Disclaimer: the same as in Chapter 1.
Chapter 9(Balian's POW)
(I am walking on an interminable grassy field alongside my father, who was using his huge cloak to shelter us both from the tempest. Winds are threatening to blow our clothes off our bodies and the rain is pouring down, yet we didn't care as we were together. My father is keeping his cloak above our heads and I cannot stop smiling as I look at his face. This man is my father, MY father, Godfrey of Ibelin! I have finally found the man who gave me life!
We keep on walking side-by-side, and out of impulse I dare circling his waist with my arm to be closer to him. My other arm wraps itself around Godfrey's belly and I give him a quick hug. I don't know how my father, a lord, will react about this sudden show of affection. He looks surprised but the next moment, I have my father's arm around my shoulders in a tight lock.
"My Balian" says Godfrey, and those words give me a warm feeling, like a flower blooming in my heart. I have never felt anything like this before, still I know I had missed it all my life.
The winds are getting worse and it is raining so hard I can barely see the outlines of Godfrey's face now. All of a sudden, I feel a sharp pain and my hand clutches my side. I try to call out to my father but I get entangled with the protective cloak like a ship's sails during a raging storm. I remember my shipwreck, the terror among the passengers, my thoughts about disappearing in a watery grave, unmourned and forgotten.
"Father!"
After a furious struggle I managed to get my head out of the fabric, which is now protecting only myself. The sky is darker than Hell and I am alone, hugging Godfrey's cloak to me like a lifeline and the rain is falling in my face, mixing itself with my tears.
"Father! Father!" I cry desperately, but I know Godfrey is dead. He died in a chapel at Messina right after my knighting, with barely the time to acknowledge me officially as his son and heir. Godfrey is dead but I want to see him again!
Nature rages around me and I have nothing to protect me with, except Godfrey's cloak. I wrap myself with it as I know I have to keep on going if I want to escape this tempest and reach safety.
Brokenhearted, I start to walk the path on my own… when I hear Godfrey's voice, telling me: "Reach out for the sun, Balian!"
I turn around furiously, hoping to see Godfrey once again. But there is nothing to see except dark skies, pouring rain… and rays of sunshine breaking through the stormy clouds! I smile as I take my hand out of the cloak, reaching for the sun. The light is getting brighter and brighter, I know I can do it! I can achieve this goal, I can walk into the sunlight, and I can….)
My heart is thudding furiously against my ribs as I wake up, just to be half-blinded by the sunlight. I close my eyes in a reflex while thinking that maybe trying to reach out the sun wasn't such a good idea. But why did Godfrey tell me to do so? What was so important to be seen? Does it have a relation with the pain I am feeling right now?
My eyes are opening again and this time, looking at the light is less difficult. The shooting pains I feel on my right side hurt much more! My vision readjusts itself quickly and I can see I am lying beneath a dark-colored tent, just like the time I woke up after being wounded at my lord's wars in France. But something isn't right. There are embroidered cushions under my head; as I painfully push down the soft blankets covering me, I can see the wound on my side has been wrapped in white, clean linens instead of dirty and bloody ones. This is the strangest surgeon's tent I have ever been in!
"Ah, Ibelin! Are you feeling better?"
Startled, I turn my head toward the voice and I cannot believe my eyes: the Saracen knight who spared my life at the battle of Kerak is at my bedside!
I try to move, to reach out to him to make sure he wasn't a dream but that simple effort exhausts me. He puts his hand on my brow to feel for a temperature and this contact tells me the man is very real.
"No, stay still, Ibelin!" he says. "The fever has broken but you took a nasty wound, moving too quickly will only end up in pulling the stitches. You will need to stay put and keep your strength until the physicians allow you to get up. But worry not, they are confident you will recover."
"Is it really you?"
The Saracen gives me a kind smile, before answering: "Yes it's me, Ibelin."
"But… What are you doing in France?" I ask.
The knight's blue eyes widen in amazement, then he laughs: "France? You are not in your homeland, Ibelin! We are about a hundred miles north from Jerusalem! Don't you remember what happened to you?"
Why does he call me Ibelin?
Ibelin…
"I am Godfrey, the Baron of Ibelin."
All in a sudden, mixed memories flash into my mind: my father; the shipwreck; the leper king; Tiberias, my Ibelin lands; Guy de Lusignan; the battle of Kerak; Sybilla begging me to marry her and my refusal to provoke a civil war within Jerusalem.
The attack in the desert….
Renaud de Châtillon…
The lady!
I grab the knight's wrist in a panic, remembering the beautiful Saracen lady holding a bouquet of barley ears and surrounded by bloodthirsty Templar knights, in the shambles of her devastated camp. I try to sit up as I remember my duty to protect that lady, but the movement was too abrupt and I only manage to wince in pain!
"No, Ibelin, stay still, I'm telling you! What's wrong?"
I lay back down on the embroidered cushions as waves of pain are running through my torso. I am not used to pillows and the seductive softness is already lulling me back into sleep but I fight this dizziness, as I want to know what fate has befallen the woman.
"The lady… The barley field lady who was with me!" I have trouble forming words and I feel as weak as a newborn colt. I don't know if I am making any sense to the Saracen: maybe he'll think I am having a fever dream!
But the man seems to understand, as a glint of humor lightens his blue eyes: "Is she the one who gave you this? He asks, holding out a crumpled barley ear in his hand.
I nod, and his smile widens: "You have been clutching this weed for three days now, only a few hours did I managed to pry it from your fingers. The barley field lady, as you call her, is Princess Yasmina, sister to my Master Salah-al-Din. She told us all about the raid on her caravan and you rescuing her from Prince Arnat al-Kerak after you arrived in my lord's camp. "
"Salah-al-Din?"
"Yes, you are in his camp. But like I've said, you have nothing to worry about, Ibelin. My Master is eternally grateful to you for saving the life of his sister, and he has made known very clearly to all his men that you are his guest. I pity the fool who tries to forget his direct orders! He placed you under my protection, and I daresay I take this assignment very seriously."
"Her name is Yasmina?"
"Yes, and she calls you Mika'il. In your language it means 'Michael', like the archangel! I am Imad al-Din, by the way, the personal secretary of my lord Salah-al-Din."
Will wonders ever cease? I am currently staying in the camp of King Baldwin IV's most formidable foe, being tended to by his secretary after saving a princess' life? I have a hard time realizing all this and my current state of health isn't helping. Lord Imad rests his hand on my eyelids and effectively closes them, urging me to get more rest.
Just before falling asleep, I manage to say: "My first name is Balian…"
But I do not know if Lord Imad has heard me.