick bread and overflowing flagons of ale. “You are wiggling around like a dog with fleas, and you haven’t eaten a thing. Are you not well?”

“I’m fine, my lord. Fine,” Theo answered. He grabbed a rib of venison and chewed at it. Normally he would have wolfed it down, but today the meat was dry in his mouth. He couldn’t swallow. In his hurry to finish the meal and seek out Emma, he quaffed an overlarge mouthful of ale and choked on it.

When he was finally released, he had to restrain himself from running. He skirted the main tents and headed for the shore, almost frantic with impatience. The camp was noisy with the usual morning bustle. Children ran screaming underfoot, mothers called, men swore. A donkey brayed and was answered by another far in the distance. The smoke from innumerable fires mingled to cast a pall over the whole vast encampment. The smells of roasting meat, animal dung and unwashed bodies were so thick, they were almost visible. Theo kicked through the refuse that was already beginning to pile up, and hurried even more.

He came up to a tent, and heard a whining, bickering argument break out on the other side of it. A few sharp words stilled it; Theo’s heart jumped as he recognized Emma’s voice. He moved cautiously around the tent. Lord Baldwin’s three children were sitting around the fire, finishing up their morning meal; Emma was with them.

Godvere’s voice called from another, larger tent nearby.

“Emma, bring them to me now. I wish them to stay with me for a while. You may see to the washing.”

Emma rose, looked up and saw Theo. She started, then put a finger to her lips and gestured toward the children.

Wait, she mouthed silently.

Theo backed into the bushes. A few minutes later, he heard a rustle, and Emma emerged, looking slightly disheveled and flushed.

“How good it is to see you!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been thinking of you all these miles since Hungary.” The words burst out, and then she clapped a hand to her mouth. “I mean—” she added hastily, drawing herself up and making a quick attempt to recover her dignity. “I wondered how you were.”

“I would have sought you out sooner,” Theo answered, “but I could not.” He, too, made an effort to keep his words light, his manner dignified. He would have liked to appear aloof, but that was impossible. There was no way under heaven he could suppress the smile that spread almost from ear to ear. She had been thinking about him!

“I have the most enormous load of washing to do. Down by the lake …”

“I’ll go with you,” Theo said.

“Not very fitting for a knight,” Emma replied, “to keep company with a nursemaid and her laundry!” She had herself back under control and the teasing note had returned to her voice. This time, Theo didn’t mind at all.

“I can help you carry it,” he began.

“Now, that would be a sight, wouldn’t it? A knight
carrying laundry.
No, that would never do. I know a spot where no one will see us. We’ll meet there.” She pointed to the woods behind Theo. “Go by that path, the one that leads off through the trees. Wait for me at the bottom, by the water’s edge. I’ll follow as soon as I can.”

Theo followed her directions and found himself on a rocky shore nestled into a small, deserted cove. He looked out over the water—sparkling and deep blue today, with small flecks of waves roughening up the surface—and breathed deeply of the tingling air. He felt light and buoyant and unbelievably happy.

Emma appeared almost immediately, her arms full of linens. She dumped them all into the water, wet them, rubbed them with handfuls of greasy soap, then set to rinsing them and beating them on the rocks. All the while, she kept up a stream of chatter, as if she were feeling self-conscious, afraid perhaps of having seemed too bold. Theo let the words flow over him, only half listening. He was much more concerned with just watching her. Suddenly, she stopped the idle talk and sat back. Her face became serious.

“I think there may be trouble coming, Theo,” she said. “It might be well for you to be prepared.”

“How so?” Theo asked. It was amazing how the wind coming in off the sea tangled her hair into a forest of black curls, he thought.

“I heard my lord Baldwin talking to the duke last night at supper. It seems that Hugh of Vermandois has already arrived at Constantinople. They say he received wondrous gifts from the emperor Alexius himself, and indeed the reports are so lush that my lord is thinking of going on ahead to get his own share before the rest of you pile in. But there are other rumors as well, and they’re more troubling.”

“Other rumors?” Theo asked. “Of what sort?” His mind was not really on what she was saying. On a splendid day such as this, he did not want to hear rumors of trouble. It was still hard to believe that Emma was actually here. It was hard to believe how happy her presence made him, too, and that was giving him pause for thought.

“Well, some say that, gifts or no gifts, Hugh and all his men are being held prisoner.”

“Do Baldwin and the duke give any substance to that talk?” Reluctantly, Theo began to pay attention to what Emma was saying, but he knew very well how easily rumors spread around the camp, and knew also that most of them were sheer inventions.

Emma paused and pushed a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. Washing the clothes had brought the color to her cheeks, and Theo thought she looked exceedingly fair.

“They do,” she said.

“It’s probably just nonsense.”

“Probably. But I know the duke and Lord Baldwin are worried that when the men hear the rumors they will be angry. The common soldiers and the archers and others are expecting a great deal when we reach Constantinople, you know. They have been told they can rest there until all the great lords and princes have assembled with their armies, and they will be given all they need for their comfort. The way has been hard so far, Theo—they feel they deserve a reward,not punishment. At least, that is what the good duke says. My lord Baldwin cares not a whit about his men’s feelings or comfort. He worries only about his own interests.”

“Nonsense, surely,” Theo said. “The men are much too afraid of the duke to disobey him. We are not the rabble that Peter the Hermit’s army was,” he added, echoing Amalric’s words. Surely Emma exaggerated. After all, women loved to gossip. This army would remain disciplined, Theo was certain of it.

“Still,” Emma said, “perhaps you should keep alert.” She bent back to her laundry and picked up a garment. As she beat it against a rock, Theo saw that her fingers were red and swollen. The December wind off the Sea of Marmora that was tousling her hair so delightfully was cold, and the water, he realized, must be frigid.

“You must let me help,” he said, and bent to pick up another piece of clothing. He flung it against the rock with vigor, but most of it slapped into the water. Spray dashed up and drenched Emma.

“My thanks, Theo! You are indeed of great assistance!”

Theo crimsoned. “I’m sorry,” he began. What a fool he must look! Then he sputtered as a spray of water, aimed expertly by Emma, hit him.

Emma let out a peal of laughter and fell back against the bank.

“Your face! If only you could see your face! You look like a rabbit that’s just seen the biggest hound of its life!”

Theo leaped back to his feet, humiliated.

“Oh, Theo, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just … It’s just, your face was so funny!” Her mouth twitched and she burst into another gale of laughter.

A wave of anger surged through Theo. He scowled. He was not used to being laughed at by a maid.

Emma sobered immediately. “Please,” she said. “Stay with me. Do not go away angry because I am such a nitwit. I will not laugh anymore, I promise!” She fastened her eyes upon him, pleading, all trace of mockery gone.

The anger and humiliation melted away. Theo heaved a huge sigh. There was no way he could refuse that look.

By the time he returned to his own camp, he had forgotten all about her warning. It came back to him with a jolt, however, as soon as he arrived.

“The count wishes to see you immediately,” William said. The groom’s face was tense, his brow furrowed.

“What is it?” Theo asked.

“I know not, sir,” William answered.

Theo knew at once the man was lying. He debated for a moment whether to press him further, then decided against it. The count would tell him soon enough if anything was afoot. He shrugged, and made for Garnier’s tent.

The sound of loud, furious voices carried over to the edge of the clearing. Theo could make out the count’s voice and, to his surprise, Godfrey’s as well. Something must have happened indeed if the duke was that angry. He pushed through the tent flap warily. Once inside, he stood waiting to be noticed.

“There is no excuse,” the duke stormed. “How many men are missing?”

“At least five knights and squires, with all their foot soldiers and archers. They must have slipped away before dawn.” The count’s voice was low and trembled with tightly controlled anger. He passed a hand over his brow and turned his eyes away from Godfrey’s, catching sight of Theo as he did so.

“Ah, Theo.” He gave a sigh of relief. “You are well come, my son. I have need of you here.” He turned toward a group of men standing behind him. Theo recognized them as the most loyal of the count’s knights—friends all, and known to him since boyhood. “You will ride with Aimery and these others. Some of our knights have gone berserk and have ridden off with all their men. We discovered their absence just after you left this morning. Already tales have reached us that they have attacked a village nearby and pillaged it. This insanity must be stopped. Alexius will not tolerate it. He will send his forces—” Garnier’s control over his words slipped and his voice broke. Theo could imagine only too well what the count was thinking. This army was not to follow in the footsteps of Peter the Hermit’s band. They were to be a true crusader army, fighting only for God and for the liberation of Jerusalem.

“You must go after them and stop them.” He turned back to the other knights and addressed their leader, Aimery. “Take as many of the men as you need and leave now. At once!”

Theo bowed to his foster father, and bowed again to the duke. He backed out of the tent.

So, Emma had been right, he thought as he ran for his campsite. He must not take her words so lightly in future.

“William!” he called as he reached his tent. “Saddle Centurion. Make him ready for battle.” He pushed into the tent and began to dress himself in his metal-ringed leather tunic. Of course, it wouldn’t really be a battle, he told himself. They wouldn’t be fighting their own men. Still …