A Memory of Love

'I shall have my servants bring you food, my lord Rashid,' Rhonwyn said, arising from her bed. 'And while we eat, will you tell me of your day?'

His dark blue eyes grew warm with approval. The whole palace was gossiping that he intended to make Noor his wife, but until this moment he had not decided the matter. It was a foolish man who thought only with his cock. Her newly unleashed passion was commendable, but it was her care for his welfare and her interest in his doings that brought about his final decision. He would indeed make Noor his wife. Like Alia, she was a nurturing creature, quite unlike the two who had been disposed of this day. And two wives, he thought, was more than enough for any man, even a caliph of Cinnebar. Tomorrow he would speak with the imam. 'Aye, Noor,' he said to her. 'I will indeed share my day with you as we eat.'

Chapter 11

“Well, Edward de Beaulieu,' Prince Edward said, 'do you think you are strong enough to continue on, or will you return to England? You have been very ill, and I will not count it against you, particularly under the circumstances.'

'I will go on with you, my liege' came the answer, 'but first I must seek my wife and Sir Fulk. They are surely being held captive nearby and can be ransomed.'

'Perhaps,' the prince responded, 'but I wonder if that is so, for we have received no ransom demand, nor have we been attacked since that day when your wife so bravely led our men. What a woman! I should like to see her and her companion, Sir Fulk, safely returned.'

'I will follow you in seven days' time, my lord, if I cannot find Rhonwyn. But I know that 1 will,' de Beaulieu said tersely. The prince's remarks about his wife's courage were somehow irritating.

'I will pray God that you do, my friend, but if in seven days' time you have found no trace of her, then you must give up your search. She will have been either sold into slavery in some nameless place or ravaged and killed. I am very concerned that a week has gone by and we have had no word, but you must search, else you and your honor not be satisfied, I know. I surely would not be. You know the road to Acre.' The prince patted Edward de Beau- lieu's shoulder.

'I have one favor to ask of you, my liege. Will your good wife take Rhonwyn's maidservant into her train until I find Rhonwyn? I cannot keep Enit safe among all these men, and she is a good lass, betrothed to one of my own people.'

'Of course,' Prince Edward said. 'Have her gather her possessions, and I will escort her to Eleanor myself.'

Enit began to weep when she was told of her fate. 'Please, my lord, let me stay with you and wait for my mistress to return.'

'Nay, Enit, it is not safe,' de Beaulieu told her. 'You will be reunited with your mistress in Acre, but in the meanwhile I know you will be secure with the princess's train. My search may be dangerous, and 1 cannot have you about to worry over. Now fetch your things and go with Prince Edward.'

'Yes, my lord.' Enit sniffled, but she did his bidding, gathering up her lew possessions and following forlornly after Prince Edward as be departed de Beaulieu's tent.

'There is one less worry,” Edward muttered almost to himself. He was still feeling weak, but at least he was on his feet again. In the morning he would take his two knights, and they would seek Rhonwyn and Sir Fulk. Rhonwyn. His wild Welsh wife. He didn't know whether he would kill her or kiss her when he found her. And Fulk! Where was his common sense that he allowed his lord's wife to run off into battle and then get them captured? To his credit Fulk had at least followed after Rhonwyn.

De Beaulieu understood that Rhonwyn was different from other women by virtue of her upbringing, but he had never liked it. He could even understand her desire to bloody her sword for the first time in a real combat, although most women he had known would have fainted at the mere thought of such a thing. Her mistake had been in becoming overconfident. Her passion for the battle should not have outweighed her caution, but it had, allowing her to be surrounded and then captured. But why had they taken her off and not simply killed her? He needed to know more than he already did. He called Sir Hugo into his presence and asked him to seek out someone who had been in the heat of the battle. Sir Hugo returned with a rather grizzled and gruff knight, Sir Arthur Sackville.

'I had heard it was a woman,' Sir Arthur said, shaking his head with disbelief. 'But I could not quite fathom such a thing. Your wife, you say?'

'Aye,' Edward answered. 'She is the daughter of ap Gruffydd, the prince of the Welsh.'

'Magnificent creature!' Sir Arthur enthused admiringly. 'She raced into the very center of it all, rallying us furiously! For the first time I felt our crusade was a truly holy and blessed thing, my lord. It was as if the angels were on her side.'

'Did you see her capture? Why did they take her instead of simply killing her?' de Beaulieu pressed.

'They didn't really. She had just killed the nobleman who led the infidels. I think it was in coming to his defense they found themselves surrounding your wife, although they certainly did not realize they had a woman. But they raced off with her in their midst. A single knight galloped after them, but I do not know his name.'

'Sir Fulk,' Edward said. 'He was my man and should not have allowed Rhonwyn into battle, although even I know it would have been difficult to stop her once her mind was set on it. Who was the man she killed?'

'I have no idea, my lord de Beaulieu. One of their nobles by his garb. I am sorry I can help you no further,' Sir Arthur said.

'Can you tell me in which direction they went?' Edward asked.

'Toward the mountains,' the knight said. 'Of that I am absolutely certain. They rode to the mountains, although why I do not understand. There is nothing out there, you know.'

'There must be something, else why would they have gone that way?' Edward replied.

'Nomads and their flocks, perhaps, but nothing else.' Sir Arthur paused as if considering his next words. Then he said, 'My lord de Beaulieu, while the infidels could not have known at first that the knight who battled them so fiercely was a woman, they would have eventually found her out. They have surely ravaged her and killed her by now. Yours is a tragic loss, I realize, but you will have to accept it sooner or later, I fear. And if by some miracle your lady survived, would you want her back after other men had used her? Forgive me, de Beaulieu, for saying it, but she is lost to you. God help her, she is gone.' He bowed to Edward. 'I am sorry I could be of no real help to you.' Then he exited the tent.

'Be ready to ride at moonrise,' Edward said quietly to his two knights. 'See to the horses and water now.'

'He's mad,' Sir Hugo later said as he and the other knight did their lord's bidding. 'Sir Arthur is probably correct, and the lady is dead or worse.'

'You knew her.' Sir Robert responded. 'If she were your wife, would you not at least attempt to find her? I know I would.'

It was alter midnight when the waning moon rose and they departed the crusaders' encampment. They rode toward the mountains, dark shadowed mounds upon the horizon. Above them in the clear black sky the stars twinkled in lonely splendor. Their journey ceased when the sun became too hot for travel. Then they would water the horses from the supply they carried and shelter in the gray shadow of the rocks. For four days they rode, but they saw nothing. No tents. No livestock. No people. Everything about them was wilderness. There was absolutely no sign of any civilization, even in the foothills of the mountains. Not a trace of human habitation was visible. It was as if the earth had opened up and swallowed Rhonwyn.

Edward's heart grew heavier with each passing day. He finally accepted what everyone had been telling him. Rhonwyn was gone. His beautiful wild Welsh wife was lost to him. He would never see her again. Giving the word to his two grateful knights, he turned their horses back to the sea, directing their steps toward the Acre road so they might join Prince Edward and his crusaders. On the first night of their return journey as his two knights slept, Edward hid himself among the rocks and wept for the woman he believed he loved. But in the days that followed, his heart hardened toward her. Everything that had happened was her fault. She had avoided her marital duties and