"The fair of St.Ayoul,my lord. Move on if you're entering the city or else pull your mount aside soothers may pass."
"Damn," Guy muttered, veering the gelding tothe side of the road.
"What is it?" Leila asked, not understandingtheir exchange in French.
"A trade fair. If I had known, we would havebypassedProvinsaltogether. From the looks of thiscrowd, every inn will be packed with merchants and buyers. We'll have to rideon to Paris—"
"No!" Leila objected hotly, twisting to facehim. "I won't go any farther, I tell you! I'm hungry and tired and my—my .. ." She faltered, embarrassed,thendecided heshould know exactly how she felt. "My backside is fairly blistered fromthis wretched saddle. I'm sure if you flash one of my mother's jewels at aninnkeeper, he'll jump at the chance to provide lodging for us."
Guy smiled roguishly at her, but his eyes held concern."Ah, then, my lady, that is entirely a different matter. We cannot haveyour lovely bottom so raw you won't be able to sit down at Edward's coronationfeast." Before she could muster a tart reply, he clucked his tongue and pulledsharply on the reins. "TheProvinsfair it is."
Surprised he had agreed so easily, Leila nervouslyaverted her eyes from the deep moat as their horse clomped across the woodendrawbridge. They passed beneath the lofty gate flanked by round watchtowers,her hood sliding from her braided hair as she gazed upward in wonder. Soldierson the other side directed them onto a main thoroughfare which opened intonarrow side streets where riders and pedestrians were squeezing past eachother.
She was amazed at how the city was alive with motion,noise, and color despite the persistent drizzle and growing darkness. Smokingtorches burned brightly from iron brackets projecting from outer walls, whilelamps and lanterns hung from hooks beside painted doors, all lendingmuch-needed light to the bustling scene. People were everywhere, and she hadnever heard such a raucous clamor, even in the slave markets of Cairo.
Behind the display counters of shops opened to the mainstreet and those of rudely constructed stalls running down the middle,merchants wearing fur-trimmed coats haggled with customers in brightly coloredtunics, hose, and long, pointed shoes. Ladies laughed and talked excitedly withtheir escorts while holding up their cloaks and gowns to step over horse dungand garbage.
Peasants ringed jugglers and acrobats, stomping theirfeet and hooting with delight at the entertainers' wild antics while, nearby,whores wheedled and cajoled passersby. Dogs were howling and cats mewling fromdoorways, horses neighing, children shrieking. Leila started in surprise when aflock of honking geese fluttered across the road in front of them, chased by abarking mongrel.
"Easy, my lady, we'll find a place soon and escapefrom this racket," Guy said in her ear, but his words and his warm breathtickling her earlobe only increased her tension.
Guy seemed to take immense pleasure in sharing a saddlewith her and he had explained in great detail the sights they had passed ontheir journey from Lyons—the better to acquaint her with a culture and customsthat were similar to England's, he had said. In truth she had found hisnarrative fascinating and had slightly altered her view of the country as anuncivilized place. But it made her uneasy to be so close to him for so manyhours of the day. Uneasy because she found a heady comfort in his arms and asecret delight at the warmth of his chest and hard, muscled thighs pressedagainst her body.
Leila shivered, but not from cold, and forced herselfto concentrate on what was going on around her. Thankfully it was easy tobecome engrossed in the enormous variety of goods for sale, and their horse wasmoving slowly enough because of the crush of people that she could get a goodlook at everything.
They passed a line of shops where bolts of cloth—wool,silk, cotton, and linen in myriad hues—were heaped on the counters. Other shopsoffered furs, garments already made to wear, and leather products, whilefurther along came stalls displaying imported luxury goods; plush carpets andivory carvings, precious jewels, chess sets carved in ebony, and the glitteringwork of silversmiths and goldsmiths.
When Leila caught the aroma of ambergris and camphor,she was seized by nostalgia and an incredible longing for home, and Guy's armaround her waist filled her with despair. But she quickly shrugged off suchfeelings knowing they were useless. She needed to be strong and ever vigilantfor opportunities for escape. So far she had been presented with none, but shehadn't given up hope.
They came upon shops selling fresh meat, and sheglanced away from the bloody carcasses and plucked chickens hanging from ironhooks, finding counters on her right laden with cheese, bread, and wine and,next to them,cookshopsselling hot food. Her stomachseemed to flip-flop at the savory odors, reminding her just how hungry she was.Their last meal had been hours ago. Yet they rode on, passing stalls offeringitems that must be weighed, salt and sugar, wax, dyestuffs, grain, medicinalherbs, and spices.
Leila perused the open baskets, easily recognizing thespices and most of the herbs, both fresh and dried. Yet some were wholly new toher; the yellow-flowered herb in the basket next to the dried red poppies was aplant she had never seen before—
Her gaze flew back to the poppies just as Guy pulled uphard on the reinsbesidea four-story building with acolorfully painted signboard hanging over the door. She snapped her headaround, startled.
"I'm going to check in this tavern to see if theyhave any available lodging upstairs," he said, dismounting. To hersurprise, he left her in the saddle, although his eyes held a grim warning. "Don'ttry anything, Leila. I'll be right inside the door. Am I understood?"
She bobbed her head, murmuring a composed affirmativedespite her racing pulse, but Guy didn't seem convinced. He glanced over hisshoulder at a strapping peasant loitering outside the tavern door. A quickconversation ensued and she saw the flash of a coin, then the young man strodeup and Guy handed him the reins.
Her heart sank. She would never be able to ride offwith this beefy peasant holding the reins. But she had an even better idea. Herbudding plan was farfetched and she knew she would be playing with fire, but itmight work . . .
"I'll be back in a moment," Guy said with aninfuriating wink. "Sit tight."
Her indignant gaze followed him into the tavern,thensettled on her smiling hired companion.
"You grin like an idiot," she said to him inArabic. Her remark was greeted with a confused stare. "I would wager youhave the brains of one, too." When the young man merely chuckled,shrugging, she added in English, "Don't mindme,I just have to stretch my legs."
With that she slid from the saddle and gestured to thespice and herb stall, which was besieged by customers, then back to the saddle.He shrugged again, and she surmised he understood his job to be to watch thehorse, not her.
"Blessed simpleton," she muttered, hurryingtoward the busy stall. She had to be back on that horse before Guy emerged fromthe tavern, or he would surely guess her purpose. He was certainly no fool.
She pressed in beside three foreign merchants who werequarreling with the spice trader and fortunately occupying his attention. Hereyes fixed on the basket of poppies directly to her left. With the quickest ofmovements she scooped up two handfuls of dried flowers and thrust them throughthe side slits of hersurcoat, not allowing herselfto breathe until she had strolled casually back to the horse. It was clear fromthe continuing argument going on behind her that her crime had not beennoticed.
"Could you help me up?" she asked, giftingthe peasant with a smile that sent a crimson blush from his collar to hisscalp. He did so and she was well settled, the poppies tucked securely into hergirdle, by the time Guy stepped out into the street.
"Thetavernerhas kindlycleared out a room for us," he said, reaching up to draw her from thesaddle. "You were right about the jewels." His gaze moved from thepeasant, who looked sheepish, to Leila. "Is anything amiss? This youngfellow hasn't taken any liberties with—"
"No, no, of course not," Leila cut him offirritably, shaking out her skirts as if it was the first time she had been downfrom the horse in hours. "He's been the perfect gentleman while you haverudely kept me waiting in this rain."
