Two of the tallest, most muscularly built men Alesta had ever seen stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the entrance to the inner chamber of the tent palace. They said nothing, but remained stiff and staring with their curved swords out of their scabbords and laying flat against their naked chests. The coolness of the metal seemed not to matter to these immense sentries. Their eyes remained fixed on the infidels before them and on no one else.
The Saracen who guided them inside motioned that they were to remove their weapons. Lord Balian complied immediately. Alesta followed his example and divested herself of her small sword. Her knife remained hidden and she was relieved that it was not searched for by any of the Saracens inside. That was one small comfort. Horkwood and the soldier reluctantly removed their weapons. Arnaud, like Jayhawk, had none to remove. At a signal from the Saracen, the two sentries stood aside and permitted the prisoners to pass into the inner chamber of the tent.
Multi-colored silk cloth separated the inner chamber of the tent from the compact, narrow entranceway. All around the inner chamber hanged silk in colors different even than displayed majestically in the most brilliant of rainbows. Alesta's breath was nearly taken away with the serene, colorful beauty of the cloth and its remarkable coloring.
Here and there among the softly flowing silk folds stood armed sentries and young serving women. These sentries were far less imposing than the two at the entrance. The women, their beauty hidden by silk veils mimicking in miniature the silk hangings, were short, slight of build, but unquestionably mature as the prisoners could tell by the curvature underlying the brief clothing they wore.
So taken was she with these sights, Alesta's eyes took a long moment to complete their survey of the chamber and to come to rest on the man who sat on silk pillows between two other Saracens. He had a handsome face, even though exotic looking to a woman newly arrived from France. His nose was long and narrow, then curved inwards in a way that gave the impression it had been struck by an object. His beard was sparse but well maintained. It flowed into a point that appeared to be sharply chisled. His complexion was dark, somewhat olive in tone. His lips were reddish brown and his eyes...
Alesta paused struck by the incredible warmth of the brown in the man's eyes and his concurrently penetrating gaze that seemed to bury itself into her very soul. She felt fully revealed before him, although not a word was spoken between the Saracen and Alesta or any of the prisoners up to that moment.
The man's eyes moved from prisoner to prisoner, pausing on each, returning to and pausing on Alesta somewhat longer; and then the Saracen turned his gaze full on Lord Balian.
"Balian," said the Saracen in his somewhat high pitched, yet purely masculine voice. "We meet once again."
Balian bowed as would a man before his liege. "Unexpectedly yes, your Excellency, Saladin."
Alesta's eyes remained riveted on the Saracen. So this was the great Saladin, the man most feared and hated in the West, the pagan conqueror and murderor of good Christian people, the man who... Here she quickly suppressed her thoughts. No. Her husband was still alive. There must be hope.
"Unexpectedly? Are you not attempting to survey the might of the Saracens and then reporting what you have seen to the rest of those you call Crusaders?"
"No, your Excellency. I gave my word I would not take up the sword against you if in exchange you granted safety for my family. I have kept my word."
"Yet you travel with these, one of whom is a soldier, another is a knight, the infidel cleric is another. The last is a... H'mmm, I cannot say. What manner of person are you, tall man with eyes green as jade?
"A minstrel, your Excellency, among other things," said Jayhawk.
"A minstrel? Balian, you amaze me. You choose to travel with a remarkably diverse entourage while on a scouting mission."
"They are on their own mission, your Excellency," said Balian. "They are not on any mission of mine since I have no mission other than to find my family."
"Is your family lost? Not in Tyre as you said to me once before?"
"No, your Excellency, not lost. I have learned they are in Jerusalem."
"Oh. That is most unfortunate. Jerusalem is where we are bound."
Balian frowned. "That is expected, your Excellency."
"I hope not overly expected. It will be some time before we arrive. There are wounds to heal, the need to rest, supplies to gather. No, indeed it will not be soon." Saladin smiled. "And this should be good news for you, Balian. You should have time to find your family and lead them to safety before we Saracens march through the city's gates in triumph praising the name of Allah."
"Yes, your Excellency. There should be time."
Saladin turned to look at Alesta. Her heart began to pound once more and the pit of her stomach knotted like the branch of a lightning struck oak.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 02-15-2003 @ 03:03 PM).]