not understand. What are you saying?’
‘I am saying that despite my regular use of the douche syringe, and lily root, and extract of rue, just as my handmaidens instructed me, that nature, and the fact that you are already the father of four live children and one dead, has conspired to quicken you in me. That I am carrying your child, Hartelius, probably since our sojourn on Murano.’ The princess cocked her head to one side, the ghost of a smile on her face. ‘Are you quite sure you withdrew from me when you raised my shift behind that haystack, Hartelius? For I seem to have no memory of it.’
Hartelius stared at the princess. ‘You are carrying my child?’
‘Nobody else’s. My menses were due twelve days ago. They have not come. They always come. I am as regular as the seasons. I have been so since I was eleven years old. You understand the menses, don’t you, Hartelius? Their significance to women?’
‘Yes. I have been married. As you well know.’
‘I thought as much.’
Hartelius led the princess over to their shared bed. He sat down with her and took her hand in his. Gently he kissed it. Then he laid it firmly in his lap, still grasping it with both hands so that she could not escape him. ‘Listen to me. This changes everything. A man such as von Drachenhertz may conceivably accept, through sheer ambition and venal greed, the deflowered sister of the king. But he will never accept another man’s unlawful child. We have no choice in the matter now. We must somehow persuade the captain to put us ashore at Tortosa. Tortosa is a Crusader citadel that the Count of Tripoli put in the hands of the Templars in 1152. The city was besieged by Saladin in 1188 but the keep never fell. We will be safe there. We can be married at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Tortosa, which the count has now rebuilt after its plundering by Saladin’s men.’
‘You wish to marry me?’
‘Yes. I would never have dared ask you before now. You are a princess. I am a recently ennobled baron of notably low effect. Our stations in life are absurdly different. But no child of mine will be born without a name. If you don’t agree to marry me, I will kidnap you against your will, like one of the Sabine women, and forcibly wed you.’
The princess laughed out loud. A broad, infectious laugh that seemed to echo from some exalted place deep within her. ‘I believe I should like to be kidnapped, Hartelius. You have your princess’s express permission so to do.’
SIXTEEN
The captain of the nef ran his hand down his beard in the way a man might caress the flanks of a horse he has acquired for well below the asking price. His eyes twinkled with the knowledge that the conversation he was about to have might prove significantly to his advantage.
He had seen the two lovebirds together – how could he not? He had heard the gossip about them from his crew and from amongst the princess’s paid attendants. And he had heard that gossip confirmed by the cabin boy, who had been surprisingly easy to persuade once the mate had threatened to accidentally smash his fingers with a belaying pin.
There were ways in which he envied Hartelius, of course. What man would not like to spend a month aboard a vessel in the Mediterranean fucking someone else’s eighteen-year-old intended bride? But the consequences were vertiginous. No woman on earth was worth what von Drachenhertz would do to Hartelius once he got hold of him.
Despite all this, the captain weighed his words with care. It wouldn’t do to spook the golden goat. Or to alienate him utterly.
‘Landing you at Tortosa is an impossibility, Commander. The harbour is restricted. And three years ago I fell foul of a merchant there – a merchant with the power to make my life a misery if I ever again ventured into his waters. No. I shall take you on to Acre as I was commissioned to do. I am sure our war leader will reward me well when I hand the princess over to him as arranged.’
‘And what
‘I am saying that despite my regular use of the douche syringe, and lily root, and extract of rue, just as my handmaidens instructed me, that nature, and the fact that you are already the father of four live children and one dead, has conspired to quicken you in me. That I am carrying your child, Hartelius, probably since our sojourn on Murano.’ The princess cocked her head to one side, the ghost of a smile on her face. ‘Are you quite sure you withdrew from me when you raised my shift behind that haystack, Hartelius? For I seem to have no memory of it.’
Hartelius stared at the princess. ‘You are carrying my child?’
‘Nobody else’s. My menses were due twelve days ago. They have not come. They always come. I am as regular as the seasons. I have been so since I was eleven years old. You understand the menses, don’t you, Hartelius? Their significance to women?’
‘Yes. I have been married. As you well know.’
‘I thought as much.’
Hartelius led the princess over to their shared bed. He sat down with her and took her hand in his. Gently he kissed it. Then he laid it firmly in his lap, still grasping it with both hands so that she could not escape him. ‘Listen to me. This changes everything. A man such as von Drachenhertz may conceivably accept, through sheer ambition and venal greed, the deflowered sister of the king. But he will never accept another man’s unlawful child. We have no choice in the matter now. We must somehow persuade the captain to put us ashore at Tortosa. Tortosa is a Crusader citadel that the Count of Tripoli put in the hands of the Templars in 1152. The city was besieged by Saladin in 1188 but the keep never fell. We will be safe there. We can be married at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Tortosa, which the count has now rebuilt after its plundering by Saladin’s men.’
‘You wish to marry me?’
‘Yes. I would never have dared ask you before now. You are a princess. I am a recently ennobled baron of notably low effect. Our stations in life are absurdly different. But no child of mine will be born without a name. If you don’t agree to marry me, I will kidnap you against your will, like one of the Sabine women, and forcibly wed you.’
The princess laughed out loud. A broad, infectious laugh that seemed to echo from some exalted place deep within her. ‘I believe I should like to be kidnapped, Hartelius. You have your princess’s express permission so to do.’
SIXTEEN
The captain of the nef ran his hand down his beard in the way a man might caress the flanks of a horse he has acquired for well below the asking price. His eyes twinkled with the knowledge that the conversation he was about to have might prove significantly to his advantage.
He had seen the two lovebirds together – how could he not? He had heard the gossip about them from his crew and from amongst the princess’s paid attendants. And he had heard that gossip confirmed by the cabin boy, who had been surprisingly easy to persuade once the mate had threatened to accidentally smash his fingers with a belaying pin.
There were ways in which he envied Hartelius, of course. What man would not like to spend a month aboard a vessel in the Mediterranean fucking someone else’s eighteen-year-old intended bride? But the consequences were vertiginous. No woman on earth was worth what von Drachenhertz would do to Hartelius once he got hold of him.
Despite all this, the captain weighed his words with care. It wouldn’t do to spook the golden goat. Or to alienate him utterly.
‘Landing you at Tortosa is an impossibility, Commander. The harbour is restricted. And three years ago I fell foul of a merchant there – a merchant with the power to make my life a misery if I ever again ventured into his waters. No. I shall take you on to Acre as I was commissioned to do. I am sure our war leader will reward me well when I hand the princess over to him as arranged.’
‘And what
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