A Memory of Love (33 page)

“I do,” he groaned.
“Oh, my love, I do!”

Then she forced his passion from him, and his love juices filled her as Rhonwyn sighed her own deep pleasure. Once Edward had told her that a shared passion was a better passion, and it was. She wondered how much greater her pleasure would be if she loved this man called Rashid al Ahmet who now lay upon her breasts, gasping with his own exertions. Absently she stroked his dark head, wondering as she did how long it would be before she could escape Cinnebar and return to her husband, Edward de Beaulie. To show him that her fears were gone and that she could love him completely and freely. For that they owed the caliph of Cinnebar a great debt, but she suspected that she could not dwell too greatly upon that fact.

She was eager to learn the plans for her escape, but Baba Haroun said nothing, and some weeks went by before he finally called her into his private chamber. Rhonwyn went, her heart hammering, not knowing if he meant to kill her or give her her freedom. Her beautiful face, however, showed no hint of her fears. “You sent for me?” she said, bowing politely to him.

“The plan is completed,” he replied without any preamble.

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Tonight,” he said low. “Your women will be given a bit of poppy in their mint tea to assure their deep slumber. I will come for you myself, Noor. The shattered bones are ready to place along with the kaftan in which your women see you last. It will be shredded and scattered along with your unique hair. It will be enough to convince all that you have fallen and perished.”

“How will you place all of the debris?” she questioned him.

He smiled enigmatically. “You cannot see it from your terrace, of course, but there is a small door just below it. Such entries are common in this palace. They were placed there as a means of escape when the palace was built. Few know where they are located, not even the caliph, but I do. I will personally place these items on the rocks below before I aid you in your flight, Noor. Now, no more questions. If Nilak queries you, tell her we have decided the time is propitious for you to have a child. The caliph wishes it, and the lady Alia wishes it. Then later I shall speak to her myself regarding the matter.”

“What if the caliph wants to visit my bed tonight?” Rhonwyn said.

“He will not,” Baba Haroun said with assurance.

“How can you be certain?” she demanded.

The chief eunuch chuckled. “Because he will be tasting the charms of a red-haired virgin from the Basque region I recently purchased for him in the marketplace for just this occasion. The caliph has a particular weakness for virgins. Her initiation into the amatory arts will keep him busy the entire night. Surely you understand his appetites for passion by now, Noor.”

“Indeed,” Rhonwyn said. He claimed love for her, yet he could be tempted by a virgin, she thought irritably.

“Go now,” Baba Haroun said. “I will come for you when the time is at hand.”

“My brother?”

“Will be waiting along with those two rather disreputable fellows he travels with. Oth and Dewi, I believe they are called,” Baba Haroun said.

“They are not disreputable,” she said softly. “They are the kindest and best of men, Baba Haroun. They helped to raise me.”

“So they told me, and in the most execrable Arabic I have ever heard spoken aloud,” Baba Haroun said dryly. “They love you even as I love my mistress, Noor. That more than anything else convinced me that I was doing the right thing in helping you to escape Cinnebar.”

She caught up his two large brown hands and kissed them. “Thank you! Thank you, Baba Haroun!”

He was startled by her generous gratitude. He drew his hands from her light grip. “You know why I aid you, Noor, and yet in doing so I must betray my master. I do it gladly for the lady Alia, but I will bear the guilt all my days. Rashid al Ahmet truly loves you. Your
death
will pain him greatly. I do not know if I shall ever be able to compensate him for your loss, but I will try.”

“Do you censure me then, Baba Haroun, for my desire to leave Cinnebar?” Rhonwyn asked him.

“You cannot help yourself, Noor. In your heart you hold a memory of love for Edward de Beaulie. All my master's love cannot hope to overcome that other love. So, I will help you to go this night.”

There was nothing left to say, Rhonwyn knew, and so she bowed again to the chief eunuch. His words made her feel sad, and yet she could not change how she felt. She hurried from Baba Haroun's private chamber, swallowing back her excitement as she did. She must not be stopped now.
Not when her freedom was so close!

R
honwyn looked down upon Nilak. The older woman slept hard, snoring softly in her drugged slumber. Reaching out, Rhonwyn gently touched the woman's head in tender farewell. Nilak had been so good to her. “Don't put her to minding the children,” she said softly to Baba Haroun. “She hated it.”

“I shall place her in the household of Prince Moham-med's favorite. The girl is sweet natured but has no older woman to properly guide her. Nilak should do quite admirably,” he concluded wryly. “Come now. We haven't much time, my lady Noor. The evidence of your demise has already been placed below your terrace. I am grieved you had to cut your hair, but it will grow back.” He led her from her quarters through the dimly lit corridors of the palace.

To her surprise they passed no one, not even the guards. “I want Sir Fulk,” Rhonwyn said suddenly.

“He will surely expose the life you have lived here,” the chief eunuch said.

“Even so, I cannot in good conscience leave him behind,” she replied. “Besides, I intend to tell my husband everything.”

“He will either not believe you or spurn you, Noor, but as your heart is good, I anticipated your request. The knight awaits you with your brother and his two men.”

“How are we to leave Cinnebar?” she asked.

“You are joining a caravan headed for the coast,” Baba Haroun told her. “You will be at Carthage in a week. From there you are on your own, but you will manage quite well, I suspect.” He stopped suddenly and began counting the tiles upon the wall. Then he pressed against one and a door sprang open in the wall. “The passage is straight,” Baba Haroun said. “It is just a few feet. Come, I must light your way.” He disappeared into the dark passage, and she followed, starting as the door closed behind her. Within a minute or two, however, another door opened ahead of her. She could see several dark figures. She hesitated, and then she heard Glynn's voice.

“Rhonwyn, hurry!”

She turned to face the chief eunuch. “Thank you,” she said simply, and then moved past him to join the others.

“Go with Allah,”
she heard him say, and then the door closed again behind her.

“Come on!” Glynn said. He took her hand, and they hurried off.

“Where are we?” she demanded of him.

“A back alley outside the palace walls,” he said low. “Now be silent, sister, else the guards on the heights hear us.”

“Where are we going?” she whispered.

“To our lodging to complete your disguise,” he told her, and then she was quiet.

They finally reached a small house, entering it quickly so as not to be seen by any in the street. Rhonwyn flung off her cloak and hugged her brother first, then Oth and Dewi. She turned to Sir Fulk, who appeared to be in remarkably good health.

“You were not mistreated?” she queried him.

“Nay, my lady. I was set to instructing the young prince in the arts of war. I am treated very well. I have even learned enough of their tongue-twisting language to get by quite nicely. I am grateful for your help, but I don't want to come with you.”

“What?”
Rhonwyn was very surprised. “Why on earth not, Fulk?”

“In Cinnebar, my lady, I hold a position of importance as the heir's military instructor. I am a younger son and can never hope to attain such worth or influence in England as I have here. The caliph's son likes me, and I like him. We are not so far apart in age. I am his senior by only six years. I believe I shall have greater chance for advancement here in Cinnebar than if I go home to England. My parents are both dead, and I have but two elder brothers. There is no lass who waits for me. I came with you tonight because Baba Haroun said you would not believe him if he told you these things. He did try to dissuade you from taking me, didn't he? But you, he said, would insist. He likes your sense of duty and loyalty.”

“But how will you get back into the palace, Fulk? You are a slave as I was,” Rhonwyn said in a worried tone.

“The young prince freed me months ago,” Fulk explained. “He said a slave should not be teaching him the things he needed to know. I can come and go in and out of the palace with impunity, my lady.”

“What am I to tell your brothers?” Rhonwyn asked him.

“That I died bravely defending you, my lady,” Fulk said with a small smile. “The truth, we both know, would but bring them shame. That a brother who went so nobly off on crusade to free the Holy Land from the infidel, but then joined the infidel, would be more than they could bear or understand. But I must do what is best for me. Here in Cinnebar I can practice my own faith without fear of reprisal, which is more than any Jew or man of Islam can do in England. I wish you Godspeed, my lady.” The young knight bowed to her as he kissed her hand. Then he turned and departed the chamber.

“At least my conscience is clear,” said Rhonwyn slowly. She turned to her brother. “Where is Edward?”

“I saw him last in Acre,” Glynn responded, “but there is something I must tell you, Rhonwyn. Edward truly believes you are dead. He is preparing to marry his cousin Katherine de Beaulie when he returns to England.”

“Then we must get to Acre quickly,” she replied.

“Nay,” Glynn said. “We must return to England so that you will be at Haven awaiting your husband when he returns. The lady Katherine is a sweet woman, but her brother, Rafe, is a hard man. They must be dispossessed and returned to their own manor. You are perfectly capable of husbanding Haven until Edward returns to England.”

“And just how am I to force Rafe to give up his hold on Haven?” she demanded of her brother.

“Our tad will aid you if you ask him, sister. This is no time to be over-proud, Rhonwyn,” Glynn said bluntly.

“Better we go to Acre so Edward sees me and does not believe it is a hoax played upon him,” Rhonwyn said.

“
Nay!
For once, sister, do what is asked of you and do not be willful. This is what has gotten you into difficulties all along, doing what you wanted instead of what was right and expected of you. Edward is angry that you dashed into a battle. He is angry that you were captured and lost him one of his knights. He will believe nothing of you but the absolute truth, but I fear his anger when he learns you have known another man. It will take every bit of your strength and knowledge to convince him that he should not disown you,” Glynn told her earnestly.

“I love him,” Rhonwyn said as if her love could solve the problem. “I know he loves me.” But having heard what her brother reported, she was now not so certain of her husband's love. How could he have given her up for lost so easily and made plans to marry Katherine de Beaulie? She was confused as to what to do, and then Oth spoke up.

“Better you be at home awaiting him like the wife he wants you to be than suddenly appearing before him in Acre, lady.”

“Are you certain it would not be better for us to go to Acre, Glynn?”

Glynn nodded his dark head. “We must go to England as quickly as we can, sister,” he told her firmly. “Now, you need to get ready to travel. Our caravan leaves at first light. There on the shelf is a bowl, a rag, and two pitchers. The large pitcher contains a dye for your skin. You must cover your entire body with it. Our host's daughter will do your back for you, but you will dye your hair black with the contents of the smaller pitcher. Your clothing is laid out on the chair. Pantaloons, a shirt, a vest, and boots. You already have your cloak. Be careful with it, and do not lose it. Baba Haroun has sewn a cache of gold coins in a secret pocket for you.”

“Why must I be totally dyed?” she demanded, sniffing at the pitcher. “The stuff smells foul.”