Charles of Anjou filled my cup to the brim.
"Try the wine, my dear! My goodness, it's excellent!" he indicates without removing his eyes from me.
I force myself to take a few sips of the drink. I pretend to enjoy it, even if an unpleasant aftertaste remains in my mouth. Then, satisfied, the king's brother raves several times about my liberation, which he has managed so well.
"These damned Mohammedans are so greedy!" he finally proclaims with disgust.
"Your Highness, my husband will pay back the whole amount, of course."
"No way, Ada! This matter must stay between us because my brother refused to let his knights negotiate their ransom. Louis hates insubordination, and your husband shouldn't give me any money. The king won't be as lenient with a mere vassal as he's with his brother."
He said those last words with a very Capetian sufficiency. I sip more wine, upset at accepting such a heavy debt to Charles of Anjou and having to lie to Reyn. I don't even know how to explain my strange resurrection to him, especially since he's not a bigot quick to glorify a possible miracle.
The wine makes me lightheaded, and I can vaguely hear Charles's voice. He seems to be complaining that his fiefdoms in Provence are causing him serious worries.
***
I feel the sun's heat on my skin and open my eyelids to watch the place. It must be morning. I recognize the spartan furnishings of a warship, then the tall figure of the king's brother. He wears an azure tunic falling elegantly below his knees and faces me with a strange expression.
"How do I look? You have to be careful how you dress at Louis's court! My brother strictly forbids gold and silk!"
I shiver when I touch the blankets, the messy sheets.
For heaven's sake! What am I doing in Charles of Anjou's bed?
I try painfully to gather memories.
"You've fallen into a deep sleep, my dear! So I thought it best to leave you where you collapsed," he says, looking joyful, ironic perhaps.
"Collapsed?"
He lets out a laugh.
"The wine, dearest Ada! Tiredness too, no doubt," he suggests in a playful tone.
He comes closer, seizes my hand with authority to touch it with his lips.
"My brother Alphonse is finally free, and I'm going to join the king! I don't know when we will meet again! This ship will drive you to Acre, where your husband and his cousin are already."
This news soothes me, but it doesn't take away my worries. Once the Capetian is gone, I scrutinize my clothes, looking for a suspect tear. I sniff my skin, my light hair, and think I recognize the prince's smell.
Would he abuse me like a vulgar scoundrel? Could this aftertaste felt while drinking the wine be that of poppy?
With shortness of breath, I go on deck with the idea of making this disgusting pig confess, although he's the king's brother. But the Capetian is already on the ship of Oliver and his crossbowmen. Guillaume of Olivari greets me low before leaving the vessel in his turn. He has just handed over his command to a young man, almost a child.
Intrigued, I observe the boy and his companion, looking just as juvenile. The Capetian must have lost his mind to let me on this Pisan ship, in the hands of these brats. I stare at them both with an annoyed gaze when they mumble among themselves in Italian. They probably hope I don't understand this language and might as well confirm their idea.
"Excuse me! Where is the captain?" I ask.
The taller of the two has large, dark eyes, surprisingly like mine.
"I'm the boss of this vessel," he answers with a strong accent.
I burst out laughing without the slightest embarrassment.
"But you're only 'bambini'!" I reply.
I admit they're pleasant to look at but far too young to drive me safely to Acre. The other boy winks at me before slyly grabbing one of the buckets on the deck. I stare at them for a brief moment, hardly believing what is about to happen.
Alas, the damn brat is quick to throw ice-cold water at me.
Then the battle rages under the jeers of Italian sailors. Finally, we end up soaked but happy. I hadn't had such a good time for so long.
It's never hot on a ship, so they both lead me to the stern to offer me dry clothes. I feel as if I'm back to the palace in Cairo, with a profusion of damask, multicolored fabrics decorated with silver birds, beautiful fur blankets.
The two boys search everywhere, then hand me a pretty purple silk gown and a mantle in Flanders cloth. My two hosts took off their wet outfits without worrying about me. I notice their mischievous smiles discreetly and see they're as perfect as my beloved.
Two very young Greek gods to seduce ladies!
Once alone, I put on my new dress with joy. But, unfortunately, the brats come back so quickly that I suspect they have hidden to spy on me. They're starting to annoy me seriously, and I wish they would introduce themselves.
"May I know who I'm dealing with?"
They acted like a pretty pair of fledglings, hesitant and complicit, with a bow to present themselves.
Alceo Ciurini is from a Pisan family with many famous admirals. The other is a nobleman, Eriprando of Cortenova.
End of Book II
***
YOU ARE READING
The Wolf and the Snake (English version)
Historical FictionIn 1099, a mysterious child of noble origin was taken in by Jews who had fled the Crusaders' arrival in front of Jerusalem. Years later, Ada, the descendant of this child, travels through Palestine with her father. He's a merchant and knows medicin...
