Crossing Boundaries

Chapter 1: It All Began with a Ball...


Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. I loved the movie Kingdom of Heaven, so let's face it, it's not all going to be historically accurate, though I will try. Please don't sue.

Author's Note: Another one of those stories that I found on a CD and, upon re-reading, loved it and wanted to share it. I have the first chapter written, but then the next is way into the storyline. Thank God for outlines. Enjoy and review.


For as long as I could remember, I have followed the "Golden Rule" - Treat others as you would like to be treated. However, as much as those older and wiser than I have preached this, they never truly practice their moral lessons. I wanted to change this and I, being the son of a king, was within the rankings of society to do so. Therefore, when I met Constance as a child, it was easy for me to accept her for who she was, ignoring the low class she belonged to.

It was the middle of a hot summer's day in June of 1167. The location was that of Jerusalem, the holiest city in all the Middle East and home to Baldwin IV, future king. He had woken to the pleasant surroundings of his bedroom in the royal palace, a servant already preparing his morning bath.

Sniffing at the air, he smelt the delicate scent of vanilla wafting from his bath, drawing him to it. Baldwin stepped from his bed, letting the cover fall to the ground where another servant hastily picked it up; he stripped of his clothing and lowered himself into the awaiting bath.

Baldwin was a mere six-years-old and already a striking boy for his age. Wavy dirty-blonde hair framed his thin face, bringing out the striking blue eyes that held wisdom beyond their years. Everyone in the palace knew of the wit and intelligence of the young prince and even still were astounded by the phrases and philosophies that would flow from his mouth. Some attribute this to his tutor, William of Tyre. Others say it was a gift from God. Others still say it was obviously from his parents, who were both sharp. Whether it was the tutor, God, or his parents, no one knew or truly cared for they were all deeply in love with the prince. Through the years, it was clear that, one day, Baldwin would be a wise, gentle, and caring king for Jerusalem.

After bathing and dressing in his Sunday clothing - church would begin shortly and he could not miss Mass - Baldwin allowed a servant to comb his hair while he fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves. Sighing with impatience, Baldwin jumped from his seat as soon as the brush was laid down on the vanity and fled to his father's room where the kindly king greeted his son with exuberance.

"And how is my young prince today?" Amalric asked his son, bending down to pick up Baldwin and toss him the air. Baldwin laughed in amusement before his father put him back on the ground, gasping for air from the activity.

"I am fine, father." Baldwin grabbed his father's hand and led him out the door. "We must go to church. It is going to begin soon."

"Ah, yes. Mass."

Amalric smiled down at the small boy leading him to the chapel. The king was pleased that his son had taken to his religion and faith as much as he had. Although Amalric occasionally gave into temptations, such as the pleasures of a woman in bed, he attended Mass every day and prayed whenever he had the free time. However, his son possessed an excitement and love for God and faith more so than even him.

And so the day passed. After Mass, Amalric left his son in the care of a maid before attending to a conflict between two noblemen. Baldwin was saddened that he would not be able to play with his father, a routine they had for Sundays, but found other ways to preoccupy himself until dinner later than evening.

Baldwin had rarely left the palace to visit the colorful city outside the walls. The few times he had, Baldwin had taken in the sights of everything around him. The mixture of people around him, ranging from the white, Christian nobles to the dark-skinned Muslims to the black slaves who were selling their master's wares in the streets. The various banners hanging from buildings, announcing their purpose. The houses towering over him, some looking as if at any moment they would crack and come crashing down. The sand whipping through the air, occasionally blown into his eyes when he would have to rub them until he cried the bits out. The blazing sun, uncovered by any clouds. How Baldwin would long for the days when he could return to the city. Because of this lack of outside presence, he would often spend his days in his private garden, listening to the townspeople stirring outside the walls.

However, on this day, Baldwin had a visitor from the outside, a small girl about a year younger than him. Her name was Constance and she would forever change her life.

Constance was a thin, petite girl with dark chocolate hair that fell in ringlets to the swell of her back; however, it was usually braided into single piece and then twisted into a small bun on the back of her head, which was then covered by a headscarf to allow her to complete her chores more easily. Adding to her features was a small nose, slightly fat through the bridge, full lips that were somewhat pale, and meaningful, almond-shaped, and rich brown eyes. She also possessed the typical characteristics of the lower-class citizens – rough hands from tending to the field and other chores, dirty feet from the lack of shoes, freckled brown skin from the countless hours in the sun, and a worn look in her eyes.

Sunday was the one day that Constance had to herself, to enjoy as a child, so she would bask in the glories of childhood, playing ball with the others, fighting with boys if the need arose, and trying to mimic the noblewomen in their elegant gowns. She usually found herself outside the palace walls, playing with some sort of shapeless bag that she and the other children would kick around for fun. Sometimes, the boys would fight over who got the ball first and that the girls should not be playing with them, but they were always quickly over and the fun would resume.

On this fateful day, one of the boys had gotten angry at another and for his revenge, had kicked the ball as hard as he could at the other boy. This other boy reacted in the best way he could, throwing his hands up and tossing the ball into the air and over the palace walls. All the children moaned as they would now have to find a new ball, but Constance would have none of this.

"Why don't we get the ball?"

The boy who had thrown the ball over looked at Constance as if he had never met her. "Are you crazy, Constance? Do you know what walls these are?"

Constance placed her hands on her hips and glared at the boy, insulted by his comment. "Of course I do. But really, who's going to be over there? They would've said something by now if they'd gotten hit by it."

"None of us are going over that wall. The penalty is death." This time, it was a girl, and she was positively shaking in fear.

Constance rolled her eyes. "They won't execute a child."

This time the boy who had thrown the ball over the wall in the first place answered. "You don't think so?"

Constance was growing more and more agitated by the other children and was being to breathe deeper to cool her anger. "No, I don't think so."

"Then why don't you go get it!"

"I will!"

And with that, Constance turned to the palace wall and began to search for a patch to climb. After attempting the climb a few times, Constance was able to find a section and scrambled up the wall. She perched herself on the top of it, waved to her friends, and made her way down the other side.

Constance found herself in a small alcove, the private garden of Baldwin that his father had gifted to him for his lessons and free time. The walls were lined with small trees that barely reached the top, all of them covered in small leaves. Outside of this ring, there were pebbled walkways that led to the center of the garden where a gazebo had been built. Inside the gazebo, which was draped in vines and white flowers, there was a wooden table and chairs as well as a stone chessboard. Surrounding the gazebo and moving out along the paths were flowerbeds, filled with every type of flower imaginable, from ruby garland chrysanthemums to golden anemones to violet pheasant's eyes.

After taking the beautiful scene in, Constance began to search around the wall to find her missing ball. She was hunched over, hands wildly searching, sweat pouring down her face from both fear of discovery and the hot sun, when her hand brushed over the ball. Reaching back out to grab it, Constance was startled to discover that another's hand was around it and ready to pick it up.

Letting out a small squeak and launching herself further into the bushes, hoping to hide herself, she heard a soft chuckle come from the person who was now in possession of her ball, tossing it up and down in his hand. Constance knew instantly who the boy was, his blonde hair and blue eyes along with the elegant robes he wore were tell-tale signs of his royalty.

"Is this your ball?" he asked, stepping closer to her hiding spot. She did not answer, so he continued. "I found it when I heard a strange noise coming from the wall." He paused and still Constance did not answer. "Do you want your ball or not?"

Here, Constance threw herself onto the ground at the boy's feet, begging for forgiveness while pleading for him to not have her executed, that she was just a young foolish girl who had wanted to get her ball back. The boy hung his head, letting the ball drop to the ground.

"You know who I am then?"

Constance looked up, confusion in her eyes, as the boy stared up at the tops of the wall, hurt written all over his face.

"Of course, I do, your Majesty. You are Prince Baldwin IV, future king of Jerusalem." Here she stopped and whispered under her breath. "Any fool would know that."

Before she knew what was happening, she was on her back, Baldwin pinning her down. Constance began to struggle and kick like she did when the other children would wrestle together. Baldwin, however, was much stronger than the other boys she had fought with.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Here he raised himself up, the lower portion of his body still pinning her to the ground, his hands holding hers above her head. "Because I am not. I just wanted to know if the ball was yours and if you wanted to play a game." Confusion was clearly shown on Constance's face for he continued without her ever opening her mouth. "Just go back over the wall and forget you ever saw me. I will find another child to play with since you are clearly terrified of me."

Constance shook her head, her mouth slightly opened in realization that the young prince simply wanted to play a game, and Baldwin released her arms, standing up and giving her room to do the same. She did so, but wrapped him up in her arms, hugging him in the way only a child can to another.

"If you want, your Majesty, I can come when I don't have any chores. I can play with you."

Baldwin smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness and excited that he would now have a friend his own age. He returned the hug gratefully, putting all of his happiness into it. When they broke apart, Baldwin walked over to the ball, which had been kicked farther away during their scuffle, and handed it to Constance.

"You should leave. I am sure someone heard the noise we made and I would not want you to get in trouble."

"Okay." Constance took the ball, rolling it in her hands before tossing it over the wall. She followed the ball, using a nearby tree to help her climb up the wall. When she reached the top, Baldwin called up to her.

"I do not know your name."

"Constance."

With that, she scaled down the other side of the wall, picking up the ball and running back home to her family. Baldwin's face lit up and he continued to stare at the wall, willing her to come back and play a game with him. His thoughts, however, were interrupted by the calls of his tutor.

"Baldwin! Baldwin! 'Tis time for your lessons."

Baldwin continued to beam, a silly grin on his face, and as he walked towards the palace and his tutor, a name slipped from his lips.

"Constance."

God must have been smiling down on me that day for Constance has brought me such joy into my life. I do not know where I would be or who I would be today if it was not for her strength and compassion.


Author's Note: Nothing amazing but I like it. Hope you enjoyed.