The Spymaster's Protection (50 page)

Lucien had grown to respect and like him a great deal in the
months they had been together. He thought about the general’s offer as he rode
across the desert to Jerusalem. De Ridefort wouldn’t be a problem for a while,
but when hostilities ceased, he would certainly come after Lucien.

The Christian army was gone. The king was in custody. The
queen would soon be besieged, and many of the leading barons and what was left
of the military orders were either in Tyre or headed there. Calls for
replacements and recruits would eventually be sent to Europe, but it would be
months before the ranks of the military orders returned to any useful size in
Outremer. Baron Conrad de Montferrat, whose father had been taken prisoner at
Hattin, had recently arrived in Tyre from Constantinople and set himself up as
military commander there. From what Lucien had heard and knew of the man, it
would only be a matter of time before he made a play for the entire kingdom.

Lucien had also heard that Jerusalem had been left poorly
manned, and except for the fact that Tyre was a port city and could more easily
be resupplied, Lucien could not understand why the military orders and what was
left of the Christian army had apparently abandoned it.

What the hell was the point of defending Tyre if Jerusalem
fell? My God, nothing ever changed or seemed to make sense in Outremer anymore!

Ultimately, he and Gabrielle would not be safe in Jerusalem.
There wasn’t any place they would be in Palestine; not if de Ridefort
survived and had his way, and it seemed the bastard always survived.

Quite frankly, he was sick unto death of fighting under men
who defended the kingdom so badly, with such little honor. But he would help
defend Jerusalem. Then after that, he and Gabrielle would talk about what to
do. God help them all, maybe there were still a few who were willing to protect
the queen and the city!

As Lucien neared the walls of the city two days later, he felt
a surge of elation that sent the blood rushing through his veins. It had been
nearly three months since he had last seen Gabrielle, and Lord, how he had
missed her! He had no idea if she even knew he was alive. She had to be beside
herself with worry. He hated the thought of her suffering such anxiety and
distress. He wondered if she knew about Armand and Reynald. Surely, word of
their fates would have been delivered by someone.

He wondered also if he should tell her about the Blue Wolf
being her true father. It might be better to wait to see if the emir survived
the assault on Jerusalem. Then again, she would want to know she was not the
product of Armand Chaumont. It would explain many things to her, though it
might give her little comfort.

Lucien had no easy answers, but he assured himself they would
be resolved as events unfolded. First things first. And that would be taking
her in his arms again, this time forever. The vision of it stayed in the forefront
of his thoughts as he entered the armed gate and headed to the palace.

+++

The past two months, Gabrielle had spent most of her time
working at the orphanage and attending to the hundreds of refugees who had
flooded into Jerusalem. Those that were old or ill were being cared for inside
the Hospital. A portion of the Hospitallers’ living quarters and their chapter
house had been vacated to accommodate the overflow. Outside, in the sprawling
courtyard, there was a sea of tents set up as temporary housing for the many
people who had fled their villages, cities, and castle strongholds in the wake
of the Arab advance. Other religious centers in the city had also taken in
people until the churches, convents, monasteries, and dormitories were filled
to capacity. Even the Temple area accommodated some people, though not as many
as the Hospitaller headquarters did.

The military orders had been decimated at Hattin, and what was
left of them was stationed in Tyre and their remaining castles. Day by day, the
palace had been notified of one stronghold after the other falling. The
brothers of the Temple and the Hospital that were left in the city were mostly
too old to fight. All men of fighting age were either dead or gone.

The queen did not understand their abandonment by the military
orders, although she said if they showed up, she would not accept their
leadership, not after their surrender at Gaza and Ascalon. Gabrielle was glad
of it, for she did not want to encounter the Templar Grand Master again. They
had heard that he had forced Gaza to surrender, thus gaining his freedom from
Saladin. Then he had fled to Tyre with the Gaza garrison.

It seemed the kingdom was cut in half. To the north, Tyre
still stood in the hands of the Christians, and to the south, Jerusalem. In
between, there was devastation.

There were so few to defend Jerusalem should Saladin attack.
The city was jammed with refugees from the region, but precious few fighting
men. Most men in the city were merchants, farmers, shopkeepers, tradesmen, laborers,
and younger sons of the nobility. There was a great deal of enthusiasm from the
refugees and citizens to defend the city, but little military experience.

Lord Balian of Ibelin had showed up a sennight ago to join his
wife and family, who had fled from Nablus when it had been overtaken. Though he
had given Saladin his word not to raise arms against him again, he was being
besieged with requests from the citizenry and the queen to command the city’s
defenses.

Yesterday, he had begun mustering what forces and supplies he
could gather from within the city. He had told the queen of his plans to do the
same from the surrounding countryside. Any man who could hold a weapon was
being asked to help defend the city. Churches were being asked to donate their valuables
to pay fighting men, and offers of knighthood were being extended to many of
the men. Whatever inducements could be found were being offered in a desperate
struggle to build up the city’s defenses before Saladin arrived. Everyone knew
that he would come soon.

Days and nights had blended endlessly into one another for
Gabrielle. After hearing that so many Templars and Hospitallers had been
executed at Hattin and in Damascus, she had shut herself off from everyone and
stayed in her room for a week, weeping and grieving for Lucien. It had seemed
so cruel that she had at last found love, only to lose it. In despair, she had
begun to think about joining a convent.

Then Brother Conrad had arrived at the palace. He announced
that Lucien was alive, though he was being held captive by the Blue Wolf.
Conrad had heard from his Arab captors that the general had taken Lucien with
him on his journey in Saladin’s wake. His fate sounded similar to that of the
Templar Grand Master’s and King Guy’s.

Gabrielle had been dizzy with joy to learn Lucien had not been
executed with his military brothers. Though he was no longer a Templar, she had
felt certain that he had stood with his brethren at the battle of Hattin. He
was a loyal man and a steadfast friend; a man who would have fought beside his
friends, despite his disavowal.

Conrad de Morgarten had also told Gabrielle the tale of
Lucien’s self-sacrifice after the battle at Hattin. If not for his courageous
bartering with Saladin for his brother’s life, Conrad would be dead now. And
she learned Lucien’s appeal had saved the lives of two Hospitallers, as well.
His valiant heroism did not come as a surprise to Gabrielle. It had filled her
with pride and deepened her love for him, and it truly illustrated the kind of
man she had come to discover he was. Sibylla had been equally moved upon
hearing the tale. Even Silvia, who had finally come to court, had been stirred
by the chronicle.

Afterwards, the story of Lucien de Aubric’s brave appeal to
Saladin was widely circulated. Conrad also told everyone of his friend’s
heroism on the battlefield. Talk grew to exaggerated proportions. But Gabrielle
had simply been thankful that he was alive and well. His captivity would end
eventually, for she did not believe the Blue Wolf would harm him. She had met
the emir and been unexpectedly moved by his honor and concern.

Then rumors reached the court that Gérard de Ridefort
considered Lucien a traitor. Conrad had returned to his brethren in Tyre by then,
and since there was no reason given why the Grand Master considered his
ex-Chief of Intelligence a turncoat, there was no one to refute the
accusations.

Gabrielle knew them to be untrue and defended him at every
turn. The queen did so just as vehemently, reminding everyone that her own
husband had been forced to negotiate with his subjects on behalf of the enemy
at Ascalon. In times of war, men did what they had to do to save lives, she
reminded Lucien’s detractors.

The rumors died down completely when Balian of Ibelin returned
to the palace and heard them. He repeated Conrad’s tales of Lucien’s bravery
and valiant efforts to aid the king’s army. Deeply respected, his word was
accepted as the final judgment on the matter.

Now, nearly a sennight later, the matter was over, much to
Gabrielle’s relief. But she had awoken this morning with a strange feeling of
expectancy. It lingered with her as she left her room at the palace and made
her way to the Hospitaller commandery.

After checking in with some of the nuns working in the
orphanage, she left for the hospital across the way. She felt so restless, it
was hard to concentrate as she proceeded from one bed to the next, offering
comfort, conversation, and care.

She was reading to a sergeant suffering from a brutal head
wound inflicted at Hattin when she caught sight of a tall dark robed Arab
moving rapidly through the rows of hospital pallets. It appeared as if he was
looking for someone. She rose from her chair to view him more closely, for
there was something indefinably familiar about the way he moved. When he moved
nearer and finally turned fully toward her, she recognized him at once.

“
Lucien!”
Gabrielle cried out his name and picked up
her skirts to run toward him. Clothed in dusty robes and a banded headscarf, he
took long ground-eating strides toward her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as
she threw herself into his open arms. “Oh, thank God, thank God!”

“Gabi!” Lucien wrapped her tightly in his embrace and ground
his lips against hers, halting her repeated prayer of gratitude. Her feet were
lifted completely off the floor as he devoured her mouth, then cupped her
veiled head and nuzzled her cheek and ear, dislodging the linen kufiyya she
wore. “My God! How I’ve missed you, my heart!”

Behind them, someone started to clap. Soon others followed
suit.

Tears were still streaming down her cheeks unchecked when
Lucien finally set her back on her feet again. He did not release her, though,
but continued to clasp her loosely in his arms. Gabrielle could not have stood
without their support. Her own slipped around his waist, inside his robes as
she laid her head on his chest, over his fiercely beating heart. Never in her
life had she heard anything so joyous or reassuring!

When she trusted herself to speak, she stepped back and lifted
a hand to his beloved face. Her fingers smoothed over his cheek and
short-cropped beard. “You are uninjured? You are well?”

Despite their audience, Lucien could not stop touching her. He
cradled her face in his large hand and kissed her tenderly this time, savoring
her sweet taste like a man gone without water for days. He simply could not get
enough of her.

He finally lifted his dark head and gazed down into her watery
midnight blue eyes. “I have been well tended by the Blue Wolf’s physicians. I
was not grievously injured at Hattin.”

“Why did he keep you captive so long, Lucien?”

He smiled at her and hooked an arm around her shoulders. “It
is a long story, my love. Are you done here for the day?”

Gabrielle looked over her shoulder and her eyes swept their
audience with a smile. “I think my friends will excuse me early.”

Those patients closest to her in the room readily agreed and
urged her to leave with the man they knew she had been anxiously waiting for
these past weeks.

“I was surprised to not find you at the orphanage,” Lucien
commented as he walked her out of the hospital, into the courtyard.

“I try to divide my time between the two. There are so many
here, as you can see. Many refugees have flocked into Jerusalem. After I heard
what happened at Hattin, I did not leave the palace for days, waiting for word,
heartsick that I may have lost you. When Brother Conrad finally came to the
palace to tell me what had happened to you, I began to hope again, though I was
still deeply worried. I have been so afraid for you, Lucien.”

Taking her hand, he marveled at how small and delicate it
looked resting in his. He could tell she had been troubled for a long time. She
had lost some weight, and there were dark circles under her eyes. “I wish I
could have returned to you sooner, but we will never be apart again, Gabi.”

“You are not going to join Count Raymond and the others in
Tyre? It seems every available fighting man has headed there.”

“Nay. I am remaining here. And I am done fighting, except in
defense of you and, it appears, this city one last time.” Lucien looked down at
her solemnly. “Saladin will be arriving at our gates within a few weeks. This
is the prize, afterall.”

“Apparently only he considers it so,” Gabrielle said bitterly.
Outside the gates to the Hospitaller complex, she stopped and turned solemnly
to look at Lucien. “Will we survive his assault?”

“
We
will,” he answered her assuredly.

+++

At the palace, Lucien met with the queen and Lord Balian
d’Ibelin. Sibylla was elated to see him, as was his friend from Nablus, but she
was bewildered and furious over the apparent abandonment of Jerusalem by the
Grand Masters and barons.

Lucien explained that Tyre was considered easier to defend
because it sat at the end of a long sandy isthmus and could be easily
resupplied from the sea. “But, despite that advantage, I do not understand the
desertion of Jerusalem, either, though the region between here and Tyre is
crawling with Saladin’s forces.”