With You, I'll Be Only Sibylla
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize. It all belongs to Sir Ridley Scott, William Monahan, and History.
Chapter 8: To Offer the World
The city was cool and quiet, its inhabitants still slumbering. Balian walked with Sibylla down to the courtyard, where her servants were waiting with the horses. No one spoke. It was their master's secret, and they had no desire for anyone in the court to find out. Godfrey had entrusted Balian to them, and they would keep him safe. It was all they could do to pay their old master back for his kindness.
"God keep you, my lord," said Sibylla.
"God does not know me," replied Balian. There was a gentle smile on his lips. He stood beside her horse and cupped his hands, allowing her to place her foot on them to boost herself up into the saddle. She longed to cup his face, to kiss him there and then in the courtyard, but she could not. That would almost be signing his death warrant.
Raymond was deep in thought, as always. Sibylla was a hard woman to predict. Even he, who had watched her grow up, still did not truly understand her. At the moment, she seemed to speak about Balian all the time, praising his virtues, as if no one else knew about them. In fact, it seemed as if she was in love with him. He knew she had visited his house; that was no secret. However, what did she really want?
The Marshal paced outside the king's chamber. He could hear urgent murmurs, but he could not make out the words. It seemed as if Bishop Heraclius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, was in there with the ailing sovereign. What was that old fox trying to do? The murmuring stopped. The king had won the argument, whatever it had been about. Moments later, the patriarch emerged. He did not even deign to glance at Raymond. Perhaps he had not even seen the count; surely his mind was on more serious matters.
'Such as the ample bosom of Madame la Patriarchesse,' thought Raymond rather ungenerously. Everyone knew how keen the patriarch was when it came to sharing love, especially the unholy kind. Maybe even Godfrey could have made a better bishop than Heraclius. If the situation had not been so dire, Raymond would have laughed out loud at the thought of the rash and irreligious Godfrey as the Patriarch of the holiest city in the world. Oh yes, he could imagine Godfrey saying mass in Latin. Then he became sombre. What would he give to hear his friend and his broken Latin again?
He pushed aside the damask curtains. The Saracen physician and his assistant bowed to the count as they passed him. The physician clutched his medicine chest close to him as if it would protect him from the malice hiding in the shadows of the palace.
The king sat at his desk, swathed in bandages. His mask had been removed; here in private, there was no need to hide his ravaged face. "My lord," said Raymond. It pained him to see Baldwin like this. He had watched the boy grow up to become a man. The king had shown such potential as a child, and now all this potential was going to waste. Surely, Guy and his faction would squander away this kingdom which had cost the blood and sweat of so many men.
Baldwin glanced up with red and watery eyes. The king could see the sorrow in the Marshal's eyes. "God is calling me home, Tiberias," he said; there was not even a hint of fear in his voice. He lifted his bandaged hand. "Soon I shall be free of this corrupted flesh, but my heart is uneasy, for I can guess what will happen after my passing."
"That is what worries me, Sire," said Raymond. Baldwin indicated a low wooden chair.
"Come, sit," said the king. "What do you propose?"
"Guy cannot take control of the army," said Raymond, "and I am old; perhaps if the army was placed under the command of someone wise and trustworthy…"
"Such as he son of Godfrey?" said Baldwin. Raymond was rather taken aback by this. Surely he had not been that easy to read? Then again, Baldwin had always been intelligent and observant. "I know you favour him," the king continued. "I favour him also, and so does my sister." He gave a small laugh. "They think the world remains oblivious to their affair."
Raymond sighed. Could they be more wrong? Balian, like Godfrey, seemed incapable of subtlety. The count was more disappointed in Sibylla, however. She was an intelligent woman; didn't she know that what she was doing not only endangered herself, but also an innocent man and an entire kingdom? He had expected better of her. "If Balian was given the command of the army, we would need a legitimate reason," said the Marshal. "Traditionally, the King or the Prince Regent would be in charge of all military matters. Balian is simply a baron, and a… a young one at that."
"I believe you meant to say 'inexperienced," said Baldwin. "After all, Balian is newly arrived from France, relatively speaking, and he has been raised as a common man, while Guy is the son of a French nobleman and he has been Sibylla's husband for five years now. He seems to have the upper hand in this game. However, if Sibylla's marriage to Guy was annulled, on account of non-consummation, or treasonous activities on Guy's part…"
"Do you think it would work, Sire?" said Raymond.
"It is a possibility," said Baldwin. "However, I think you should consult both Balian and Sibylla first. I do not think that my sister would object, but Balian is another story altogether."
"Why in God's name would he say no?"
The king merely gave a small smile. Raymond of Tiberias had made the mistake of thinking that since he knew Balian's father, he would know Balian too. But Baldwin knew that Balian was not simply another Godfrey. There was something about the young baron which made him predict that he would not react to this proposal in the way which Raymond expected him to.
Sibylla reclined on a couch, holding a cup loosely in her hand, pondering her situation. Se needed to tell Raymond about her plan somehow, and let the Marshal tell her brother before it was too late to do anything. The idea that Balian might not accept the plan never crossed her mind. He loved her, and what man could resist the offer of the world?
How did one start such a conversation? Surely she could not just go to the Count of Tiberias and tell him that she wished to kill her husband and replace him with another man. She neede to give a valid reason for her actions.
"Milady," said Youmna. "The Marshal requests an audience with you."
"Oh?" said Sibylla, instantly alert. This could not just be a coincidence, could it? Was God giving her a sign? She sat up and straightened her clothes. What could she say to Raymond? "Let him wait in the sitting room," she said. "I will be there soon."
Sibylla's sitting room was artfully furnished with brocades and hangings which she had personally selected. Raymond traced his fingers over the intricate patterns of a rug of Persian make. The camel-hair was soft. No one could say that Sibylla did not have good taste, and not only in decorations, but in lovers also. 'Balian is good enough for any princess or queen,' thought Raymond. He just hoped that his reckless young friend would not get himself killed while pursuing this princess, although at the moment, it seemed as if it was the other way around.
"Lord Raymond!" The count looked around. The young prince had just run into the room, clutching a pewter knight. His tutor, William of Tyre, was nowhere to be seen. It seemed that Little Baldwin had inherited his uncle's skill of evading lessons.
"Your highness," said Raymond, bowing to the boy. He straightened immediately, and just in time to catch the child as Baldwin threw himself at him.
"I haven't seen you for a long long long time," said the child. He spoke so quickly that it took quite a bit of effort to follow his babbling. "Maman said you were very busy. Are still busy? I want to go to the Red Sea, and Maman said that once you are not busy, you can take me."
Raymond raised an eyebrow in amusement. It seemed as if Sibylla had been appeasing her over-inquisitive son with promises which she could not possibly keep. Who was she trying to fool? The child, or herself? He knew that the princess did not want her son to become acquainted with the harsh realities of his station in life, but what choice did she have? The child had to grow up. He pitied them both, mother and child. Sibylla was many things, but she was, above all, a mother, and she would try to protect her son for as long as she could, to the best of her ability.
'Your son needs another protector,' thought Raymond. 'You cannot coddle him forever, Sibylla. He is to be king.'
"Alas, your highness," said Raymond out loud. "I have many things which I still need to do. Perhaps we can talk about this later, when I have finished my work."
Baldwin gave him a doleful look. "You always have work," he said. "It's not fair. Maman won't let Lord Guy be my escort, but she goes away on her own all the time. I found out where she went that time. She went to Ibelin.Is that very far away? As far as France?"
Maybe the boy was more like his mother than Raymond had originally thought. He was certainly good at getting information. 'Please don't ask me what she did in Ibelin,' he thought.
"No," he said. "Ibelin is not as far as France, although it is many days ride from Jerusalem."
"Lord Balian comes from France, doesn't he?" said Baldwin. "And he lives in Ibelin."
"That is right," said Raymond. "How do you know Lord Balian?"
The boy showed Raymond his pewter knight. "He broke my knight, and then he fixed it. He's a nice man," he said solemnly. "Did Maman go to Ibelin to visit him? She should have taken me."
"I suppose…" began Raymond slowly.
"Lord Marshal, what a surprise," said Sibylla from the doorway. She was wrapped up in layers of sheer silk. Pearls encircled her neck. Her veil was almost transparent, negating the entire purpose of a veil. Youmna held back the curtains for her. The princess smiled. "Baldwin, why don't you go and play in the gardens with Youmna? The Lord Marshal and I have things to talk about."
Little Baldwin's face lit up. It seemed as if his mother had forgotten all about his lessons. If Master William could not find him, then he would have a free day. "Come on, Youmna," he said, running out. "Let's play knights and dragons! You be the dragon." The maid hurried to follow him.
"I shall have to reprimand him for missing his lessons later," said Sibylla.
"He is a boy," said Raymond, smiling fondly. "All boys are like that. I remember when I was young, I hated my lessons."
"What he truly needs is a father," said Sibylla. "It is a pity that William died so early."
"William of Montferrat was a good man, but perhaps not the best father," said Raymond. "He was always very impatient."
"That he was," said Sibylla. "But he would have made a better father than Guy, in any case."
"God forbid that Guy should be a father to anyone," said Raymond. "There is already one too many Guy de Lusignans."
Sibylla laughed. "Why have you come, Lord Raymond? Surely it was not to talk about trivialities such as this?"
Raymond looked around to make sure that no one was listening. He leaned in closer to Sibylla. "Guy must not become Prince Regent," he said.
"I know that," said Sibylla. "And yet, what can I do? He is my husband."
"Husbands can be changed. Eleanor of Aquitaine did it. Why can't you?"
"Who do you think should play Henry to my Eleanor?"
"I think you know exactly who, Sibylla. I doubt am the only one who has been pondering this."
A/N: Not much Balian in this one, but this is Sibylla's story after all ;) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.
Historical note: Heraclius, the patriarch of Jerusalem, really did have a mistress whom everyone nicknamed 'Madame la Patriarchesse', or 'Mrs. Bishop'.
