“Which he conquered. There was much rejoicing here when word finally came. Was it glorious?”
He supposed people did think it glorious to win battles, especially ones like that. But talk of this had dimmed his joy in having her, because she did not understand what that Crusade had taken from him.
“There isn’t much glory in war, Elinor.” He caressed her face, stroking some damp locks off her brow. “It is a black moment when you kill your first man. It matters not what his religion or birth was. It becomes easier with time. For some men, too easy.”
She gazed at him as if she pondered his words. “If it did not become easier, there could be no wars.”
“That’s the truth of it.” Being a woman, she probably thought that preferable. There were times when he did too.
“Is that why you left? Because it had become too easy?”
He looked at her, surprised. How like Elinor to see more than anyone else.
“Forgive me,” she said. “But. . . you said the years had changed you, and they have. Not all the time. But there are moments when you appear far away in your thoughts, and quite old.”
His soul churned. Her words conjured memories that he did not welcome. They came at night sometimes, in dreams, when he had no control over his mind.
“I left because killing had become too easy and still not easy enough for the king’s purposes.”
She rose up on one arm and looked down at him. He felt her gaze searching his face as if she could read the truth there without asking for it in words.
He pulled her back down into his arms. “After the victory at Acre, Richard and Saladin, the Saracen leader, made a truce. An exchange of prisoners was part of it. Saladin handing over the True Cross was another part. There were other things too. A date was set for it to take effect. Only neither one wanted to release his prisoners first.”
“They didn’t trust each other to complete the exchange.”
“They did not. Neither trusted the other to uphold the treaty.”
“Who finally went first?”
“Neither.” He gritted his teeth against the anger that wanted to burst in him. “Richard is a great warrior. He is impulsive, however. And he does not think ahead the way a king must. So there he was, getting angry, and also impatient to march on to Jerusalem. He decided to break the treaty for good. Only now, he had almost three thousand prisoners.”
“Did he free them and get nothing in return?”
“No.” He gazed up at the sky, the stars bright now and the moon low. He did not speak of this. Other men did, but not him.
She was not to be denied the end of the story. “What did he do?”
“He killed them. Or, we did. On a nearby hill called Ayyadieh. He had them all brought there and put to the sword.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath. He waited for her to pull away, out of his arms.
Instead, she caressed his face. “Your king commanded it. You had no choice.”
“Do not make excuses, Elinor. I don’t.” He sighed so deeply that he felt his soul left him on his breath. “The enemy’s army was below the hill, shouting curses at us. I was on the line holding them off when they tried to attack. Then I looked back and saw—It was not only enemy warriors dying. There were women and children.”
She buried her face in his shoulder and clutched him hard. “What did you do?”
He remembered that moment, when he faced the carnage. In that instant nothing he believed held true anymore. There were some who had enjoyed the killing, but others who were repulsed by their own actions on that hill. He’d even seen two knights approach Richard to argue against the deed, only to be rebuffed.
“I could not stay there. I had not gone with the king to kill unarmed men and women and children. The way back into the city was blocked. So I walked down that hill. I assumed I would be killed.” He almost said he had counted on it. Nor would it have mattered. He was already dead inside, or at least all that was good had seemed gone.
“Yet you weren’t killed.”
“As I was leaving my position, a woman broke through our line, trying to escape. She was right near me when she was caught. Two men began to drag her back. She had two children with her. She looked at me with such fear—” A weak word, fear. It did not describe what he saw in her eyes. “I pushed the men away, grabbed her arm, and threw one child on my back. Then I started down. I sheathed my sword. It would do me no good. When I approached the enemy, I released the woman and she and her children ran to the army.” Sometimes he relived that slow minute while he paced forward.
“Did they spare you because of that woman?”
“I assume so. They let me pass. I kept walking until I reached the port. I did not march to Jerusalem with Richard. I did not want to look at the man again, let alone serve him with my sword.”
