Free Captive Rose by Miriam Minger Page B

"I don't think you'll need bandages anymo —"
    "Listen to me, Leila," he interrupted her,
his tone so urgent she was compelled to meet his eyes. "I need your help."
    "My help?" she parroted, the intensity of his
gaze sending a jolt right through her.
    "Yes. Tonight I'm going to—"
    "Leila! Stand away from the crusader."
    Leila whirled at the sound of her father's stern voice,
so startled that she dropped a vial of ointment. The glass shattered on the
slab floor. Sinjar was standing next to the captain
of the guards, his white robes still rippling from his sudden entrance.
    " Wh -what is the matter?"
    "I have just come from the hospital. Word was brought
to me there by one of Governor Mawdud's high
officials."
    "I know, Fa —" She
clamped her mouth shut just in time. "I know, my master," she began
again. "I've already told our patient that a second messenger has been
sent to Acre—"
    "No, he has returned," Sinjar said gravely. "Come over here, Leila. Now. There is nothing more to be
done here."
    Bewildered, she glanced over her shoulder at the
crusader. His eyes held hers for a fleeting moment, then she quickly moved to her father's side.
    "The messenger and his Mameluke escort were met on the Damascus road by one of Sultan Baybar's generals," Sinjar continued. "When the
general heard where they were bound, he commanded them to return to the city."
    "But why? What of the ransom?"
    "There will be no ransom."
    "What is this, my esteemed lord?" blurted the
captain excitedly, his hand falling to the curved dagger in his belt. "No
ransom?"
    Sinjar shook his head slowly,
a pitying expression on his face as he regarded the crusader. "The general
has brought word that Lord Edward and most of his crusaders sailed from Acre
three days ago, though the reason behind their sudden departure has not yet
been determined. It is believed, however, that they are returning to their
country across the seas. To England."
    Leila gasped. If this was true, the crusader was a dead
man. Sweet Jesu , who could determine kismet?
    "What is it, Leila?" Guy asked, rising slowly
to his feet. His expression was hard, and strain showed around his eyes. "What
has happened?"
    Leila's hand was trembling as she touched her father's
arm. "He asks me what has happened. How shall I answer him? "
    "Say nothing. In the morning his fate will become
clear to him," Sinjar replied cryptically. He
turned to the captain, his tone commanding as he drew a rolled parchment from
his scarlet sash and handed it to him. "This was given to me by Governor Mawdud's official. Read it if you do not believe me, as I
doubt you will. It is our lord governor's wish that the crusader be well
treated this night. Give him good food and drink, wine if you have it. Offer
him an opium pipe. It may help him through his final night upon the earth."
    The captain hastily unrolled the parchment, his
shoulders visibly slumping as he read the document. "So it reads," he
muttered. He shot a venomous glance at Guy, who was again surrounded on all
sides by flashing swords, the guards preventing him from moving a muscle. "And
so, regrettably, I must obey."
    Leila's heart thundered in her chest as her father
pushed her none-too-gently toward the door.
    "But we should tell him!" she protested. "It
would be far more cruel not to. He must have time to prepare, time to pray—"
    Sinjar gave her another
shove, more insistent this time. "No, there is great danger here. You will
do as I tell you! "
    "Leila!
    She half turned at Guy's hoarse cry, her breath
stopping in her throat at what she knew was to be her last glimpse of him.
    "God in heaven, it's the ransom, isn't it?"
he shouted, his blue eyes a tempest of fury and disbelief. Thin rivulets of
blood trailed down his heaving chest from the razor-sharp swords holding him at
bay. "It's in your face. I can see it in your face! Edward has left for
England, hasn't he?"
    Leila's head snapped back around as her father seized
her arm and yanked her toward the