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Authors: Miriam Minger
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mother was really not so
serious, Leila reasoned, lying back on the divan.
Maybe it was nothing more than the normal feelings of
losing one's daughter to the man she would marry. Leila would be moving to
another house, another harem. She and her mother would still see each other,
but not as often. That could certainly cause Eve pain, since they had always
been so close.
It also seemed her mother became distressed whenever
they talked about crusaders, and Leila determined then and there that she would
not mention the barbarian again. It puzzled her that Eve was praying for him.
She should really be praying for the guards who had to watch him instead.
Leila started as the pigeon suddenly left its
vine-covered perch and flew off toward the citadel.
"Don't roost in any prison windows, little one,"
she murmured under her breath. If the crusader could so easily threaten to snap
a guard's neck, she could only imagine what he would do to a hapless bird who strayed too close. Probably bite off its head with his
teeth!
Chapter 4
Guy stared stonily out the cell window, counting the
large, square bricks in the wall next door. There were thirty-three from the
flat roof to the bare ground and sixty-eight from the comer to as far as he
could see toward the front of the building if he craned his neck and pressed
his face against the cold iron bars. Then again, the ivy was so thick in some
places that he could have miscounted—
"God's blood, has it come to this?" he
shouted furiously, slamming his large fists down so hard on the Window ledge
that pain shot through his right shoulder. He grimaced, ignoring it.
He was surely going mad! Counting bricks to pass the
time, pacing his cell, watching beetles drag bits of straw across the floor and
red ants crawl up the stone walls. What next?
A familiar panic welled up inside him, cold sweat
breaking out on his forehead. Desperately he grasped the bars, inhaling deep lungfuls of air to calm himself. It smelled sweet, like
flowers, reminding him there was another world outside this cell, a world he
hungered to be a part of once again.
Dammit to hell, where was
Leila? Why hadn't she come back?
It had been almost two weeks since he had last seen
her. His only visitors had been the Arab physician Sinjar Al-Aziz, and that obnoxious captain of the guards who seemed to enjoy reviling
him and every Christian who had ever walked the face of the earth. What he
would do to that sour-faced bastard if he ever got him alone in this cell . . .
A songbird trilled somewhere above him, and Guy looked
up, blinded by the late morning sunlight. He squinted, searching the opposite
roof ledge for the bird before he spied it—a white-throated nightingale.
Resting his forehead on the bars, he closed his eyes
and listened to the melodic warbling, becoming more relaxed than he had been
all morning. The nightingale's song swelled and surged, rich and full, almost
masking the sound of rustling vines and excited whispers
Whispers?
Guy's eyes shot open, and he stared incredulously at a
ragged young boy who was expertly scaling the wall with a billowing net in his
hand, his small brown feet catching splayed toeholds on the brick outcroppings.
Another boy stood below, only a few feet from Guy's prison window, whispering
brusque commands and gesturing at the unsuspecting nightingale.
Indignation seized him. "Leave that bird alone,
you little heathen!" he roared, startling both boys, who looked from his
barred window to the nightingale as it fluttered its wings and flew away.
Guy knew cursing when he heard it. He smiled wryly as
the net-wielding boy colorfully vented his youthful fury upon him while
clambering down the wall. He ducked just in time to avoid a handful of thrown
rocks. Several stones struck the cell door, and the next thing he knew a guard
had flung open the peephole.
"Silence, infidel!"
Guy sobered at the harsh command, his anger rising
again like scalding bile. "You forget who is
serious, Leila reasoned, lying back on the divan.
Maybe it was nothing more than the normal feelings of
losing one's daughter to the man she would marry. Leila would be moving to
another house, another harem. She and her mother would still see each other,
but not as often. That could certainly cause Eve pain, since they had always
been so close.
It also seemed her mother became distressed whenever
they talked about crusaders, and Leila determined then and there that she would
not mention the barbarian again. It puzzled her that Eve was praying for him.
She should really be praying for the guards who had to watch him instead.
Leila started as the pigeon suddenly left its
vine-covered perch and flew off toward the citadel.
"Don't roost in any prison windows, little one,"
she murmured under her breath. If the crusader could so easily threaten to snap
a guard's neck, she could only imagine what he would do to a hapless bird who strayed too close. Probably bite off its head with his
teeth!
Chapter 4
Guy stared stonily out the cell window, counting the
large, square bricks in the wall next door. There were thirty-three from the
flat roof to the bare ground and sixty-eight from the comer to as far as he
could see toward the front of the building if he craned his neck and pressed
his face against the cold iron bars. Then again, the ivy was so thick in some
places that he could have miscounted—
"God's blood, has it come to this?" he
shouted furiously, slamming his large fists down so hard on the Window ledge
that pain shot through his right shoulder. He grimaced, ignoring it.
He was surely going mad! Counting bricks to pass the
time, pacing his cell, watching beetles drag bits of straw across the floor and
red ants crawl up the stone walls. What next?
A familiar panic welled up inside him, cold sweat
breaking out on his forehead. Desperately he grasped the bars, inhaling deep lungfuls of air to calm himself. It smelled sweet, like
flowers, reminding him there was another world outside this cell, a world he
hungered to be a part of once again.
Dammit to hell, where was
Leila? Why hadn't she come back?
It had been almost two weeks since he had last seen
her. His only visitors had been the Arab physician Sinjar Al-Aziz, and that obnoxious captain of the guards who seemed to enjoy reviling
him and every Christian who had ever walked the face of the earth. What he
would do to that sour-faced bastard if he ever got him alone in this cell . . .
A songbird trilled somewhere above him, and Guy looked
up, blinded by the late morning sunlight. He squinted, searching the opposite
roof ledge for the bird before he spied it—a white-throated nightingale.
Resting his forehead on the bars, he closed his eyes
and listened to the melodic warbling, becoming more relaxed than he had been
all morning. The nightingale's song swelled and surged, rich and full, almost
masking the sound of rustling vines and excited whispers
Whispers?
Guy's eyes shot open, and he stared incredulously at a
ragged young boy who was expertly scaling the wall with a billowing net in his
hand, his small brown feet catching splayed toeholds on the brick outcroppings.
Another boy stood below, only a few feet from Guy's prison window, whispering
brusque commands and gesturing at the unsuspecting nightingale.
Indignation seized him. "Leave that bird alone,
you little heathen!" he roared, startling both boys, who looked from his
barred window to the nightingale as it fluttered its wings and flew away.
Guy knew cursing when he heard it. He smiled wryly as
the net-wielding boy colorfully vented his youthful fury upon him while
clambering down the wall. He ducked just in time to avoid a handful of thrown
rocks. Several stones struck the cell door, and the next thing he knew a guard
had flung open the peephole.
"Silence, infidel!"
Guy sobered at the harsh command, his anger rising
again like scalding bile. "You forget who is
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