Tanith of Gold 03

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Michael had his own spacious wing of the royal sleeping quarters and he roused his housekeeper, Portia, to take care of his guests. Portia was a voluptuous woman who had been saved from slavery when the King had abolished the slave market in Palermo. He had kept her in his own harem for a while and then assigned her to Michael. Her face was marred by a badly broken and crooked nose sustained when she was captured by corsairs in her native Thessaly.

Michael chose not to see Portia's eloquent glances after she had seen Tanith. Portia had not approved of his philandering. As one of the more eligible bachelors of the court with an expected large inheritance and as the King's life-long companion he had been sampling a seemingly inexhaustible list of well-connected women. His athletic build and aquiline features helped to allay his bookish reputation. But not one of the perfumed, soft bodies or limpid eyes kept him very interested for long. Portia herself had warmed his bed a few times, mostly to reassure herself that he still had a normal interest in women. She had taken her duties very seriously, nursing him through  recurring bouts of fevers and feeding him rich meals as she was convinced he was still growing. She had a rich, warm laugh and an irreverent sense of humour. She was free with her advice about women. The King had told Michael with a smile that she was an antidote to his constant seriousness.

Michael's ordered mind had already decided that because there were no other females in the King's Guard, Tanith would have to stay in one of his guest rooms with her grandfather in the adjoining room as a suitable chaperon. He explained this seriously to Portia as being the only logical choice. She agreed with a secret smile to herself.

Portia immediately bustled around the guest rooms and carried buckets of warm water to the large marble basins in each room and laid out fresh robes. Tanith and Robert retired to their rooms and soon appeared looking transformed. They were quite formal and almost severe in manner and the meal was often silent. Portia had cooked a grilled fish and a spiced couscous dish which was her specialty.

Michael found that he could hardly look at Tanith. She had brushed her hair back close to her scalp and tied it behind in a tight bun. Her full lips were pressed together, she did not speak much and her eyes were downcast most of the time but she seemed to be vibrating with emotion. Sudden and violent death tainted all of them. It was only when Michael motioned that Portia should join them with the final dishes of figs, preserves and nuts while they poured some more wine, that Portia raised a few smiles around the table with some gentle small talk.

Michael gave a great sigh as the mood lifted, “I have never had to say this to anyone before. You both saved my life tonight. I may take a few days to find the words to thank you properly.” He lifted his silver goblet. “A toast to my saviors.”

Robert answered gravely, “We needed to balance the debt as you did the same for us earlier. Those Assassin spies would have found a way to kill me and take Tanith. There are probably more of them. They make a habit of travelling in cohorts of six.”

Michael gave a start of horror. The legendary Assassins were shrouded in tales of stealthy, merciless killers.

“But,” he said, “they are Muslim are they not? Why would the Pope be employing Muslim killers? And how do you know? ”

Robert raised his shaggy eyebrows, “They are simply mercenaries, hired killers, like many of us ex-soldiers. One has to make a living no matter which way you turn to pray. They are well-trained and bound by many oaths of obedience and codes. They sometimes wear black robes and a pointed helmet but they have many disguises. I fear we will not see an end to tonight's business. The remainder of the cohort will take vengeance. ”

His calm and measured words chilled the room. “Yes, we had to strike swiftly today  - if that fool had not spoken his bragging little speech we would have been dead in a heart-beat. They begin with the crossbow and follow faster than thought with sword and dagger. Those bolts were a moment away from passing through your heart, Sir. Tanith saw the glint of the metal in the shadow before I did. We have signals between us ... the rest you know.”

There was silence as each of them reviewed the impressions of those violent few moments.

Portia broke the silence by asking Tanith directly where they had travelled from and where they had been living. Tanith began slowly but seemed to regain her spirits as she described the small settlement where they had lived in Crete. They had been cared for by the villagers in return for their services. Robert had set up a training school for the young people of the island where he taught them fighting and survival skills. The island had seen many masters and conquests but had been undergoing an unusual period of peace under the strong hand of the Count of Malta, a renegade from Genoa who had become a notorious pirate and adventurer. He had made Crete his own and ruled it with a just if impatient hand. He was named El Pescatore, the Fisherman, and was a flamboyant and intelligent man, but prone to insane outbursts of rage. 

Rowan asked a question he had been waiting to ask, “Why did you leave Crete then? I have been there - it is a beautiful place.”

Tanith froze and looked away, even though he had addressed her. Robert laughed for the first time and placed his hand on hers in a tender gesture.

“Ah, for some reason, I can't think why, certain men just fall in love with this young woman. Then she turns them down, usually quite kindly, I must say. And then, being men, they become angry. Powerful men do not expect young maidens to refuse them. And so it was with El Pescatore. He came visiting to look at our training school and the next day we received an invitation to his palace with four armed men to enforce it. Well ... I arrived back from a fishing trip to find that Tanith had not hurt them much, but they were tied up and becoming quite abusive. As one of them was related to El Pescatore we decided that it was best to disappear in my fishing boat. We met up with a ship after a while and bought our passage here. I was sorry to leave that cottage - we lived there for about three years ....”

Tanith abruptly stood and stiffly asked to be excused. Portia led her away, murmuring softly. There was a silence until Rowan looked up at Robert and saw his eyes glistening in the lamplight.

“Did I the right thing by teaching her to fight? Is it not unnatural for a woman? I was so angry that my own son's wife died violently when she could have at least died fighting instead of being spread and violated. She was very beautiful and so gentle.”

“Well,” he straightened up to his full height, “What is done is done. The time for regrets is past. Good night, Sir.” He departed quietly.

Rowan fell into bed and into a deep sleep mercifully free of dreams.

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