12. Consequences

Balian wondered around the residence that was once again his, remembering the times past when Sybilla had been there with him. He looked forward to showing his daughters around. As he entered the courtyard he remembered the first time he met Sybilla, when she had thundered into the courtyard and demanded a drink. Balian smiled at the memory until another horse and rider thundered into the courtyard. A messenger, Balian realised as a servant walked up to the rider. After handing over his missive, the rider disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. The missive was short and enraged Balian more so than when he learned his first wife had been beheaded before her burial.
"My horse!" Balian shouted at no one in particular as he reread the missive again and again.

Lord Balian,
The lady Kalare has expressed her desire to learn more of the land and people she will rule. Thus we have decided to travel these lands before we are wedded and crowned.
Lord Emir

It had been a long time since Balian had done anything without thought of the consequences. Long before such a cautioning thought came to him Balian reached the palace and stormed through it in search of the sultan. He was in consultation with his advisors when Balian loudly entered the room.
"If there is a single hair on her head out of place when I find them, I will end his life."
Seconds if not minutes of silence passed before Saladin replied.
"Whom do you speak of, lord Balian?"
Balian knew Saladin well enough to know he would not play the fool. "You have not yet heard?" he asked, surprised he had learned before the sultan.
Before Saladin could answer a servant entered the room with a message for the sultan. As he read the message understanding crossed his face.
"I agree, we must find them. Though it will have to be done quietly, for if the people know who we are searching for and why the danger increases exponentially."
Saladin's advisors remained silent though they all listened with rapt attention.
"Has he given you an indication of their route or destination? If not, finding them quietly will be near impossible," Balian replied.
Saladin's expression answered Balian's question. Before they could consider how to undertake the search another servant entered, this time with a message for Balian.
"A messenger awaits you at your residence, he refuses to deliver the message to
"He refuses," Balian replied loudly, appalled at the messengers manners. The servant bowed deeply as he confirmed the question. Balian turned back to Saladin to excuse himelf. Yet an account of the matter was enough to move Saladin to join Balian at his residence.

The men thundered into the courtyard. Balian stormed into the house before the other men could even dismount their horses. He found the messenger waiting in his reception room.
"Produce your message," Balian demanded angrily not caring about social manners while his daughter was missing.
Before the messenger could reply Saladin entered the room causing the messenger to turn ashen.
"Nephew, what brings you here?" Saladin asked of Tamir. For it was Lord Kadir's younger son who now bowed before them.
Though Tamir had not expected to see the sultan, he quickly regained his voice. "I bring a message of the lady Kalare for my lord Balian," he replied before handing the message over. Balian tore open the seal to read it.

Beloved father,
I trust you are well. I have learned all I could about his land and its people from lord Kadir's library. There are many things I still wish to know before my wedding. Lord Emir has kindly agreed to be my guide on a journey through these lands. I expect you will not approve of this journey for it is your instinct to fear for my safety. We do not ask your permission. Yet I
ssfkwould ask for your trust in me and lord Emir. When we end our journey in Jerusalem I am certain we shall find ourselves surrounded by guards and will never again experience the freedom of the road. We will be in the city before my sisters arrive. If you do not trust us now, how will the people ever be able to trust us as their king and queen?
Your most loving daughter
Kalare

"They ask for freedom and trust," Balian said before handing the message to Saladin.
As he finished reading Saladin did not look pleased. "Perhaps they are too young for the roles they are to play."
"Or they fully understand their roles," lord Imad replied, having read the note next. "To know the people, to understand them and their needs could be beneficial if not life saving. Only time will tell what the consequences of their actions will be."

Emir was not alone in his enjoyment of the freedom the open road provided. Though she had not been aware of it at the time, a gravity had settled on Kalare's shoulders while she remained at lord Kadir's estate. Her every move and spoken word had been observed there. The consequences of every action had had to be considered before acting.
A few hours on the road had been enough to release the weight from Kalare's shoulders. They had been riding North and had found their way to Ibelin.
"Do you wish to see it?" Emir asked.
"I do, though I would not want to trouble to baron."
"He is in Jerusalem," Emir smiled a smile Kalare had started to recognise. He knew something she did not.
"Is it a secret or a surprise?" Kalare asked, surprising Emir with her insight.
"Your father has been reinstated as Baron of Ibelin."
Pure joy radiated from Kalare as she realised the estate would once again be part of her family history, it was after all where her parents had truly found each other.
"Come," Emir said, "I will introduce you to your people."
Side by side they rode up to the main house, where they were greeted by an old man who looked at Kalare once then never raised his eyes to her again. He spoke quietly to Emir in Arabic, which Kalare was not yet fluent in, before he rushed back into the house. Surprised by this behaviour Kalare turned to Emir.
"He once welcomed your mother here. He does not consider himself worthy to look upon a queen or her daughter," Emir explained.
"Perhaps we should not have come here. It is likely they will send word of our arrival to Jerusalem."
"We shall not stay long. Yet we must eat, for we have some way to travel today," Emir replied as he dismounted.

Emir's words proofed true. The sun had nearly set when they reached the location Emir had chosen for their first night on the road. It was the home of a knight who resided in the city while Saladin was there. As nephew to the sultan no servant would deny Emir hospitality.
The journey to the Sea of Galilee took them two weeks as they crisscrossed across the land so that Kalare could meet people and see the countryside. From knights to nomads, Emir knew men from all walks of life. Few questioned why they rode together through the desert, yet all were told the same. That Saladin had ordered Emir to introduce Kalare to her mother's land as a favour to Balian.

They were less than a days' ride from their goal, the fortress of Tiberias on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, when Kalare was forced to remember what had brought her there. That travelling through the desert was not something one did lightly, it was dangerous.
That night they were welcomed by a bedouin goum and much of the evening had been spend by the fire under the stars.
Kalare woke, startled as someone's hand had taken hold of her ankle.
"Wake up!" it was Emir. "Where is your sword?"
Kalare reached above her head where her pack and sword lay within reach. Her hand closed around the hilt of her sword and she drew it from its scabbard as she rose from the makeshift bed.
"What has happened?"
"The camp is under attack," Emir replied before he stepped out of the tent.
A fleeting thought passed through Kalare's mind of the appropriateness of fighting in her shift before she quickly decided that clothing was the least of her worries. She knew an actual battle was nothing like her training sessions and she was right.
It was no beautiful dance nor was it heroic. It was horrible. Shouts and screams were overlain with clanging metal and the twang of arrows.
Outside the tent Emir had engaged with two attackers, keeping them away from the tent, away from Kalare. When a third man attacked Emir from behind, Kalare's training took over. She could not, would not stand idly by while others fought to protect her. Stepping forward she raised her sword and caught the blow aimed for Emir. Its impact stunned her arm yet her appearance surprised the attacker enough to give Kalare time to swing her sword at his sword arm nearly severing it. Adrenalin allowed her to ignore the spray of blood and keep going.

Her training kept Kalare alive, though someone had aimed a successful stroke at her legs which left her with a deep, heavily bleeding cut on her thigh. When it was over Emir, too, was covered in blood, though his greater skill explained why none of it was his own.
Kalare's sword remained raised when Emir approached her. The adrenalin, that had allowed her to stay on her feet despite the carnage that surrounded her, continued to course through her veins as her body refused to believe it was over.
He approached her carefully. He remembered full well the first time he had to draw his sword outside of training, the first time he had take someone's life.
"My lady," his words were soft. He had left his own sword behind in the hope she would recognise him to not be a threat. His words had drawn her eyes to his. "It is over, you can let go now," Emir continued as he moved closer.
"I... I cannot," Kalare stammered.
"Yes, you can," he replied as his hand covered her sword hand.
Slowly he forced her arm down and helped her to let go of her sword. As her hand released its hold the tension dissipated from her body and Kalare stumbled as her free hand reached for the cut on her leg. Gently Emir lifted Kalare of her feet and carried her away from the bodies that surrounded them.
Kalare had never felt such pain as her father and his men had never even scratched her skin during training. Emir placed Kalare on the ground by a roaring fire. Kalare noticed little besides the pain, yet she caught some of the Arabic Emir spoke to their hosts. Water, woman, sowing.
Emir had torn her shift up to the cut on her leg, the sight of the wound caused Kalare to release a chilling scream. Yet Emir knew Kalare's pain would become worse before it could become better. One of the women from the camp stitched Kalare's skin back together as carefully as she could while Emir cradled her torso and kept her from looking at her leg. Though many more screams left Kalare's throat during this time, it was that first scream that Emir would remember forever. It had chilled him to the bone.
As the woman finished her stitches Kalare lost consciousness.


AN: I could give you a bunch of excuses for taking so long to update but I just got stuck and it took me a long time to figure out how to get unstuck.
I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter though. Still not giving up on this story.