The Spymaster's Protection (51 page)

“Still,” Sibylla argued, “What good does it do the kingdom to
keep Tyre and loose Jerusalem? Was this city not the original goal of our
forefathers? Is it not the symbol of what all this fighting has been about?”

Lord Balian intervened. “I have seen how difficult it would be
for our forces to cross the territory from Tyre to here. And we truly have lost
most of our army.”

The queen, regally attired for their meeting in a Byzantium
silk brocade gown, was not appeased. “Yet it remains that we have been left to
fend for ourselves. It is reprehensible, although I would not let that scum,
Gérard de Ridefort, take charge again if he walked through these gates
tomorrow. Since my husband’s capture, he has given me no thought whatsoever!”

Lucien did not tell her that most of the key barons and the
Grand Master were even now plotting to replace King Guy and Queen Sibylla with
the queen’s younger sister, Isabella, and the husband they were planning to
arrange for her. Yet again the lords of Outremer were divided and planning
another coup. It seemed to Lucien that nothing would ever change in this
godforsaken kingdom.

“They have moved King Guy to the garrison at Nablus, your
majesty,” Lucien did inform her.

Sibylla sighed with relief. “That is at least much closer.
Will the sultan release him soon? I have paid his ransom.”

Lucien found it painful to dash her hopes. “Saladin will keep
him until he conquers all. I fear he still intends to use him as a bargaining
chip.”

The queen courageously suppressed the tears that rose to her
eyes. “I have feared as much as well, my friend. No doubt he will ask him to
beseech us to surrender as he was forced to ask Ascalon to do so. I will not do
it, though. God help my poor husband!”

“And us, as well,” Lord Balian echoed.

There was little left to say after that sorrowful conclusion.
Wishing to comfort the queen, Gabrielle walked with her to her private
quarters, leaving Lucien to talk further with the baron of Nablus.

She was standing before an open window in her bedroom, on the
top floor of the palace, when Lucien rejoined her an hour later. The setting
sun silhouetted her slender form in a halo of red gold light. Lucien stood in
the doorway and silently stared at her for a few stolen moments.

She looked like an angel, and he was reminded how often she
liked to refer to him as her guardian angel. It always brought a smile of self
mockery to his face, for he was no guardian angel, though he could understand
why she thought of him like that. He had kept her safe from her abusive husband
and father. He wondered what she thought of their fates. While she might abhor
the violent deaths they had met, she would be relieved that she had nothing
further to suffer from them.

She was free to marry him now, and how he wanted that! It
didn’t matter if he had not been officially released from his vows. He may
never be. That would not stop him from making her his wife. If he had to travel
to the far-off city of Irbil, in the kingdom of Mesopotamia, to do so, he
would.

She had unbound her hair and changed from her day gown into a luxuriant,
flowing silk robe of red and gold. Her long gold-flecked hair picked up the
sun’s fading light and glimmered radiantly with it.

He stepped up behind her and wrapped her in the circle of his
arms, pressing his cheek to the long lustrous strands of her sable brown hair.
“What were you so deep in thought about, my heart?” he murmured as he nuzzled
her silky curls.

She sighed and snuggled into his embrace, leaning contentedly
against the muscled wall of his chest. “I was imagining our life together,” she
answered him, covering his hands, which were clasped over her stomach. “Do you
think we will be blessed by a miracle and have children?”

His head angled around hers, and he kissed her cheek. “If we
are not, we will adopt some. You know how great the need is.”

“I was hoping you would want that. Some men cannot tolerate
children that are not of their making.”

“Gabrielle.” Lucien turned her to face him, thinking the time
was right to tell her about her real father. “I have learned the secret of your
mother’s troubled life.” He took her hand and guided her to the enormous silk
draped bed in the room. “Sit down with me,” he urged, tugging her onto the
goose feathered mattress to sit beside him.

Gabrielle stared at his solemn face, perplexed.

“While I was with the Blue Wolf, he revealed to me that years
ago, in Antioch, he captured your mother as she journeyed outside the city to
visit a friend. His intent was to hold her for ransom. Even then your father
and Reynald were despised by the Arabs.

“While she was his captive, Gökböri fell in love with Simone.
They had planned to reunite. He gave her this necklace,” he said, unclasping it
from around his neck and returning it to her. “He also gave her some jewels so
that she could come to him after he released her. He didn’t know she was with
child by the time she returned to Antioch. She was never able to go back to
Gökböri. Armand prevented it. After he took her away to Jerusalem, then Kerak,
she bore the child, a girl. You, Gabi.” Lucien held her hands and her unblinking
gaze. “Your true father is the Blue Wolf, General Muzaffar al Din Gökböri. That
pendant he gave your mother is a replica of the symbol he carries on his
shield. It is what has protected you on the roads of Palestine these many
years. It is what gained our release from the prison at Damascus. It is what
protected me at Hattin. Though I knelt before the executioner’s blade like all
of my brethren, I was spared because of you, Gabi.”

Gabrielle was barely aware of the tears slipping hotly down
her cheeks and of the way Lucien held her hands so tightly, so securely. “I
think I always knew, or maybe hoped, that Armand was not my true father. It
explains why he could never love me or my mother.”

“It could also explain why he might have killed her.”

“Yes, it could.” Gabrielle met Lucien’s gentle dark brown eyes
over his battle scarred knuckles as he raised her hands and kissed her curled
fingers. “When did Gökböri find out that I was his daughter?”

“Only years later he told me.”

“Maybe my mother had some contact with him before her death.”

“It could be a motive for her murder, if Armand did indeed
kill her.”

“As horrible as it sounds, I would rather believe that than
believe she left me alone with him deliberately. He was nearly as brutal as
Reynald.”

“It was the Blue Wolf who killed your father at Hattin,”
Lucien informed her.

“Their death was no great loss to anyone but Silvia and the
men who got rich alongside them,” she told him bitterly. “I certainly did not
grieve for either one.”

“The general wants us to come to Irbil when this is over. He
says we can come for a visit. Come to marry. Or stay to live. There is a large
Christian community there, and I do not believe the Temple can extend their
reach there. We will be safe to live out our lives in peace. With your father
as governor, I am sure I will be able to find work to support us. I regret that
I have nothing to offer you in my homeland of Iberia.”

“This is your homeland, also, as it is mine,” she pointed out
optimistically.

“What think you of this plan for our future?”

Gabrielle leaned across the small distance and kissed him on
the cheek. “I think I like it. We are both half Arab, afterall, and I would
very much like to get to know my real father. He seemed like a good man.”

“I believe he is. I got to know him rather well these past
three months. I came to respect him not only as an honorable warrior, but as a
fair and just administrator with admirable leadership qualities and deep
humanity.”

Gabrielle fell back onto the bed and tugged Lucien after her.
“And you have had many opportunities to see the good and the bad in leadership
these many years, sir.”

He toyed with the knotted belt at her waist and lifted himself
up on one elbow. “I have had the misfortune to see more bad, than good,
lately.”

Gabrielle pulled his tunic free of his loose trousers, then
lifted it over his head to bare his magnificent chest. “Was Hattin terrible?”

“It was horrific, and totally unnecessary. There could have
been another way.” When she freed the knot at his waist, loosening his pants,
he leaned in to kiss the skin exposed by her gaping robe. “But I do not want to
think now on all that loss. I have waited too long to bury all those terrible
memories in your healing sweetness. Come, let me make love to you, sweet Gabi.”

Kissing her hungrily, he freed them of their remaining
garments, then eased her deeper into the luxuriant goose feathers until he
hovered over her, naked and magnificently aroused.

Gabrielle reached over and untied the cord holding the silk
draperies around the bed. With another twist of her body, she unknotted the
opposite side, enclosing them in a cocoon of amber light that washed over their
naked skin in deep golden hues. Though her skin was lighter than his, they were
a perfect blend together. And now she was alike him in another way, as well.
She was half Arab. She wondered giddily if that would make their children full
Arab, then decided it didn’t matter. For one way or another, they would have a
family together, either through natural birth or adoptive means. What a special
man he was that he was willing to give her that!

Seeing the light in her eyes and the sublime smile on her
temptingly soft lips, Lucien lowered himself over her, bending his head to
suckle at her breast as he thrust himself into her in one long slow gliding
stroke. Her gasp of pleasure matched his groan of satisfaction. It was like
coming home, he thought as he began to move inside her.

Their passion could not be drawn out as he wished. Not this
time. It had been too long, and he wanted her too badly. As they too quickly
reached the peak of ecstasy together, splintering apart in one another’s arms,
he reminded himself that he now had years more to enjoy with her. Despite the
upcoming battle, he felt certain they would both survive it. They had been
through too much together. God had answered his prayers and returned him to
her. He surely meant them to make a long and happy life together.

CHAPTER
26

Saladin and his massive army reached Jerusalem on the
twentieth of September 1187. His arrival was no surprise to the Christians
inside the walls of the ancient city. For weeks, Balian d’Ibelin and Lucien de
Aubric had supervised the stockpiling of arms, food, and water. Officially, the
Patriarch of Jerusalem was in charge of the city, along with the queen, but
neither had any military experience. Both Sibylla and Heraclius gladly turned
over the defense of the city to the ex baron of Nablus and the disavowed
Templar monk. There were no other men of rank in the city.

The army the two men managed to put together was an assortment
of farmers, shopkeepers, refugees, and boys. Trained soldiers were nearly
nonexistent. The queen and the Patriarch had ordered all churches stripped of
their treasures to pay any man willing to fight. Most were eager to defend
themselves, even without the added incentive of payment. Lord Balian added one
more incentive, though, that stunned many, including a reluctant Heraclius. He
knighted any man who swore to stay and defend the city. It was a wildly popular
move that ended up fortifying the morale of the fledgling army.

On the day Saladin arrived, Balian and Lucien were called from
their organizational duties to the Tower of David. Queen Sibylla and a few
noblewomen were waiting for them on the ramparts of the crenellated wallwalk.
Bowmen flanked them, stretched out on either side. Gabrielle stood near the
queen and stared gravely at Lucien as he strode toward her.

They had not seen much of one another the past week, except
late at night when Lucien would return to their room at the palace, exhausted
after a long day of rigorous preparation and training. He had overseen the
building of the siege engines and been in charge of training most of the newly
recruited defenders.

Gabrielle was almost glad that the battle was beginning.
Waiting had been incredibly stressful. It was time to face their fate, though
she wished there was another way, for it was certain many men would die in the
days and possibly weeks to come. Jerusalem would not be taken easily. The walls
were formidable, and the Christians had always been strongest when they stayed
behind their fortresses and fought.

As Lucien came up beside her and took her hand, she said yet
another prayer begging God to safeguard his life. Lucien had told her of the
Blue Wolf’s promise that he would live through the battle for Jerusalem.
Gabrielle had made him wear her mother’s pendant, even though he urged her to
wear it. But she did not need the Blue Wolf’s protection. She would be safe
enough in the palace or at the orphanage or hospital. In the hand-to-hand
combat that would eventually come, Lucien would need the protective amulet.
Unfortunately, it would not keep him safe from an arrow or a missile flying
over the walls. Only God could protect him from the deadly air attacks.

Lucien felt Gabrielle’s fears. Her hand was ice cold, despite
the hot day, and she was trembling. He hooked an arm around her slender
shoulders and gave her a reassuring hug. “It will be all right, Gabi,” he
murmured into her ear. “God is with us.”

Gabrielle wasn’t sure if he was referring to the two of them
or to all of the citizens inside the city. “There are so many of them,” she
said as she looked out over the ramparts.

Lucien followed her line of vision. Thousands of armed
Saracens arrayed themselves around the great walled city in a show meant to
intimidate and strike fear into every soul watching from inside Saladin’s army
was still great in numbers and strength, having lost little of either since
they had defeated the Christian soldiers at Hattin and elsewhere. The sultan
was at the pinnacle of his power and might, and he had fought his battles
shrewdly, in direct contrast to his divided, misguided enemy.