With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (part 16)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom of Heaven or anything else that you might recognize here. It belongs to Sir Ridley Scott, William Monahan, and history.

 

Chapter 16: Coup d’état

Guy knew that Raymond was not listening to him as he stated the reasons why he had decided to go to war — the main reason being that he was king and if he wanted to start a war then he would do so— and he did not care one little bit. Raymond of Tiberias was the past; Jerusalem had no use for an old cowardly Marshal who would rather make peace with God’s enemies than do his duty and eradicate them from the face of the earth. He had control of the army now, and he was going to use it as he pleased.

“There are some of you who might not agree with our succession,” he said, looking at each and every one of the gathered nobles. No one said anything. They all knew what had happened to Guy’s last opponent, and no one relished being left to die alone in the desert and becoming food for carrion birds. “But it is war!” continued Guy, his confidence swelling. This was what he had come to the Holy Land to do. “And I am…” Then his eye strayed in the direction of the desert, and his confidence evaporated like a puddle in the scorching eastern sun. “…the king,” he finished, and he knew he sounded pathetic, but no one was paying him much attention.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (part 15)

Disclaimer: The plot and characters of Kingdom of Heaven belongs to Sir Ridley Scott, William Monahan, and history. I don’t own anything.

 

Chapter 15: What Have I Done?

 

She was alone in the crypt with her son, save for the echoes and bitter memories of brighter days. In her hand, she held a pewter knight. It had been Baldwin’s favourite toy. She was still mouthing the words to the song she had been singing when he had fallen asleep forever. Sibylla felt dry, as if all her tears had been drained from her. The grief, however, had not lessened, nor had the guilt. Had she done the right thing? She was almost certain that it had been more merciful to send her son to God peacefully and painlessly, but doubt was still gnawing at her heart. At the back of her mind, there was a small voice calling her a murderer.

 

Sibylla vaguely remembered going out of the crypt and being dressed in the royal robes of a queen. She was queen? That didn’t sound right. But she was, and that…made Guy the King of Jerusalem. She stiffened. How had it come to this? She had killed her son, and her kingdom. Balian had been right; she could not hold the kingdom in peace, and there would be war. Even now, she was certain that Reynald and Guy were busy spilling blood and preparing for a confrontation with Saladin. And the kingdom was in its death throes like a beast, felled by disease and now attacked by the spears and arrows of hunters.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (part 13)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you recognize. The characters and the plot of Kingdom of Heaven belong to Sir Ridley Scott and William Monahan, and History.

 

Chapter 13: Why?

 

Rumbling drunken snores penetrated the darkness. Sibylla lay wide awake, staring at the canopy above her. The sweaty sheets were twisted around her body, hiding her shame and nakedness. Beside her, Guy snorted and then rolled over so that his back was turned to her. That was better, but only just. Her body still hurt from his brutish touches, and she knew she would find bruises blossoming on her pale skin the next morning. It hadn’t been like this with Balian.

 

A lump grew in her throat as she remembered the tender touches of her gentle knight. Every caress had spoken of love. She supposed that she would never feel those caresses again. He had rejected her, and hurt her pride in every way possible. She had expected him to return to his little fief at Ibelin and stay there, becoming just another baron who regarded her with cold distant courtesy. Why he was still in Jerusalem was a mystery, for he never showed his face at court, probably because he was loathe to see her. Perhaps he was still here because he had business to settle before he could go back to Ibelin? That was the only rational explanation. However, in her heart, there was a little voice whispering to her, telling her that he was here because even though he did not want to see her, he was even more reluctant to leave her.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (part 12)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or the storyline. This is just my interpretation of Sir Ridley Scott’s film, Kingdom of Heaven.

 

Chapter 12: Price of Power

Sibylla’s mind was reeling with all the changes. There was so much she had to do, but she was not ready to deal with the affairs of state yet. First, there was her brother’s funeral. Simply thinking about Baldwin’s death made her want to weep again, but she knew she couldn’t. She was the greatest authority in the kingdom now, as the mother of the uncrowned king, and she had to be strong; stronger than the foundations of Jerusalem itself.

 

Outside her window, the sky blue standards of the kingdom fluttered against a pale grey sky. The sun, usually blazing brightly down on the Holy Land, was nowhere to be seen. The princess could not help but feel as if God had turned away from her and the kingdom.

 

‘You mustn’t think like that,’ she told herself. There was no time for morbid thoughts. She had to prepare for her brother’s funeral and for her son’s coronation.

 

“Youmna!’ she called. The maid came in and curtseyed.

 

“Milady?” she said.

 

“Send for the Lord Marshal,” said the princess. “I must consult him about matters concerning the coronation.”

 

“As you wish, milady,” said Youmna. As she dipped another curtsey, she glanced up at Sibylla. The maid had never seen her so haggard, as if she had not slept well for many nights. Underneath the face powder, her complexion was pale and she seemed almost translucent, as if she was fading away from exhaustion. The maid opened her mouth, and then hesitated. Sibylla was a princess, and she was only a handmaiden. What right did a handmaiden have to tell a princess what to do? However, Youmna knew that it was her duty to serve her mistress’ best interests. “Milady, perhaps you should rest for a while,” she ventured.

 

Sibylla sighed. “I cannot rest, Youmna,” she said. “There is too much to do.”

 

“You cannot work if you are half-alive, milady,” said the maid, more firmly this time. At least Sibylla had not snapped at her; that was a good sign.

 

“Very well. Send of the Lord Marshal. I shall rest after I have seen him.”

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (Part 8)

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.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (Part 3)

Disclaimer: This is based on Sir Ridley Scott’s brilliant film, Kingdom of Heaven. I’m just borrowing the characters and the main plot, and I get no profit, only enjoyment

Chapter 3: A Few Yards of Silk

Sibylla opened the door to the inner chamber just a little bit so that she could see her son. The boy had his back to the door. He sat amongst cushions, talking to himself as he moved his pewter soldiers around and fought imaginary battles. Arabic words were scattered through his speech. Love filled her. It hadn’t seemed so long since he’d been a tiny helpless baby in her arms. She stepped in as quietly as possible, so as to not disturb him, but her long silken dress got caught on one of his toys. Little Baldwin looked up when he heard his mother come in. He grinned and ran into her open arms. “Maman!” he said. “I thought you were dining with the lords.”

With you, I’ll be only Sibylla (Part 1)

Disclaimer: This is based on Sir Ridley Scott’s brilliant film, Kingdom of Heaven. I don’t own any of the characters.

Summary: The account of the end of the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem, as seen from the point of view of the most important woman in the kingdom, Princess Sibylla of Jerusalem.

Chapter 1: Meeting the Baron

The hooves of her horse thundered beneath her. She could feel the animal’s powerful muscles bunching up. For a moment, she was free, one with the wind. Jerusalem loomed in the distance. Sibylla was reluctant to return. She had not had enough of her freedom, even if it was fleeting and pretensive. Her thoughts wandered back to the days when she’d been a naive girl; a stranger to the bitterness of this world. Oh, she’d been disappointed when her father had married her off to William de Montferrat, a man three times her age. Like any maid, she’d dreamed of a romantic marriage with a handsome young man who would love her and cherish her. William had been kind, but she’d viewed him as more of an uncle than a husband. And then, he’d died, leaving her five months pregnant with the potential heir to the throne.