Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [103]
She turned back to the window. Neither Ware nor Kadar were in sight. They had probably gone to sup with Kemal. Tomorrow they would leave El Sunan.
And she must be gone before Ware returned again.
Ware and Kadar rode out of the gates at dawn the next morning.
“You’re very grim,” Kadar said as they rode up the hill. “You’ve spoken scarcely a word since you visited our lovely Thea last night.”
“There wasn’t anything to say.”
“And Kemal was most distant also. I felt my glowing presence wasted on the two of you.”
Ware glanced back at the fortress. The courtyard had been filled with Kemal’s soldiers when they had left, and the gates were still closed. “He’s full of dreams of glory. Thea has promised him a banner for Saladin.”
“My God.”
“My response precisely.”
“Is it not enough she plays her game with Kemal?”
“Evidently not.”
Kadar started to laugh. “What a clever puss.”
“A puss who may be skinned by Kemal at any time. We have to find another place for her.”
“It will be difficult. With Richard on the attack, I doubt if you can find another Saracen who would take in a Christian woman. They’re far more likely to offer her head to Saladin on a silver tray. And you’ve already decided she cannot go to the Franks. What is left?”
“God knows.” His frustration was building more by the moment. “Why does she have to be so stubborn? Doesn’t she know she’s better off where she is?”
“She does not like prisons.” Kadar glanced at him. “You would do the same.”
“I’m a man.”
“She would not regard that as a valid argument.”
“Because she’s a willful, obstinate woman who was put on this earth to plague—”
Drums.
He glanced over his shoulder to see two columns of six soldiers marching through the gates, pounding rhythmically on huge conical-shaped drums. Kemal was clearly exiting his fortress with all pomp.
Ware reined in as he reached the crest of the hill. “I’m surprised Kemal doesn’t have fan bearers waving palm leaves before—Jesus!”
“What’s wrong?” Kadar’s gaze followed his to Kemal’s plump, ornately armored figure riding through the gates. “He does look a trifle ridiculous. How do you suppose he manages to wield a sword bearing all that weight?”
“Not Kemal,” Ware whispered. “The banner.”
“That’s right, you haven’t seen it before.” Kadar tilted his head appraisingly as his glance shifted to the flag bearer. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”
“No.” It was a nightmare.
“You must not be unfair because you envy Kemal. Thea did fine work. I’ve never seen a more splendid banner.”
Splendid was not the word for it. The scarlet-and-gold pattern came alive as the first strong beam of sunlight struck it. The muscles of Ware’s stomach clenched as he saw those fierce gold eyes.
“The birds in the four corners are phoenixes rising from the flames, the symbol of rebirth,” Kadar explained. “You can’t see it from here, but there are also tiny butterflies hovering over the flames. Thea says butterflies are the symbol of joy.”
“She told you about the banner?” Ware asked hoarsely.
“I asked her about it after I saw Kemal riding out of El Sunan one day.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, dammit?”
“And have you tell me to steal it? I thought it best not to mention it.”
“What—” He swallowed to ease the tightness of his dry throat. “What did she say about the lions?”
“Nothing. She was even very grudging when she told me about the phoenix.” Kadar gazed at the two standing lions facing forward, backs arched, each with a paw extended in the center of the banner. “Their attitude is very royal, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It’s an unusual position. Do you suppose they’re supposed to be marching?”
“No.” The column was closer now, and the throbbing of the beating drums resounded in every vein of Ware’s body. A breath of wind caught the banner, and the lions appeared to move. “They’re sitting.”
“I don’t think—”
“They’re sitting.” He jerked his gaze away. “It’s a throne.” He wanted to rage and howl. He wanted to ride down the hill and grab the banner from the flag bearer. He wanted to flee until he reached the ends of the earth. “It’s a lion throne.”
“I don’t think