“Not yet,” Berengaria answered.
Both of them watched as the count spoke to the men. His tone held arrogance, but Adriana thought she heard him speaking the Greek language. Queen Joan had already reached the shore and was preparing to join the count. The woman marched forward, her bearing filled with pride. The count pointed to her, and then to Berengaria and Adriana.
“Don’t tell them,” Adriana whispered, as if pleading for the man to remain silent.
But it was too late. To her horror, one of the armed men unsheathed his sword and plunged it into the count’s chest. The nobleman sank to his knees, falling against the sand while his life blood spilled out.
Saints deliver us. Adriana covered her mouth, shocked by what she’d just seen. Queen Joan grasped her skirts and fled back to the water. Liam called out for her to come toward them, and he reached them a moment later.
The princess was trembling with fear, and from the gleam in the soldiers’ eyes, Adriana didn’t know if they would be imprisoned or killed the moment they emerged from the water.
“The count told them who you are,” Liam said grimly. “Our best hope is that they take you hostage.”
But Adriana knew that MacEgan’s life was in greater danger than her own. Already these men had killed the count, so it was clear they had no use for the men. “You need to swim hard towards the other three ships anchored off the coast,” she ordered. “If you reach one of them, you can alert Richard and return for us.”
“I can’t leave you here alone,” he argued.
The horsemen started to ride forward, and their time was running out. “You must,” Adriana insisted. “If what you say is true, then they won’t kill us because they’ll want to use our lives to bargain with Richard. If you stay, your fate will be the same as the count’s.”
His face hardened, but Princess Berengaria regarded him. “Go, MacEgan. I am commanding you, as your future queen.”
An unnamed expression crossed his face, and Adriana remembered that he was Irish, not English. He did not truly consider himself subject to the queen’s commands. But instead, she asked gently, “Please. Go to Richard. You’re our best hope to survive.”
Before he could move, the soldiers charged forward with their horses. Armed men surrounded them, with spears and swords raised as a visible threat. Adriana held her breath, not knowing what to do now. The soldiers reached for MacEgan, but he made no effort to fight.
In the Norman tongue, he commanded, “Obey their orders.” His eyes met Adriana’s, and she saw the softer assurance within them. “I’ll return to you. I swear it.”
MacEgan moved so fast, the princess barely had time to get out of the way. It took only seconds for him to drag a soldier down from his horse, smashing his fist into the man’s face. When a second man tried to stab him with a spear, MacEgan grasped the weapon, twisting it free of the soldier’s hands. Now armed, he seized the first soldier’s horse and rode the animal hard along the shoreline, forcing the others to follow. Three men remained behind with her and Adriana, one of them seizing Queen Joan.
She held her breath as MacEgan reached the deeper water. He stood up on the horse’s back and dove into the waves, disappearing from view. Adriana watched, but she couldn’t see him among the wreckage. What had happened? Had he drowned? Without knowing why, hot tears broke free. She’d barely met this man, but she hated the thought of losing him.
“Don’t be afraid,” Berengaria whispered to her. “I believe him. He’ll find a way to send a rescue.”
But when they didn’t see him resurface above the waves, Adriana feared the worst.
The Isle of Rhodes
April 22, 1192
“Where are they, Sir Bernard?” King Richard demanded.
The knight’s face paled. “We—we don’t know, Your Grace. There are twenty-five ships missing, and unfortunately, Princess Berengaria’s was among them.” He lowered his head in regret. “We believe the storm may have blown them off course.”
“There were two hundred and nineteen ships, Bernard.” Richard fought to keep his temper under control. “And youmean to tell me that not one of them saw where Berengaria’s ship disappeared?”
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. But we’ll send out ships to search for your bride—“
“Out,” Richard ordered, pointing towards the door. The knight fled, like the coward he was. Right now, Richard’s temper was about to break loose. Crete and Rhodes were meant to be rendezvous points, where they would stop for a few days en route to Acre. But his betrothed wife wasn’t on either island.
She might be dead, her body resting at the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea. He expelled a breath, imagining Berengaria’s dark hair, her lovely eyes and form. He’d been looking forward to marrying her, understanding what sort of woman lay behind the unbridled honesty. He hardly knew her at all, but her spirit intrigued him.
Outside, the sky was clear, the sun bright and warm. The deep azure water nestled against white sand, an idyllic place to walk with a lover. He traced the emerald ring that lay upon his smallest finger. She’d given it to him in Sicily, a token that had aroused strong memories of the night he’d first taken it from her. Seeing it now only fueled his anger. He would find her, no matter how long it took. She belonged to him.
He gestured for a servant to summon one of the ships’ captains. If no one could find the women or the ships containing the treasures for his Crusade, he would stop on every island en route to Syria.
But when the captain arrived, he bowed and pleaded, “Your Grace, we have news of the princess.”
Moments later, the Irish prince, Liam MacEgan, emerged from among the men. The man looked as though he hadn’t slept in days, and bloodstains marred his face.
