Assassins of Kantara

by James Boschert

  A thought occurred to him. There were men with him who could climb; why not come in by the back of the castle where the inhabitants might not be so watchful? He wondered about that. It was a daunting prospect, but they might be able to pull it off. They could toss grapples up over the parapets then climb the ropes at night. The idea appealed to him. He and his men alone could take the castle while the army and its mad emperor slept. Then he, Bourtzes, might even have a bargaining piece of his own.

  He began to outline his plan t. At first there was resistance.

  “I’m not going back into that place,” one of the men said sounding very shaken. “There is an evil magician there, and his power is too great for my taste.”

  Others joined in, but Bourtzes insisted that they listen to him. He pointed out that under cover of darkness they would be invisible to defenders, unexpected, unlooked-for. Furthermore, even magicians had to sleep. The mood gradually changed from near mutiny to one of cautious optimism. These men, after all, were hardened fighters who liked the idea of taking the castle for themselves. One even went so far as to say, “I’d like to take it and damned well keep it. That boss of yours is as cracked as a sea urchin, but a lot more dangerous.”

  “Just remember that he pays your wages, and keep your tongue quiet in that empty head of yours,” Bourtzes growled. He wanted to quell all thoughts from that direction—for now anyway.

  Once he was satisfied that he had them on his side, they settled down to dinner and planning. Having lost nearly thirty to the unnerving archery of the enemy, Bourtzes had only fifty men left, and he intended to use them all. Firstly, however, he needed to explore the rear side of the castle and figure out how to accomplish the assault. He and his captains would climb the hill in the dark and do some exploring. They would have to be careful of sentries posted on the walls of the castle; but his men were stealthy, experienced soldiers. They would not be seen or heard.

  Bourtzes sent his best men to install themselves under the walls of the castle on the northern side, then ordered his other men to get some rest. Next, he and his four captains sped on their way up the path to the ridge.

  Talon, Reza and and his men slipped out of the gates well after dark. He looked up at the sky; this was the best kind of night for what he had in mind. Oddly enough the enemy had left no one watching the gates to the castle so it was an easy matter to open them quietly to allow him, Reza and three of their new Companions as Reza was wont to dub them, to leave and then disappear into the rocks below the castle. Each man carried a bow, arrows wound around with turpentine rags, and two exploding tubes.

  Talon had left Max in charge with Maymun to shadow him, and Palladius to guard the gates in case, by some extraordinary act of initiative, the enemy decided to attack at night. Talon doubted the emperor could so muster his forces, but ever present in his mind was the ease with which he himself had taken the castle. He wanted no such reversal while he was holding it.

  After months of Reza’s tutelage, the new Companions were well trained in stealth and concealment. Try as he might to see them below, Palladius could detect nothing. He shook his head, the hairs on his arms rising. Talon and his men scared him more than he could say. Just at that moment, Max arrived with a couple of his Franks. Max pointed down and smiled in the dark. “You will never see these people until it is too late,” he said. Palladius humphed. “They scare the shit out of me,” he said.

  “They should. Better you are on our side now, Palladius,” Max said somberly. “It is a good night for the assassins.”

  The five men moved very cautiously along the ridge towards where Talon knew there to be sentries and tents. The light of several fires was indication enough that a fairly large body of men was keeping watch on the road. Here he expected men to be standing guard, or patrolling. Sure enough, just as his group approached the crossroads, they heard stealthy movement ahead. Peering into the darkness, Talon and his men watched as about twenty well armed men climbed onto the ridge road and, after answering the challenge of the alert sentries, disappeared down the other side.

  Reza nudged him. “Do you think they are heading for the harbor?” he asked in a low voice.

  Talon murmured back, “Have Junayd follow them to find out and report back.” Reza whispered something, and the dark shadow of Junayd rose and slipped into the bushes behind them.

  “Regardless of what those men are doing, we will begin to eliminate the sentries,” Talon whispered. The group rose and moved silently towards the crossroads. One by one, the men who were either standing or walking about on watch were slain. A knifing here, a well placed arrow there, within half an hour the work was done. No one on the ridge was left on guard. Talon decided to leave the sleeping men to find their comrades in the morning.

  “It will put the fear of God into them and further demoralize them,” he told his men before they left. Satisfied that they had left no one to stop them on their way back from the enemy camp, Talon led the way down the path. About a hundred paces down the slope, he and his men encountered another group of well armed men moving purposefully up the track. They were challenged by the leader of the group.

  The half-moon was obscured from time to time as dark clouds moved overhead, but it was easy enough for Bourtzes to stride up the still dry pathway. They passed two sentries whom Bourtzes had placed earlier, were challenged correctly, and allowed to pass. A wind was beginning to sough through the trees, making low moaning sounds. Bourtzes shivered and looked up at the sky; it looked as though the night might soon become very wet. They were almost at the ridge top where other sentries were posted, as this was the most vulnerable part of the trail. Beyond this point the path split: one way led to the dark, looming castle, and the other led down towards the harbor some miles away.

  It was just as they were about to crest the slope and Bourtzes was expecting to be challenged that they almost ran into four men moving down the slope towards them. There was something about the dark, hooded men that made Bourtzes’ instincts jangle. He had not seen nor heard the sentries where he had installed them, and now these dark strangers were walking silently towards him. He placed his hand on his sword hilt. A flash of lighting illuminated the group ahead, and his eyes narrowed. Although they didn’t appear to be armed, he stopped in his path, his captains behind him, and called out a challenge. “Halt! Who goes there?”

  “Friend,” said a voice softly, and he heard a snick, which was the last thing Bourtzes ever heard. He recognized Talon just as his head parted ways with his body. A very sharp blade sliced into his neck and his head tumbled to the ground. The body stood upright for a moment, almost as though disputing the fact that it had just lost one of its more important parts, and then collapsed to the dust.

  The other men barely had time to register what had happened before the hooded phantoms fell upon then with their swords and killed them with such speed and efficiency that no one even had the chance to cry out in alarm.

  In the ensuing silence, even the owls had stopped hooting as though they were also listening and all were waiting for the storm to break. When a fox barked in the woods nearby Talon and his men left the trail and listened for any more people who might be coming up the hillside.

  Then Reza, who had very sharp ears, held up his hand and hissed quietly. “Someone coming.”

  After a few long minutes while they waited they felt rather than saw or heard another person coming down the track. Reza grunted. Despite the wind that now tugged at their clothing he had heard something. It was Junayd. He stepped out and signaled the young man to join them. In an excited whisper Junayd told them what he had discovered.

  The group of men had not gone to the harbor, instead they had gone off the trail and were even now circling around the castle towards the northwest side. They had stopped in among the rocks below the walls as though waiting for something or someone to tell them what to do next.

  “Good. Go back to the castle and inform Max. You did well. See if you can locate the men from the top of
the walls.” Reza told him. Although he would rather have accompanied Talon, Junayd obediently sped off to alert the castle.

  “What was it that you heard down there?” Talon whispered to Reza.

  “Sounded like the growl of a large animal,” Reza responded. “We know they have hounds, but this didn’t sound like one of those.” They all listened again but heard nothing other than the soughing of the wind in the trees as the storm approached.

  Talon had two objectives in mind. One was to disable the monster trebuchet. He didn’t know if Isaac had any competent engineers at his disposal. If he did, then even at that distance it could possibly hurl large rocks at the walls of his castle. Talon didn’t want to find out.

  His other objective took priority over even that. He led the way down the slope towards the enemy camp. Along the way the group disposed of sentries who might have raised the alarm. Their objective: the tent of the emperor, which was easy enough to identify by its size.

  There was no sign of activity around the great tent, and only two sentries stood near the closed entrance. The servants, exhausted by the tantrums thrown by their master and anticipating the storm, had sought cover and were by now asleep. All the same, Talon and his men made a complete circuit. It was a good thing that they did, because they discovered something unexpected at the back.

  As they were moving quietly from shadow to shadow, they all heard the growl of a large animal. Everyone stopped and eased deeper into the shadows. Ahead of them, Talon could see a cage on a wagon bed, and in the cage a dark shadow that moved. The animal was aware of them. Their very stealth might have alarmed it, because it was used to men walking openly around its location. The dark form came to the bars and stared out at them. The one thing they did not need was for the animal to roar and wake others. Its tail was beginning to lash as it watched them, and a low growl came from deep within its throat. Like phantoms the men slipped back out of its sight and settled in a dark corner near some wagons, from which vantage point they could see the sentries.

  “It might stay quiet if we keep out of sight,” Reza whispered. He sounded nervous.

  “Reza, it’s you and I who will take the guards,” Talon whispered.

  “How do you propose to do this?” Reza asked.

  “Remember the game that Fang taught us? I hope you have been practicing?” Fang, a former bodyguard in China, had taught the two men how to draw and strike in one fluid motion.

  Reza’s teeth flashed in the dark. “Tell me which one is mine.”

  They stood up and began to walk casually along the grassy lane towards the tent where the two large guards were standing. The guards were silent, probably for fear of waking the monster within, but they were alert. They held spears, and they were well armored; but while their helmets were on their heads, the chain hoods were down. Many soldiers objected to the heat and weight of hoods, not to mention the way they occluded the wearer’s field of vision. A gust of wind rattled the banners and stays of the nearby tents and tore a hole in the clouds. In the moonlight, the guards could hardly fail to notice the two men who sauntered towards them, chatting in an undertone, clearly going somewhere and just as clearly in no particular hurry. To all appearences not a threat.

  As Talon and Reza drew near to them, the guards, unaware of impending danger, nodded a silent greeting, which was returned with a wave of a hand; then, as though they had decided on the spur of the moment to chat, Talon and Reza turned towards the guards and came closer. In the same instant, both men struck. Talon and Reza had practiced this maneuver so many times they moved in almost perfect unison. Their right hands reached to their left sides and—as if by magic—long, slightly curved swords appeared. The blades hissed through the air, and two heads dropped to the ground as blood sprayed the tent. The bodies fell, and it was over.

  Talon and Reza, with the same swift fluidity of movement, dragged the two bodies into a dark shadow. Yosef and Dar’an assumed the positions vacated by the unfortunate victims. There had been almost no sound at all, but one of the servants in a tent nearby called out in his sleep. All five of them froze, but apparently the servant settled down again, for there was an inarticulate grumble, and then the sound of snores. A dog barked somewhere in among the tents far below them, but otherwise all was quiet.

  Talon and Reza slipped silently into the tent and stood still, adjusting their eyes to the darkness within. A solitary bulge and light snoring told them what they needed to know: his eminence was sleeping alone, which suited Talon just fine. He had half expected to find the emperor surrounded by women while he slept.

  While Reza stood watch, Talon walked up to the bed and nudged the sleeping person awake.

  Isaac struggled up from a deep sleep to find a dark shadow standing over him. He immediately thought someone was trying to kill him and opened his mouth to scream. A hard hand came down over his mouth, silencing him, and the point of a dagger pricked his throat. A flash of lighting briefly illuminated the inside of the tent, and the clap of thunder near the mountain made Isaac, already scared half out of his wits, flinch. The presence of a second dark figure in the tent with him only added to the nightmare.

  “If you value your life you will remain silent,” said a voice in accented Greek. “One sound and you will die, regardless of what happens to us later, Your Highness.” Isaac subsided into the silk cushions. He had begun to perspire, and it was not because of the stuffy interior of the tent.

  “Let me see your hands, my Lord,” Talon said.

  Isaac lifted his hands in the air. “Who... who are you?” he stuttered. Talon could smell the fear emanating from the man.

  “Lay your arms wide. I am Sir Talon de Gilles, Your Highness.”

  Isaac jerked his head up. “You!”

  “Yes, I! We have to have a little talk, my Lord.”

  “How did you get in here? Where are my guards?” Isaac croaked. He licked his dry lips.

  “You mean the ones who were guarding you, or the ones that are guarding you now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you will never really know who it is guarding you from this moment forth,” Talon said quietly. “Will they be the men you think they are, or the men I placed there?”

  Isaac gurgled.

  “I and my people can gain access to the most secure chamber. This tent was easy, but even in your own palace back in Famagusta you will never be sure again of the men who guard you, and you will always wonder who is hiding in the shadows.”

  Isaac was trembling. “What do you want?” he whispered.

  “I told you. We need to talk.”

  “You have stolen my castle!”

  “You stole it first. You had no right to it, Your Highness. Your uncle would be very pleased if I killed you right now.”

  “I am the Emperor! I can do what I want!”

  Talon gave a sigh of exasperation.

  “Not in my case. I want you to leave with this rag tag army of yours and go back to Famagusta. If you do not, more men will die—and that will include you.” Talon’s tone was dark with intent.

  Try as he might, Isaac could not discern the features of the dark shadow that leaned over him, which made the threat even more menacing.

  “I have a proposal to make to you, Your Highness,” Talon said in a reasonable tone.

  “What would that be?” Isaac asked in a hoarse voice.

  “I shall pay you a yearly tithe for the privilege of being left alone. In gold, once a year. The Assassins in Syria do this, you know. They pay the Knights Templar gold to be left alone. I am proposing a similar arrangement to you. What do you think?”

  Isaac was so shaken he just nodded. For the briefest of moments he had contemplated shouting for help, but the other sinister shadow shifted near to the entrance, and he gave up all thought of resistance.

  “How do I know you will keep your word?” he demanded.

  “Well, it’s a case of mutual distrust, Your Highness. I don’t trust you, and you have to trust me. W
hen you get back to Famagusta, your steward will tell you that a small box of gold has arrived from a place unknown to him. That is how I shall keep my word. Then you will keep yours. Leave at dawn with your entire army, and do not ever come back. I don’t care much that you plunder your empire; I find it distasteful, but that is your affair. However, you will leave me and mine alone... and you will get your tithe.”

  “You have my promise,” Isaac croaked.

  “I will have more than your promise, My Lord. There will be a document with the gold inside the box, which the steward will be told is not to be opened except by you. This document, which details our agreement must find its way back to me, with your seal attached. Neither I nor anyone attached to me is to be taken or harmed in any way henceforth. Should that ever occur, should even one of my household suffer harm, then your entire family will be forfeit, one by one, and last of all you will die, but I shall keep you guessing until that last moment of truth. My vengeance, or that of my people should I die due to any treachery by you, will be truly terrible. Remember the noise you heard today? I possess magic and I will not hesitate to use it should you renege on your promise.” The menace was back in the tone, and Isaac gulped.

  “Yes, yes I agree. It shall be so,” he stammered. “I shall leave in the morning and you shall have your document.”

  “Good. Then there is no more to be said except for me to wish you a pleasant rest of the night,” Talon said as he stood up. “Do not make a move nor call out, as my men will be here until dawn. Should you do so, they have orders to kill you, and we don’t want that, do we? Good night, my Lord,” he reached behind him to take a cup from Reza. Just then the first drops of rain began to fall outside.

  “I nearly forgot. Please drink this, Your Highness.”

  Isaac did as he was so, trembling with fear. He could not be certain that his life would not end right then and there from poison, but he was so scared that he did as he was told. After a few minutes his eyelids felt so heavy he had to close them. He went to sleep to the sound of rain pattering on the fabric of the tent.