Roselynde (47 page)

Richard's eyes wandered around the room, then when he saw he and
Simon were alone they lifted to Simon's. "You sent them away?"

"I did not wish you to grieve for killing your servants, my
lord."

The King's eyes closed and his lips trembled. "God help
me," he whispered, "God help me." Tears slipped down his cheeks.

Simon wrung out a cloth and wiped Richard's face. The King's hand
came up and gripped Simon's. He returned the pressure reassuringly.

"How much did they hear?" Richard asked.

"Nothing," Simon replied.

Richard's eyes opened and he studied Simon's face. Then a tired
half smile curved his lips. "You do not really like whores, do you, Simon?
I thought I did not remember you had much recourse to them even when you were a
young man, but then I thought perhaps you had hidden it from me."

"They serve my need," Simon said stolidly.

A choked sound, part laugh, part sob, forced itself from the
King's throat. "My need," he gasped, "my need, not yours. You
are a clever devil, Simon, as my mother swore you were.

But you will not need to roister in the stews again. That burden
will be taken from you—I swear it. When we find the women, I will marry
Berengaria on the first day I can. I swear it!"

"Of course," Simon soothed, swallowing convulsively.
"Soon now, very soon we will find them. But we cannot look until you are
well, my lord. Rest now. When you are well, all will come right. You will see.
All will be sweet and easy."

Simon's prediction was not completely accurate, but there was some
improvement in the situation. Although Richard's fever returned in the
afternoon, the attack was less violent and, after that, his mind no longer
wandered and he grew better each day. First he was impatient to leave as soon
as he was sure that none of his ships had made landfall anywhere on the island.
The protests of his physician delayed him a few days. What held Richard for the
remainder of the ten days they spent at Rhodes was the question of what to do
about Cyprus. From every side Richard heard complaints of Isaac Comnenus, the tyrant
who had seized the island by a ruse, governed by force with a group of paid
mercenaries who were as vicious and depraved as their master, and was hated by
all the surrounding rulers because he obstructed the trade routes.

Cyprus in itself was a rich prize. Before the advent of Comnenus
it had been a supply base for the early Crusades and for the Latin kingdoms of
the Holy Land. Isaac, however, found there was more to be made out of
friendship with Saladin, and he had done all he could to interfere with any aid
sent to the besiegers of Acre. What was more, there was good reason to believe
that the twenty-five missing ships had been blown to Cyprus. A few might have
floundered but the fact that none of them had rejoined Richard at Rhodes more
than hinted that they had met a foul reception. That decided

Richard. They would make for Cyprus and check up on the rumors. It
was as useful a goal as any other.

For four days after the storm the ship holding the ladies sailed
quietly, they knew not whither. No one was quite happy to be out of sight of
land for so long, but there was plenty of water and supplies and no immediate
danger. Late in the afternoon of the second day, two ships were sighted to the
south. An anxious conference was held as to whether they would allow the ships
to overtake them or run. There was, of course, a good chance that the ships
were part of Richard's fleet. The ladies wanted to wait both because they would
feel safer if they were not completely alone and because they wished news of their
safety to be carried to the rest of the fleet as quickly as possible.

Beorn, summoned to give his opinion, was not as eager for company
that might, after all, be an enemy. He conceded, however, that the complement
of men-at-arms aboard was large enough to discourage almost any besides a war
galley from attacking. The captain had very similar reservations but, although
he knew his ship was not fast, he also knew she was swifter than she looked. He
did not wish to lose the chance of gaining companions or, at least, news of
where they were. Sail was shortened and all waited, eagerly watching the sails
of the oncoming ships grow larger.

To their delight they found the ships to be part of the strayed
fleet, but unfortunately the newcomers knew no better where they were. Now,
however, they were strong enough to turn away or fight off any pirate or enemy
vessel; they sailed forward cheerfully enough for another three days. On the
next evening the wind began to freshen. Instead of dropping as the sun set, it
grew stronger still. Again they ran, helpless before the wind. This time,
however, after full dark enveloped them, the lookout shouted down from his
perch on the mast that he saw a light.

Painfully aware of his precious cargo, the captain was torn with
doubts. A light seen from that distance could only be a beacon fire set to
signal a safe harbor, but harbors in the precipitous isles of the Mediterranean
were too often surrounded by dangerous rocky arms. Incautious approach might
bring disaster instead of safety. As much as he desired a safe haven from the
storm that seemed to be worsening and some certitude that he would not sail off
the end of the world, the captain ordered that sail be shortened still more. He
shouted warnings as he saw the other ships pulling ahead, but the rush of the
wind and the crack of the sail drowned him out.

Beorn was also uneasy. Of the Mediterranean he knew nothing beyond
the fact that more enemies than friends lived on its shores and islands. He,
too, desired a haven from the rising storm, but not at the cost of having to
fight his way out.

"Let me send a man of mine up to look out, too," he
bellowed into the captain's ear. "Two sets of eyes are better than one.
And give me leave to take the sweep."

Swift agreement was obtained. One of Beorn's fishermen scurried up
to join the sailor while Beorn went to lay his powerful hand to the steering
sweep. The sailor lookout was singing out the direction of the beacon steadily
and they were keeping a true line, but the captain kept glancing unhappily at
the racing whitecaps. In spite of the shortened sail they were driving fast,
very fast.

Suddenly, the lookout's voice stopped. Beorn's knuckles whitened
as he gripped the sweep harder. Then the call came down again, "Dead
ahead. Dead ahead." Beorn let his breath trickle out. The relief had no
time to take hold upon him, luckily. Simultaneously, before he could relax, the
fisherman screamed, "Wreckers! Wreckers!" and the sailor shouted,
"Come about hard! Come about!"

Beorn lay over the steering sweep, bracing his legs against the
ship's side. The trunk-thick shaft kicked so hard that he gasped with pain. The
captain screamed orders, himself leaping to add his strength to Beorn's to hold
the sweep. The ship heeled over. From the prow came shrieks of terror from the
women. In the belly the horses whinnied and the men moaned. Water slapped over
the rowers who plied their oars with a steady desperation. Slowly and painfully
the ship turned aside from the land, righted herself.

"We cannot leave," the captain shouted. "We must
stay and see if we can help."

Beorn did not need further argument. He knew what the fishermen
meant when he screamed, "Wreckers!" The beacon fire had not been set
in a safe harbor but in a place where a ship would drive upon the rocks and
founder. Then the fiends who battened on the corpses of the innocent came out
to loot the wreck and either to murder the few who escaped drowning or, if they
were persons of quality, to take them for ransom. He cursed luridly in both
Saxon and French and put the sweep over a trifle again. This night with the
wind as it was they could do nothing. They could only make a wide circle and
come in again at daylight.

Later that night violent rain squalls struck, but after that the
wind died. The sun rose into a clear sky the next morning and a light breeze
blew in toward an excellent harbor where a number of ships rocked peacefully at
anchor. Their ship lay well out, however, with furled sail and the men stroking
the oars just enough to keep the nose of the vessel steady. Again the captain,
Beorn, Joanna, Berengaria, and Alinor consulted on their next move.

"You are sure that the fire was set wrong deliberately?"
Joanna asked.

"We saw the wrecks this dawn, Madam. They are some leagues
distant from this or any other harbor, but not so distant that whoever rules in
this place could be ignorant of what his people are doing."

Alinor nodded. "My lands are on the coast, Lady Joanna. I
have a regular watch just to prevent such happenings." Then she looked at
Beorn. "Of course, sometimes a robber band runs in and causes a
wreck—"

Beorn was already shaking his head, his eyes hot with rage.
"No, my lady. It is a regular practice. I saw the bones of other
wrecks."

An exclamation of pity broke from Berengaria's lips and tears rose
to her eyes. Joanna's face suddenly took on a vivid look of the old Queen as
her eyes grew hard and the lines of her lips tightened. Alinor's small jaw
jutted forward.

"What of survivors?" was Joanna's next question.

The captain shrugged. "The ships were well in. Certainly not
all died by drowning, but whether they were killed ashore, I do not know. We
put out a boat, but they discovered nothing. Truly, Madam, I am not really sure
where we are. It is an island and a large island, but there are many such in
this sea."

"Then we must first discover whether any of our people are
alive and, if so, what can be done for them. Is there any use in returning to
the wrecks and sending a stronger party ashore?"

"I do not believe so, Madam. If our people are there, they
would be kept in caves and strongly guarded. We could search for weeks without
finding where they were hidden," Beorn replied. "I do not believe
they are there. Most likely they are taken away to a more secure place."

Joanna now looked at Alinor. These were her men and she knew their
capability best.

"You are strong enough to keep us from being boarded and
taken by force?" The tone of the remark Alinor addressed to her
master-at-arms was more order than question.

"My lady," he protested, "it depends upon how many
are sent against us. We are well armed and well supplied, yes."

"They will not dare damage the ship when they know you are
aboard," Alinor said to Joanna and Berengaria. "Let us sail into the
harbor. At least we will discover where we are. Possibly we can get news of our
people, too. Out here we can do nothing."

"We are safe out here," the captain warned.

Alinor's jaw jutted again. "There are prices too high to pay
for safety. We cannot desert any of our own people. If even one man lives, we must
be ready to give him aid, and we cannot help from here. Beorn, bid your men don
their armor and lay their arms ready." She looked at Joanna who nodded
curtly.

"Wherefore is all this readiness?" Berengaria asked.
"We need not fear being taken. Richard would unseat the very island and
toss it into the sea to have us back."

Alinor stared at her in blank amazement. Then she said to Beorn
grimly, "To the death. We must not be taken!"

"Bid your rowers ready their oars," Joanna instructed
the captain, almost in the same breath with Alinor. "We must not be
taken." She turned to Berengaria who was looking a trifle affronted at
this cavalier dismissal of her advice. "My love, what could Richard do if
you were in their hands? To ensure your safety, he would promise anything and,
whatever his rage, he would be constrained to keep his oath."

At first when they sailed into the harbor, Berengaria seemed the
most sensible. The armed might certainly appeared to be out of order. A small
boat put out and offered them a very warm welcome. Had their suspicions not
already been aroused, probably they would have fallen into the trap and come
ashore. Even when they refused, however, no force was threatened. Their
questions were eagerly answered. They learned, thus, that they were in Limassol
harbor on the island of Cyprus, ruled by the good and gracious Isaac Comnenus.
Yes, indeed, other of their people were ashore. There were two galleys warped
in at the dock, which they could see if they would sail in nearer. There had
been two wrecks? How dreadful! Inquiries would be set about to discover the
survivors and render them all the aid possible.

The ladies were afraid to ask more specific questions or apply
more pressure, so the emissary was dismissed. The remainder of the day and evening
were spent in trying to think of a method of contacting their men who were
ashore. Unfortunately the population of the island was Greek and even those who
spoke French or Italian had a most distinctive accent. None of the men-at-arms
or sailors could pass as a native and there was no way for them to discover
whether any French or Italian ships were in port. In fact, the captain said he
doubted it. The lines of the vessels he could see were all suspiciously like
Saracen ships.

The next day brought the little boat again with somewhat more
urgent requests that they come ashore and with gifts of fresh fruit and fresh
meat from their eager, hopeful host. Joanna countered with questions as to the
names of their people who were ashore. The emissary nearly wept with chagrin
because he had not thought to inquire. Besides the names were so strange to his
awkward tongue, he was sure the lady would never recognize them if he learned
and repeated them. Would not the august ladies come ashore and he would send
the strangers to see them? Surely they were tired of being pent up so long on
this small uncomfortable ship. Surely they would be glad of soft, steady beds.