Free Lionheart by Sharon Kay Penman

against him. He fled with Agnes and his favorite concubine, but they were captured and brought back to the city, where he was subjected to torture and then turned over to the mob. He was doused with boiling water, had his eyes gouged out, his hand cut off—”
    “Stop!” Alicia cried in a strangled voice, fighting back nausea.
    Emma cocked a finely plucked brow. “I hope Agnes is not as squeamish as you, Alicia, given all she has had to endure. Surely you want to know what became of her? Sadly, we do not know. That was four years ago and her fate remains a mystery. I assume she is still alive, still dwelling in Constantinople, unless her ordeal drove her mad. But the point of my story is that Agnes is the full sister of Philippe Capet, the powerful King of France, and he did nothing whatsoever on her behalf. Brothers cannot be relied upon, Alicia, and that is why Bethlem and I are leaving your beloved queen’s service. A woman’s lot is not an easy one, and once she has no husband or father to protect her—”
    “That is enough!” They all spun around as Mariam stalked toward them. Alicia shrank back, but then realized that she was not the target of Mariam’s wrath. “The two of you ought to be ashamed,” she said scathingly, “scaring the child with such ghastly tales. What do you plan to do next, torture Alicia’s new puppy or poison the garden songbirds?”
    “It was not me!” Bethlem protested, her voice rising in a squeak. Emma attempted to stand her ground, but she was soon squirming under the heat in Mariam’s blazing brown eyes, and when Mariam told them to get out, neither woman argued. Once they’d fled the chamber, Mariam took Alicia’s hand and led the trembling child over to the window-seat.
    “You must not pay any heed to those spiteful cats, Alicia. They have not a single brain between the two of them, just more malice than the law ought to allow.”
    “Was . . . was it true, though?”
    “Alas, what she said about Agnes was true. But her tragedy has naught to do with Joanna, who is in no peril. This is Palermo, not Constantinople. Ours is a more civilized society. And Joanna is far from friendless. Have you forgotten that her brother rules the greatest empire in Christendom?”
    “Yes, but . . . but the French king—”
    “Philippe and Richard are as unlike as chalk and cheese. I know Joanna has told you stories of her brother. He is a brilliant battle commander, utterly without fear, so courageous that men call him the Lionheart. No one would ever call Philippe that, trust me. Mayhap Rabbitheart,” Mariam added, and succeeded in coaxing a smile. “Now do you feel better?”
    Alicia nodded, realizing to her surprise that she did indeed trust Mariam. “But what will happen when this Tancred becomes king? Emma and Bethlem said he is bastard-born, that he rebelled against King William’s father and spent years in gaol, that he is so ugly men call him the ‘monkey,’ that—”
    “Alicia, by now you ought to know better than to believe anything Emma or Bethlem says. Yes, Tancred was born out of wedlock, but he is of good blood; his mother was the daughter of a lord. And yes, he did rebel against William’s father. But he was pardoned by Queen Margarita and served William loyally during his minority and afterward. He is a brave soldier and a capable administrator and I believe he truly cares about Sicily. He is not a man to maltreat a woman, least of all Joanna, his cousin’s widow.”
    “Thank you, Lady Mariam,” Alicia said gratefully. “But . . . but you did not deny that Tancred looks like a monkey?”
    “Well, there you have me,” Mariam admitted, “for poor Tancred has been cursed with a face that would scare a gargoyle,” and they both laughed, a moment that would mark a turning point for Alicia. From then on, she viewed the Lady Mariam as an ally, and she jettisoned the last of her brother Arnaud’s values, adopting the beliefs of Joanna’s Sicily as her own.

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