An enraged and grieving queen commands them to retrieve her exquisite
jewel and abandon their foundling brat overseas—or never return.
Robert FitzStephan and his wife, Noor, have been temporarily exiled.
Officially, they are to travel to the courts of Aragon and Castile as
emissaries of Queen Eleanor of England. Unofficially, the queen demands two
things: that they abandon Lionel, their foster son, in foreign lands and that
they bring back a precious jewel – the Castilian Pomegranate.
Noor would rather chop off a foot than leave Lionel in a foreign
land—especially as he’s been entrusted to her by his dead
father, the last true Prince of Wales. And as to the jewel, stealing it would
mean immediate execution. . .
Spain in 1285 is a complicated place. France has launched a crusade
against Aragon and soon enough Robert is embroiled in the conflict, standing
side by side with their Aragonese hosts.
Once in Castile, it is the fearsome Moors that must be fought, with
Robert facing weeks separated from his young wife, a wife who is enthralled by
the Castilian court—and a particular Castilian gallant.
Jealousy, betrayal, and a thirst for revenge plunge Noor and Robert into
life-threatening danger.
Will they emerge unscathed or will savage but beautiful Castile leave
them permanently scarred and damaged?
Trigger Warnings:
Sexual content, violence
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Excerpt
In which the proud
French are obliged to crawl at the feet of King Pedro of Aragon
Two days later, a
company of men came riding towards Pedro’s camp, a white banner flying aloft.
“If it isn’t my
favourite nephew himself,” Pedro muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the
Frenchmen. “As always, dressed to his teeth.”
Philippe was
indeed a sight for sore eyes, looking as if he’d recently emerged from a
bathhouse, not a war camp. In green and blue silk, a mantle in a darker blue
hue edged with ermine, and his long hair loose and adorned with a thin gold
circlet, he came striding towards the royal tent at such speed the fabric of
his garments billowed around him.
“Uncle,”
he began, walking towards Pedro with his arms outstretched, but he was rudely
interrupted by the man-at-arms who stepped right into his path.
“Do not come here
and claim ties of kinship,” Pedro warned, nodding at the man-at-arms to allow
Philippe to approach. “I am not your uncle. I am the righteously incensed king
come face-to-face with a would-be invader.”
To his credit,
Philippe did not argue. Instead, he bowed deeply. “I am here as a
representative of King Philippe, third of that name.” As he rose, he surveyed
the men present, his gaze snagging on Robert. “You!” he exclaimed.
In response,
Robert offered him a formal bow.
“Ah yes,” King
Pedro said. “You have already met Robert FitzStephan, emissary and trusted
captain of King Edward of England.”
Philippe blanched.
“Emissary?” His tongue darted out to lick his lips.
“Indeed,”
Pedro said drily. “I fear he will not be much impressed by how the French have
treated him.”
“I . . .
well . . . he didn’t—”
“I did,” Robert
interrupted. “I made it quite clear I was here on behalf of my king.”
Pedro tut-tutted. “Really,
Philippe, to lay hands on a man travelling with safe-conducts and abuse him so.
Foolish, I say. Very foolish.” He sat down in one of the ornate armchairs and
tucked a cushion behind his back.
The handsome lad
flushed. “I am here to talk of other matters,” he said stiffly.
“Ah yes, your
unconditional surrender,” Pedro said.
“Surrender?” Philippe
straightened up and glared at his uncle. They were remarkably alike, these two
men, with reddish-golden hair, light eyes, and cheekbones so defined it gave
them both an eerie likeness to a bird of prey. “I come to negotiate a retreat.”
Pedro’s
brows rose, but he held his tongue.
Philippe shifted
under his weighty stare. “We will leave your lands immediately.”
“I think not.”
Pedro gestured for one of his pages to serve him some more wine.
“They’re all
ailing!” Philippe exclaimed. “My father, my brother—”
“The little
usurper?” Pedro asked. “Well, well. It seems God smites some down immediately,
hey?”
“My father,”
Philippe began but had to stop when his voice broke. He took a couple of deep
breaths. “The king of France hovers at death’s door,”
he said. “A compassionate king would give him safe passage to his own lands,
away from here.”
“I did not invite
him,” Pedro said. “And I cannot help but wonder if he would have offered me the
same consideration had our roles been reversed.” He lifted his goblet, took his
time sipping at his wine. Philippe remained on his feet—after all, King Pedro
had not invited him to sit—and it clearly irked him to stand like a penitent
before his uncle, light eyes shooting daggers as the king of Aragon focused on
his beverage rather than on him. “What do you think?” Pedro asked, directing
himself to Robert.
“Me, my lord?”
“Yes. What would
your lord and king do in a situation such as this?”
“Ah.” Robert
thought about that. “Well, he would not let an invading army leave without
teaching them a lesson.”
“No, I thought as
much.” Pedro took another sip, his green eyes never leaving his nephew. “I will
grant a safe conduct for your father, your brother, and yourself. After all, we
are family—of sorts. But your men . . .” He shook his head.
“They stay.”
Philippe blinked.
Blinked again. “What is it you are saying? That we abandon our men?”
“Well, you can
always choose to stay here with them,” Pedro said. “But if you wish to leave,
you do so without them.”
“But . . .”
Philippe licked his lips. “It would dishonour us to do so.”
“Dishonour?” Pedro’s
voice rose. “I would say you dishonoured yourself the moment you set out to
steal my kingdom!” He shrugged. “Besides, as I hear it, they go to meet their
maker anyway. I will but hasten their journey.” From Philippe came something
that sounded like a croak. Pedro nodded, no more. “Oh yes, either they die of
the bloody flux or by our swords, but they will die.” He leaned forward. “And
let us not forget who is to blame for all those dead men: you, the French. The
innocents in Roussillon, my brave people of Girona and now your soldiers. They
die in pain; they die in squalor. A sign of God’s displeasure, would you not
agree?”
“God?” Philippe’s
beautiful mouth twisted. “God has nothing to do with this venture. This is a
power-hungry pope whispering seductively in the ear of a king.”
“More fool him to
listen,” Pedro said.
“Please,” Philippe
said, and to Robert’s surprise, the proud prince knelt before his uncle. “Please
let us leave. All of us.”
“No.”
Pedro stood, towering over his nephew. “I will give your father, your brother,
yourself, and a selected group of followers—three score at most—permission to
leave. But only if you swear a holy oath that France will never again raise
arms against Aragon.”
Philippe had tears
in his eyes. “Three score? But that—”
Pedro waved him
silent. “That is my only offer. Take it, or prepare to die with your ailing
men.”
The French prince
bowed his head, studying his hands intently. “I take it,” he finally said. “May
God forgive me, but I take it.” He lifted his head, and his eyes blazed. “Never
again will a French king be led by his nose by a pope. Never.”
“Sounds wise,”
Pedro said. “It is my experience the pope has more interest in expanding his
power than he has in caring for the souls of his huge flock.”
Philippe made as
if to rise, but Pedro set a hand to his shoulder. “Your oath.”
Anna Belfrage
Had Anna been allowed to choose, she’d have become a time-traveller. As
this was impossible, she became a financial professional with two absorbing
interests: history and writing. Anna has authored the acclaimed time-traveling
series The Graham Saga, set in 17th century Scotland and
Maryland, as well as the equally acclaimed medieval series The King’s
Greatest Enemy which is set in 14th century England.
Anna has also published The Wanderer, a fast-paced contemporary romantic
suspense trilogy with paranormal and time-slip ingredients.
The Castilian Pomegranate is the
second in her “Castilian” series, a stand-alone sequel to her September 2020
release, His Castilian Hawk. Set against the complications of Edward I’s
invasion of Wales, His Castilian Hawk is a story of loyalty,
integrity—and love. In The Castilian Pomegranate, we
travel with the protagonists to the complex political world of medieval Spain,
a world of intrigue and back-stabbing.
Her most recent release prior to The Castilian
Pomegranate is The Whirlpools of Time in which she returns to the
world of time travel. Join Duncan and the somewhat reluctant time-traveller
Erin on their adventures through the Scottish Highlands just as the first
Jacobite rebellion is about to explode!
All of Anna’s books have been awarded the IndieBRAG Medallion, she has
several Historical Novel Society Editor’s Choices, and one of her books won the
HNS Indie Award in 2015. She is also the proud recipient of various Reader’s
Favorite medals as well as having won various Gold, Silver, and Bronze Coffee
Pot Book Club awards.
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