When Thibaut strummed the final chord, everybody clapped, myself included.
“You show me great kindness, your Majesty,” said Jean. “There is no greater honor than to serve as a subject for your singing.” He sounded like a little brother acknowledging the elder’s authority, and Thibaut growled with satisfaction.
Cedrique barked as if to confirm, and everyone burst out laughing. Thibaut patted the handsome dog on the head with pride. Jean bade good morning to each of Thibaut’s knights and then sat down beside me. Hugh joined the others.
“How did you pass the night, my lady?” Jean asked quietly. He moved his hand closer to mine, as if wanting to hold it, and then lightly shook his head and placed both his hands on his knees.
“I slept like a log,” I said. “But I woke up very early and was unable to fall back asleep,” I added, mostly to explain how it happened that I was dozing off in a room full of people. I wanted to tell him about the dream of the little green car, but the moment was not right.
“How did you sleep, my lord?” I asked instead of telling him about the dream.
“I did not sleep much,” said Jean. When he saw the embarrassment on my face, he hurried to add, “I had a great deal of work to attend to.”
I began to say something and then realized that it was not appropriate, and I tried to say something else, but this was not suitable either. I was disheartened by the formality between us.
Thibaut continued to strum and sing, and his people continued to sing and play along. Every now and then came an outburst of laughter.
“Let’s go out to the balcony,” said Jean, so we did.
Beneath the climbing grapevine, he asked again how I was doing. This time I told him—without too much detail—about Thibaut’s visitand his offer to sail me back to Atlit today or tomorrow. Jean’s face fell, but he nodded.
“The Lady Alice, my wife, was very curious to meet you,” he said with a half-apologetic smile.
Good God.I cast a glance into the room in the hopes that the young Burgundy had already returned from the Master of the Templars.
“I told her that you are very shy and humble, and that all you want is to see the holy places and to visit my sister at her convent,” said Jean, his gaze directed at the harbor. “But she claimed that she could not forgo a meeting with one of my relations that she had never heard of. I fear that we may have gotten somewhat enmeshed, my dear Lady Édith.” He spoke as if this were amusing to him. It did not amuse me, but it touched my heart that he called me “my dear.”
I could now see the city spread out before us. It was not as dense, noisy, and dirty as I had imagined every large, bustling Levantine city to be. Most of it was built of stone, there were broad passages, and now I could also see the many stone domes and colorful flags. The city had a quiet splendor, full of self-worth. Sea birds screeched and flew over the ships in the bay, and sailboats of all shapes and sizes were moored in the small harbor.
“What a gorgeous city,” I said, just to say something.
Jean snorted.
“You don’t think so?”
“Indeed, from the heights of the luxurious rooms in the Venetian inn, it really is beautiful,” Jean agreed. “But when you are near the ports and the craftsmen’s neighborhoods, the stench is strong, and the density is high,” he said with disdain. “I am waiting impatiently for the moment when my castle’s construction is complete, and I can look out at the sea without thinking about all the waste that is thrown into it every day.”
“Arsur!” Thibaut’s voice called from inside the room. “Come here!”
Jean apologized to me and went inside. I remained standing on the balcony, my hands resting on the stone railing between the ornamental clay pots. I continued to look out at the city, my head empty of thoughts. Jean returned.
“My lady,” he said, “the king asked that I collect an illuminated manuscript ordered some months ago from the scriptorium of the Holy Cross. I thought this might be a good opportunity to have a nice trip with you and speak privately.”
“In the stinking, dense city?” I asked mockingly. Jean chuckled. Now, when he was less troubled and anxious, he was as attractive to me as ever. He had also evidently bathed the night before, or this morning, because a sweet, lemony scent came off him in waves; his hair was neatly gathered under his velvet beret; his handsome brown beard was brushed; and he wore his red-gold clothes without the chainmail and leather gloves. I wondered if there were any chance at all that I could pull him into the fluffy bed in my room downstairs.
“I might have exaggerated a little,” Jean said good-naturedly. “There are some very nice parts.”
We parted from Thibaut—who waved goodbye to us without pausing his singing—and we went down to my room, where I took the cape that Jean loaned me to keep me warm the day before. Hugh remained in Thibaut’s rooms to wait for us and to run and summon us in case the king’s messenger should return from the Templars with an urgent message.
As we descended the stone steps to the entrance level of the inn, the description of which was not at all suitable to its dimensions or its elegant grandeur, I felt a kind of elation once again.What do I care about anything? I don’t care at all, I hummed to myself as the entrance hall was revealed before me, its floor colorful with mosaics depicting a large ship at sea and golden portraits of saints on the walls.
A servant standing by the large wooden door bowed to us. We walked out into the street.
I was surprised that it was paved with stones—I had always imagined the cities of the Middle Ages as paths of mud, rotting wood, and sewage. We walked through the streets hand in hand, crossing plazas with fountains, decorated with beds of blooming flowers and covered stalls crammed with wares: fruits, vegetables, fabrics, copper tools, wooden tools, iron tools, leather products, spices, icons, and all kinds of devices whose purpose I did not recognize. The streets were full of noblemen in velvet and silk, merchants from different and strange lands, clerics in black and brown woolen clothes, and harried servants running from one task to the next.
The city stunned me with its beauty; with its paved streets and broad wooden steps wound through churches, monasteries, and palaces; and with sprawling plazas dotted with trees and benches. When did they get around to building all this? How long had they even been here? I tried to calculate—I got to something like a hundred and fifty years.Don’t gape, I kept having to remind myself. Here and there, passersby nodded to Jean, and he responded with a head gesture of his own. It did not seem that he was trying to hide the fact that he and I had close relations.
“Tell me, my lady, did Thibaut coerce you in some manner to return to the Pilgrim Castle?” Jean asked without looking at me.
