Queen Of Knights Read online

  The smile brought back the memory of the past two days, when she had shocked Richard's army, and begun the spreading of tales that were a part of her plan.

  It had started the day after Morgan's death, in mid-afternoon, when the streets of Ascalon were at their busiest and both Christians and Moslems swarmed through the bazaar, buying and selling whatever suited their needs.

  Gwendolyn had appeared suddenly within one street, and all activity had ceased. Hundreds of eyes had fallen upon her and had drunk of her beauty.

  She wore the costume of a Norman lady, which contained, yet bared all her charms. Her feet were encased by doeskin slippers, which were only visible when she walked. An underskirt of pale blue flowed from her waist to her toes, broken only by the pure white bodice of the Norman over- dress which started at her hips, and veed to a perfect point midway down her thighs. But what attracted the most attention, and not a few remarks, was the matching v line of the bodice's top. The white material came together in a point, a full three inches below her breasts, showing clearly the porcelain of her skin and the outline of her full breasts. The darker circles of her nipples could also be faintly seen. Her face was unveiled. as was the custom of the Christians, but she wore a white coif-de-maille which covered her hair and then flowed across her shoulders, spilling over her breasts and ensuring a slight degree of modesty without hiding any of her more than abundant charms.

  The bodice was sleeveless, as the weather allowed, and the milkiness of her skin radiated under the springtime sun. For several hours, Gwendolyn' walked the streets, stopping at various stalls to inspect merchandise, but she bought nothing. The only thing she acquired were stares and followers, from whom Justin and three of his men protected her.

  That night, she appeared again as Eldwin and went to Richard's council meeting as she had the night before. She sat silently while the king outlined, again, his battle plan for Saladin's defeat. Yet although she listened intently, she cared little for what he desired. Her only desire—her obsession—was to free Miles. The battle between Christian and Moor meant little to her now, but those battles would serve their purpose, a purpose that was reinforced within Gwendolyn's mind.

  The only note of discord came from Richard himself, speaking to Eldwin and Justin. "Tell the Lady Delong that word has reached us of her wanderings within the city. Advise her to caution, for the Moors are not beyond spiriting away beautiful women to be sold into slavery and harems."

  Eldwin had not reacted, but Justin had, not with words, but with an angry scarlet flush across his face. Only Eldwin's gloved hand upon his arm constrained his reply to the king. When the council meeting had ended, and Justin and Eldwin had returned to the chambers of Radstock, it took all of Gwendolyn's self-control not to reply to Justin's heated, angry words for Richard. It was in that instant that Gwendolyn realized the depth of love Justin held for his mistress, and understood, also, that it was not a physical love, but one of loyalty to both herself, and to the man he pledged fealty to, Miles Delong.

  But not even Richard's words of caution had swerved Gwendolyn from the path she had chosen, and in the middle of the afternoon of the next day, she sallied forth again, to wander the streets and expose herself to the eyes of all.

  As she walked, Arthur, who had been absent that morning, met them in the bazaar. He went to Gwendolyn and whispered urgently in her ear that one of Saladin's emissaries was meeting with Richard.

  Making a quick decision, Gwendolyn ordered Justin to take her to Richard's chambers. Five minutes later, she stood before the guarded entrance while Justin spoke with a guard.

  "I cannot disturb the king," the guard stated.

  Gwendolyn stepped close to Justin and whispered in his ear. Then they turned, and the second the guard had relaxed, Justin whirled, pinning the knight's arms to his side and allowing Gwendolyn to enter the chamber.

  When she stepped inside, she froze. Seated on cushions were Richard and the Saracen. They spoke in fluent French, and Gwendolyn understood everything being said. Suddenly Richard glanced up and saw her above him. His eyes widened for a moment.

  "What are you doing here?" he demanded angrily. Instead of bowing, Gwendolyn straightened her shoulders and stared down at Richard. "I would speak with this man."

  Ignoring her insult, Richard rose and drew her aside, just far enough from the Moor so that they would not be overheard. "Lady Delong, this is not the time."

  "Will it ever be? I want word of my husband." Her voice was low, and the words barely audible.

  "When this meeting is over I will speak with you. Leave now before I lose my temper."

  Gwendolyn stared at Richard for a moment before stalking out. She was not angry, not even the least bit agitated, for she had accomplished what she'd wanted. This emissary would carry word of the tall, light-haired woman to Saladin.

  Later, when she was in her chamber, Richard came to her.

  His anger diminished, especially when Gwendolyn pleaded that it had been her heart which ruled her actions in her efforts to learn about Miles.

  "Yet, it would be proper for you to give us an apology," Richard told her after she had explained her actions. "But I feel you are not the type to do so easily."

  "Only when I am in the wrong. Until my husband is a free man, I will do whatever is necessary and will never find myself in the wrong!" Gwendolyn did not know what to expect, but Richard's smile was the last thing she thought possible.

  "He is well. He is treated like an honored guest. But Saladin will never release him. He has stated that to me many times, both in negotiation, and in fight. He knows of my feelings toward Miles and holds him over my head to taunt me."

  "I will have his release. Believe what I say, Your Majesty."

  "I sympathize with you and I hurt with you. I love Miles as a brother even more than as a loyal subject."

  "But I love him as a wife. I will win out."

  Richard left, but not before he again cautioned Gwendolyn about appearing in public. "A woman as beautiful as you would rouse the desires of even Saladin himself," he told her in farewell.

  Gwendolyn drew in a relieved breath after he'd gone. Ever since she'd arrived in Palestine, she had heard of Saladin's unending appetite for women—especially foreign women. Why, when he had the choice of any woman in his land, he wanted what was not available, she could not begin to guess, but it was that very peculiarity that gave her the perfect way of meeting him and freeing Miles.

  When she had interrupted Richard's meeting to demand news of Miles, she had really gone to show Saladin's man her charms, so that he would tell the sultan, himself, of the Frankish woman he had seen. For that was the second step in her twofold plan to secure Miles's release.

  Her original plan was to ride in the guise of Sir Eldwin, letting the Saracen army learn of the hooded knight's might. And, if Saladin continued to use Miles to taunt Richard during battle, she would do her best to reach her husband and free him. If this did not succeed, she would have her second plan ready, the plan that used Gwendolyn as bait, not Eldwin.

  Yes, Gwendolyn thought, and after this battle, word would reach Saladin that this woman wanted to speak with him. "My lord," called James, interrupting Gwendolyn's thoughts and bringing her attention back to the present.

  Eldwin turned to her squire and waited for him to continue. "I have sharpened your battle-axe," he said, extending the newly-honed blade for her inspection.

  Gwendolyn grasped the wooden shaft of the axe and gazed at the head. She wanted to begin the battle with the axe. Only when she had reached a certain point would she unsheath her sword and call upon its powers.

  Holding the axe in one gloved hand, Sir Eldwin lay back on the sleeping blanket and closed her eyes.

  <><><>

  The sun was up, and heat washed across the desert floor in shimmering waves. Tension so heavy that one could feel it filled the space dividing the two armies. This was to be Eldwin's first battle, yet she felt as though she had been fighting her entire life. Her
nerves were calm as she hefted the battle-axe in one hand and rested the rim of the shield on her mailled thigh.

  Beneath her, the stallion's muscles quivered in anticipation, and Gwendolyn knew the horse was also readying itself for the coming battle. Miles had trained the stallion, and he was of a long line of war-bred horses.

  Then she saw activity in the Saracen ranks and, suddenly, she saw what she had only heard about. A large cross rose in the enemy's midst, and tied to it was the body of her husband.

  Rage swelled within her while she was forced to watch this display. She had thought herself prepared for it, but now realized she wasn't. Sadness washed through her, riding hard on the tail of her anger. Then she saw an armored Saracen knight ride forward, his scimitar flashing with sunlight as he sped in front of the ranks of the waiting army.

  "That is their warrior of courage. He rides before the Saracens to show his bravery in challenge, and to stir the army into readiness," Sir Hugo explained to Eldwin. "The battle will start soon. Do not let the sight of Sir Miles disturb you, for that is what Saladin desires."

  Gwendolyn forced herself to hold back as she watched.

  Then Richard was at her side. "He is alive. He is unharmed. Do not let them anger you!"

  Eldwin spun to face Richard. Then, with her eyes locked on her king, she waved James forward. She pulled James's longbow from his hands and took an arrow from his quiver. With one more glance at Richard, she spurred the stallion ahead. Ten yards in front of the Christian army, Eldwin stopped the stallion.

  Slowly, the hooded knight notched the arrow and drew back the bow. Following the path of the challenging Saracen, Eldwin gently released the shaft. Everyone watched the arrow fly and traced its arc, waiting, their breaths held.

  A loud roar escaped from thousands of throats as the shaft struck its target at the only spot where the Saracen was vulnerable. The arrow entered the visor of the Saracen's helmet and pierced the knight's brain.

  Gwendolyn watched the Saracen fall from the horse before she returned to her place in the line. Richard stared at her for a long moment before he wordlessly urged his horse back beneath the banner of England.

  After Eldwin returned James's bow, she again looked across the sand dividing the armies. The dead Saracen had been taken away, and Miles, still tied to the cross, was carried to the rear of the Moslem army, where the cross was set upright in the ground.

  Then Richard raised his arm and the English army began its advance. Two thousand men and horses thundered across the desert to battle the enemy.

  Richard, riding behind his banner, was a stirring sight.

  Across from him, Saladin sat astride a white stallion, his armor glinting in the sun, a large scimitar held in his hand.

  Eldwin rode at the head of her knights and was a bare ten feet from Richard's side. Her axe, attached to the maille by a slender chain, was gripped in one gauntleted hand. But as she rode forward, her eyes never once left the cross upon which Miles was attached.

  As the sounds of the two armies grew louder, Gwendolyn held her gaze to the spot where the cross now stood. Behind her, wearing body armor and holding longbows, were Arthur and James. Then the trumpets sounded their final notes and the battle was joined. Gwendolyn spurred the black stallion forward, cutting across Richard's path and heading directly toward Miles. The knights of Radstock followed her, and with them they drew Richard and his own men.

  Soon she was in the thick of the Saracen knights, her axe flying with deadly efficiency, and none able to get near her.

  The pace of the battle filled her, and her own energy rose in response. She fought methodically, defeating time and again any who came against her. After the battle had been joined and she'd fought her way closer to the cross, she found herself facing only a single Saracen knight. As she rode to meet him, his scimitar descended. Moving by instinct, Gwendolyn urged her horse to rear, and at the same moment raised her shield to deflect the blow. The scimitar caught in the shield as her battle-axe completed its arc, and a loud scream reached her ears just as she felt the metal head of her axe bite through the armor to reach bone. A bare second passed before her opponent fell from his horse.

  But the scimitar was hooked in her shield, and the Saracen held its handle in a grip of death that threatened to unseat Gwendolyn. Bending with the weight, Gwendolyn straightened her arm and let the shield and scimitar slip free. Then she hooked the battleaxe to her armor while Arthur and James reached her side to protect her during the few moments she was vulnerable.

  Swiftly, Gwendolyn drew her sword. Then James shielded his twin brother while Arthur tied the Saracen's mount's reins to his saddle. Horses were an important spoil of war and not to be left behind.

  Gwendolyn took stock of the situation. All around Sir Eldwin the battle progressed, reaching the stage of individual fighting rather than the mass melee of minutes ago. She glanced around quickly and saw Richard strike down a foe and charge anew into the ranks of the Saracens. Then she saw Saladin, charging across the battlefield toward the spot she now occupied.

  Gwendolyn held up the silver sword and began whirling it over her head. She spurred the stallion forward, her eyes fixed upon Saladin. She needed to get by him in order to reach Miles, and, as Sir Eldwin, she was determined to do this. She reentered the battle, and with the silver sword flying in the air, she rode a straight line toward her destination. Knight after knight blocked her path, but she was in the grip of a battle fever the likes of which were unknown to her adversaries. Her arms were weightless, and her power strong. Nothing could stand before the might of her sword, and as she charged, Saracens fell to their deaths. No sword, javelin, or arrow penetrated her defense, while no man withstood her fatal strokes.

  She fought on, the silver sword a deadly blur in the air, until the path between Gwendolyn and Miles was open, save for one lone Saracen. Exhilaration flashed through her mind. She had done it! She had done what had been impossible for any other; she had fought through the Saracen army. Then recognition struck her sharply. The man facing her was no ordinary knight, it was Saladin, himself! Slowly, Gwendolyn raised her sword and invoked the power of the silver blade to aid her, and when she felt it vibrate within her grasp, she realized, too, that she must not kill Saladin. She would meet and defeat him, but she could not destroy him. Then she understood what must be done. There was one path still open to her. She must capture Saladin and use him to ransom Miles, and force negotiations between the two kings.

  Reining in the stallion, she stared at the Saracen leader.

  He sat proudly, his quilted body armor blood-stained but whole. Then she dipped her sword to him.

  Saladin gazed at this new Christian knight in wonder. The man had hewed a path through his finest men, and had not once been stopped. His prowess was amazing, but it brought no fear to Saladin's heart. Yet when the knight raised his longsword in challenge, Saladin was startled. Raising the visor of his helmet, Saladin bared his face to the Christian. It was then that he saw that the knight's face was not covered by a helmet bar, but rather a leather mask. And, the emir of the Moslems also noted the replica of the large eagle embroidered above the crest of his surcoat.

  Slowly, Saladin lowered his visor and raised his scimitar into the air accepting the challenge of the knight.

  Gwendolyn waited until Saladin had seen her before she charged. But when she was halfway to him, she saw a blurred shadow fly through the air and realized that someone had unleashed a javelin at Saladin. The Moor saw it, also, and drew back his reins sharply.

  The horse reared high on its back legs, and the javelin sank into the horse's flesh at the exact spot where Saladin would have been seated had he not forced his horse into the air.

  A second later, Saladin was on the ground, trapped beneath the dead white stallion.

  Without hesitation, Gwendolyn stopped her horse and dismounted, signaling James and Arthur to her. She ran to the trapped Moslem king and drew him from beneath the horse.

  Then, with her silver s
word at Saladin's throat, she waved Arthur forward and pointed to the horse he'd captured. Arthur untied the horse and brought it to Eldwin, while James guarded both Saladin and Eldwin from further attack.

  Lowering the blade, Gwendolyn held Saladin's deep eyes in a long stare before motioning Saladin to the mount. When he was astride it, Eldwin mounted her black stallion. It was then that she saw her route to Miles blocked. Hundreds of Saracens had formed a blockade behind Saladin. Javelins, arrows, and scimitars were held to the ready. Yet when she gazed at Saladin, he held his hand up, restraining his men.

  With a bow to Saladin, Eldwin turned the horse and rode back into the ranks of the English army, tasting the bitterness of her foiled plan, yet knowing she still had her other avenue open to her.

  Saladin watched the knight leave, and within him knew that he had faced the best that Christendom had to offer. He had no doubt that had they met in battle, he would have been hard pressed to win. Yet, when he had fallen, the knight had not taken advantage. The gesture of this unknown knight affected him deeply, and he felt honored with the gift of his life. Especially since to have captured Saladin would have given the knight untold honor, riches, and fame.

  Yet Saladin knew this knight represented something new.

  He represented a focal point which could not only unite the Christians, but charge them onward.

  Why, so late in this war, has so strong a champion emerged? With that question burning in his mind, Saladin turned his horse and began to marshal his men.

  <><><>

  "Who is he?" Saladin asked Miles the question in a low voice, but Miles did not miss the passion within it.

  "None know. Not even Richard knows who Sir Eldwin is."

  "But you do!" Saladin's words were statement, not question, and needed no answer. "Before I fell, I saw his design. His… coat of arms. It was the same as yours, but it differed. It had a band around the shield, and above it was a golden eagle. Was it the eagle who killed my hawk?"

  "I said you had been challenged."

  "So it was the trainer of the eagle."