Cyricus showed up, looking dissipated and hung over. He rubbed his eyes, leaned over a trough and, groaning, splashed water over his bloated face, then glanced up to see Talon standing nearby with a friendly smile on his face. Palladius was standing impassively just across the barbican yard near the tower.
“Ah, good morning, Sir Talon. I didn’t expect you to be up at this early hour. Did you have a good night?” Cyricus leered.
“Good morning, my Lord,” Talon replied, ignoring the implied meaning. “It is a beautiful day, and I was just admiring your home. The view from this castle must be extraordinary! How it must warm your heart every day to see your domain spread out beneath you.”
“Well, why don’t you come up to the top of that tower with me and my unsociable Sergeant? We can see the view and watch the slaves on their way up to complete the repairs on the other tower.” Cyricus grunted as he shook his head to dash the water from his eyes.
Talon smiled again. “Thank you, my Lord. I would like that very much.” He joined Cyricus, who had begun to stride off. The two hounds came up to Talon, wagging their tails and dancing, vying with one another for his attention.
“I have never seen those two behave in this manner before,” Cyricus growled. “Can’t think what is the matter with them. Normally they are very suspicious of strangers.”
“A merchant’s lot is to travel far and wide. Perhaps they recognize some scent on me that reminds them of their former home,” Talon said lightly.
They joined Palladius, who nodded respectfully to Talon and glanced at the hounds. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of their behavior; obviously he was impressed, but he said nothing. He turned and led the way into the tower. They climbed the stone steps—Palladius and Talon easily, Cyricus with huffing and wheezing—and emerged into the soft light of dawn to stand overlooking the narrow track that led to the gates below.
Cyricus waved his arm around him in a wide arc. “Do you like the view, Sir Talon? It is all mine. Look around! This castle is impregnable from all sides,” he bragged.
The view was everything that Talon had expected and hoped. Turning around he exclaimed in genuine awe at the view. “It is magnificent! You are perfectly right. No one could take this castle by frontal assault!”
He turned around completely. He could see quite clearly that there were now two ships in the distant harbor; he hoped that Guy and Henry had taken the port during the night. If it was secure, he at least had an escape route if all failed here. He felt confident that Yosef and his men had completed their tasks, as no alarms had been raised. Had there been any disturbance, this hard-bitten soldier with them would have been the one to report it, and here came the slave gang, right on time.
The three men watched as the chained slaves hobbled up the steep pathway, then turned towards the gates. The overseers where shouting and cracking their whips with enthusiasm and the men staggered along, carrying what appeared to be heavy loads for the work to be done. Neither of the men nearby evinced any sign of suspicion as the gang stumbled to a halt on a shouted command from one of the overseers. Talon, however, could recognize Henry acting as one of the noisy overseers and Reza pretending to be a slave, despite their disguises.
Palladius raised his hand in acknowledgement and shouted down to the men at the gate to open them. Cyricus simply watched through bleary eyes; his hangover was fierce this morning, so his attention was distracted. The gates began to open and the overseers were herding the first of the slaves into the courtyard when Palladius frowned and started. Then he jerked his head up and almost ran to the other side of the tower to stare down at the men in the yard.
“There is something wrong, here,” he muttered to himself. “These are not the same men...” he exclaimed, but he never finished the sentence. A blow on the back of his head sent him sprawling unconscious at the feet of his master.
Cyricus stepped back in surprise and gaped down at his sergeant. He opened his mouth to shout in alarm, but stopped as he realized that the point of a curious looking sword was very close to his throat. The hand holding it was as steady as a rock. The eyes above the blade end were as cold as green ice. Gone was the avuncular behavior exhibited by his guest of the previous evening.
“I suggest that you do nothing, nothing at all, and all will be well, my Lord,” Talon said, and waved his other arm high in the air as he spoke.
Suddenly all was activity in the yard below. Figures appeared, as though from within the walls themselves, and ran in several directions. The slaves suddenly were no longer chained together and were just as inexplicably armed to the teeth. The astonished guards at the gates were surrounded and disarmed before they even had a chance to put up any resistance.
Then a man, his face half obscured, bounded into sight on top of the tower. He glanced at Talon and laughed, then knelt beside the fallen Palladius to secure his hands and feet with a rope. Rising gracefully, he walked up to Cyricus while saying something to Talon, who responded with a grin and a nod. Cyricus found his own hands tied behind him and was shoved rudely down the steps by the stranger, with Talon following behind.
Cyricus who had hitherto been too surprised to do anything but gape, now came to life. “What are you doing, you rogue!” he gobbled with growing rage. “I’ll see you dangle from a rope, you pirate, you thief... you, you Frank! What is the meaning of this!” he roared.
“Why, my Lord, I have just relieved you of your castle and you are now my prisoner. If you behave, you shall have payment for it. I would advise you to take the offer, as that is the best price you are going to receive from anyone,” Talon responded.
Talon looked over towards the barracks to see his men preparing a fire near each doorway. The fires were lit, and Yosef tossed some powder into the flames which produced much smoke that was then wafted in through the grills of the stout doors.
“Are you setting fire to this place? You are mad!” Cyricus exclaimed, horrified.
“Oh no, but the doors are bolted on the inside. We only intend to smoke them out,” Talon said, as he observed Palladius being hustled onto the yard to join the other guards. The sergeant looked dazed and confused. The dense smoke that Reza’s men were fanning into the barracks had woken the guards, who choked and coughed on the acrid fumes entering their barracks. Muffled shouts from the soldiers could be heard as they clamored to be let out, but when the bolts were drawn and the guards saw the fires on the thresholds, they fell back, coughing uncontrollably.
Dimitri shouted, “If you want to live, come out with no weapons! No weapons, no knives nor swords nor spears, nothing, if you value your lives.”
There was discussion within the barracks amid much coughing and retching. “Yes, yes, curse you to hell! We surrender! Let us out!” someone yelled from within before he was cut off by a fit of coughing.
“Do as I say or you will all die!” Dimitri shouted. He nodded to Yosef, now joined by Dar’an, and their men shoveled the smoking fires out of the way. Six archers, bows drawn, covered the doors, and other men stood ready with spears and swords just in case the men inside wanted to perform some heroics. The doors were dragged open and a dense smoke poured out, followed by men staggering and gasping and coughing violently, too shaken to put up any resistance. Their weapons had been left behind.
Dar’an wasted no time. His men rushed forward and began to tie the men’s arms behind them, then several slipped into the barracks to see if anyone still lingered and to secure the weapons. Having satisfied himself that resistance was over in that quarter, Yosef ran up to salute Talon and report. “There is no one left in there, Master. They are our prisoners. Dimitri and Dar’an have them.”
“Nice work, you two,” Talon smiled. Just as he said this, there were screams and the sounds of a scuffle from within the bailey,
The lady of the house came boiling out of the main entrance to stand at the top of the steps screaming at the men who were trying to hold her still. Flavia was a stout woman whose strength seemed more than a match for the
two men trying to prevent her from getting away.
“Cyr!” She screamed, “Who are these brutes? Get your slimy hands off me, you rogues!” She struggled, which made her whole body wobble and shake violently. “My husband will see you hanged for this insolence! Cyr! Help me, you worthless prick!” she screamed at Cyricus.
Then Rav’an appeared, with a couple of Reza’s men in attendance. “Be quiet, Madam!” she said in a sharp, clear voice. “Be quiet or I shall stick you with this knife.” She waved a slim, bright blade under Flavia’s nose in a menacing manner. Flavia’s small brown eyes grew wide with shock. Although she could not understand a word, the meaning was clear enough.
“You! You are part of this? God save us!” Flavia exclaimed in her own language.
“I regret to inform you that your husband no longer owns this castle,” Rav’an told her, in halting French. “My husband does, and should you forget it, he will kill your ‘Cyr’ right in front of you. He’ll probably hang him. My husband doesn’t like to make a mess.”
Flavia collapsed. She almost fell, but her escort held her upright with a great effort, then frog-marched her down the short flight of steps to join her husband where, after glaring at him, she sat on the ground with a thump. Leaving them under a tight guard, Talon joined Reza and Rav’an. Reza had just emerged from the bailey. “How did it go in there, Brother?” he asked.
Reza laughed.“We secured the kitchens and the servants on the top floor, but I was not prepared for this one!” he indicated Flavia. “I’m surprised I am still in one piece. We’ll have to work on Khuzaymah’s dragon fighting skills. She threw him across the room and was about to beat him to death with a stool before I got to her. That is one formidable woman.”
“Rav’an has tamed her. She has a way with knives,” Talon said, with a grin at his wife. “Are there any other places where we might meet any resistance?”
“We have scoured the entire place, Talon. I really think it is ours.” Reza laughed exultantly.
Henry came up and joined them. “Good to see you are alive and well in the lion’s den, Talon. Do we really own this place now?”
Talon smiled. “It might easily have been the other way around, Henry. I am glad that our ploy worked.”
“Our real slaves are too weak to do any more, Talon. What should I do with them?”
“I suggest you keep them under guard until we have disposed of his Lordship and his men, then we can decide. Get some of the crew to bring food to them, Henry. You are right, they don’t look in very good shape,” Talon said. Henry hurried off to deal with his new charges.
“Come with me, both of you. I want to talk to the ex-Lord of the castle.” Talon put his arm around Rav’an’s waist as he walked.
His friends accompanied him the short distance to stand in front of Cyricus and his wife, who scrambled to her feet but was now looking very dispirited and frightened. All the fight had left her.
“Are you going to kill us?” Cyricus asked, trying to show defiance. “You know that Isaac will take this place back from you in a matter of a week. Then you will all dangle from the North walls, in pieces!”
“If there is to be any dangling, it will be you if you do not do as I say,” Talon told him, and by his tone Cyricus finally became aware that he had very much underestimated his new enemy.
“What do you want of me?” he muttered.
Talon motioned to Nasuh, who had been hovering in the background. The young man walked up and handed over a leather bag that jingled.
“I think we should agree that you have lost this castle, Lord Doukas. While I am sure that you have made many enemies in your life who would show you no mercy, I am about to do so. Here is payment for the castle and the retainers who wish to stay on. You will leave with the clothes on your back and one chest of clothes for the Lady Flavia. Your personal servants will accompany you, as will your men at arms minus their weapons, and any of the stable hands or falconers who wish to do so. You will leave within the hour, Sir.”
Cyricus was too stunned to speak, but he eyed the bag of coins with a furtive eye.
“I shall provide you and the Lady Flavia with suitable mounts,” Talon continued, and then smiled. “At least, Lord Doukas, you got a fair price.” Talon tossed the bag of gold at Lord Doukas’s feet, where it fell with loud chinking.
Cyricus glowered and tried to shrug against his bonds. “You might have won this time, Sir Talon, but I shall be back with the full force of the empire behind me. You will pay with more than gold, I swear it!” he shouted.
Talon stepped forward till his face was very close to the former Castilian, who felt the menace emanating from his captor and shrank back. “You will do well to remember how I took this castle, my Lord. My men can find you and your family no matter where you hide. We are assassins, and we know our trade. You would do well to sleep with one eye open as long as you are still in this country.
“You will leave Cyprus on the very first ship you can find to take your worthless carcass out. I recommend you go to Famagusta and leave from there. The emperor is still in Paphos, I would imagine. I doubt that Isaac will take very kindly to you losing the castle to me in this manner. He is a vengeful man, you yourself said so.” Talon spoke in a low voice, but it left Cyricus white-faced.
Talon signaled to his men and gave them directions to assemble the cowed soldiers and the servants in the yard of the barbican just in front of the main gates, which were now open.
He addressed them in Greek. “This castle now belongs to me and my people. You are free to go with all your belongings. Those of you who wish to stay may ask to do so, but it will be up to me to decide if I want you. The rest of you should leave with your Lord here.”
By the this time Lord Doukas was mounted on a horse, as was Flavia. Their bewildered and shaken personal servants were gathered in a small cluster around them, clutching their meagre possessions. All were warily watching the tough looking sailors and the glowering slaves who surrounded them, still unsure whether their lives were forfeit or not. Reza was on the walls with his men, making sure that there was no threat from outside during the proceedings. Talon stood on the steps overlooking the crowd with Rav’an next to him. It had come as a shock for some to hear his words, and he could hear murmured conversations, questions, even muted wailing.
Then a hand went up. “I would stay, Sir. I have your word that I will not be harmed?” a man from the stables asked, his tone apprehensive.
“You have my word as a Templar Knight,” Talon stated. The murmuring grew louder at this. A Templar Knight had bested their Lord and master? Before long fifteen men and their wives were stepping forward and offering their services, including, he was pleased to see, two men he knew to be hawkers.
He smiled to himself. Lord Doukas was seething with rage, but the man had been frightened enough by Talon’s words to hold his peace. The venomous look he directed at the ones who wanted to stay said it all. But there was another unwelcome surprise to come for Lord Doukas.
Palladius, having been released, was standing with the wretched-looking soldiers. Seemingly on impulse, he shouldered his way to the front of the assembly and approached Talon. Rav’an hissed a warning and his men’s hands went to their swords. Talon put out a restraining hand. “Wait,” he said.
Palladius stopped several paces before Talon, then went down on one knee, his head bowed. “Sir Talon, I would serve you. Will you take me? I will serve you faithfully in any capacity,” he pleaded.
Lord Doukas could no longer restrain himself. “You treacherous bastard!” he roared. “Turncoat and traitor, I shall see you hang!” he spluttered in his rage.
Palladius glanced back at him with contempt. “You were never a soldier. You have murdered and raped your way to this position. The man I wish to serve is ten times your worth. I will take my chances with him.” He looked up at Talon with a plea in his eyes.
“Will you take me on, Sir Talon? I will serve in the pig sties if I have to. I do not want to follo
w that man ever again.”
Talon looked hard at him. After a small pause he said, “Yes, I will take you, Palladius. As a soldier, but,” his eyes became flint-like, “your word of honor. Do not ever betray me.”
“I swear upon the cross and Almighty God I shall be faithful to you to my death, Sir Talon. May he strike me now if he finds deceit in my heart.” Palladius stated in a clear voice.
“Then remain here,” Talon said. He then waved the Lord Doukas and his now weeping wife Flavia out towards the open gates. The sorry looking assembly turned and departed. There was, however, one last humiliation for Lord Doukas. He called to his hounds in his usual peremptory manner, but they hesitated and looked back with big eyes at Talon, who patted his thigh. They ran happily back to him, wagging their tails. “Sit,” he commanded, and they settled down at his heels.
“They appear to wish to stay as well, my Lord. Safe journey, and don’t forget what I said.” Talon waved at the by now puce-faced Lord Doukas.
When the last one had left the castle the gates were slammed shut and the cheering began. The sailors and the slaves embraced one another, while Reza’s men danced with joy on the battlements.
On the steps, Talon kissed Rav’an to more cheers from the wildly happy men who could hardly believe they had succeeded in their mission.
“I am beginning to wonder if that fat pig will survive the journey to Famagusta, Talon,” Reza laughed. “He was so angry I thought he was going to have a heart attack when you kept his hounds.” They both laughed.
Leaving Rav’an in charge of the bailey to organize, with the help of Dimitri, the servants who had stayed behind, Talon joined Reza on the tower to watch the Lord and his Lady depart. The dejected Lord Doukas and Flavia, trailed by their confused followers, descended the pathway of the ridge and took the path down the south-east side of the mountain towards the distant city of Famagusta.
“Send Yosef and Dar’an after them, keeping out of sight, to watch them. I want to know if they have a change of plan or direction within the next few hours,” Talon said to Reza. “But I don’t think he will tarry. He would not be judged kindly by Isaac.”
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