In 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...
While riding to Marseille, I keep imagining that Reyn could be murdered. I'm racking my brain trying to guess the plans of the cursed Sordello and question Paulet with a weak voice, "Are you sure that this scoundrel hasn't confessed anything more? Does he intend to ambush my husband? Why did he say that the conspirators would be guilty? Is he their accomplice?"
"I don't know, my lady," Paulet sighs, "but Sordello being a coward, one can suppose that he will attack your husband by trickery."
Then he points to the horizon with his finger. One sees Marseille's gates in the distance, under the faint light of the twilight. "Nothing is lost, my lady," he says, "we arrive in my beautiful city, surrounded by walls up to the shore. The upper town is under the bishop's authority, and the count has no power there. So that's where we will enter."
I nod firmly, despite an alarming weakness of all my limbs. My body brutally tells me that I spent most of my time in bed only yesterday.
"You're pale, my lady," the troubadour notes.
"I' m fine! It's my natural skin tone," I answer to reassure him.
A broad smile lights up Paulet's face. "So much the better! My Douceline has a clear complexion and hair too."
I nod again without saying anything, too worried that the count has probably discovered my escape and might send soldiers after me. Paulet also looks worried as we cross the gates of the upper town, under the guards' indifferent gaze.
Once through the gates, the troubadour decides to dismount in a deserted area, overlooked by the imposing towers of the bishop's palace.
"I can't go more, my lady," he announces, "the count would have me hanged without hesitation if I were caught in your company. Besides, I have to join Douceline at the port!"
He picks up a stick and begins to draw a map on the ground, recommending that I memorize it.
"The seneschal and his men are staying at the communal palace. The place was given to Marseille's consuls, as the people's representatives, but the count saw fit to take over the place. To leave the upper town discreetly, you will have to cross fields belonging to wealthy families, and you will end up in the lower town, next to a monastery and a hospital. But the communal palace is across from the church of Sainte-Marie des Accoules. I insist that you go under the protection of your husband as soon as possible," the young troubadour says.
He then bids me a quick farewell, obviously in a hurry to sail safely to Spain. I watch Paulet's thin silhouette while he moves away, aware that I'm now alone in an unknown city.
With significant fatigue, I begin my journey toward the lower town. Unfortunately, my mount also gives signs of exhaustion while crossing muddy fields. I'm freezing and pull the ermine-lined cloak and the silk scarf tighter. I didn't want to burden myself with the count's detestable gifts, but Paulet advised me to cover myself warmly because the winter nights are often icy.
I walk through a maze of tortuous streets where people come and go despite the late hour. To my relief, I finally reach the monastery and continue my way. As I pass the hospital, I think with nostalgia about my job as a physician, which I no longer practice since we left Champagne.
I ask an old surly-looking bourgeoise where the church of Sainte-Marie des Accoules is. The woman curtly points in one direction, and I discover the communal palace, a beautiful building facing the church. The windows are already illuminated, although it's not yet dark.
This place looks strangely like the one I saw in my nightmares. Petrified, I'm taken of a terrible doubt as to the way forward.
Maybe I will be liquefied in front of the magnificent amber eyes, first filled with surprise, then with an imperious rage. And unfortunately, I must confess everything in one go because I don't have much time.
Reyn might want to wash the offense in the Capetian's blood immediately. He has a good chance of killing him, and we will have to leave the French kingdom quickly. I imagine the despair of the lord of Chasseney, his regrets for having welcomed me under his roof and accepted that I marry his son, making his misfortune and mine.
Not to mention that the king's wrath will fall on Chasseney and all its inhabitants.
With my mouth dry, I feverishly examine the other possibility, where the count survives. Except that this time Reyn is left for dead or thrown into a dreadful jail, and the Capetian threatens to condemn him to the gallows if I don't obey his wishes.
I have already experienced such horror in Egypt!
How can I tell Reyn that the count wants to have him gutted and undoubtedly offered him the post of seneschal to get me into his bed?
How can I tell him that the king's brother raped me in Egypt and then tried to do it again at Aix Palace?
How?
I wipe away the tears that roll down my chilled cheeks with a weary gesture.
Now, I realize I don't have the strength to confess everything to my husband!
But I might have the courage to put the despicable Sordello out of action.
Unfortunately, this is only a temporary solution, but it will give me some time to convince Reyn to leave the count's service and consider a future. With my heart pounding, I recall the map drawn by Paulet, which also indicated the port's location.
I clutch the pommel of a small dagger tucked into my belt between my fingers. Reyn gave it to me in Palestine to replace the one that has remained forever stuck in Bernard of Congast's body.
I make this crazy decision to find the tavern where the cursed troubadour must be. The night hasn't fallen yet, but time is running out.
I hide my face and hair under my cloak, then hasten my pace. Paulet told me that the curfew comes early in Marseille, and the bell of Sauveterre will not delay ringing to announce it.
***
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The church of Sainte Marie des Accoules dates from the 11th century. It was attached to the Sauveterre tower, where a bell rang the curfew and the alert in case of attack.
