No Price Too High (12 page)

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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

BOOK: No Price Too High
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“Here I have none,” she said quietly. She did not want to talk about Falla, especially after having heard Karim Pasa speak of her to Gabriel last night. Had Gabriel sent for Falla after she had fled? Her clasped fingers tightened until her knuckles bleached. She should not care … but she did. To silence her own wayward thoughts, she said, “I'm simply a prisoner.”

Kalinin patted her hand. “Falla is the only one who worries about rank here. Lysias, as the
shaykh
's mother, possesses the highest rank, but she seldom boasts of it among us.”

“And his wives?”

“The
shaykh
?” Her laugh was crystal singing. “He has no wives, although he must choose one if he wants a son to hold this land after him.” Suddenly she straightened.

Melisande rose to greet Lysias. Allowing Lysias to sit in the chair, she pulled up more cushions beside Kalinin.

“Did you sleep well, Melisande?” Lysias asked.

“No.”

“But you retired here early.”

Melisande sighed. In Heathwyre, there had been some sense of privacy. Here, there was none. She wondered if everyone in the
harim
knew what time she had entered Gabriel's rooms and when she had left.

“Soon you shall find we are not jackals about to pounce upon you in the darkness,” Lysias reassured her. “Then you will not be visited by fear throughout the night.”

“It was not fear.”

“Regret?”

She shook her head. “If you mean do I regret sleeping alone last night, the answer is no.” That was another lie. She would need hours to confess when she returned to the chapel at Heathwyre. Not even her vow as a Crusader could free her of this mountain of lies. “I told Gabriel—”

“Gabriel?” asked Lysias in a tight voice. “You address him so?”

She looked from the old woman to Kalinin, who was staring at her with the same expression of disbelief. “He asked me to call him Gabriel. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No.” Lysias exchanged a glance with Kalinin, but Melisande could not guess what it was supposed to mean. “If that is the
shaykh's
wish, then that is how it should be.”

Melisande dampened her suddenly arid lips. No one else called Gabriel anything but by his title. Even his mother spoke of him that way. Why had he insisted she call him Gabriel?

She was about to ask when a slender form pushed through the curtains. Falla shook back her loose robes as she entered the room, slithering across it like a dragon seeking its lair.

“Good morning, Melisande of Heathwyre,” she said in a condescending tone. “I trust
you
slept well last night.” She yawned broadly.

“Well enough.” She clasped her hands in her lap, trying not to hear the echo of Karim Pasa's voice speaking this woman's name and seeing Gabriel's nod.

Her lips tightened. “The
shaykh
allows his chosen one to get little time for slumber through the night.”

“Then don't let us keep you.” Melisande shocked herself with her retort. No, she did not want to be jealous of Falla being in Gabriel's arms. She tried to keep tears from filling her eyes. Oh, dear God, she did not want to care what he did, but she did. She wanted to keep each of his devastating kisses for herself.

Falla's dark eyes slitted, adding to her feral expression. “You are not delaying me. I thought you might have something to eat here. I seek something to restore me.”

“I have heard love invigorates the body as well as the soul.”

“Heard?” She laughed. “Is that the tradition of the
Franj
? To listen to the rumors instead of knowing what it is like to have a man seek his gratification deep within you?”

Lysias pushed herself to her feet. “Be silent, Falla. No one here cares to listen to you.”

“You would rather hear how the
shaykh
sent her away?”

“Of course, he sent me away,” answered Melisande, proud of her even voice. She put her hand on Kalinin's arm. She hoped Kalinin would remain quiet so Falla would not include her in her jealous rage. “I am not a concubine. I am a prisoner who will live here until my father ransoms me.”

“It would not matter if you were a prisoner or not,” Falla snarled. “If the
shaykh
wanted you, he would take you to his bed.”

“I know,” she replied smoothly. “We discussed that very subject last night, and I made my opinions quite clear.”

Kalinin gasped. “He asked you to be his concubine, then accepted your refusal?”

“Why the
shaykh
does what he does is not our place to question,” Lysias said. Sitting again, she added, “Falla, I think you should seek your breakfast elsewhere.”

“Listen, you old—”

“Falla, I said you should go elsewhere.” Lysias did not raise her voice.

The
ikbal
glowered. Sniffing her outrage, she stamped out of the room.

“Ignore her,” urged Kalinin.

“It shall not be easy.” Melisande sighed. “She does not wish to be ignored. My father once had a mistress who yearned to be his wife, although my mother still lived. She paraded herself about Heathwyre until my father sent her away.”

Lysias nodded. “Which is what the
shaykh
would do with Falla, if he were here more often.”

“He is gone often?”

“I have said enough.”

Melisande suspected that Lysias was now the one lying. She had not said enough. She had said too much. Not that it mattered. Melisande had no idea what she meant. It was just another piece in this puzzle of Gabriel de la Rive that seemed to have no solution.

“He has vanished,
shaykh
. Our one opportunity to halt Abd al Qadir may be gone.”

Gabriel chuckled at the grim expression on Shakir's face. “We will simply have to wait the beast out. He will emerge from his lair, and then we can set the trap once more.”

“Not with the woman this time.”

“We will use whatever tools we must to halt his attacks on the hill villages.” He glanced at the map on the table in front of them. “He has hidden in these mountains before.” He ran his finger along the spine of the range. “Take some men and talk to the villagers there. See what you might be able to learn.”

“Aren't you riding with us?” Surprise raised his gray brows nearly to the top of his skull.

“No, because I do not want our enemy to discover that we are searching for him there.”

“And the woman keeps you here.”

He let the map roll closed with a snap. “No woman rules my decisions, Shakir.”

“But she fascinates you.”

“She doesn't intrigue you?”

Shakir laughed. “My eyes might be old, but they still see clearly. The
Franj
woman is lush with untried charms, for it is well known that their men guard them as closely as we do our women.” His expression grew somber once more. “I will gather the men and do as you order,
shaykh
. We will be gone no more than a fortnight.”

“Good hunting, my friend.”

Shakir nodded, picked up the map, and walked out of the room.

Gabriel caught the sheet of paper that flew off the table as the door closed. He read the few words on it again, although there was no need. He could not forget a single one that had sent dread whirling through his gut. Rumors were no longer rumors.

He went out to the pool in his garden. Sitting by the pool, he watched the fish dodging the falling water. He stood again, not able to remain here. Although the pool had not changed, it was as if each tile had been imprinted with Melisande's warmth. She could not hide that warmth, especially when he touched her.

With a groan, he went back into his rooms. This was not going at all as he had planned.

When a hand touched her shoulder, Melisande awoke with a gasp of terror. She opened her eyes and laughed weakly. “Karim Pasa! You startled me.”

“Excuse me, milady.” He grinned as he squatted next to her. “You looked so peaceful sleeping here. It distresses me to waken you.”

“That is all right.” She glanced past him to discover that darkness had recaptured the garden. She was shocked that she had slept the whole afternoon and evening away. Too many sleepless nights, too many laced with nightmares had left her exhausted.

“Your presence is requested, milady.”

Melisande looked from the
yashmak
on the beaded band that he held out to his blank features. Knowing her own face must betray the excitement soaring through her, she took the wisp of silk and tried to affix it properly. Her fingers trembled as she thought of seeing Gabriel.

“Allow me, milady.” Karim Pasa's broader hands gently secured the band in place. Then he frowned. “No, that will not do.”

“What won't do?”

He snapped his fingers. A serving maid appeared from the dusk beyond the columns, bringing a comb. Taking it, Karim Pasa began to smooth out the snarls in Melisande's hair, which flowed behind her onto the floor.

She guessed he was responsible for being sure that any woman brought to his
shaykh
appeared enticing. Karim Pasa, like everyone in the
harim
, was devoted to seeing that all of Gabriel's needs were met. Her hands clenched beside her. If she succumbed to his kisses tonight, she would betray everything she had vowed. If she refused them, she might face another sleepless night of aching desire as she feared he held Falla instead.

“Come,” Karim Pasa said as he came to his feet.

Standing, she listened to her hair crackle as it clung to her clothes. She followed Karim Pasa, but paused by a table where a tray held what must have been her midday meal. Picking up a small piece of crusty bread, she popped it in her mouth.

“Milady, it is not right for you to enter the
shaykh's
presence with your mouth full,” he admonished.

“Think how much worse it would be if my stomach rumbled with emptiness.” She smiled as he chuckled.

Again the
mabeyin
was empty, save for the wooden bench. She wondered who sat on it. Karim Pasa while he waited to escort the
shaykh's
chosen concubine back to the
harim
? She grimaced.

He led her toward Gabriel's door. Opening it, he said, “Do not leave this room. The
shaykh
will be with you soon.”

“I understand.”

“Milady, heed my words. The
shaykh
would have no choice but to put you to death if you were found wandering about the
selamlik
.”

“Where?”

“In the rest of the palace, milady. The seraglio is for the women. The
selamlik
is the region for men.”

“I understand,” she repeated.

When he left, closing the door, his concern remained behind to hang in the hot evening air. She glanced at the door on the far side of the room which would warrant her death if she as much as opened it.

The room did not seem so overwhelming when Gabriel was not here. She did not look at the massive bed as she walked to the arch leading to the garden. Whirling away, she went in the opposite direction.

She paused when she stared at the door beside the one where she had entered. That was not the one Karim Pasa had warned her about, but Gabriel had been determined she did not open it by mistake last night. Glancing over her shoulder to be certain she was alone, she went to the door.

It opened easily, surprising her because she had thought it would be locked. Again she was forced to see how assured Gabriel was of his power in his stronghold. She peeked in to see a long hallway with many doors. Unlike the walls of the other passages here, no tiles decorated the plain stone.

Curious, she slipped through the door, leaving it ajar so she would not be locked in by mistake. She put her ear to the first door. Hearing nothing, she opened it. Her eyes widened. As light slipped past her, she saw the glint of gold. More gold than she had guessed existed in all the world. This much gold could buy enough weapons and mounts for the army of the Cross.

She frowned. Why would Gabriel, if he had all this gold, insist on her father's paying a ransom for her? Her heart caught in midbeat. Mayhap he had gained his wealth by capturing wayfarers and demanding a high price for their release. She shook her head. This was more gold than even England would pay for a king.

Closing the door, she opened another. It was filled with bolts of cloth and furniture, just as the storerooms were in Heathwyre. She reached for a third. She opened it only far enough to see stacks of sword and mail. Sounds from farther along the hall warned her that someone was approaching. This passage must have another entrance.

She rushed back to Gabriel's rooms and shut the door. Sinking to the floor, she hid her face in her hands. Gabriel could outfit an army of his own. So many weapons were not needed to stop the hill bandits. There could be but one explanation. He was readying to fight the Crusaders.

NINE

Melisande rose and hurried into the next room as she heard footsteps nearing the door Karim Pasa had told her not to open. Her heart ached as she imagined those weapons turned against her fellow Crusaders. She had let Gabriel beguile her again until she had believed his battle was solely with the hill bandits.

Forcing her hands to stop shaking was impossible. She had to appear calm when Gabriel arrived. He must have no reason to suspect she knew the truth.

She turned as she heard the door open. Taking a steadying breath, she was glad she had come into this room. It offered a serenity she needed. The intricate arrangement of the blue tiles on the wall gave a coolness to the wide room.

Hushed footsteps announced she was no longer alone. As Gabriel entered the room, Melisande clasped her hands behind her to hide their trembling.

“Good evening, Melisande,” he said, striding past her as if having her here waiting for him were commonplace.

“Good evening, Gabriel.” She hoped he did not hear the tremor in her voice.

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