"Yes, Father," she answered, embarrassed thatshe had to be reminded again of her duties.
She searched through the leather bags until she foundthe rolled linen, along with several vials containing the powdered medicinesshe judged her father would wish to administer to their valuable patient. Sheset everything on the edge of the cot, venturing at last to voice her naggingquestions.
"Tell me, Father. Where did the soldiers capturethis crusader?"
"The Lebanese border, in the foothills north ofMountHermon,"Sinjarreplied, using a wine-soaked cloth to cleanse away the filth, blood, and sweataround the wound. "There were four other crusader knights in his party, adozen men-at-arms, and several native Christians for guides, but the otherswere all killed in the surprise attack. This man survived only because heescaped into the hills, hiding there for many days until he was captured thisafternoon. GovernorMawdudordered that he be takenalive and held for ransom."
"But the soldiers gravely injured him," Leilasaid, helping her father wrap a thick bandage across the crusader's broadshoulder, underneath his arm, and up again until the wound was securely bound. "'Tisa strange way to spare a life."
"Yes, he most likely would have died but for thatpadded vest he wore and his chain mail, which lessened the blow."
"Chain mail?" Leila followed her father'sgaze to the mysterious pile of iron rings lying upon the floor. At last she wasable to guess their use.
"The crusader's armor,"Sinjarexplained, confirming her suspicion. "It covered him from head to foot,protecting him from worse injury. This man fought like an enraged lion whenthey finally found him, slaying three soldiers before they could bring him downwith that blow to his shoulder."
Leila felt a surge of baffling excitement as sheimagined the violent and bloody scene. "But why he is so valuable, Father?Is he a rich man? An important one?"
"So manyquestions, mydaughter,"Sinjarsaid, studying her.
Leila's cheeks burned at his perusal, a rare sensation,but she met his gaze steadily. "If we are to cure this crusader forransoming, a most unusual case as you said yourself, Father,thensurely I might know why the governor values him so."
Sinjarchuckled to himself. "Youwere always an inquisitive one. A very good thing in our profession." Hepicked up one of the opaque vials she had set upon the cot, opened it, andsniffed lightly to discern the contents. "Letters from the MongolIlkhan,Abaga, addressed to LordEdward of England, were found on several of the dead men."
Leila gasped. "To Lord Edward, the English princewho arrived last year at the Christian port of Acre with his thousandcrusaders?"
"Yes,"Sinjarreplied. "No doubt Lord Edward awaits those letters from Anatolia mostimpatiently." His tone grew harsh. "Fool. He does not know he waitsin vain."
"Then this man must be one of his most trustedknights to undertake such a long and dangerous mission," Leila speculated."Perhaps he is even a friend whose safe return would be much rewarded."
Sinjarnodded. "GovernorMawdudbelieves this crusader and his companions werepersonal envoys sent by Lord Edward to the Mongol dogs, who are obviously stillseeking to join forces against our indomitable SultanBaybars.It seems they have not learned from the hard lessons of the past that onecannot defeat what one cannot count. We are as innumerable as grains of desertsand, as strong as the wind that shapes the dunes and causes great storms toblock out the sun. Even united against us, their efforts are futile." Hisvoice dripped with disdain. "It is a pity the other knights were slainbefore the letters were found. GovernorMawdudwouldhave had four times the ransom from this reckless English prince."
Leila fell silent, pondering her father's words.
Truly, the Christian crusaders were an incomprehensiblelot. Fools and madmen, all of them. No wonder her mother had wasted few wordson the life she had known in England. Any country which bred such men must be avery strange place indeed and hardly worth remembering—
The soldiers' sudden noisy entrance startled her. Herthoughts flew back to the crisis at hand as the men set brimming buckets nextto the cot. Some of the water sloshed onto the floor and soaked her open-toedsandals, yet she gave little notice as the cell bustled with activity.
Following her father's lead and taking care to avoidthe fresh bandage, Leila took a wet sponge and began washing the crusader toremove all sweat and grime and to cool his feverish body. She could feel thehardness of his muscles through the sponge, and an unsettling sensation of heatbuilt inside her with each slow stroke upon his flesh.
Leila hoped her father didn't notice that her hand wastrembling. She forced herself to think rationally as they discussed other scarsthe crusader possessed: a deep,gougelikeimpressionon his right thigh; an ugly eight-inch mark over his ribs, long ago healed;numerous nicks and scratches. Clearly he was a battle-seasoned warrior who hadalready survived several serious injuries.
They bathed him from head to foot. Leila's flusheddiscomfort increased when they removed his short trousers, baring his powerfulbody completely. Shocked by her feelings, she quickly reminded herself that shewas a physician's apprentice and accustomed to such sights as a flaccid maleorgan, no matter how large.
She wasn't used to the crusader's profuse body hair, however;in Arab society such hair was considered offensive, and both men and women wereritually shaved of body hair at their baths. Her mother had adopted the customatSinjar'srequest, and Leila had never knownanything different. She was as smooth as pearly satin down to her toes, and sheliked it that way.
This crusader, on the other hand, was a testimony tohis barbaric culture. His limbs were covered with soft downy hair, his chestthickly matted, and the dark brown thatch between his thighs was positively indecent.
It was also utterly fascinating, Leila thought withchagrin, surprised atherself. Despite her unseemlyurge to watch, she modestly averted her eyes while her father cleaned thatparticular area.
Lastly, with the soldiers' help, they lifted the crusaderfrom the soiled cot onto two larger ones placed side by side and made up withclean bedding and soft pillows for his head. AtSinjar'scommand, the hinged door covering the cell's only window was unlocked andopened to reveal thick, impenetrable iron bars. Still, it did not take long forthe balmy night breeze to freshen the small room. A small square of incense wasdropped into the brazier to further sweeten the air.
Leila inhaled the aromatic frankincense while she mixedpowdered medications in a pestle under her father's watchful eye: equal partsof crushedplaintainseed, tamarind, and starthistle. She knew well that when combined, these ingredients would do much toarrest the crusader's fever. She carefully stiffed in small amounts of wateruntil the mixture formed a thin paste, then she poured her father's suggesteddosage into a cup of cool drinking water and added a spoonful of almond oil andhoney to mask the bitter taste.
"I will hold his head, Leila. Administer only athird of adrachm,"Sinjarcautioned her as she knelt by the cot.
Leila's breath caught as she grasped the crusader'schin and lifted the cup to his mouth.
His skin was very warm and pliant beneath prickly darkwhiskers which chafed her fingers, and she could sense from the hard line ofhis jaw that he was most likely a very stubborn man. As she gave him the properdose, some of the liquid dribbled from his mouth but most he involuntarilyswallowed. She wiped the corners with her head scarf, her fingers brushing hislips, and shivered at their unexpected softness.
