I’d had my choice, I’d be at my king’s side, especially here, especially now.”
“Is this so dangerous, then?” she asked in a low voice and when he nodded, she felt a chill that not even the sun’s sultry heat could vanquish. “Can you tell me why, Sir Stephen? And please, treat me as you would a man and answer me truthfully.”
“No one would ever mistake you for a man, my lady,” he said, with a surprise flash of gallantry. “But I will honor your courage with the honesty you seek. The king is attempting one of the most dangerous and difficult of military actions—landing upon an unfamiliar beach occupied by an enemy army on their own ground. Our men are not at their best, not after so much time at sea, and those skiffs and snekas offer little protection from the Cypriot crossbowmen.”
“Are you saying that they will be defeated?”
“Indeed not, my lady!” He sounded genuinely affronted. “We will prevail, for I trust in the Almighty and King Richard. But men will die this day and there will be sights not suitable for female eyes. It might be best if you and your ladies retire to the tent until the fighting is over.”
Joanna took him at his word and bade Hélène take Alicia back into the tent, much to the girl’s distress. But she did not follow, for she could not believe that an All-Merciful God would allow her brother to die before her eyes. While there was a corner of her mind that recognized the lack of logic in such a conviction, she did not let herself acknowledge it. If she stayed out on deck, she’d be assuring his safety.
Her throat closed up, though, when she saw the Cypriot galleys raise anchor, for how could the small landing craft fend off those sinister sea wolves? Stephen seemed to read her mind, for he pointed out that the first rows of their boats were filled with crossbowmen and archers. She saw that he was right, and as soon as the enemy galleys went on the attack, Richard’s arbalesters unleashed a withering fire. Joanna had often heard men claim that they’d seen the sky darken as arrows took flight, but she’d always dismissed it as hyperbole—until now. The men on the galleys were shooting back, and she watched in horror as bodies fell into the bay, the bright blue water taking on a red tinge where they splashed and sank. But the crossbowmen in the skiffs were coordinating their attacks; as men loosed their bolts, they ducked down to reload while the second row rose to take aim. The result was that arrows and bolts were smashing into the galleys in waves, one right after another, giving the men no chance to reload their own weapons. The knights on Joanna’s ship were cheering wildly now. She was slower to understand. It was not until several men jumped into the sea to evade the lethal bolts raining down upon them that she realized the galleys had been effectively taken out of the action.
For a moment she forgot that men were dying, feeling only a fierce surge of pride. “Stephen, they are winning!” Getting a more measured response from him, a “Not yet. But we will.”
There was such confusion and dismay on the beach that it was obvious its defenders had been expecting the galleys to wreak havoc with the small boats of the invading force. But when Richard’s crossbowmen and archers now turned their fire upon them, they hastily retreated to their wooden barricade and began to shoot back. Once again the sun seemed to dim behind clouds of shafted death. Even to Joanna’s untutored eye, it appeared as if the men in boats were making no progress toward shore, the skiffs wallowing in the surf. Turning toward Stephen, she saw her own apprehension mirrored on his face. Gripping the gunwale until his knuckles whitened, he leaned forward, his body rigid, and she realized that victory hung in the balance.
“Stephen, what if . . . what if they cannot land?”
“He’ll not let that happen,” he insisted, just as the knights began to shout and pump their fists in the air. Joanna squinted to see, half blinded by the glare of sun on water. One of the snekas had shot through a gap between boats, its crew straining at the oars as it headed straight for the beach. Joanna gasped, her eyes locking upon the armed and helmeted figure standing in the prow,