No Price Too High (20 page)

“When Falla finds out the truth, there will be the devil to pay.”

Kalinin's smile vanished into a taut frown. “I hope I have not made matters worse.”

“You could not.” She knocked on the tiles beside Lysias's door. Entering a room without waiting for permission was another aspect of the
harim
that she could not become acclimated to. No wonder Gabriel had taken her away from her rooms. He knew, even with Karim Pasa guarding the door, that someone might walk in at any moment. In a world where every intimacy was openly discussed, privacy had little value. But Gabriel had arranged for them to be alone. As she waited for Lysias to call them to come in, she wrapped the memory of Gabriel's touch around her like a favorite cloak.

The curtains were flung aside, and Melisande backpedaled into Kalinin. She stared in disbelief as Lysias rushed out of the room. Lysias pressed her hand to her side as she gasped in rhythm with her heavy steps.

Melisande took her arm and sat her on a bench beneath a flowering tree. “What is wrong, Lysias?”

She pushed herself to her feet. “Child, you must come with me. At once.”

“Why? What is wrong?”

“Come. We have no time for your questions.”

Melisande exchanged a worried glance with Kalinin, who shrugged. Lysias grasped her hand and drew her to Melisande's rooms. When she saw fear on Lysias's face, she tried to curb her curiosity. Kalinin hurried after them just as the doors were being pulled shut by a pair of serving maids.

“Lysias—”

“I must catch my breath.” She ran her hand through her gray hair and lurched to a chair.

“Wait with her,” Kalinin said. “I will send Karim Pasa for something for her to drink.”

Lysias shook her head as she sat. “You will not find him. He is busy.” She leaned her face into her hands. “I told him to send Falla to the caliph without delay.”

“Why?” asked Melisande as Kalinin's eyes widened in amazement. “What is wrong?”

Lysias took her hand and drew her down onto some pillows beside her. “News of the
Franj
army at Acre has reached us.”

“What kind of news?” she whispered, clutching the arm of Lysias's chair until she feared her fingers would cut into it. Somehow she found the strength to ask, “Gabriel?”

The older woman patted her hand gently. “It is not as you fear, child. The
shaykh
is the one who brought these tidings here.”

“What tidings?” She wished Lysias would stop talking around and around and tell her what was happening in Acre.

“After nearly two years of being under siege, Acre has been taken by the
Franj
.”

“Oh …” She did not know what else to say. She should have been thrilled that the Crusaders had gained a foothold in the Holy Land on the way to Jerusalem. Richard had vowed he would not stop until he reached that city. Yet, this meant that the battles had just begun. Fighting across the plains where so little grew would leave men and horses dead before a sword was drawn.

She closed her eyes and prayed her father had survived the battle. Asking Lysias would be useless. No one who carried the news from Acre would care which Crusader survived. Another shiver raged through her. The fall of Acre opened the way for the Crusaders to come to
Mukhdarr
.

She leaned her head on her arms on Lysias's chair, but could not escape the image of her father facing Gabriel across bare swords. Only one could live. She did not want that day to come, for she did not want to watch one of them die. Or, she realized with a thud of horror, both of them.

“There is more.” Lysias's hands tightened in her lap until her knuckles bleached.

“More?” She wanted to plead with Lysias not to tell her more, but hiding from the truth would gain her nothing.

“The
Franj
king, the one you call Richard, tired of negotiating for peace and ordered the execution of every prisoner captured in Acre.”

Melisande stared at her in disbelief. “You must have heard wrong. The Crusaders are pledged to bringing peace to this land so that all might journey to Jerusalem. King Richard would not order such a thing.”

“I tell you the truth.”

Kalinin moaned and hid her face.

“How many?” Melisande asked, although again she did not want to know.

“Nearly twenty-five hundred men.”

“Twenty-five hundred men?” Her face grew cold. “He ordered twenty-five hundred men put to death?”

“Child, that was only the beginning. Your
Franj
king commanded his men to kill not only the soldiers, but their women and children as well.”

“No!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I don't believe this. King Richard would not order that. It is a sin for a Crusader to do such a thing.”

“For anyone.”

At the softly spoken words, Melisande buried her face in Lysias's lap and wept. This was not how the Holy Crusade should be. She had believed that it was right and good. She had believed that even when she saw how Geoffrey and his friend Lord Vaudrey had profited from living in Tyre. She had believed that even when King Richard remained on Cyprus to gain himself a kingdom there. But how could she believe it any longer when the blood of innocents had stained the sand?

Kalinin whispered, “What will happen now?”

“I do not know.” Lysias wiped Melisande's face with her silken sleeve. “You are no longer an enemy to those of us who have come to love you.” She sighed. “But there is one here who has no reason to offer you clemency.”

“Falla—”

Lysias shook her head. “Falla is of no importance, although I suspect she has further poisoned the caliph's mind against you.”

“The caliph!” Melisande stood. “If he were to order Gabriel to rid his house of any
Franj
—”

“No!” shrieked Kalinin. “Do not speak of such things. I cannot bear it.”

“I cannot tell you,” Lysias said, rising and putting her hand on Melisande's arm, “what the
shaykh
plans. Ours are the ways of women. We know the pain of this loss, but we know you played no part in the massacre ordered by the
Franj
king. The
shaykh's
—and the caliph's—shall be the pain of men, who must put honor before the longings of the heart.”

Melisande went to the shuttered doors and opened the one to the garden. From where she stood, she could see the wall that surrounded the secret cavern where Gabriel had taught her of love. She understood what Lysias could not say. The same man who had held her with such passion and whispered of his longing to linger with her in rapture could be the man who obeyed his caliph's order to execute her in retaliation for the deaths beyond the walls of Acre.

The door from the
mabeyin
opened.

She turned and gasped when Gabriel stepped into the room. His clothes were rusty with dry blood and dirt. A gash ripped into his forehead still oozed, and he leaned heavily on the wall.

Rushing to him, she pulled his arm around her shoulder. Lysias and Kalinin watched in silent shock as she helped him to a chair. When he winced as he sat, she glanced over her shoulder. As she had guessed, Karim Pasa was following him into the room.

“I can bring salve and water, milady,” he said, anxiety digging deep furrows into his face.

“No, it would be better to take him to my bathing room. Help me with him and then bring the salve you used to heal my arm. If—”

Gabriel grumbled, “I have walked this far. I can walk to the bathing room without you hovering over me like a bird over her nest.”

She was glad when Karim Pasa paid no more attention to Gabriel's words than she did. Helping Gabriel to his feet, Karim Pasa guided him to the bathing room.

“Kalinin,” she said over her shoulder, “please send for water so we can tend to Gabriel's wounds.” She took Lysias's hand and tugged her toward the door. “Come with me. I know you, too, want to learn what has happened.”

Lysias halted her from rushing after the men. “Child, I fear for you as well.”

“I don't want to think of that now.”

“Does he know that you love him so much?” Lysias asked with a sad smile.

She nodded.

“It is good that you love my son who loves you.”

“Does he?” She walked toward the curtains that still fluttered behind Gabriel and Karim Pasa. She paused by them and faced the older woman. “I wish I could be sure of that.”

“I know my son. I know I have never seen such a fire in his eyes as when he looks upon you.”

Melisande wished she could believe what Lysias said, but she no longer trusted her heart. It had led her to pledge her life to the Crusade without realizing what she might find here. If she let it persuade her that Gabriel loved her, she could be as cruelly disappointed again.

Pushing through the curtains, she went to where Gabriel was sitting on the table. She took a cloth from Karim Pasa and dipped it into water that was waiting beside him. Lifting Gabriel's hair away from his forehead, she dabbed the cloth on the gash as she instructed Karim Pasa to have the bathing trough filled and fresh clothing brought for Gabriel.

He muttered something.

When his mother laughed and Karim Pasa smiled, Melisande asked, “What is so amusing?”

“You.” He locked his fingers behind her, tugging her between his knees and up against the table.

“Me? Why?”

His hands slid up her back. “You give orders to my household as if
you
were the
shaykh
.”

“When you have been knocked about like this, someone must see that you are tended to.”

When his mouth claimed hers, she sensed the desperation in his kiss. She drew back, but he gave her no chance to seek the truth in his eyes. His arm became a clamp around her as his lips stroked hers. Leaning her back against one arm, he deepened the kiss until she gasped against his mouth.

“Oh, my! I did not mean to intrude.”

At Kalinin's flurry of words, Gabriel wanted to curse. Not only did they pound in his sore skull, but Melisande started to step away. His arm around her waist herded her back toward him as he said, “I would speak with Melisande alone.”

Kalinin gave Melisande a fearful glance, then hurried out.

“
Shaykh
,” Lysias said quietly, “heed the words of your mother today if you never do again. Melisande should not bear the punishment for the crimes of the
Franj
.”

His face remained taut. “I will heed you, Mother, for I agree.”

Lysias brushed Melisande's hair back gently, tears glistening in her eyes. As she turned to step through the door Karim Pasa held, they fell along her round cheeks.

“Alone,” repeated Gabriel.

Karim Pasa bowed his head and left, drawing the door closed.

The
shaykh
ran his fingers along her cheek. How could everything have gone wrong so swiftly? “From the expressions on my mother's face and on yours, Melisande, I know you have heard about the massacre at Acre.”

“Yes.” She wrapped some of the fabric Karim Pasa had brought around his forehead and tied it into place, trying not to brush the scrapes along his cheek. “But how did you get hurt like this? You could not have been near Acre.”

“Before we could set a trap for the hill bandits, they tried to escape from their hiding place. Someone had alerted them.”

She dabbed more salve on his face. “Who?”

“I don't know.” He stood and put his hand to his head. It ached as if the tunnel had come crashing down upon it. “We questioned the thieves we captured. They gave us no information.”

“Would they reveal to the caliph—”

He flinched as he had not when the sword had cut into him just outside the mountain pass. That she could speak of the caliph now revealed the depth of her courage. She would need every bit of that courage now.

Taking her hand, he brought her back into her bedchamber. “It is not to speak of the thieves that I sent everyone else away.”

“I know.”

“Those deaths at the walls of Acre are only the beginning.”

She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.

“Salah ed-Din Yusuf has vowed to see the blood of every
Franj
wash away this horror.”

“But, Gabriel, what of you?” She grasped his hands and gazed up at him, despair stealing the light from her eyes. “Will he order your death?” she questioned wryly. “Or must you spill only half your blood?”

He murmured her name as he brought her mouth to his again. If he could lose himself in the delicate fire of her touch, mayhap he could forget what he must do. Twisting his fingers through her hair, he moaned as her cheek brushed his. Again she drew back too soon. What did a bit of pain matter when all of ecstasy awaited in her arms?

“Gabriel,” she whispered, “you are avoiding giving me an answer.”

Releasing her, he sat in the chair near her bed. The clangor in his head was only growing more violent. “I have proven my worth and loyalty,” he said as she knelt beside him. “However, your vow to the
Franj
Crusade will mean your death if you do not renounce it.”

Melisande put her hand on Gabriel's strong forearm. “How can I renounce a vow?”

“You could take another,
az-Zahra
.”

“Another vow?” Her heartbeat quickened. Lysias had told her that Gabriel looked at her as he had not any other woman. Mayhap he did love her.

She pulled her gaze from his to glance around the room with its soaring arches and tiles. To wed him would mean staying in this strange world forever, cut off from what she had known. To wed him was to accept that he might choose another to marry as well. To wed him was to share the boundless joy she had discovered in his arms.

“I know,” he whispered, “of no other way to save you.”

“Gabriel, if we were to marry—”

“Marry?” He pushed himself to his feet. “Are you mad?”