The Saracen: Land of the Infidel Part 95

From his seat on the floor, David looked up at her with a hard smile.

"And, since I am certain you gave him incomparable pleasure in bed, he will overcome any objections he has to seeing you again."

She felt as if he had stamped on her heart. To him she was nothing but a harlot to be used to ensnare his enemies.

And if that was all _he_ thought she was, how could she find it possible to think any better of herself?

_If I am not a wh.o.r.e, what am I?_

But she would tell him the truth whether or not he chose to believe it.

"Nothing happened between us," she said tonelessly.

He stared at the carpet. She saw hope struggling with doubt in his face.

Doubt won. His smile was cynical.

"You failed to seduce him? I cannot believe that."

"Whatever you may believe, that was how it was."

"Why do you bother to lie to me?" Anger smoldered in his face. His cheeks were reddening.

"Why _would_ I lie to you? It would make no difference to you if I went to bed with Simon."

"If, as you say, nothing happened, then explain to me why it did not."

He folded his arms and sat hunched forward.

"When a man like Simon is in love--" she said, and stopped. "You _do_ understand what I mean by love?" How did a man brought up in Egypt as a slave to Turks feel about women? Saracens, she knew, kept their many wives locked up most of the time.

Daoud shrugged. "I can only guess at what _you_ mean by love."

"A man like Simon shows his love by holding back his ardor. He does not realize that I know this. I have let him think he is teaching me about courtly love."

"And what did you learn by letting him woo you in this courtly way?" He looked pleased. He was beginning to believe her.

"He tried to find out things from me. He is such an innocent. He had no idea that I was telling him what you told me to tell him."

David sighed, stood up, and walked to the window. She could see the tension in his back. How broad his shoulders were. Not huge, like those of some knights, but graceful and powerful. His posture was not just erect; it was perfect, straight yet flexible, like a blade of the finest steel. She imagined him with his s.h.i.+rt off. The palms of her hands tingled at the thought of stroking his shoulders.

"Did you not want to take him into your bed?" His voice was cold.

She thought back to her night with Simon. During those hours when she had been Sophia Orfali, she had been disappointed when Simon insisted that he would not touch her. But Sophia Orfali had to accept his judgment.

Earlier, she had wanted to take Simon to bed as a kind of revenge on David for letting Rachel be used by the Tartar. But last night she had let Simon decide what they would do. When she was with Simon, she was what Simon wanted her to be.

_Is that what I am, a woman who becomes whatever the man she is with wishes?_

She expelled her breath in a short, sharp sigh.

"I wanted to do whatever was necessary. If it had been necessary to make love to him, I would have done it."

She shut her eyes momentarily. Her head spun. Now, with David here, she wanted David, not Simon. And she hated herself for wanting him, when he saw her as no more than a useful object, as Manfred had.

_If only Alexis had lived. These loves I feel for men, for Manfred, for Simon, for David. I cannot help myself, and it betrays me. It divides me against myself. And they do not return my love._

And yet, she was sure David did care for her, perhaps even loved her, though he would never admit it. Why else this jealous questioning?

_That might even have been why he killed Simon's friend!_

The thought made her heart stop beating for an instant and her body turn cold. Killing Simon would have upset David's plans, but he might have taken out his jealous rage on Simon's friend.

"But what did you _want_ to do with de Gobignon?" he demanded, turning from the window.

He would not let it alone. She slid off the bed and got to her feet. She went to the chest and stood with her back to David, staring at the picture of the saint. Anger clouded over her vision so that she could not see the painting. She clasped her hands together to control their trembling.

"I do not have to tell you that," she said in a choked voice. "It does not matter. I do what is necessary."

"As I do!" There was a snarl in his voice.

What did he mean by that, she wondered. She turned and the look she saw on his face made her stomach knot itself. His teeth were bared and his eyes were narrowed to glowing slits.

Now she had to hear him say it. "Did you kill that boy?"

She watched him slowly regain command of himself. Calm returned to the hard, tan features. His eyes held hers, and their color seemed to change from white-hot to the cold gray of iron.

"Of course."

She felt something break inside her. Grief overwhelmed her. She mourned for the young Frenchman. She did not know the man David had killed, but she imagined him to be just like Simon. She wept for him and for Simon.

And for David. She did not want to cry, but she could not help herself.

She walked slowly to her bed and sat down heavily. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks.

"Why did you kill him?"

"I had to leave Tilia's. I made the mistake of coming back here. From across the street I saw de Gobignon in this window." His voice was tight, his words clipped, as if he were trying to hold something in. "At the same time, the Frank, who was on watch, saw me. If I had allowed him to live, de Gobignon would have known that I approved of his being with you. And he was no boy, but a knight, strong and trained."

"He could have been no match for you."

"I gave him no chance to match himself against me. This is not some tournament. Your life is in as much danger as mine is."

"I never forget that," she said.

David had killed Simon's friend. She wished that she had gone to bed with Simon.

"Do you think de Gobignon will now be afraid to try to see you again?"

There was a sneer in David's voice, and she felt the heated blood rising to her face.

"He is no coward."

He looked at her with weary eyes and a tight little smile. "Well, then.