***
"Order more ale," Guy said gruffly, his gazesweeping the packed dining hall as he sat down on the bench next toBurnell. The crowd had grown more rowdy since he had leftwith Leila, which suited his black mood just fine.
"The lady has retired?" Henry asked, hisfreckled face composed into a suitable mask of discretion as he signaled to aplump bar wench.
Guy shot him a dark glance. "Yes. I'll be sharingyour room tonight.
"Ah."
"Ah, what?" Guy shouted,his angry roar lost to the boisterous din. "If that implies you wereright, Langton, it seems indeed that is the case. For now."
"Exactly, my lord. For now. Things can alwayschange." Henry's lips twitched with a smile as three brimming tankardswere slammed upon the table. "I suggest we make a toast—"
"Aye, a toast," Robert agreed, casting hisfellow knight a telling look as if to say,And hurry,dammit.
"Only if it's not to chivalry," Guy muttered."I've always supported the Magna Charta, but that clause about forbiddingforced marriages should be forever stricken from the rolls. I fear I was borntoo late."
"Nonsense, my lord. If so, you wouldn't have metthe beauteous Lady Leila. So a toast! To the women who will not be swayed . . .and to the swaying of them!"
Guy drained his tankard, his foul mood a shade lighteras he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Henry's jests were ablyserving their purpose, something his eloquent knight had been wont to do sincehe had pledged himself to Guy many years ago. But all levity aside, he was nowfaced with a most serious problem.
Leila would soon be in a buzzing hornet's nest, and hewould likely have to go to battle to get her safely out of it.
Roger was a foe he knew well. The bastard would lockher in a nunnery before he would allow her to return to Damascus. But a nun'sdrab habit would certainly not be the garb Roger envisioned for his sister.More likely her glorious hair would be her only gown as Roger forced her intosome rich man's conjugal bed.
Guy clenched his teeth at the unsettling thought.
Roger would never get that far, he hoped. As soon asLeila realized that everything he had said about her brother was true, shewould call for him. She would have nowhere else to turn. And when she did, hewould be ready.
Chapter 17
"God's bones, deWarenne!I'm glad you're alive and back in England."
"As am I, my lord," Guy said, sitting off toone side while a quartet of tailors hovered around the tall, athletic prince.
Edward was standing very straight in the middle of theroom with his arms outstretched, looking extremely uncomfortable as the fourcraftsmen tucked and hemmed the red silk damask tunic and crimson mantle hewould wear in tomorrow morning's coronation ceremony. Guy knew Edward enjoyedthe pageantry and color of royalty, but the tailors had been busily at work forthe whole hour they had been talking. It was enough for any man to bear, letalone a monarch.
"And such an incredible tale," Edwardcontinued, doing his best to ignore the low whisperings and mutterings near tothe floor. "It grieves me deeply about Reginald and the others. Good men,all of them. I'm grateful for your part in the embassy, Guy, though I wish ithad proved more worthwhile, especially considering that men died in its cause.Who could have known when I sent you to Anatolia that I would not be in Acre togreet you upon your return?"
"It was not a waste, my lord, despite theunfortunate loss of life. Our close relationship with the MongolIlkhanwill hold us in good stead should we return to theHoly Land for another crusade."
"True, though God can only know when that might be.I have much toconcern me now in Britain." As the tailors seemed to pause in their work,Edward dropped his arms with a sigh of impatience. "Are you finished,gentlemen?"
"Not quite, my lord," one of the tailorsspoke up, a balding man who looked extremely harried. He bowed apologetically. "Anotherfew moments."
"That is all I shall grant you, so make haste."Edward glanced over at Guy with a wry smile. "Hand me my wine, goodknight. My throat grows parched from this tedious ordeal."
Guy laughed as he rose from the chair and broughtEdward a goblet from a nearby table, but he grew serious when the princelowered the vessel after drinking deeply. "I am honored to be a knight inyour service, Edward," he said, clasping his longtime friend's arm. "Tomorrowwill be a glorious day for England. A new reign. A new era."
"Yes, and I equally need men like you, Guy. Men Ican trust. I'm glad the governor of Damascus, hisMamelukesoldiers, and his wretched prison combined proved no match for you. What a daythat must have been when you escaped!"
Guy leaned against the table and crossed his arms overhis chest. "I won't soon forget it. When I heard that the governor'smessenger had been killed—"
"Now that puzzles me," Edward interrupted,frowning. "Do you really think thieves could have set upon the man? Idoubt it. I don't believe any Arabs would have touched him, knowing he was aroyal messenger. Native Christians, maybe. But I think it more likely thatthere was treachery involved. Perhaps someone didn't want me to receive yourletter of ransom. Every man has enemies, Guy, known or unknown. And there werealways crusaders patrolling the hills around Acre, both singly and in groups.It's a possibility . . ."
"Yes," Guy agreed, "but one that cannever be proven."
"Perhaps. I suggest you watch your enemies wellthese next few days. Much can be betrayed by a simple glance, a misspoken word,a whisper."
