He'd joined the crusade for one reason only, to break the curse of their childlessness, but he'd never dreamed that Christ's reward would be so prompt. That generosity, however, had bound Galeran as if with iron chains. How could he flinch from the task of liberating the Holy City when God had granted his boon so quickly and so perfectly?
Through all the hardship and disillusion, sickened by what he saw around him and longing to be home, Galeran had held to his vow. Because of that miracle - a child for Jehanne - he had fought on till the bitter, triumphant end, till the forces of Christendom had entered Jerusalem.
As always, that memory seized him, froze him with a vision of blood, rivers of blood, and the screaming mouths of men, women, and children. ...
He shook his head. That was long past and over, and soon he would have his rewards - his son in his arms, and his wife content at last.
He wished he'd had more news, so he would have a better picture in his mind of the child. The last letter to reach him had been written when the babe was three months old. Jehanne had recounted a screed of description and clever doings, but that chubby babe was gone now, and presumably smiling was no longer a matter of pride. The bald head Jehanne had lamented would be covered with hair. Dark like his own? Or pale, silky blond like his mother's?
Which?
It seemed a father should know.
That letter had arrived just as Galeran was riding off to help liberate Bethlehem, and when he had knelt on the ground of Christ's birthplace he had been guiltily aware that his joy at being there was largely because they were close to Jerusalem. Within days they would see the walls of the Holy City. With God's help they would quickly take it, and Galeran's vow would be satisfied.
He could return home.
From the moment of taking sail, all he had wanted was to be home.
Gallot had Galeran's brown eyes. That had been fixed at three months.
With luck, he'd inherited his father's darker skin as well or he'd never be able to take the cross. Jehanne's delicate pallor would have blistered to a crisp in Outremer, as many northern complexions had.
Gallot wouldn't be big unless he threw back to the grandparents. Jehanne's father had been a tall man, and Galeran's father was a great bear of a man, a fearsome warrior in his day. All his sons had taken after him except Galeran.
A light build was a disadvantage in a fighting man, but training could compensate, as Galeran had proved. Anyway, smaller men were often more agile, and big, fleshy men had perished more quickly in the heat and privation of the crusade than the sinewy ones. . . .
"You can't live on dreams, you know."
Galeran turned to see Raoul offering a mutton pie. "Eat. Your lovely wife won't welcome a scarecrow." Raoul was one of the big men, but hard with muscle and seemingly able to survive anything, appetites and good humor intact.
"She'll welcome me in any form," Galeran said, but when he bit into the cold pie he realized he was hungry. And he might need his strength.
He hoped he would need his strength.
Tonight.
At the thought of the night and a bed and Jehanne, a ripple of painful desire shot through him to land predictably in his cock and harden it.
"How close are we?" Raoul shot a long stream of wine into his mouth from a wineskin, then passed it over.
Galeran tilted the skin and drank, subduing his lust, as he had done a thousand times before. "Less than ten leagues. With God's blessing we should arrive before dark."
Raoul grinned. "With your impatience, we'll push on even if darkness falls.
Not that I blame you. If I'd taken a vow of fidelity and was within sniffing distance of my wife, nothing would stop me either."
"The very thought of you taking a vow of fidelity makes my head ache, my friend. Perhaps interest in carnal matters fades after time."
"Does it?"
Galeran laughed. "No."
"Didn't think so. So, let's press on. We don't want you to explode." He bellowed to the men to prepare the horses.
Still smiling, Galeran took time to finish the pie, grateful to have Raoul by his side. His friend was by no means stupid, but he had an uncomplicated view of life. He fought fiercely when he had to, but then put it out of his head Galeran fought