Defender of Jerusalem by Helena P Schrader

Author:Helena P Schrader [Schrader, Helena P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
ISBN: 9781627872737
Publisher: Wheatmark
Published: 2015-07-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Jerusalem, March 1185

IT HAD SNOWED DURING THE NIGHT and the roofs were white, but the cobbles were black where the snow had melted and mixed with dirt and manure. The party of riders made slow progress on the slippery stones, and the shopkeepers lining the street took advantage of the fact to try to lure them inside with promises of flea-free beds and spiced wine. Eventually, however, they reached the large residence on the corner of Jehoshaphat Street and the Street of Spain. The broad stone façade of the three-story flat-roofed building had a large arched door giving access to the inner courtyard, and a battery of windows protected by iron grilles on the ground level. The third story was marked by double-light windows with delicate double pillars separating each pair. But the most distinctive and unusual feature was a loge on the second floor, supported by a line of simple Doric columns stolen at some forgotten date from a long-lost Roman structure.

The lead rider leaned out of his saddle and rapped on the wooden door with his mailed fist. Almost at once the double doors were thrown open to admit the twenty riders. They were wrapped so completely in fur-lined cloaks that it was hard to tell that the men were armored, or that there were two women in the middle of the group.

Inside the courtyard, Humphrey de Toron jumped down and went to help his wife dismount. He was wearing thick sheepskin boots that made no sound as he moved, and unlike the mailed feet of some of his retainers, they did not slip on the wet cobbles. He held Isabella’s bridle and off stirrup so she could get down, and then turned the horse over to a young black youth who appeared out of nowhere and grinned at him.

“Eskindar!” Isabella recognized Dawit’s younger brother. “You’re all grown up!”

“I’m fourteen!” he answered in annoyance.

“Where’s Dawit?” Isabella asked next, looking around the congested courtyard.

“I don’t know,” Eskindar answered indifferently. “I’ll take Sultana. She’ll be happy to be home.” Isabella’s mare had been bred, born, and raised in the Ibelin stables and had been a wedding gift from her stepfather.

“So am I!” Isabella announced. Indeed, she could hardly stop herself from throwing her arms around the Ethiopian in sheer delight, but she could feel Humphrey stiffen beside her. So she slipped her hand in his instead and flashed him a smile.

Humphrey could not begrudge his wife her joy at being home. He knew how miserable she had been at Kerak, and they had found Toron inhospitable, too. It was hard to feel “at home” in the cavernous but nearly unfurnished fortress. But he was jealous of her affection for her mother and stepfather, because the treatment he had received from his own mother and stepfather had been so different.

The Dowager Queen was already coming down the stairs into the courtyard, and Isabella let go of his hand to run to her. “Mama!” She ran to her mother so fast that her hood fell off her head, revealing her neat white wimple.

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