"Leila!
She half turned at Guy's hoarse cry, her breathstopping in her throat at what she knew was to be her last glimpse of him.
"God in heaven, it's the ransom, isn't it?"he shouted, his blue eyes a tempest of fury and disbelief. Thin rivulets ofblood trailed down his heaving chest from the razor-sharp swords holding him atbay. "It's in your face. I can see it in your face! Edward has left forEngland, hasn't he?"
Leila's head snapped back around as her father seizedher arm and yanked her toward the door.
"Do not answer him!"Sinjarcommanded as he propelled her from the cell.
The captain of the guards hurried after them, followedat once by the guards, who backed out with their swords lowered dangerously.The door was slammed shut and bolted just as the crusader hit it with the fullforce of his body, pounding with his fists. Banded with wide strips of iron,the thick wooden door hardly budged.
"Leila, answer me!" he roared. "Leila?Leila!" Thencamethe sound of splintering woodas the cots were violently hurled against the cell walls.
"Come, my daughter,"Sinjarsaid, noting the unshed tears swimming in Leila's eyes. "It is a harshthing to hear when a prisoner realizes his life has become forfeit."
Leila's hands were shaking so much she could not lifther face veil. She was stunned by the depth of her emotion, and couldn'tunderstand why she felt like weeping. Guy deWarenne'sunfortunate fate was certainly none of her doing.
She jumped as a loud crash came from the cell. Thecrusader was beating wildly upon the door with what was left of his bed.
"By God, Leila, at least tell me what's going on!Leila! "
"So I'm to treat this raving lunatic like aprince," she heard the captain mutter sarcastically. "We'll be luckyif we can push some food through the peephole without being spit upon by thatraging beast."
"He is a human being," she said almost toherself, tears running slowly down her cheeks. "Not an animal."
"Come, Leila,"Sinjarinsisted. "Our work here is finished."
Leila walked shakily with her father from the cavernousroom, the crusader's desperate cries ringing in her ears.
Chapter 5
Seated on the hard slab floor, Guy shoved the tarnishedbrass tray of food with his foot. He had no appetite. He took another draftfrom the half-empty wine bottle, but the tangy red liquid was no balm for hisburgeoning frustration. He leaned his head against the wall and closed hiseyes.
If what Al-Aziz, and since then the highly amusedguards, had said was true, then Edward and his fleet of ships were well acrossthe Mediterranean Sea by now, returning home to England.
Without him.
In the long, mind-numbing hours since his outburst ofrage, the guards had cracked the peephole to keep a cautious eye on him andthen had left it open. Guy had never heard such animated conversation fromthem, and he understood just enough Arabic to make sense of what they weresaying. The guards had talked of nothing else, repeating themselves so often heknew exactly what was to happen to him.
Shortly after sunrise, he was to be taken from the celland executed before GovernorMawdudand his highofficials in the prison courtyard. If he was lucky, the invincible SultanBaybars, who was apparently in Damascus, might also bepresent to watch him die. What a bloody spectacle it would be.
He had heard enough gruesome stories about his father'sexperiences while crusading in Egypt to know that decapitation was the Arab'spreferred method of execution. He imagined he could already feel the hardpaving stones as he was forced to his knees. Blindfolded, his hands tied sotightly behind his back that they were numb, he could hear the executioner'ssharp intake of breath as the curved scimitar was swung back, then the clean,whistling sound of steel cutting through the air
Cursing vehemently, Guy lifted his arm and was about todash the empty wine bottle against the opposite wall when the door suddenlycreaked open and two guards entered the cell. Although both men held theirswords at the ready, one also carried a lantern and the other a long, bakedclaywaterpipe.
What the hell was the guard doing with a hookah? He hadseen such devices in Acre's brothels, though he had never tried one. He hadlustily sampled the women, but smoking opium was one vice he had chosen to dowithout, despite the glowing praise bestowed upon the seductive practice byother crusaders.
"For me?" Guy queried sarcastically, derivingsome pleasure from the guards' inability to understand him. "First foodand wine—good wine at that—and now another gift. Is your great and mightyGovernorMawdudtrying to ease his blastedconscience?"
The nearest guard merely grunted in response and thrustthewaterpipein his face.
Guy's first impulse was to knock the pipe aside, but awild and desperate idea suddenly struck him. He took the pipe and dangled it betweenhis raised knees, gesturing to the empty silver bowl set atop the airtightvessel which was partially filled with water. "Bastards. I can't smoke itif it's empty."
The same guard tossed him a square, lacquered box. Guyopened it, revealing a substance that looked like black putty and smelled ofambergris and musk. The other guard placed the lantern and some thin, woodensticks on the floor beside him and then quickly backed away. When Guy eagerlybegan to pack the bowl with opium, the guards laughed scornfully and left thecell.
Guy's hand shook as he lit thewaterpipewith a flaming stick. He was overwhelmed by the daring escape plan taking shapein his mind. Maybe . . . just maybe it would work.
As he put the glazed mouthpiece between his lips and drewon the long smoking tube, the soft whoosh of bubbling water filled the cell. Hewaited the barest moment until he tasted the pungent smoke, then he quicklyremoved the mouthpiece and quietly exhaled what little he had taken into hismouth. The smoke continued to curl from the tube and drift harmlessly into theair. From where Guy sat against the wall, he knew the guards could not see thathe wasn't inhaling.
