Alys Clare - The Paths of the Air

‘Leo Rubenid is not a man to suffer an insult in meek silence. As soon as he discovered his betrothed had fled with her lover, he selected two of his most ruthless and efficient Frankish mercenaries — their names are William and Tancred — and a Turkish bowman called Touros to go with them. It was this trio who landed on Sicily and, for me anyway, they presented the worst threat.’

‘Naturally so, for they would have taken you back to Leo and to a marriage you did not want.’

The young woman was watching her, one eyebrow slightly raised. ‘It would not have been marriage that awaited me, my lady,’ she said. ‘Leo would only accept a virgin bride, and the moment he discovered I’d had a lover he would not have wanted me any more. He would, however, have been determined to punish me. He would have made sure nobody knew he’d captured me and then he would have offered me to his men and watched as one by one they raped me. Then he would have had what was left of me sent down to one of the brothels on the coast and ordered some whoremaster to chain me up in a very small cupboard for the exclusive use of those men who were too diseased and too repulsive for the other prostitutes.’

‘You — how can you know this?’ Helewise whispered.

‘Because that is what he did to the girl he wished to marry before me when he found out that she had taken a lover.’

‘And still, knowing this, your parents were keen for you to marry him?’ she asked incredulously.

‘They did not know it, my lady. Please do not think worse of them than you probably do already.’

‘How did you find out?’

‘It was I who was being forced to marry him; it was up to me to discover all that I could about him and so I found people who, for a price, would root out such things. As I told you just now, I kept hoping that I would come up with something that would change my mother’s mind, and indeed I suppose I did, only it became irrelevant because I fled with — with Brother Ralf.’

A look of intense sadness crossed her face. Helewise believed she knew its cause and she got up and stood by over the young woman, putting out her hand. After a moment, it was grasped and tightly held.

‘Your mother would understand if she knew the truth,’ she said gently.

‘I keep hoping so,’ the woman said. ‘I torment myself with the thought that my mother and my dear father believe me to be an impulsive ingrate who abandoned them without a backward glance.’

‘If you love them and they you, then they will feel in their hearts that cannot be true.’ Helewise squeezed the hand and the young woman squeezed back; her grip was surprisingly strong. ‘They have known you all the years of your life. Their understanding of you will have told them what you are and I believe they will be well aware that whatever made you run away, you had no choice.’

There was a short silence. Then: ‘Thank you, my lady. Your words console me.’

Helewise returned to her chair, moving slowly and giving the young woman time to recover herself. When once more she was seated, she considered what she was about to say. Then, meeting the young woman’s eyes, she began, ‘I do not suppose that you are aware of it, but there are two Hospitallers lying in the infirmary here. They are the surviving members of the group that followed your Brother Ralf all the way from the desert outside Margat. One thing puzzles me: if Brother Ralf was not an avowed monk in their Order, why should they have gone to such lengths to try to catch him and punish him? Did they not know that he had not taken his vows?’

The young woman’s green eyes were steady and she did not look away. She said, ‘Thibault of Margat knew all about Brother Ralf. He was well aware that in fleeing Outremer Ralf had committed no crime against the Knights Hospitaller.’ She leaned forward, her expression intense. ‘My lady, it is not Brother Ralf that the Knights Hospitaller want so desperately to get their hands on. It is what he carries with him.’

‘ So just who is it,’ Josse demanded, ‘these Frankish mercenaries whom you fear so much wish to find?’

John Damianos looked into his eyes. ‘She is the daughter of Gerome’s kinswoman Aurelie and her husband, Count Hugo of Tripoli. She was betrothed to a man who regarded her already as his wife and whose men, if they find us, will kill me and take her back to Outremer and to the very worst sort of captivity.’ He paused, then added softly, ‘Her name is Paradisa.’

Several pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Josse said, ‘So, in addition to the other reason for your flight from Outremer — to take your prisoner to safety and deliver up the treasure to whoever you thought should receive it — you also had to ensure that this Paradisa escaped from her would-be husband.’

‘Correct,’ said John Damianos. ‘I love her,’ he added.

Josse grinned. ‘So I imagine.’ Then — for this was no time for levity — ‘Where is she?’

‘There is an abandoned house deep in the Great Forest,’ John replied. ‘We came across it when we were making for Hawkenlye Abbey, where I had to go because — where I was hoping to have my wound treated.’ Josse was sure he had been on the point of saying something else but he did not press the matter. ‘We found a key and let ourselves into the undercroft. We knew we were doing wrong and had no business living in someone else’s house, even in the undercroft, but we were careful and we kept it very clean and tidy. We intend to-’

‘When did you last see Paradisa there?’ Josse interrupted.

‘Three days ago,’ John replied. ‘I left her while I sought another hiding place — this place — and I told her I’d return as soon as I had found somewhere.’ There was sudden anxiety in his eyes. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I have been to the house in the woods,’ Josse said. ‘I followed Akhbir there early in the morning the day before yesterday.’

John Damianos shot to his feet and grasped Josse by the collar. ‘You let Akhbir escape? How could you be so careless? Dear God, but I must get to her-’ He lunged out of the shelter but Josse grabbed his arm and held him tight.

‘Wait, John!’ he cried. ‘Listen. Akhbir knew where the house was. Either he followed your tracks or he had already discovered it. Anyway, he was striding up to it when he was shot and killed by a bolt from a crossbow.’

John had subsided. He looked at Josse, his eyes wary. ‘He’s dead? You are absolutely sure?’

‘Aye, I swear it’s true. I returned the next day and discovered someone had buried his body in the woods. I too found the key but the undercroft was empty. The hearthstones were still warm so whoever had been there cannot have long gone.’

John said nothing.

‘John, you must tell me what has happened!’ Josse cried, exasperated. ‘Who shot the crossbow bolt? I am quite prepared to believe it was in self-defence, or rather in defence of Paradisa, but who is it that’s such a deadly shot? He was confident enough in his skills to fire a couple of warning shots that landed far too close to me for comfort.’ Still John did not speak. ‘Tell me! Who is guarding Paradisa while you are away?’

John raised his face and looked straight at Josse. ‘Nobody. It’s just the two of us, as it has been all the way from Constantinople.’

‘Then who fired the shots?’

‘Paradisa.’

‘But she — she’s a woman!’

John smiled suddenly. ‘Indeed she is,’ he murmured.

‘Women can’t fire crossbows! It’s unheard of!’

‘You might not have heard of it, Sir Josse. Paradisa was born into a family that longed for sons and she was encouraged in activities traditionally reserved for boys. Her father bought her a falcon and she was taught how to fly it. She also wields a knife very effectively and a foot soldier who came out with the crusaders was employed to teach her how to use the crossbow.’