Limassol, Cyprus - May 1191
N early three weeks had passed, but there was no sign of Liam MacEgan or the king. Adriana had seen the princess’s hope fading from her eyes, as they realized that they would remain prisoners of the emperor. Although Isaac Komnenus had not bound them in chains, they were locked in a chamber guarded inside and out. There was no privacy at all, and though she tried to shield the princess from the humiliation, there was little Adriana could do. The guards cast lots for the right to guard the interior of the chamber where they hoped to catch a glimpse of them.
Queen Joan never stopped complaining. From the moment they’d been taken captive, she’d made outrageous demands, for which the emperor had mocked her. When she’d insisted upon softer beds, he’d sent her a length of silk, removing the only mattress in the room. That night, they’d huddled together on a wooden floor, with nothing but the silk.
Joan had refused to humble herself, and they’d endured weeks of stale food and uncomfortable living conditions. But it was the princess who concerned Adriana the most. Berengaria had grown so thin over the weeks, her face pale while she stared for hours on end at the sea outside their barred window.
“We’re not going to be rescued, are we?” she whispered. “The Crusaders who came on those ships . . . they’re dead, aren’t they?”
The remaining two ships had arrived only hours after their imprisonment, but the emperor had seized control of them, taking the king’s treasure and murdering the men. From their window, they’d seen the bodies of the Crusaders, displayed like bloody prizes of war.
Adriana tried to reassure the princess. “The emperor knows Richard will come. He wouldn’t bother with guarding the shore otherwise.” She crossed the small room and pointed to the hills where the Cypriots were bringing down carts filled with wood and stone. Over the next few hours, the men set out large stones, chests, doors of wood, and all manner of building materials to fortify the beach.
One of their guards stepped in front of the window, barring their view. Though he could not speak their language, his message was clear. Adriana hesitated before moving back, sending him a slight smile as she withdrew.
The distraction was enough, and she stole his curved knife, hiding it behind her back. If the Cypriots were preparing for battle, it meant that an invasion was imminent.
The door to their chamber swung open, and a young maiden appeared, trailed by two of her ladies. She gave a sharp order to the guards, and they obeyed the command, leaving the room. In heavily accented French, she said, “I have been ordered to bring the princess and the queen to my father.” Adriana remained against the wall for a moment, slipping the guard’s curved blade beneath the girdle at her waist, just behind her back. Neither Joan nor Berengaria moved forward, but while the guard was focused upon the noblewomen, Adriana donned the princess’s cloak to hide the knife.
“Why does he want to see us?” Berengaria asked, her voice calm. But Adriana knew that the soft voice hid the young woman’s fears. All of them knew that they had been kept alive only to be used as hostages . . . or worse.
The young girl shook her head. “I do not know.” She wrinkled her nose when they drew closer and added, “I will arrange for you to bathe and refresh yourselves before you are presented to him.”
Berengaria cast a worried look back at her, but Adriana nodded. The girl’s offer was made in good faith. To the princess, she said, “If they intended to kill us, they would not bother with the way we look now.”
“That’s what I am afraid of,” Berengaria said.
She closed her eyes, and Adriana went to her side. “He probably wants to prove to Richard that we are well, despite the captivity.”
Berengaria reached for her hand and Adriana took it. As they followed the girl down the winding stairs, she took them into a walled garden. The warmth of the sun and the lush fragrance of jasmine flowers lifted her spirits, though she was more reassured by the weapon she’d hidden.
As the girl brought them up another set of stone stairs, Adriana drew Berengaria to a stop and pointed towards the sea. There, she spied the sails of nearly a hundred ships.
“They’ve found us,” Berengaria breathed with thankfulness.
Adriana wondered if Liam MacEgan had alerted the king. Or whether he was still alive. The handsome Irishman had been like no other man she’d met, and the memory darkened her heart with regret. Brave and strong, he was one she’d wanted to know better.
When the young girl took them within her own chambers, she arranged for them to bathe in privacy and offered them clothing in the Cyprian style. Though Berengaria refused to wear the foreign garments, Adriana agreed to try them. The soft diaphanous fabric was like nothing she’d ever felt against her skin. She wore a cream-colored anteri tunic and soft salvar trousers. Though it was strange, not to be wearing skirts, she liked the clothing.
“You must feel like a concubine,” Berengaria teased. “I can’t imagine wearing clothes like that.”
Queen Joan stiffened, smoothing her own silk gown. “I prefer not to look like a savage.”
The princess’s mood dimmed at Joan’s words. Adriana adjusted a fold of her clothing and admitted, “It’s more comfortable than what we were wearing earlier.” But she had other reasons for wearing the new clothes. If she needed to defend the princess against an attack, the lighter trousers gave her more freedom of movement.
The girl led them from her chamber to a large, open pavilion. The sun had grown hotter, and though Adriana tried to see if any of the ships had come closer, the walls were too high to view them.
The emperor awaited them upon a throne inlaid with gold, while servants waved palm branches over his head to provide cooler air.
With the help of a servant who translated, the emperor announced, “The invaders have come for you. My men have seized the treasures that were within your ships, and your king must decide which he wants returned to him. His gold . . . or his bride.”
Berengaria’s face changed, and there was anger within it that Adriana had never seen before. The princess stood tall, and whispered in the Norman language, “Adriana, when they take us back, I want you to make your escape. Tell the king what has happened to us. Make certain he knows where we are.”
“I’m not leaving your side,” she insisted. She couldn’t rely on Joan to protect Berengaria; not when the queen might say something to offend the emperor.
“They’ll use us for bargaining. But I worry about your life.” The princess reached out and squeezed her hand. “Forgive me, but you have no value to them. They may use you as an example.”
Though Adriana didn’t like it at all, she understood what the princess meant. No doubt Isaac Komnenus would display the queen and princess, using them as leverage to get what he wanted from Richard.
“I don’t want you to die,” Berengaria insisted. “I’m afraid for you, if you stay.”
Adriana bowed her head in acquiescence, but inwardly she knew if anyone discovered her, she would be killed. Either way, her life was in danger.
Isaac looked displeased with their private conversation, and he ordered his men to separate them. Adriana was dragged away from the princess, who gave her a nod of permission.
As the guard brought her back towards the courtyard, Adriana studied their surroundings, wondering how she could possibly break free. Her gaze settled upon some of the women who had veiled their faces.
And then she knew exactly what to do.
Just before dawn, Liam MacEgan rowed alongside the other men, bringing the smaller boats closer to the shore. The beach was covered with obstructions meant to prevent them from using war horses. It wouldn’t stop Richard, however. Already, several of the smaller boats were within distance that the horses could swim to the shore. Liam’s task was to bring the soldiers close enough to clear a path.
The archers launched a shower of arrows upon the Cypriots, and from the chaos, it was clear that they’d taken them by surprise. When they reached shallow water, Liam unsheathed his sword and charged forward with the others. His blood raced with fear and the thrill of fighting. He’d been trained by his father and uncles since he was old enough to hold a sword, and as he faced his enemy, it soon became clear that these men were not warriors.
The farmers and merchants had been ordered by their emperor to defend the land . . . but without weapons, they were dying by the hundreds. Liam stopped attacking and moved into a defensive posture. Only if they made the first move would they taste his sword.
As they moved past the enemy, they climbed uphill toward the city. The gray morning light was starting to illuminate the ancient Roman ruins dotting the landscape. Nearer to the center lay the fortress where Liam suspected the princess and queen were being held captive. Adriana would be among them.
The image of her face remained strong within his mind with her beautiful dark eyes and slim form. She had more courage than any other woman he’d met, for she was a survivor. He’d hated leaving them here, but without King Richard knowing their whereabouts, there could be no rescue.
When they reached the fortress, it appeared to be constructed around the ruins of an old basilica. Liam ordered his men to fall back, and they retreated behind one of the stone buildings. He needed to study the defenses, to determine the best approach. Aye, they could likely make it through the front gate, but without knowing how many guardsmen were waiting, it could endanger his men unnecessarily.
He lifted his gaze to the upper segment of the fortress, for he suspected the princess and queen were being held in a fortified location. He hadn’t told any of the men about the prisoners—only that they were to seek information about the emperor’s defenses. Just when he had decided to lead his men along the outer walls, he heard the sound of a confrontation nearby with men shouting orders.
He gestured for two of the men to follow him while the others retreated along the left side of the fortress. Liam ran lightly, his hand resting upon his sword. Ahead, he spied a veiled woman running through the streets. Two guards pursued her, and it was clear that their speed was overtaking hers. He was torn between helping the woman and remaining focused upon their mission. But when the woman saw them, instead of fleeing, she ran straight toward them.
She didn’t make it. One of the guards grasped her by the veil and jerked her backwards. When the man unsheathed a curved blade, Liam didn’t stop to think, but charged forward, a roar tearing from his mouth. The guard’s attention shifted just long enough for Liam to drive his own sword into the man’s gut.
Shocked eyes met his, but the blade fell from his enemy’s hand, and he let go of the woman. When the other guard caught up, he took one look at his fallen companion and fled.
A curse slipped from Liam’s mouth. Their chances of infiltrating the fortress would be gone as soon as the man alerted the others. He sheathed his weapon and held out his hand to the woman. He couldn’t have been more surprised when she suddenly threw herself into his arms.
Berengaria’s heart beat so fast, she could hardly catch her breath. The emperor had ordered her and Queen Joan to be bound with silken ropes, and neither had slept last night while they’d awaited Richard’s arrival. From the hundreds of ships that lined the coast, Berengaria had no doubt that the men would come soon.
The question was, what would the emperor do with them, once the king’s men arrived? Though she wanted to believe that Richard cared enough about her to bargain for her life, she didn’t know.
It seemed like almost a dream when she’d seen him last in Sicily. She stared out into the blinding sun, twisting her fingers around the chain of the jeweled cross that hung hidden beneath her gown.
Hours passed, and she ignored the food and drink that were offered to her. From deep within, she reached for courage. If Adriana were there, her lady-in-waiting would offer words of encouragement, insisting that they would be rescued. Although she knew her friend had managed to escape, using the blade she’d stolen from their guard, Berengaria was afraid of what would happen if they caught her. They wouldn’t hesitate to take her life, in return for the men Adriana had wounded. Berengaria closed her eyes, hoping to God the young woman was still alive.
The noise of battle rose within the air like the rumbling of thunder, and Berengaria’s heart raced as the crusaders surrounded the fortress. She lost count of the dozens of armored men who poured through the gates and tried not to stare at the death and destruction that was happening all around her.
At last, she spied Richard. He was mounted on horseback, fully armed, and his chainmail glinted with gold and silver. Tall and strong, he rode forward, his sword cutting down the men who dared to oppose him. She understood now why they named him Lionheart, for not once did he flinch in battle. When he finally spied her, she couldn’t stop the smile that broke forth. The look in his eyes was filled with relief, and she wanted nothing more than to race forward and fall into his arms.
But something reflected against her eyes, forcing her to look up. It was then that she saw the dozens of archers with their bows drawn . . . aimed directly at her and Joan.