“What a handsome boy,” said Alice and patted his head. “How he looks like his father. Right, Cousin Édith?” She turned her huge, honey eyes to me.
I nodded weakly. He really did resemble Jean.
“Are you behaving yourself, Little Balian?” Alice turned back to her son. He nodded vigorously, and his eyes looked askance at the refreshments on the table.
“Good for you,” said Alice. “Take a few fruits for yourself and go back to Katerina.” The boy smiled broadly, which made him look even more like Jean. He took a few dried apricots and left with the nanny. I swallowed hard, and it hurt. Alice waited several seconds after the door closed and turned back to me, taking up the spindle again.
“In that case,” said Alice, drawing out the syllables, “you wish to visit Isabelle at that godforsaken convent where she stuck herself. So, why did you travel to Acre if your route is meant to lead you to the desert?”
I took time chewing the piece of fig that I had in my mouth and finally answered, “Cousin Jean said that he had letters that he wanted to pass along to her before I left.” I had no other choice. This was the only excuse that I had heard Jean offer for my evidently incomprehensible joining of the royal journey to Acre. I hadn’t the faintest idea, of course, if this is what Jean had told his wife.
“Yes, that’s exactly what Cousin Jean said,” said Alice, almost amused. Sweat broke out in my armpits. I was just about to feign a fainting spell to break out of this situation when Jean entered. Maybe he had been meditating, or the devil knows what, because he looked relaxed and calm and smiled at both of us congenially.
“What a warm, homey sight,” he said, turning his eyes to Alice. “My beloved wife and my dear cousin, taking their rest together.” It sounded as if he really meant it. I held back from letting out a snort, but Alice grinned with her whole mouth.
“Don’t exaggerate, Cousin,” she said, emphasizing the wordcousinmockingly again, but she did not look angry. And he smiled and said, “And you, do not scare away our guest, my lady. She is weak as it is.”
Good Lord, I thought and set the second fig that I’d begun eating down on the table,what kind of twisted game have I been caught up in?“My cousin, my lady,” I said in a cutting tone and stood up. “I thank you for your warm hospitality. I feel that I am stronger and would like to go back to my room in the inn and stop bothering you with my presence.”
Alice burst out laughing. “Too late,” she said. “My husband’s scandalous behavior has set all the tongues in town running wild with gossip. Not long ago, rumors came from the Pilgrim Castle of a most strange, green-eyed cousin, who might actually be a witch, or perhaps a fairy, and now there is no way out but to pretend to everyone that you are indeed a cousin.” She bit her lips and then tilted her head to the side. “I never saw a fairy before, nor a witch, and I never expected to have the opportunity to assess my master’s taste in women,” she added in her unbroken, unhurried pronunciation, as if none of this really concerned her at all.
Jean rolled his eyes. “Lady Alice likes to err on the side of illusions and invent strange stories for herself, Cousin,” he said, as if filling me in on a known flaw. “This is the result of an overly sharp mind that does not find its outlet in the dreary management of the household.”
There was silence for several seconds.
“Well, then,” I finally said, stuttering, “well, then, good for you both, and wonderful; I ask your forgiveness.” Alice chuckled, and a look of sympathy came to Jean’s face.Let me not wake up until Jean takes me to my spring already instead of humiliating me before his wife.I began toconcentrate on this while Jean and Alice discussed how Jean must present the manuscript to Thibaut, when a quick knock sounded.
It was Hugh, and again Alice donned a kind of motherly countenance. She made sure that he ate and drank properly and that he was being duly hosted—as she remarked—at the king’s court, and only then did she permit him to say what he had come to say.
“My lord,” Hugh said looking toward Jean. “His Royal Highness, in his grace, sent me to inform you that there will be a sailing to the Pilgrim Castle leaving today after all. The grand master decided to move up his sailing and will take to the sea just as soon as Lady Édith comes aboard, sir. They said that the wind is perfect. I did not find you at the cathedral, my lord, and it took me some time to realize that you had come home, so I imagine you had better make haste.”
“Thank you, Hugh,” said Jean. “Go bring the wooden chest from the table in my office and come back here.” Hugh nodded, bowed from the doorway, and disappeared.
“Out by the skin of your teeth,” said Alice and smiled at me. “Go in peace and never return to Acre, do you understand?”
“I will never return, my lady,” I said humbly and meant it. Later, I was angry at myself for being such a doormat, but in that moment, I felt awe and respect for her. She was a true and unapologetic lady, a ruler of her own world.
CHAPTER 25
From the moment that we left the house of Rohard, Lord of Haifa, until we boarded the boat that whisked us from the harbor to the grand master of the Knights Templar’s ship, everything moved quickly. It took me time to get over the shock of meeting Alice and the sense that I had seen a side of Jean that I had not dared imagine. Jean, Hugh, and I rode to the Venetian inn, and Brunette ran along beside us. At the inn, we presented ourselves before Thibaut. He and his knights were practicing fencing in the large inner courtyard, surrounded by columns, and we had to interrupt him to say goodbye.
Jean showed Thibaut the carved wooden box containing the illuminated manuscript.
“Thank you, my boy,” said Thibaut and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He sent one of his knights to take the box upstairs to his rooms for safe storage, then turned back to us.
“I trust, my lady,” he said, twirling his long mustache between his fingertips, “that you will not kidnap Arsur.” He smiled paternally at Jean and added, looking back at me, “You know that if you drag him into oblivion, I will track you like a bloodhound—even into the Otherworld.”
I nodded and smiled at him like I would an old friend. I could not refrain from imagining Thibaut passing through the spring and suddenlymaterializing in the twenty-first century, shouting and expecting full service from everyone. This made my smile broader, but I replied appropriately.
“I would not steal such an asset from the Holy Kingdom of Jerusalem,” I said. “And I wish, your Majesty, that your journey be successful and bear sweet fruit.”
Thibaut’s stern look softened, and he took my hand and brought it to his lips. Astonishment crossed Jean’s face.
“I am most pleased to have made your acquaintance, my lady,” said Thibaut after kissing the back of my hand with surprising delicacy. “Under different circumstances …” He did not finish the sentence, rapped Jean on the shoulder without looking at him, and turned back to his knights, who continued to spar in pairs. He raised his sword and cried, “Bar, come on! Show me a fighting spirit!”
We went down to the harbor. There, we parted from Hugh, who expressed faint indignation, but Jean told him in a fatherly way that he trusted him to care properly for the Lady Alice. Hugh relented and straightened up, bowed to both of us, and left. We boarded the boat, which took us to the little ship that was anchored in the bay, whose crew appeared to be bustling with final preparations for the sailing.
Brunette, who came with us, appeared familiar with the process and stayed calm even when the sailors threw down a kind of basket that Jean placed her in and that lifted her aboard. We climbed up a rope ladder. Jean turned to greet a large, impressive man, similar to Thibaut in his arrogant expression, his hair, and his mighty mustache, but somehow rougher in appearance—even though he wore bright white silk Templar robes, densely embroidered with a red cross.
