Captive Rose (13 page)

"That is insane!" Guy blurted, not believing
her. "You must come with us. I cannot leave you here, thinking you might
be imprisoned or worse—"

"No, I have told you, my lord. My place is here
with my husband. As for my fate, whatever I decide to tell him about this night
. . . we are all in God's hands." A small smile curved her lips. "I
must go now and get the sedative from Leila's medical supplies.
Majida
told me she was still in the baths. Perhaps you
might try resting on one knee for a while instead of hunching over like that. I
will return shortly."

Guy followed Eve's suggestion as she turned and walked
gracefully from the room, her gauze-like garments shimmering in the lamplight.
He leaned his head on the side of the cabinet and closed his eyes, sighing
heavily.

What a strange day this had been, fraught with more
unsettling surprises than he could ever have imagined when he awoke that
morning. And there was every indication that the day would continue its chaotic
course. Soon he would be rumbling across a city swarming with soldiers in some
sort of wagon with a drugged young woman who was none other than the sister of
his worst enemy and the adopted daughter of the most renowned physician in the
Arab Empire!

If he had any guardian angels, he seriously hoped they
were watching.

Chapter 7

Leila glanced up from her book of Persian poetry as
Majida
entered the room and hurried over to the divan where
she was reclining on a half dozen soft pillows.

"Forgive me, O my young mistress," the
odalisque said, her hand pressed over her heart. "It is growing late and I
do not mean to disturb your hour of solitude, but your beloved mother has
requested that I escort you to her apartments."

Surprised, Leila lowered the book to her lap. "I
thought she had gone to Governor
Mawdud's
palace. Is
something wrong? Is Mother ill?"

"No, no, dearest one, she is well, but she has
changed her mind about visiting our lord governor. She merely wishes to speak
with you before she retires for the night."

Leila frowned. Eve changed her mind? That was indeed
odd. Once her mother decided to do something, she rarely swerved from her
purpose. And why was
Majida
looking at her so
intently, as if she were memorizing every line of her face? The odalisque's
gray eyes were misty and red-rimmed as if she might have been crying, and her
hands were trembling slightly. "
Majida
, what is
troubling you?"

The odalisque started at her question and backed away,
bowing. "I am tired, my young mistress, nothing more. Your devoted
Majida
grows older with each passing day, do not forget.
Please, your mother
awaits
."

Leila sighed softly as she flung aside the light
coverlet and rose from the divan. She left her book lying open on a cushion and
marked the page with a flat brass ornament shaped like a tulip, determined that
she would finish reading the lengthy poem when she returned to her room.

"If you will kindly wear this,"
Majida
said, holding up one of Leila's plainer robes made
of dark blue
linen
. "The air has grown cool this
night, and you are hardly dressed to withstand its chill."

Leila glanced down at the clothes she was wearing, a
lavender silk
thob
with a V-shaped collar embroidered
in silver thread, and matching
sirwal
. The iridescent
fabric was so sheer she could see her rose-pink nipples and the pearly whiteness
of her skin through the lightly embroidered bodice.

"Very well,
Majida
, I
will wear the robe," she agreed, bringing her long, beribboned braid over
her shoulder and shrugging into the garment. She tied the proffered sash around
her waist, adding, "Though I am only going across the courtyard."

"And shoes, my dearest Leila."

Leila stared at the odalisque.
Majida
hardly ever called her by her name unless she was frustrated by Leila's
stubbornness, which had happened often as a child. But the odalisque hardly
looked angry now.
Majida
seemed nervous and
distressed, as if she might burst into tears at any moment. For that reason
Leila slipped on the soft leather sandals laid at her feet, whereas otherwise
she might have objected.

"There. Satisfied?" she asked with an
indulgent smile.

Majida
only nodded and left
the room, leading the way as Leila followed quickly after her, growing more
perplexed.

In the courtyard Leila paused briefly and looked up
into the sky, drinking in the jasmine-scented air. How beautiful was the night,
the heavens so black and deep, the stars like many-faceted diamonds, sparkling
and twinkling. She might have stood there longer if
Majida
hadn't tugged impatiently on her sleeve.

"Will you make your mother wait all the more, my
young mistress? Come!"

This time a sharp retort flew to Leila's tongue, but
Majida
disappeared into her mother's apartments before she
could utter it.

Whatever was going on?
she
wondered, walking through the archway. As her eyes adjusted to the dim
lighting, for the lanterns had been turned down to barely a flicker, she saw
Eve standing in the middle of the room by a low table spread with a light
evening repast.
Majida
was at her side.

"What is it, Mother?" she asked as Eve came
to meet her, taking her hand.

"Come and sit with me, Leila," her mother
answered, leading her to the far side of the table and seating her on a plump
floor cushion facing the open archway. Eve knelt on the cushion directly
opposite her and began pouring red wine from a silver flask, offering Leila a
goblet. "Drink with me, my daughter. It has been a long and trying day for
us both."

Leila stared at the goblet blankly, thoroughly
confused,
then
back at her mother, who was lifting her
gold-embroidered veil over her head. Tears had sprung to Eve's eyes, and a few
trickled down her pale cheeks.

"Mother?" Leila began to rise just as she
heard footfalls directly behind her. She turned her head and saw a huge,
dark-robed shape at the same moment that a wet sponge was pressed over her
mouth. "Mother!" she screamed, but her cry was muffled as she inhaled
sickly sweet fumes and swallowed the bitter liquid oozing past her lips. Dear
God, she was being drugged! But by whom? Why?

Her frantic struggles were no match for the steely arms
that held her. Desperately she raked her fingernails across the large hand
holding the sponge and heard a deep male voice curse loudly. The room began to
swim before her eyes, and she knew she was fast losing consciousness. She
stared wild-eyed at the fading figure of her mother, who was holding out her
hands helplessly.

"I have done this for your sake, Leila. Always
remember how much I love you," she heard like a pleading echo in her ears
as the room grew dimmer and dimmer . . . fading into blackness.

"She's out," Guy said, holding Leila's
slumped figure against his chest as he tossed the sponge in the silver bowl
Majida
held out to him. He laid Leila gently on two
cushions he kicked together,
then
glanced at a shaken
Eve while he washed his hands in a larger bowl filled with sudsy water. "Are
you all right, my lady?"

"Yes," she whispered, swallowing back her
tears. Guy dried his hands and handed
Majida
the damp
towel. "You can still reconsider—"

"Never," Eve said, her voice growing
stronger. "Never.
Majida
, remain by the door and
call out if you see anyone coming. Anyone . . .
Suhel
,
Nittia
,
Ayhan
. . . God
forbid
, my husband . . ."

"Yes, my mistress."
Majida
fell on her knees and kissed Leila's forehead, murmuring in Arabic, "Sweet
Leila, dark as night. Do not forget your beloved
Majida
."
With a heartfelt sigh, the loyal odalisque jumped up and hurried to the
archway, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her caftan. "The courtyard is
empty, mistress."

"Come. This way," Eve said
,
gesturing to a brass-covered door inlaid with silver. She ran ahead, pushing it
open to reveal a flight of wooden steps. "My roof terrace."

Guy scooped Leila's limp body into his arms, marveling
that she was so light. He strode to the door and up the stairs with Eve close
behind him. He cautiously stepped onto the corner terrace, gratefully noting
the vine-covered trellises which would hide their furtive activities from
prying eyes.

"Over here," Eve whispered, going to the
rounded roof ledge. "My friend is waiting below in the side alley."

As Guy peered over the ledge at the ground looming some
sixteen feet below them, he was relieved to see a wagon pulled up beside the
wall and a burly man in monkish garb standing on the driver's bench, his arms
outstretched. But what was that god-awful smell?

"Drop her down," Eve directed him. "Thomas
will catch her."

"Thomas?"

"My friend . . . an Englishman and a fellow
Christian. You may trust him with your life." Eve lovingly touched Leila's
cheek one last time, kissed her, then watched dry-eyed and silent while Guy
carefully released her into Thomas's waiting arms.

"What's in the wagon?" Guy asked Eve as
Thomas drew back the canvas and settled Leila on the planked floor next to the
seat, wrapping her in what looked like a heavy, white shroud.

"Corpses."

A chill shot through Guy, the one word explaining the
overpowering stench emanating from the wagon.

He laughed shortly and looked heavenward in disbelief.
Now they had a pile of dead bodies to protect them if the soldiers drew too
close. Perhaps their rotting friends even clutched swords in their rigid
fingers!

"Trust me, my lord, you and Leila will be safe,"
Eve insisted softly, as if reading his mind. "I would not wantonly risk my
daughter's life,
nor
yours. Thomas is a friar from our
church in
Bab
Touma
, the
Christian quarter, and one of only two such men allowed in the city. It is his
job to transport dead Christian slaves in his wagon to the cemetery several
miles outside the city walls."

"But what if we're stopped along the way and the
wagon searched
? "

"I can assure you, Lord de
Warenne
,
no Moslem will
defile
himself by touching such a
cargo. Just remember to keep very still and all will be well."

Guy swallowed hard, looking from the waiting wagon to
Eve. "Then it is farewell, my la—" His words died on his lips at the
sound of angry male shouts carrying across the silent rooftops from the
direction of the governor's prison. "I believe my absence has been
discovered," he said dryly, his expression grim.

"You must go. There is no more time to waste,"
Eve urged, her eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. She pulled a small
velvet bag from her wide sleeve and handed it to him. "Jewels . . .
emeralds, diamonds,
rubies
. They should see you safely
home to England. Guard her well, my lord. I have entrusted my heart's dearest
joy to your care."

"I swear on my life that Leila will come to no
harm," Guy vowed, stuffing the bag in his sash. As he quickly lowered
himself from the roof, Thomas guided his feet so he could jump down on the
wagon bench.

"Lie down beside her, my lord," Thomas
directed him in a hushed voice. "I'll tell you when we get close to
Bab
Charki
so you'll know not to
make a sound."

"What is
Bab
Charki
?" Guy asked, gritting his teeth from the
terrible odor assailing him as he took his place on the hard wagon floor.

"The Gate of the Sun. It's one of the city's main
gates and heavily guarded, but we'll have no problems if you hold your breath
and play dead when we reach it . . . just in case the guards decide to check
beneath the canvas."

"I think I can manage," Guy muttered, jerking
his hand away when he accidentally touched the wrapped, bloated corpse next to
him. "What are the odds that they might check?"

"Hopefully slight. We have some very ripe souls in
this wagon that should keep them away.

Guy had to swallow hard after that comment. As Thomas
tucked a heavy linen shroud tightly around his prone body and then over his
head, he heard Eve fervently whisper above him, "God go with you."

"And with you, brave Lady Eve," he answered,
the world around him growing darker still when the canvas was drawn over them
and pulled taut.

The wagon jerked into motion, the iron-rimmed wheels
clattering loudly when they turned from the dirt alley onto the paved side
street. Guy rocked back and forth, bumping into Leila on one side and the corpse
on his other, all the while breathing through his mouth and not his nose. It
helped . . . a little.

Funny, he thought, beginning to believe he was living
some bizarre and macabre nightmare. He hadn't even asked what was to happen
once they reached the Christian cemetery. Perhaps he and Leila were to walk all
the way to Acre.

After what seemed a very long time, he heard Thomas
hiss to him through the canvas, "We're almost to
Bab
Charki
, my lord. Say a prayer the lady doesn't talk
in her sleep."

Guy tensed as the wagon ground to a halt and harsh male
voices surrounded them on all sides. He lay totally still as the canvas was
thrown back and the men cursed, drawing in sharp, disgusted exhalations of
breath. It was obvious the guards were getting a full whiff of his putrid
companions.