Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [105]
“But if I hear he’s going to do battle against the Franks with banner flying, I’m to come back here to tell you.” Kadar nodded. “I approve. I was afraid you were going to forget reason and be ruled by your emotions.”
He couldn’t afford to give in to the fear tearing at him. He must not make any mistakes. Danger was closing in all around them, and one misjudgment might mean Thea’s death. “Don’t let Kemal know you’re in Saladin’s camp.”
“Am I a fool?” Kadar mounted his horse. “No one sees me if I don’t wish to be seen.” He looked down at Ware. “It’s truly the same lion throne in Thea’s banner?”
Ware nodded. “I swear it. Though God knows how she knew.”
“I have a suggestion.” Kadar’s eyes were twinkling. “Perhaps you talk in your sleep.”
Ware shook his head.
“Or maybe you murmured it with the sweet words you gave to her.”
“I gave her no sweet words.”
“Never? No wonder she finds it hard to forgive your sins.” He turned his horse. “If you won’t admit to a loose tongue, then it must be chance. Fate does not seem to favor you, my friend.” He lifted his hand in farewell. “It’s just as well you have such a stalwart, brilliant comrade to balance the scale.”
“Yes, it is,” Ware said simply.
Kadar glanced over his shoulder, disconcerted. “At last you realize my worth.”
“I’ve always realized it. I could have no truer or more valiant friend on this earth. Go with God, Kadar.”
Kadar, for once, appeared at a loss for words. His pace as he spurred through the grove back toward the road resembled flight. His discomposure didn’t last long. “You forgot about ‘brilliant’,” he called back over his shoulder. “True, stalwart, valiant, and brilliant.”
“Brilliant.” Moisture stung Ware’s eyes as he watched Kadar until he was out of sight. After all these years of striving to distance himself, he had deliberately drawn Kadar down into the quagmire surrounding him. Once the Templars knew about the banner, no one who had made contact with it would be allowed to live.
Scarlet lions with slanted golden eyes.
Power and majesty.
Death and rebirth.
Dear God, how had she known?
TWO MONTHS LATER
AUGUST 20, 1191
ACRE
“THE FOOL IS GOING to do it.” Vaden watched with disbelief as the soldiers drove the long line of Muslim captives outside the gates of the city. “For God’s sake, stop him.”
“It is disrespectful to speak so of His Majesty.” Robert de Sable, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, gazed straight ahead. “Saladin has shown ill faith in the surrender negotiations. King Richard believes he must be taught a lesson.”
“It’s not ill faith. Saladin seeks to strike a fair bargain to protect his people. Richard need only have a little more patience.”
“His Majesty wishes to push on toward Jerusalem to liberate the holy city from that infidel.”
“That ‘infidel’ treated his captives with utmost honor when he captured Jerusalem four years ago. He could have followed the example of butchery set by the Crusaders during the Second Crusade, but he did not.”
Robert de Sable turned to look at him. “I find it curious you would defend him when captured Templars are never ransomed but executed immediately on his orders.”
“A compliment. He doesn’t want his men to face us in battle again.” Vaden’s hands clenched on the stones of the battlement. “There are women and children among those captives. Speak to Richard. He thinks well of you, or he would never have persuaded the Order to accept you as Grand Master.”
“He thinks well of me because I’m not foolish enough to interfere when I know it will do no good. He wishes to teach Saladin a lesson.”
“The devil he does. He doesn’t want to bother with caring for captives on the way to Jerusalem.” He could tell by de Sable’s expression that his protests were to no avail. Why was he even trying?
Because it was senseless. There should be some reason in this world. Men should not take life on a whim or because they could.
But they did and called it glory.
“I think it best you leave here. I will not risk you offending His Majesty.” Robert de Sable added, “The Marshalls tell me you