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A realm of consciousness

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Sibylla opened her eyes suddenly.
Godfrey's soft breath made her understand that he slept, after love.

Sibylla looked at the blurred reliefs that were drawn over the white, on the faded vault of the opposite wall.

"It's built there on purpose," she thought, looking at the skeletal forms that held hands with the men.

-Those figures disturb you?-At her side the Godfrey's husky voice made its way.

Sibylla shrugged, looking at the forms more closely.
Godfrey smiled as he felt her blue gaze fixed on the roof of his house. She had not lost that mystery that had brought her into his arms since long time ago.

As a child, Sibylla showed that attentive look, that look of absolute attention on something that interested her. Godfrey remembered how she had played with her brother, while the servants covered the child's face to hide the first scars of leprosy.
Baldwin had always shown himself to be a protective brother with Sibylla, because he was really the strongest of the two.
He had always been.

Godfrey had read the Bible to both, and only him had led the holy places by the king´s asking. Maybe for that Godfrey's voice was so pleasant ... it was the first male voice that had instructed to Sibylla.

Now her love for him had changed like just as a tree changes its leaves in the fall.

-Yes, they do-said Sibylla quietly.

-Why?-asked Godfrey, while his hand pulled the sheets away to search for Sibylla's flat stomach and caressed it by making small circles over him.

-Because it reminds us that despite the glory achieved, despite everything we do in this world, in the end we will all die. Because everything is enduring-she said.

-And That saddens you, Sibylla? -Godfrey pierced her face with his blue eyes. They were intoxicants for her.

-Yes, but you know it, Godfrey.

Godfrey brought his face to hers and smiled kissing her lips, chaste but long.
It was a kiss from his own, the kind of kisses that she needed, and for those that she'd been going to Ibelin, hidding it to Guy. The kisses that asked for more and more kisses.
Those were the Godfrey´s.

-What do you think?-she pointed to the picture with her painted fingers.

-Are you really interested aren´t you?-said Godfrey making her smile.

-Yes, i´m. It remembers me when you taught me and my brother-she said with a sad voice.

-Oh Sibylla, now here in the bed-Godfrey shrieked in a funny tone-you´re cruel.

Sibylla raised one eyebrow in order.
-Ok i´ll tell you. This is more an advice. All us are mortals, all we must sieze the time, a life without love is not a life-he said.

-Do you think in Jerusalem there is enough love Godfrey?

-Oh no. But the peace between all the religions is possible, Sibylla-he said taking her hands.

-Ah Godfrey, my brother´s dream. This belongs to you-said Sibylla-his dreams are your dreams too.

-Is the love for what we are here-Godfrey whispered in her ears, while she closed her eyes.

-Is love the goal of the crusade, Godfrey?

-No, no, but it should be. Jerusalem should be a kingdom of consciousness, a kingdom of love. Or not be ours-said Godfrey-if we can not love each other, in spite of religions, how could we be worthy to rule or possess the land on which Christ lived?

Godofrey got up from the bed, and naked as a newborn went to the water jar. He washed his face, while Sibylla looked at him curiously.

-How many women have you loved, Godfrey?

-Only one. But that was a long time ago, Sibylla-she knew he did not want talk about that.

Godfrey stared at the wall, his gaze fixed on infinity.

-And now you remember her- said Sibylla.
Sibylla knew the men well.

Her husband had left her no choice but to take lovers. Forced to her marriage with Guy, he had barely touched her more than a couple of times. Both sought pleasure out of their marriage, in the arms of others.

Sibylla compared Godfrey's body to that of her husband. she could not help it.
Godfrey's white buttocks, his strong back, his muscles strengthened by his age...Godfrey was twice her age, but she hardly cared.

-She lived in France-he said suddenly turning around- She was a peasant, Marie. She was about to marry his fiancé, the smith's son, but I courted her until I made her mine, she had a sweet voice, and her hair was more black than the darkest night, like yours.

-Oh i don´t have a sweet voice, Godfrey like she had-Sibylla said, trembling at the thought of Godfrey opening his heart even more.
She knew about his bastard son in France. There were rumors about it throughout the court of Jerusalem.

-But she did not have your blue eyes, Sibylla-Godfrey showed a shy smile.

"Godfrey is so honest, so sweet and polite. He couldn´t to be rude with me any possible way".
This natural skill of Godfrey was what had her under his spell.

The Guy´s treatment always was so fool, evil, cruel and immature.

-Is she the mother of your son?-Sibylla was curious like a kitten, and her voice soft and hoarse was like that of a kitten too. Godfrey was annoying

-Yes, she was-said Godfrey-she died long time ago. In labour, but not with my child, but her second child, the son of her husband.

-And your son, Godfrey? He was fascinated by her power.
Sibylla was the most beautiful woman in Jerusalem. It was a miracle she was in his bed. And the power he exercised over him was that which she wielded over any man.
Her husband was a fool.

But she was here, in Ibelin, instead the anothers great places of Jerusalem.

Godfrey knew that she was waiting the truth. The only and terrible truth.

-I never have seen to my son, i don´t know his name-he said.

-Why not?-she said-never is too late, Godfrey.

Godfrey sat down on his bed, covering himself with the sheets torn from the mattress.

-Yes it is. What i could offer to him in Jerusalem except blood and death? -he said. His sad eyes over her blue eyes too.

-Your love, your faith, your devotion. You could give him the chance of meet his true father, and come with you to Ibelin-Sibylla said-i couldn´t stand far of my son, Godfrey.

-What if my son did not accept me? What if I he was not worthy of love or inheriting what I have achieved here?-he said-this is Jerusalem.

-The searching of the perfect warrior again, Godfrey-said Sibylla, touching his back-forget my brother´s dream and embrace your reality, my love.

-I love you, Sibylla.

The silence reigned in the room. The Sibylla's hands were down and up his back. Godfrey tensed at her massage.

-And i love you too, Godfrey. When you will leave?

-Tomorrow morning-he said.

-Maybe when you came back, your son will can meet my son-said Sibylla.

-Oh really?-Godfrey turned, and gently pushed Sibylla on the pillow, smiling.

-What am I to you? -He asked

-Ibelin, the place where i learn what the life really is, Godfrey-she said, playing with his cut hair.

-Do you love Ibelin as i do, then?

-I´ll always love Ibelin and all his owners-she said-if i´d live a thousand of years i´d love Ibelin in the same way.

-Jerusalem would let you?

-All is possible in a kingdom of consciousness-she said

-Ah Sibylla, poor Jerusalem if we were the rulers-he said by last time because she sunk her face under the Godfrey´s and thirsty sought the lips of that man who was like herfather, her teacher, her most special lover and her best confidant.
Godfrey made her the love again, while she understood how in the future her heart would belong to Ibelin forever, and anything would change this fact.