behind the human cost of the miscalculation and mistrust between enemies, twenty-six hundred men bound in ropes and drenched in their own blood.
RICHARD AND HIS KNIGHTS stopped at the city’s public baths to wash off the blood and soak their aching bodies in hot water before continuing on to the citadel. Richard was in no hurry to reach the palace, for he did not know what sort of reception he’d get from Berengaria. He thought Joanna would understand why the killings were necessary, as he was sure their mother would have understood. But he knew many women were skittish about bloodshed, and his sheltered wife was more tenderhearted than most. In the aftermath of battle, his blood was usually still racing, for the intoxication of danger was often more potent than the strongest of wines. Tonight, though, he felt only exhaustion and a dulled, dispirited anger that it should have come to this. He was in no mood to justify his actions, and by the time he strode into the great hall, he was already on the defensive.
Nothing went as he’d expected, though. Berengaria was not even there, having gone to attend Vespers at Holy Cross Cathedral. Joanna had not accompanied her sister-in-law, but she seemed oddly subdued, a reticent, silent stranger instead of the supportive sister he’d hoped to find. One of her ladies-in-waiting, the Sicilian Saracen whose name he could never recall, fled the hall as soon as he entered, casting him a burning glance over her shoulder. And the newly elected Bishop of Acre, whom he’d invited to stay at the palace, offered to absolve him of his sins, which he took as an implied criticism of the day’s executions. Instead of having a meal in the great hall, he headed for his bedchamber, his squires in tow.
Once Jehan and Saer had removed his hauberk, he finally felt able to draw an unconstricted breath. He was too tired to wonder why the weight of his armor, practically a second skin, should have seemed so heavy tonight. He was usually too impatient to wait while they disarmed him, but now he let them do all the work, remaining immobile as they took off the padded gambeson he’d worn under his hauberk; his legs were already bare for he’d not replaced his mail chausses at the baths. Handing his scabbard and sword to the boys, he was giving them unnecessary instructions about cleaning the blood from the blade when the door burst open and his wife rushed in. Flushed and out of breath, she started to apologize for not having been there when he arrived, but stopped when she realized that he was not really listening to her.
His squires read his moods better than Berengaria, and departed in such haste that they forgot to take his hauberk for cleaning. Finding a towel, Richard sat on the bed and began to rub his thinning hair, still damp from the baths. She hovered beside him uncertainly, at last asking if he was hungry. She was stunned when he lashed out without warning, saying he was surprised she did not want him to fast as penance for his many sins.
“Why would I want that?”
“Why do you think?” he snapped, discovering that there was a relief in finding a target for his unfocused rage. “I know you think what I did today was monstrous. At least have the courage to admit it!”
“Are you a soothsayer now, able to read minds?” she snapped back, and he looked up in surprise, for he’d never seen her lose her temper before. “I do not know why you are seeking to quarrel with me, Richard, but it is manifestly unfair to blame me for something I neither thought nor said!”
“So what are you saying, then?” he said skeptically. “That you are proud of me for this day’s work?”
“No, I can take no pride or pleasure in what you call ‘this day’s work.’ Any more than you can. But it would never occur to me to find fault with you over it, for why would I presume to contradict you about a military matter? You know war as I do not, Richard. If you say this had to be done, that is enough for me.”
“It did have to be done. Nor do I regret it, for I could see no other way.”
“Then you have no reason for regret,” she said quietly, and he reached out, catching her wrist and drawing her toward him. Taking that gesture as the