The Spymaster's Protection (20 page)

Half his lifetime had been spent alone, without family,
without true warmth and affection. He had had brotherhood and friendship, but
they had not lessened his loneliness or his feelings of isolation. And his job
for the Order had made him more isolated. Too often, he did not know, in his
heart, where he belonged. He held sympathies on both sides of this religious
battle for the Holy Land. And all too often, of late, he asked himself if this
was all there was to life; duty and a bloody death in some battle or a stealthy
one at the hands of some enemy. Had he a right to expect more? To want more?

Lucien did not have any answers to the questions and
unrelenting discontent that had plagued him for such a long time, but he did
know that this woman next to him had come into his life unexpectedly, and
brought him unanticipated joy, along with deep desires that he could already
tell went well beyond physical. The idea of leaving the Order was growing stronger
by the day. If he took her with him when they left here, he’d be finished as a
Templar anyway. In his heart, he’d already broken his vows. If he was riding
the line before, that kiss they had shared last night had put him way over.

He could confess his desire for her and his transgressions
with her, but he could not promise his confessor that they would be put aside
once and for all. In his heart, he didn’t want to retreat back over that line.
Looking at her as she lay next to him, so beautiful and soft and trusting, he
only wanted to proceed forward, into the future with her.

CHAPTER 10

Gabrielle awoke the next morning to a commotion in the great
hall downstairs. She came down the stairway, having slept better than she had
in weeks, to find Lucien and Count Raymond arguing with one another. Lady
Eschiva and the rest of her family were seated at the board breaking their
morning fast, all intently listening to the heated conversation going on
between the two men in the middle of the room. Gabrielle saw Eschiva motion to
her and went to sit beside her.

"Raymond has just received a request from Sultan
Saladin's son to cross our land with a small force of men," Eschiva
murmured as she passed a platter of freshly cut fruit to her guest.

Gabrielle took a wide selection and listened while she ate,
though she was constantly distracted by thoughts of Lucien in her bed last
night. She had slept soundly, but it was because of his presence.
Gabi
.
He had wanted to call her that. It had been his idea, and it
did
make
her feel new and unsullied, like his kiss the previous night.

"Raymond, you cannot let al-Afdal's envoy cross your
lands," Lucien argued. "It will appear as if you are conspiring with
our enemy."

“I signed a treaty with his father, Lucien,” came the count’s
response. “In return for his promise to not attack my lands in Tripoli and my
wife’s lands, here, in Galilee, I agreed to let his troops pass across my lands
safely, without hindrance or hostility.”

“Saladin is amassing troops on our borders. He is attacking
Oultrejourdan. He has called a jihad.” Lucien restated the same things he had
told Raymond since arriving. “Knowing his intentions, how can you aid him by
allowing him access? Why do you think he wants an envoy to reach King Guy’s
Royal Domain around Acre?” Lucien demanded, paraphrasing the language of the
letter he had read.

Raymond threw his hands up in frustration. “I do not know, nor
do I have any answers! But I signed a treaty with the sultan, and al-Afdal has
promised that they will only be on my land one day and that they will cause no
trouble.”

Lucien shook his head in unhappy resignation. “Well, what is
done is done. But I am going to scout this envoy and see just how large it is.”

The count looked concerned. “You will not engage them or
interfere.”

“I will not. Nor will I wear my habit.” Turning toward
Gabrielle, he nodded and gave her a small smile. “I will return before
compline.”

She rose from the table, picked up her skirts, and hurried
after him, unconcerned about how it might look. “Brother de Aubric?” Some
discretion had to be observed in front of others.

Lucien turned to her and gave her his full attention, lifting
one dark eyebrow in gentle rebuke. “I will forgive you your slip of the tongue
only because we are in the presence of others, but I may require a forfeit
later, mi’lady.”

Gabrielle glanced over her shoulder, but no one seemed to be
paying them any attention, which was good because his expression was full of
intimate deviltry. “I am sorry,” she replied with a shy smile, wondering with
no small amount of anticipation if his forfeit would be something she would
enjoy. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful.”

Lucien felt another not so unfamiliar tug on his heart. He
couldn’t remember the last time anyone had concerned themselves about his
welfare like this. He realized that this woman would worry all day about him.
It was a realization he would hold close until he returned.

“I shall return by supper. Stay within the castle today. Do
not go into town.” He wasn’t used to worrying about someone else, either, and
he wondered suddenly if it was wise to leave her.

Astutely, she read the concern on his face. “Do not worry
about me today. I will take no chances and remain with these walls. Just keep
yourself safe.”

Giving in to the overwhelming urge to touch her, he reached
out to stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckles, then surrendered to duty
and left.

Gabrielle watched for him nearly all day. It was another warm
and sunny spring day, and she spent most of it on the parapet at the top of
Count Raymond’s watchtower. There were two guards on the battlements with her.
They were different from the ones who had guarded her door last night, though
as it turned out, she had hardly needed them with Lucien in her room.

Below her, she could see that the castle guards had been
tripled. Armed sentries walked the lower wall battlements, and more yet either
trained or repaired weapons in the inner bailey.

Trouble was brewing, more immediate trouble than Lucien had
anticipated. It was on the faces of the men and in the eyes of the women.
Saladin was building up his troops, and Count Raymond was in danger of being
arrested for treason unless the king agreed to a peaceful resolution with him.
Gabrielle didn’t have to be told what was happening. She had heard everyone
talking about it.

Damn, Reynald for pricking the sultan’s paw with his audacious
raids! Her husband was always looking for a fight. And he did not care who he
hurt in the battle. Women, children, and the infirm all fell before his blade.
He killed and robbed without conscience. Not in a thousand lifetimes could she
atone for his brutality, murder, and mayhem.

But he was not simply a brigand. He was a man of cunning and
influence. Men listened to him; men who had the power to affect hundreds of
lives; men like the Templar Grand Master and the king. Reynald and Silvia hated
Lord Raymond. They would press for his arrest, and Gabrielle hoped the king
would not listen to such militant voices. She had grown even fonder of the
count these past few days. He was a good man who felt betrayed by men like her
treacherous, power-hungry husband, and it was no surprise that Lucien called
him friend.

The thought of Lucien dying on a battlefield or struck by a
lone arrow while on a reconnaissance mission had been haunting her all day. She
had never worried about Reynald or her father returning from battle. Truth be
told, she had actually hoped many a time they wouldn’t. It was her sin to atone
for, she knew.

But now she had found a man who mattered a great deal to her.
He was all she thought about any more. It was useless trying to deny her
feelings for him. Right or wrong, they were strong and growing stronger each
day. She hadn’t been able to suppress them. And she wanted him physically, too.
Sexual relations had never been pleasant for her. In fact, they had been
painful and degrading. Reynald hurt and took. But Gabrielle knew instinctually
Lucien de Aubric would be gentle and giving. A man who looked at her and
touched her as tenderly as he did would surely be a considerate lover, and, oh
my God, what would that be like to experience?

+++

Gabrielle was on the rooftop again late that afternoon when an
armed party of men was admitted through the gates of Raymond’s garrison. With
her keen eyesight, she immediately recognized the Templar Grand Master, Gérard
de Ridefort. Beside him, sat the Grand Master of the Hospitallers, Roger des
Moulins. Slightly behind them, the new Archbishop of Tyre rode up wearily. To
the rear of the three men, there were a dozen Templar and Hospitaller knights,
Lucien’s friend from the Rhineland among them. A cloud of dust arose in the
yard as the men dismounted.

Gabrielle hurried inside to see what was afoot. Lucien still
had not returned, and now she was truly worried.

Count Raymond was just admitting the Grand Masters and the
archbishop into his great hall when she reached the lower landing. Keeping to
the shadows so as not to draw attention, she descended the stairs and went to
sit next to Lady Eschiva at a chair near the hearth.

The countess welcomed her. “No sign of Brother de Aubric?” she
asked in a near whisper.

“None yet. What is happening?”

“I do not know,” Eschiva answered. “Raymond has not talked to
Master de Ridefort in months, since before the coup.”

Gabrielle noticed that Raymond’s three grown sons formed a
protective half-circle around their father. All of the men were armed, and the
meeting bristled with animosity, particularly between Count Raymond and the
Master of the Templars.

Brother Giles de Chancery walked up to his Grand Master and
greeted him with a strong show of congeniality, easing some of the tension. The
archbishop looked to the lady of the house for a seat and a cup of something to
wash down the dust of the road. Rising, Eschiva signaled him over, then sent
two serving maids scurrying for extra jugs of wine.

“Bishop Josias,” she greeted warmly, kissing the ring he
extended. “It is good to see you. I have sent for some wine to ease you. What
brings you to our humble abode?”

The archbishop had replaced the scholarly and eloquent Bishop
William of Tyre a year ago. He was middle-aged, portly, and obviously not used
to traveling much distance. “We have come from Jerusalem, at the request of
King Guy, to bring Count Raymond terms.”

Gabrielle saw a moment of alarm cross Lady Eschiva’s lovely
face. “How so, Bishop?”

The bishop waved a hand negligently. “It is of no consequence
to you lovely ladies. The men will handle the matter.”

The countess leveled a look on the portentous little man that
was meant to give him a silent warning not to disregard her feelings or her
intellect again. “It is
always
of consequence to me when it involves
my
husband,” Eschiva declared imperiously. “There are armed men in my courtyard.
Why so, bishop?”

She had his full attention after that subtle scolding. “Nothing to worry
about, countess. We are only here to negotiate a truce between your husband and
King Guy.”

“Then we shall all hear of it over a meal. Food will make
everyone more amendable.”

With that Lady Eschiva rose, walked determinedly to her
husband’s side, and began issuing directions to the men assembled around him.
Rooms were assigned, cloaks were taken, and all were directed to assemble for
dinner in one hour. Until then, they must accept her hospitality and adjourn to
their quarters to rest and shake the dust of the road off.

The eldest of the countess’ daughters by marriage had entered
the room and witnessed her mother by law’s imperial management of the
situation. She sat on the arm of the chair next to Gabrielle and chuckled.
“Eschiva is most formidable when she wants to be. I doubt anyone could order a
roomful of obstinate men around better than she.”

Gabrielle was most impressed. She fervently hoped Lucien would
be back by then. This would surely be significant for him.

+++

Supper began without him, however. From what Gabrielle
overheard, Lord Balian was head of this delegation sent by the king to talk to
Lord Raymond, but he had been delayed at Nablus on an important family matter.
He’d come with the party from Jerusalem and had asked them to wait for him at
the Templar fortress of Le Féve before going on to Tiberius. Unfortunately, as
soon as Master de Ridefort had heard the rumor that Count Raymond was allowing
Saracen soldiers to cross his land on their way to Acre, he’d set out
immediately for Tiberius, dragging the rest of the party with him.

Just as the conversation at the dinner table was becoming
heated yet again, Lucien walked into the room. Gabrielle immediately set down
her eating knife and looked across the hall to him. Their eyes met for a long
moment until each assured the other silently that they were well and whole.
Gabrielle noted that he looked dusty and tired, and more than a little worried.

Rising from the table, the Grand Master greeted him, but the
look on his grizzled face was far from welcoming. “Brother de Aubric! How
interesting to find you here.” The elder Templar’s faded blue eyes swung
briefly to Gabrielle, then back to his officer. “Count Raymond tells me that
you have been checking out this
envoy
,” he spat sarcastically. “Rid
yourself of that heathen garb you always seem to prefer and rejoin us in your
proper habit. I await your report,
brother
.” The last word was caustically
delivered as well, as if de Ridefort found it offensive.

Lucien gave a curt nod, then bounded up the stairway.
Gabrielle noticed that the Templar Grand Master watched him all the way, noting
the two flights of stairs he ascended. There was a scowl on his face as he sat
back down, glanced once again at her, then attended to the remainder of his
meal. He said nothing else while he ate, nor did those around him, although the
count looked happy to refrain from having to converse with the man at his side.