Free Beloved Pilgrim by Nan Hawthorne

crowed, "My God! Stephen
of Blois will never live that down. So I suppose he is going?"
    The Frank shrugged.
    Elisabeth ventured, "Did he flee the siege?
Why?"
    Reinhardt raised his eyebrows as he looked at
her. "Interested, are we? Well, yes, he did and he did it because
he is a lily-livered weak-assed shameful excuse for a man. He did
worse than desert, he convinced Emperor Alexios to turn back with
the army he was bringing to assist our armies."
    Gautier joined in in a squeaky voice, "'They
are dead, all dead, I tell you! Flee, flee for your lives!'"
    "Were they all dead?" she asked,
incredulous.
    "Not 'they,' dear girl. 'We.' We were very
much alive."
    "I should not claim exactly that, my dear
Gautier. We were starving to death. We were the ones under siege by
then. That fool monk insisted the lance was buried in the church,
and sure enough there it was. Everybody was hallucinating
something. For the bishop it was a holy lance. I for one was
hallucinating a feast served by houris."
    Gautier made an obscene gesture, then seeing
the woman's puzzled look, explained, "Virgins the heathens believe
will serve them when they go to paradise."
    "Sometimes I prefer the Paynim vision of
paradise to our Heaven. I would rather lie in an oasis sipping
nectar from the valley between a woman's breasts than on my knees
before Our Lord singing psalms. Can you imagine Bohemond with his
terrible voice singing psalms in the wrong key?"
    Gautier toasted his host. "Mayhap in heaven
all can sing like angels."
    "So who is going?"
    Gautier looked blank. "To heaven?"
    "No, imbecile. On crusade." Reinhardt picked
up the flask of wine from the table and refilled his friend's cup.
When he started to pour some for Elisabeth he saw the cup was
untouched. "Drink, you ugly bitch. Don't be inhospitable to my
guests," he rasped in her ear.
    She took the cup in her hands, brought it to
her lips, glaring at him, but set the cup down as full as it had
been before. He growled under his breath.
    Gautier was speaking. "That Archbishop of
Milan, Anselm or something, is gathering Lombards for a crusade. I
have no idea if he is getting any recruits."
    "Nothing from the Germans? The Franks?"
    Gautier spread his hands. "How should I know?
I would not put it past some of the young men who could not go the
first time. And I suppose your Emperor will want to send
someone."
    "Humph! Well, God help them and the Devil
take them!" was the Baron's ironic response.
    Elisabeth allowed herself to relax as the two
men drank and reminisced. All day she had been on edge, wondering
when Reinhardt would demand his matrimonial rights. She swung
between crippling fear and violent anger. She looked for Albrecht
whom she knew was trying to stay out of the baron's sight.
    "I can't stand it. I'll kill him. I'll run
away." She spat as she paced the aisles between the stalls in the
stable.
    Albrecht could think of no comfort. His own
nerves were raw, his internal debate as to whether to run himself
and desert her taking its toll.
    At the high table she began to wonder if she
would be alone for one more night. It was little comfort but it was
something. If he got drunk enough, perhaps he would not . . .
    "Well, my dear, it is time for bed. I think
under the circumstances the pomp and ritual of a bedding is
unnecessary." It appeared that Reinhardt had shared the delay after
their marriage with his friend, as the man just leered. Reinhardt
gave him a brisk nod. "No father or mother here to stop me this
time." He grasped Elisabeth's hand and stood, dragging her to her
feet. She was too stunned at first to resist.
    As they passed down the hall she started to
hold back. Reinhardt spun to face her. "Do not even think of
humiliating me before my men. You will get much worse than a
bedding."
    Her mouth agape, she let him lead her out of
the hall and up the stairs. He took her to her parents' old
chamber. Entering, he surveyed the servants' preparations and
ordered them out. He kicked the door shut and