“You were in his bedroom?” Henry asked with an incredulous chuckle.
“Oh yes, and everywhere else I could go, too. I even made friends with some hounds!”
Henry gaped at him. Max laughed knowingly.
“However, there are more men than I had calculated.”
“Do you think it will be possible to take it?” Max could not resist asking.
“Yes, it is possible, Max, but... we don’t have enough men with us at present. There will be only one chance! We have to go back to Paphos, pick up the rest of our crew, and then see what advantage the slaves can provide us. Those slaves are a sorry looking lot. If we could use them they might provide us with one means to entry, but we need to think about how to accomplish that very carefully. Everything has to happen at the same time, you see.”
The three men became aware that there was something happening on the beach. Talon saw one of the crew talking agitatedly to another and pointing up the bank.
“There is something amiss. We need to get ashore immediately,” Talon said, and rushed off to get his bow. On the way he called for Junayd and Dar’an. “Come ashore with me at once! Bring your bows!”
They were joined by Khuzaymah, and they all dropped into the small boat which was used to ferry men to and from the beach. At Talon’s urging the two crewmen pulled hard.
No sooner had they landed than one of the senior crew members, with three other scouts behind him, ran down the beach towards Talon and, pointing to the slope, said, “We heard goats, Master Talon. They are approaching from the southwest.”
Talon turned to his companions. “Locate them. If they do not seem to be a danger let them go by. But if they keep coming this way stop whoever it is and capture them, boy or man, and do not let anyone escape. If they flee and you cannot catch them....” He left he rest unsaid.
Junayd and Dar’an closely followed by Khuzaymah raced off along the beach and up the steep bank like hounds just released for the kill. Talon stayed behind to interrogate the scouts.
“How far away did you say they were?” he asked the men, who were gazing after the speeding boys with awe. “God save me, but I would hate to have them after me!” one muttered to his mates.
Talon repeated the question.
“I would say about three or four hundred paces away among the pine trees, Master Talon. I heard the little bells first and knew it was goats or sheep,” the man nearest to him responded.
“Did you see anyone?”
“No, Sir, they were too far away; but just as Captain Henry told us to, we came to warn you. I think they are coming to the stream. If they do, they will certainly discover us!”
“You did well, men,” Talon told the crewmen. “Now go back to your posts and keep out of sight. Watch for any other intruders. My boys will deal with this.”
They did not have long to wait. Before much time had elapsed Dar’an and Junayd came back, holding onto a struggling boy of about nine years. As they came down the slope the boy almost escaped, but Dar’an grabbed him and slapped him hard. After that the boy subsided enough for them to drag him along the sand to where Talon stood waiting.
“How many were there?” he asked.
Dar’an jerked his head upwards. “There were two of them, Master. I had to shoot one with an arrow. We didn’t see him at first, as he was behind the herd, and when he saw we had this boy he ran. He was too far for me to catch him. It was an old man.” He sounded genuinely unhappy at what he’d had to do.
Talon turned his attention to the boy, who had stopped struggling and now faced him. The tear-stained face showed fear, but defiance, too. “Why are you in this area? How many of you were there with the goats?” Talon demanded in Greek.
The boy shook his head and said nothing.
Talon took a step forward. “You have two choices: to tell me everything and live, or wait until we sail again, when we will drop you overboard into the sea for the monsters to devour. Think of your family and how they will feel once they learn of your death.”
“You killed my uncle!” the boy shouted, struggling again. “I hate you!” He began to cry. Tears slid down his cheeks and his nose dribbled as he dropped his head and wept.
“I am sorry for your uncle,” Talon told him. “Believe me, we would prefer that he was still alive. Was he the only one with the herd, other than yourself? Answer me!” his voice cracked in the boy’s ear, making him jump.
“Yes, yes, he was the only person with me,” the boy whimpered. “We are a long way from home and do not come here often. Just for water after some days away from the village. Are you pirates?”
Talon looked around at the crew members still on the beach. “Take him to the ship. Tell Henry and Max what happened and let them deal with him. Do not under any circumstances let him go. If he tries to escape, you know what to do,” he ordered.
The seamen men knuckled their foreheads and seized the boy, whom they dragged off towards the boat.
“What of the goats?” Dar’an asked sensibly.
“Well now, you have just become a goatherd, my lad,” Talon said with a tight grin. “Come on, let’s go and see how many there are. We could do with some meat, anyway. We must get rid of the old man. I want no trace of this incident to attract anyone else to the area.”
The herd was not large, but they couldn’t just let them wander about in this area. “Take them off southwards into the forest for several miles and leave them there, Khuzaymah. You go with him, Junayd. Sooner or later they will drift back to their home village, but by then I hope we are done with all this,” he said. “We’ll keep ten of them for ourselves. The crew are ready for fresh meat.”
The crew had erected crude, lean-to huts on the beach. Talon had expressly forbidden wine or any other alcohol, but somehow some had been smuggled aboard. That night a couple of the men who had been playing knuckles began to drink furtively, and soon they were making a noise, which brought Henry to the scene. He was very angry and promptly arrested the two men, ordering the men on ship guard duty to take them to the ship’s hold. Then he glared around in the firelight at the other sheepish looking fellows, who had clearly been prepared to join in and have a party. “Get to bed. All of you. There will be a court in the morning.”
The next day, Henry convened a court. He asked Talon to preside. When the two culprits were hauled out of the hold onto the waist of the ship, the entire crew was assembled to witness. Blinking in the sunlight, their hands bound behind them, the two men were thrust in front of Henry, who stood on the steering deck overlooking the men.
“You were all warned that there was to be no liquor drunk on this voyage!” Henry said in a loud voice. “Sir Talon here was clear about the dangers of drunkenness to the successful completion of the enterprise.” He paused to glare at the two prisoners, who were on their knees before him with two of the senior crew members holding them down.
“Despite this you ignored the order. You are guilty of disobedience, and for that the sentence should be most severe,” Henry stated flatly. “I have turned the sentence over to Sir Talon here, to do with you as he pleases. If he stretches your sorry necks I shall not be sorry.”
Henry stood back and allowed Talon to step forward. He addressed the crew at large.
“Men, you volunteered to come with me to this island. Your hopes and mine were for a better life than that in Acre. We have, however, found that Cyprus is not what we expected. We will now have to fight for what we want, and this is still possible, but only if you stay loyal and follow orders which are for the benefit of all, not just one or two.
“Our enterprise depends upon you all being alert and fully committed. Drunkenness could scupper everything. You two deserve death for that alone.” He looked over the upturned faces for any signs of rebellion but saw none; then he stared balefully down at the two men, who were looking very frightened. He had the right to execute them, should he wish, but instead he said, “Twenty lashes, to be carried out immediately. For the next man who is cau
ght drinking it will be death.”
There was a collective sigh from the men. Some had expected a harsher sentence, but twenty delivered the right message. It would be a painful experience for the two delinquents. Fifty lashes could kill a man; twenty would be remembered—by everyone.
The two men were bound hand and foot to a grating, which was then lifted so that they were upright, and then the chief seaman who controlled the rowers and another designated sailor carried out the sentence. By the time the smack on flesh of the hissing cord and the screams of the two culprits had ended, both their backs were bloody, and they were semi-conscious. A bucket of sea water thrown at their backs, which revived them to cry out some more before they were cut down and taken below.
Henry had watched with a grim scowl on his face. When it was done he turned to Talon. “I hope the lesson is learned. The crew are volunteers to a man, but I will have discipline on my ship, Sir Talon. The punishment fit the crime.”
Talon nodded agreement. “I hope so. We are very vulnerable here, and a fool could sink our enterprise. I won’t have that under any circumstances.” He considered their situation.
“The men are getting bored,” he told Henry. “We have to move soon, or we will find ourselves with a discontented crew.”
Henry agreed. “Are you ready to go back to Paphos, Talon?”
“Yes, prepare to leave. Make sure we don’t leave any sign of our presence.”
The castle of Kantara awoke to the call of the roosters, two of which vied for domination over the docile flock of chickens that patrolled the inside of the fortress every day, looking for scraps and grass upon which to feed. The sleepy sentries who had been on duty throughout the early hours were relieved and eagerly sought their beds, while the refreshed sentries sent some of their number to the kitchens to scrounge some food.
Inside the keep, men and women servants began the day just like any other. Some prepared food and drink for the lord and his wife on the upper floor, while others set about cleaning the hall. The stable hands awoke, fed the horses and groomed them to a shine. The lord of the castle might on impulse rise from his drunken slumbers and want to go hunting. His men knew better than to wait for the command and be late. His whip was something to be avoided. So was the wrath of his wife, who bullied everyone, including his lordship.
Later in the morning, his Lordship, Cyricus Doukas, strode out of the keep and walked towards the main gates, with his two hounds trotting at his heels. He felt contented and well fed, having dined on roast pigeon, goose meat with dripping on freshly baked bread, and fresh trout, washed down by some wine from his very own vineyard in the valley below. He wiped his beard with the back of his hand and tossed a bone he had been chewing over his shoulder. The hounds dived at it, but he turned and kicked them away and shouted at the cowed animals; then he continued towards the gates, where he was met by the captain of the guard. Today the captain had a worried look on his angular, pock-marked features.
“All well, Palladius?” Cyricus demanded routinely. He was going to inspect the work on the north tower. “I want to see more progress. The work is going too slowly. I shall not only punish the slaves but you as well,” he said, before the sergeant could reply to the first question.
“Everything is in order, Lord,” the man said hesitantly, “but....”
“But what?” Cyricus demanded irritably, “Spit it out, man!”
“Well, all appears to be well, my Lord, except that Traianus is absent.”
Cyricus shrugged. “Should I be concerned? He is one of your lot of scum, is he not? Deal with it. If he is absent he will be flogged near to death when we do find him.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Palladius replied. He would search everywhere again. There had been no sign of the man, and he should have reported by now. Traianus was an experienced soldier who took his duties seriously. None of the sentries had seen him leave the castle. Palladius followed Cyricus and his hounds as they climbed the steps to the other tower, from where they would be able to witness the arrival of the slaves and observe the work on the defenses.
“If the work does not progress apace, have their rations cut in half,” Cyricus stated with a belch. Palladius nodded reluctantly, but inside he was disgusted. He knew that the slaves were on their last legs already. To cut their food even more was tantamount to killing them; but a command was a command, and he knew better than to disagree with this man. He would pass the order along to the overseers when the slaves arrived, which they were in the process of doing as the Lord reached the battlements.
Both men stared down at the long line of men in chains that moved slowly up the track towards the gates. The clink of their chains could be clearly heard. Palladius could see, even if his lord could not, that these people were starved already. Cutting rations was not going to improve their performance. He shrugged internally. It was not his concern. The gates were opened on a shouted command from Palladius, and the slaves shuffled through the archway into the barbican area, with the rattle of many chains. The overseers shouted at them to move along. Once inside the bailey, they waited to be released from their respective gangs before being driven to their work places with whips and curses.
Cyricus watched the goings-on in the barbican for a while, then turned to leave. One of his hounds was not quick enough to get out of the way. It received a solid kick in the side, which made it yelp with pain, tuck its tail between its legs and scamper down the steps ahead of the Lord and Master.
Cyricus had no sooner exited the tower when the unmistakable voice of his wife, Flavia, could be heard yelling from the window of the bailey. “Where are you, Cyre? I need you to help me up here, at once!”
Palladius grinned to himself and withdrew from the edge of the tower to avoid being caught watching. When the irascible wife asserted her will upon the detestable Lord of the castle, anyone with sense vanished from sight.
A new day had dawned in the castle of Kantara.
The next morning found the entire crew cleaning the ship from stem to stern under the watchful eye of one of Henry’s senior crew men. Talon was amused but also pleased. The men who had been sent to observe the harbor were back with reports of a small but thriving community of fishermen and sheep herders.
“What else did you find while there?” he asked the lead crew man.
“They are a small village and would not be able to fight. We could take them in a minute if we surprised them. I saw a couple of horses, which surprised me, but I think they belonged to the two soldiers who were lounging about drinking at a small tavern,” the man told him. Talon filed the horses away as useful information.“They have crops further up the road towards the castle, and I saw at least two orchards and several stands of olive trees,” the man concluded.
“Are you a farmer, then, that you know this?” Henry asked him.
“Mature olive trees?” Max asked.
“Yes, Sir. I rented a land holding once, outside Acre. We near starved to death. Them Arabs killed my family.” He turned to Max. “There are enough olive trees there to fill several vats when they are ready, I should think, Sir.”
That pleased the listeners very much. “This valley could be self sustaining, with a little left over for trade,” Henry observed. Talon liked the sound of that, should he be lucky enough to implement his plan and live to enjoy the fruits of success.
It was late in the morning when Talon finally gave his approval to the clean up of the beach. They were preparing the ship for the journey back to Paphos when one of the lookouts, who had been posted on the small headland to keep an eye out to sea, came scampering along the bank. “There is a ship coming our way, Captain!” he called breathlessly. “It looks as though they are coming right here!”
Talon dived below. By the time he come back on deck with his bow and two of the bamboo bombs in his arms, most of the crew were on board and either standing to the oars or preparing to drop sail. His own men were ready with their weapons at the bows of the ship.
“We can
surprise anyone with these nasty things,” he told his friends, who looked askance at the innocuous tubes.
“What do they do?” Max asked doubtfully.
“They make an awful ‘bang’ sound that deafens anyone nearby, if they haven’t killed them first,” Talon stated.
Henry and Max gaped and were about to say something more when the man posted on the top of the mast shouted down. “It is Captain Guy! I would know that ship anywhere!”
The men on the steering deck visibly relaxed. They still waited until the other ship was nosing into the cove to make quite sure, but then the figures on that ship waved and shouted greetings to them.
“Phew, I’m glad it wasn’t someone else,” Henry stated with obvious relief.
Talon nodded thoughtfully. Their cove could have become a trap. That was a liability he would need to reconsider, but now at least he could move ahead with his plan. The extra men he needed had just arrived.
The people on Guy’s ship were excited and relieved to see Talon’s ship and cheered as they drew abreast, but Henry’s crew swiftly waved them to silence. As the two ships bumped together, some of them hissed, “No noise! No noise!”
He clasps the crag with crooked hands
Close to the sun in lonely lands
Ring’d with the azure world he stands
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls
—Alfred Lord Tennyson
Chapter 13
Thunderbolt
Reza had been disappointed at being left behind in Paphos but fully understood that significant responsibility rested on his shoulders. With that in mind he spent much time with Dimitri, trying to gauge the mood in the city. What they heard and saw was not reassuring. If anything, people were even more apprehensive two days after Talon had departed.
“You know about this Komnenos who is running the country?” Dimitri asked Reza.
They were walking towards the house of Boethius Eirenikos, the merchant. Reza stopped and said, “I understand that he is a bad man and we must be careful.”
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