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Authors: Karleen Bradford

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BOOK: Lionheart's Scribe
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That was a relief. From the sound of it the sailors took off even before Sebrand and his men left. I lay absolutely still, almost without breathing, until all their voices had died away. Then, cautiously, I peeked out.

The beach was deserted. I threw back the canvas and scuttled out of the boat as quickly as I could. I glanced up at the sun and made note of its position. I had to be certain to be back before the men returned. I could see the city walls ahead of me and made for them, praying that the gates would not be shut.

It was very strange. As I walked I swear I could feel the solid land heaving beneath my feet. I had just got used to the rolling and pitching of the ship, it seemed, and now the land was unfamiliar to me. The feeling wore off after an hour or two, however.

In the event, the gates were wide open and there was such a bustle of people going in and out that no one took any notice of me at all. In minutes, I was within the town.

I looked around me with curiosity. The people appeared much the same as the people from my own country—a mixture of races. I heard the same babble of tongues. French, Arabic, Greek, as well as some dialects I could not identify. I had no idea where Sebrand and his men had gone, so I kept a wary eye out for them. It must have been market day because the streets were full of stalls withpeople selling all manner of wares. The smell of the food cooking reached right down inside me and twisted my stomach. It was no longer queasy and began to remind me that I had not eaten for days. I had no coins, however, so I tightened the rope around the waist of my tunic and went on exploring. Finally I summoned up the courage to approach an old lady who looked fairly friendly. I took the chance of addressing her in Greek.

“I beg you, mistress, could you tell me what city this is?” I asked.

She looked at me as if I had taken leave of my senses, but she understood and replied in the same tongue.

“Know you not where you are?” she asked.

I smiled, a simpering grin, and tried to look foolish and simpleminded. It must have worked, for her face softened.

“It is Limassol, lad. On the island of Cyprus.” Then suddenly her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn't be one of the foreigners off that warship, would you now?”

I opened my eyes as wide as I could. “Ship?” I asked. “What ship, mistress?”

“Oh, get on with you,” she snapped. “I've no time for simpletons.”

It seems she wasn't quite as friendly as I had thought, but that was probably just as well.

Limassol. On the island of Cyprus. I had heard of this land, but certainly never thought I would ever see it.

I determined to explore as much as I could in theshort time I had before I had to get back to the boat. The city is a pretty one and the day was fair. It was warm and the breeze that blew in from the sea was welcome. It carried all manner of foreign and exciting smells on it. I overlooked the background stink of garbage and began to enjoy myself.

Just when I was beginning to think of returning to the boat I found myself in a small back alley. It was a poor lane. The cobblestones were littered with refuse and no one had made any effort to clean it up. The houses on either side were little more than hovels and there were no pleasant smells here at all. It stank even worse than the butchers' alley back home in Messina. A few men lounged in doorways and stared at me in an exceedingly suspicious and unfriendly way. I had just about decided that I would do better to turn around and get away from there when a building at the end caught my eye. It looked like a stockade. A fence surrounded it and through the fence I could see soldiers. Some were lying on the ground, others pacing around. What caught my eye was their dress. They were wearing the colors of King Richard's army! Forgetting all caution I ran to the fence and put my face to an opening.

“Sirs,” I hissed, “who are you?”

One of the men whirled to face me. “Who are
you?”
he growled. “What manner of rat is whispering at our prison walls?”

“Are you King Richard's men?” I asked. Then what he said sank in. “Have you been taken captive?” I was confused. Where had these men come from and why were they being held prisoner?

I was ready to bombard the man with more questions, but he forestalled me.

“I don't answer questions from street urchins,” he snarled and started to turn away.

“Wait!” I called out, too loudly. I cringed back and cast a quick look over my shoulder to see if anyone had taken notice. A few curious glances were being cast my way.

“Wait,” I called again, more softly but just as urgently. I had to find out what was going on. “I am one of King Richard's men too. From Queen Joanna's ship,” I said, lying only a little. That got his attention. He whirled back to face me.

“Queen Joanna's ship?” he snapped. “Where is it?”

“Offshore. Anchored in the bay,” I told him.

He came over to the fence and motioned me closer. “Who has come ashore from your ship?” he asked.

“Only a small party of soldiers and myself,” I replied. I looked over my shoulder again. Most of the men were still ignoring me, but two of them had straightened up and seemed to be taking an interest.

“Get back to your ship as quickly as you can and tell your masters not to let anyone else off it. These Cypriots are capturing any of King Richard's men they can lay hold of and holding them prisoner. Most especially, tell them to guard the queen. She would be a prize beyond compare to Emperor Isaac Commenus, who rules here. Is the king's ship here too?”

“No,” I answered. “Only the queen's. Fromwhence came you?” I was burning with curiosity, even though I could see the Cypriots beginning to move in my direction.

“We are from two ships that were wrecked just along the shore from here. Some of us survived and made our way ashore, only to be taken captive. Warn your masters. Warn the queen!”

At that moment a voice called out from within the stockade. The man stumbled as he turned quickly away from the fence. Only then did I see that blood stained one sleeve and his left arm hung useless at his side.

Two townsmen were approaching. I did not wait to see anything else, but took to my heels as fast as I could. One of them yelled something after me, but I paid no heed. I did not stop running until I had escaped the gates of the city and reached the boat. I was just in time. No sooner had I hidden myself under the canvas when first the sailors, then Sebrand and his men, came back. I was relieved to hear them. I feared that they too might have been taken prisoner. It seemed they had met with an altogether different reception, however.

“A cordial lot,” I heard Sebrand say. Under the canvas, my eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I will report to the queen all that they told me and relay their invitation to her to come ashore and stay in more hospitable quarters until King Richard can be found.”

God help us, I thought. So that is why they let him go free. He has been well and truly duped.

They will take Queen Joanna prisoner and hold her for ransom! I had to warn the queen, but how?

I puzzled over it all during the choppy ride back to the ship. So concerned was I that I forgot to worry about my own safety when our boat was hoisted back aboard. I received a fair knocking about, but I was too busy thinking to let it bother me.

I could not go to Sebrand and tell him what I had discovered. He would be furious with me for stowing away and deceiving him in such a fashion. He would surely think, and perhaps rightly so I must admit, that my actions were poor thanks for the favor he had done me in allowing me to come along. But I had to do something. The danger to the queen—and to the rest of us as well—was too great. If she were taken hostage I did not doubt the Cypriots would attack the ship itself, and then what would happen? I certainly had no wish to be taken prisoner—or killed!

My brain tore at the problem, going first one way and then another. Suddenly the memory of Queen Joanna standing at the railing came back to me. She had looked kind. What if I went straight to her? She was bound to come out for air this evening again—I could lie in wait and accost her then.

The twenty-first day of April

I had to stop writing last night. My wick sputtered out and my quill broke. I will continue my tale now. It is so wondrous that I must set it down. I, Matthew of Messina, the lowliest of brats as I have so often been told, have actually talked to a queen! This is how it came to pass.

I tended to the horses and fulfilled my duties for the rest of the day yesterday and kept as quiet as a mouse, although I was most desperately anxious. I knew that Sebrand had reported to the queen soon after we returned, and I could only pray that she would not embark for the shore before I had a chance to speak to her.

As soon as the horses were fed and watered for the night I climbed back up the ladder. Luckily Sebrand was nowhere in sight, and the sailors are so used to my scuttling around now that they pay me no attention at all. My heart took a huge leap as I saw Queen Joanna pacing the deck in the stern. Her face looked even more troubled than before. I crept along the deck toward her, keeping a sharp lookout for anyone who might stop me. Within minutes I was close enough to her to speak. She was even more beautiful than I had thought. She was dressed in a gown of blue, dark as midnight, that shimmered in the light of a lantern hanging from the mast. The evening air was cool and she clasped a light shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was unbound and fell loosely around her shoulders. Never have I been so close to one so lovely. I drank in every detail.

Seeing her standing there, my tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of my mouth. How could I possibly dare to speak to such a great lady? Then I remembered what would happen if I did not.

“Your Grace,” I whispered. “May I speak with you?”

She started as if woken from a dream and looked around, not seeing me at first.

“Who is there?” she asked.

“My name is Matthew,” I answered, keeping my voice low. “I care for the horses.”

She frowned. “Come into the light, boy. What are you doing here and why do you dare speak to me?”

For a moment I almost turned and ran, but then I took a deep breath and mustered my courage.

“I was in the town today, Your Grace,” I said with a gulp. “I saw men from two of King Richard's ships imprisoned in a stockade.” Now that I had started my tongue almost ran away with me in my haste to say what I had to before she sent me away—or worse, called someone to take me away.

“I spoke with one of the men and he told me to warn you that Emperor Isaac Commenus is a liar. He has captured the survivors of two of King Richard's ships that foundered down the shore from here.” The words all tumbled out in one breath and I was forced to stop for air.

Queen Joanna looked at me. Her frown deepened.

“Your officer has just told me that this Isaac Commenus has offered me accommodation and shelter ashore,” she said.

“It is a trick, Your Grace,” I said. I know I sounded desperate. “He means to take you hostage.”

“Why should I believe you, a mere stableboy, and not your officer?” she asked.

“Sebrand has been tricked as well,” I answered. Ihad to make her believe me. “I am telling the truth, Your Grace. I spoke to the prisoners myself.”

She stared hard at me. I felt as if her eyes were looking right inside my head. It took all my will not to drop my gaze from hers. Finally, as if coming to a decision, she gave a little nod. “I have heard before that Isaac Commenus is a tricky and devious man. He was sent here as a governor for the Byzantine Empire, but now, it would seem, styles himself emperor.” She paused and looked thoughtfully shoreward, then faced me again. “Go back to your horses, boy. I will consider what you've told me.”

I turned to go and then stopped. There was one thing more. Did I dare ask her?

“Your Grace,” I said, “could you please not tell the officer that it was I who warned you?”

In the light from the lantern I saw one eyebrow lift. I swear her mouth quirked in the beginnings of a smile.

“So,” she said, “you went ashore without permission. How, I wonder, did you accomplish that?”

I hung my head. I was certainly not going to answer that question.

“Go,” she repeated. “I do not have to explain my decisions to soldiers. I will keep your secret.”

So here I am. All I can do now is pray that she will believe me and stay on board this ship.

The twenty-second day of April

Queen Joanna did not accept the emperor's invitation. She asked instead for permission for our crew to go ashore to buy food and wine, but that requestwas refused. It is clear enough now that we are not amongst friends.

The thirtieth day of April

Still no sign of King Richard. He must be searching for us, especially when his sister and his intended bride are on board this ship. Sebrand told us that our ship is also loaded with treasure—probably the dowry that King Richard forced King Tancred to return to him. What will happen to us if Isaac Commenus hears of that, I wonder.

The sixth day of May

King Richard has arrived! The whole fleet appeared over the horizon just before sunset. A welcome sight indeed. With their sails filling the sky the ships looked like a great flock of gulls swooping in. We are surrounded now by dromonds and galleys, and King Richard has summoned Queen Joanna and Princess Berengaria to his ship.

The seventh day of May

King Richard has demanded that Emperor Isaac Commenus release his men and give back the loot he stole from the wrecked ships. The emperor has refused. I wonder if he has heard what happened to King Tancred when he crossed the English king.

The eighth day of May

We are preparing for war, but so is Isaac Commenus. On the beach we can see an immense barricade being thrown up. I have been watching allmorning. The emperor's men are hauling out old barrels, casks, doors, window frames, shutters—whatever they can lay their hands on, it seems. They have even piled pieces of wrecked ships and planks and benches on the sands. Every kind of debris imaginable is piled up on that beach. It makes a formidable barrier for King Richard's men to break through. As well, no fewer than five Greek war galleys have sailed out from the harbor and positioned themselves between us and the shore.

BOOK: Lionheart's Scribe
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