Behind the Veil (18 page)

“Mistress, the moon is setting!” he said with significance lost on Helena. “I must go to the seigneur at once!”

“Go then!”

Jamil sprang off among the trees as nimbly and silently as a hind. Helena made her way toward the women’s quarters in search of Assad. If anyone knew how to aid Aziza, it would be the chief eunuch.

***

Assad stood on the lighted terrace with a scowl on his face. He paced, then scanned the garden. His eyes fell on Helena as she came hurrying from the trees. He threw up his hands and came puffing down the steps.

“Your Loveliness! At last! At last! His Eminence looks for you everywhere!”

As Helena stepped into the lantern light, the chief eunuch’s eyes widened.

“Ah! Ah! What has befallen you now!”

“I became lost in the back garden—”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Back garden! What were you doing there?”

“I was looking for Aziza. When did you see her last?”

His round face scowled, showing he knew nothing of her fate. “Aziza is not to be wandering the back garden, nor should you. When will you listen to my orders—you are limping!”

“It is nothing. A mere scratch. I simply tripped over a loose stone.”

His brows thundered together at the very idea of such a disgrace. “A loose stone? Here? In the emir’s palace? Forbid!”

“Oh Assad!
Please
!” she cried impatiently. “Will you see if you can find Aziza. I fear something terrible has happened to her.”

“It would be no wonder the way the damsel runs about in areas off limits to female slaves,” he stopped, and his concern overcame his frustration over the impropriety of the women under his authority.

“Something has happened to Aziza?”

Helena cast a backward glance to make certain none of the guards were about. She whispered urgently: “Mosul has her. She is being kept under guard by his loyal men. I cannot explain all that is involved. But if you can find out where she is being held and do something to release her, you may save her life—and Jamil’s.”

Assad’s eyes grew troubled and stern. “Mosul is a hard man. The day was bleak when His Eminence chose to bring him to Antioch. I fear there is little I can do on my own, but I shall try.”

He clapped his hands and a slave girl appeared and bowed. “When did you last see Aziza?”

“This morning, Assad.”

“Ask quietly among the other servants to see what you can discover about  where she may be. Be cautious. There may be trouble.”

The girl bowed and hurried out. 

“Your foot worsens, Your Loveliness. The prince will never forgive me. You must rest in one of the other chambers. I will send word to him to come at once.”

Helena was led away, amid clucking sounds of worry and disapproval.

Behind the Veil  / The Royal Pavilions boo
k3
/ Linda Chaikin

A discreet knock on the chamber door brought Helena to her feet. 

Assad had returned her to the same chamber which Mosul had taken her, insisting it was the prince’s wish to meet her there in the palace. Her garment was changed into a fresh one, and her hair redone with jewels. She had been waiting for over an hour and beginning to think Assad too, may have gone over to the side of Mosul. Then the chamber door opened—

“This way, Your Eminence,” Assad’s voice rang out anxiously. “Her Highness waits for you!”

Assad swept wide his arm for Prince Kalid to enter, then hastened to close the door behind him, leaving them alone. Helena was surprised to see Kalid. In truth, she had suspected the whole story of her being brought here at his wishes to be a ruse.

Kalid faced her, no corpulent son of an emir, as Mosul had portrayed him, but apparently a man of equal cunning. It seemed to her wearied spirits that two scheming warriors, each deadly and determined, vied for control of her future, not for love, nor because of her beauty alone, but for political ambitions. If worse came to worst, she would certainly opt for the hand of Kalid rather than Mosul, not that it would make much difference, for she rejected both of them.
There was room in her heart for only one man
.

Perhaps the strength she now saw in Kalid, would permit her to explain part of her dilemma.

The prince’s black eyes considered her coolly. “You tried to escape.”

“Your Excellency,” she said and gave a bow of her head. “I apologize for this inconvenience. I suppose Assad explained.”

“You may dispense with formality. I understand you came from the back garden?”

“Yes. I—”

“Then you may have seen the man who attacked the captain of my bodyguard. He was found by his men unconscious, and robbed of his weapons.”

She could see he was watching her response closely. Did he suspect her involvement?

“Where is Mosul now?” she asked.

“He was taken to his chambers, and the physician called. Why do you ask?”

“Because it is necessary I speak to you alone, without any of his men about.”

Kalid did not appear surprised. “There are two guards waiting outside, but they are trustworthy.”

“You must not trust any of them, Your Eminence. They are first loyal to Captain Mosul. What I say now, you may reject. Yet I could not live with good conscience if I did not warn you.”

He showed surprise at her sobriety. “Very well. I am listening.”

“Mosul came upon me in the garden. He boasted of plans to turn against you  once we leave Antioch. The soldiers guarding your caravan to Aleppo are all loyal to him. They are Moors from Sicily. They hold no particular allegiance to the Seljuk Turks, or to the House of Khan. They plan to ambush the royal caravan and take me a prisoner. If we leave Antioch in the morning without the Seljuk cavalry, I fear for your life, your family, and my own life. He also is holding a slave girl named Aziza a prisoner, and he seeks my slave-boy, Jamil, who has proven loyal to me.”

Prince Kalid stared at her. For a moment he said nothing, then his jaw tightened, and the black eyes gleamed like marble. “Mosul told you this in the garden tonight?”

“He did. He intends to take me to Syria and hold me for ransom. My uncle will be asked to pay him in gold.”

If Kalid believed her, he did not show it. His face was immobile. After several moments of silence in which she heard nothing but the pounding of her heart, he walked to where she stood and gazed long into her eyes.

Suddenly he turned his back and walked across the chamber toward the door. Helena darted after him, throwing herself against the door.

“I’ve told you the truth.”

“I believe you. Fear not, you will not be going with Mosul to Syria.”

“There is one thing more. There is something I wish you to do for me.”

His eyes were cool and mocking. “Your favorite slave again? The bodyguard Bardas?”

She hesitated under his scrutiny.
Caution
. Kalid looked to be more suspicious of  her “bodyguard”  than Mosul.  She grappled for something to say to divert him. “With the crusaders about the walls, it will not take them long to capture the Castle of Hohms. Marriage to me will no longer give you control over its favorable location. Why not permit me to return to Constantinople? Neither of us are immature enough to believe that love is the binding cord of any vows we make.”

He remained unmovable. “Within a year the barbarians will weary of their futile drive eastward. In laying siege to Antioch, they meet their doom. They will starve to death before the Turkish commander surrenders the city. If the barbarian horde of locusts are wise, they will see their error and return to the West where they belong. When they do, I shall return to Antioch and lay claim to the Castle of Hohms. There will be no army to aid your emperor.”

“The Normans will not leave. They are as iron-willed as your own people.”

“You appear to know too much about the Norman will, Lady Helena.”

She ignored the subtle insinuation. “Then you still insist I depart with you for Aleppo regardless of Mosul’s plan? In spite of defeat staring Antioch in the face?”

“I made a bargain with your ignoble aunt, Lady Irene.”

“My aunt is dead. So is her son, Philip. The bargain too, should be dead.”

“How do you know they are dead?”

She understood her blunder and tried desperately to shrug it off as nothing. “Bardas told me.”

“Ah? News reached me when I was at Aleppo that it was Irene’s own bodyguard Rufus who slew her. No one seems to know who it was that killed Philip in a duel at the Hippodrome …. Your Bardas could not have known about Philip.”

Helena shrugged again and turned away as though the discussion were nothing but  a hindrance to important decisions. “Nevertheless, the Lysander family has seen much tragedy. It is Nicholas Lysander, my uncle, you must deal with now. If it could be arranged to turn me over to him—
”
.
 

His laugh silenced her. “Ma’sud spared the life of your bodyguard at the castle because he is a man of honor. He could see you cared for him and wished to show a kindness. But, Helena, by now you must know I will do what I must to see my plans enacted. We will speak no more of the matter. We will marry at Aleppo.”

Then there was no way of escape, she decided. Kalid would not relent for he refused to see defeat at the swords of the Normans. She saw her last opening and drew in a breath. “May I request of you a favor?”

“Bardas lives, does he not? What more do you wish?”

“I have warned you about Mosul and his guards. In return for my loyalty, I ask that my eunuch slave leave with me on the caravan, also the boy Jamil and his sister Aziza.”

He paused and watched her so carefully that she could not keep the pink from rising to her cheeks.
I am making blunders!
she thought.
He knows…he guesses. Oh fool that I am
!

“Tell me, Helena of the Nobility, this bodyguard of yours—this heroic man who rode to contest fifty Seljuks to claim you—this ‘eunuch’ you concern yourself with—who sleeps as a pet in your chambers—just why does he mean so much to you?”

She did her best to sound calm. “It as I told your uncle Ma’sud Khan. Bardas served my father. He has been loyal to me since I was a child.”
So far she told the truth about the real Bardas
. “And I fear for his life. Mosul will try and kill him.”

His smile scorned her words as though they were vain. “From what you tell me, Mosul is out to kill us both.”

“He is, I tell you!”

“Then…since you have warned me”—his black eyes turned cold—“your bodyguard must also be warned.”

Her eyes searched his. They told her nothing.

“I will go at once,” she suggested.

“No, it is I who will go to warn him.”

Her eyes widened. “No, you must not.”

“Why? Because you do not wish for me to see him?”

“Mosul will follow you there.”

“Mosul is in no condition at the moment to follow me anywhere.”

“But—his loyal guards are watching your every move. Kalid, please, trust me.”

“Trust you?” he mocked. “Should I?”

“If you permit my bodyguard to come with us on the caravan, unbeknown to Mosul and his guards, I will see to it that he protects you against Mosul.”

Kalid’s expression changed. He was cold and alert. “Indeed? Interesting. I now wish very much to meet this beloved bodyguard of yours. He sounds like a warrior of no equal. Could it be that he and I have met before?”  He turned on his heel, his hand reaching for the door

“Kalid! Where are you going?”

“Your demands I do not appreciate.”

“If you insist upon seeing Bardas, take me with you. He will listen to me.”

He threw open the door. “Your presence will not be required. Guards!”

“Kalid, wait—” but he strode ahead, leaving her behind.

The two guards appeared at once. Prince Kalid gave them a hard appraisal, his hand near his sword.  “See to it my future princess does not leave this chamber until the caravan leaves in the morning.”

“You make a grave error,” she cried.

He whirled. “Silence!”

Helena had no choice; the two guards watched her.

Kalid turned back to the guards. “In the morning bring her to the caravan. I will meet you there. There has been a change in plans. See that your Captain Mosul rides with us from Antioch. I will need him in Aleppo.”

“As you wish, Eminence. Shall we send word to him now?”

“By all means.”

The heavy chamber door shut against her and the outside bolt slid firmly into place. She heard the footsteps of Prince Kalid echoing down the marble hallway.

She fell against the door, despair welling up within her.

Helena sank to the cushions, her heart uplifted in prayer to the Lord God.

Outside in the hall, all was quiet. The night held the threat of danger, and death. Come the breaking of dawn, only the strongest warrior, or the most clever, would still be alive.