“I have not eaten a good fish in a while. That was delicious!” Jannet declared happily.
Talon allowed the others to drift off after they had eaten, but he called for Dimitri and sat him down in a small room that he had decided to make his den.
“How do you feel about acting on my behalf in the city of Famagusta, Dimitri?” he asked the Greek. His approach was blunt, because Talon was beginning to realize that time was not on his side.
Surprisingly, Dimitri responded well. “Sir Talon, you have been a companion and a leader to me. But for you I would be starving in Acre or some other useless port, drinking myself to death. I will do this, but you will need to teach me,” he paused, then grinned. “You know that many of the Greek slaves whom we released want to stay here?”
“I know,” Talon said. “Some of them can, but there are others who want to go home. Are any of them from Famagusta?”
“No, but, there are four who come from Limassol, which is good in a way, because they won’t be recognized so easily.”
“You know how dangerous this mission could be?” Talon studied the round face of his friend.
Dimitri nodded soberly. “There is excitement, and I like that. I would be bored cooped up here.”
“You should also know that you will have to lie to everyone, have no close relationships, and bribery and corruption are going to be part of your life.”
“Then Famagusta sounds like just the place,” Dimitri chuckled. “How far into the system do you want me to go?”
“As deep as possible, but with great care and patience. It cannot happen overnight. You will have pigeons; use them well. And I shall be around from time to time. You will have your back protected by Reza’s men. You will also receive some training with a knife from Reza himself. You might need it.”
Dimitri recalled the brawls he had taken part in while living as a sailor and said, “I know how to use a knife, Talon.”
“No, Dimitri, you don’t.”
Life in the castle of Kantara settled down to a comfortable routine. Talon, his family, and their followers were able to spend time exploring his new-found property. The villagers were impressed enough to send a delegation to Talon to declare their allegiance. He was invited to a feast, which he dutifully attended, bringing Max, Palladius, and Dimitri along in the hope of gleaning useful information about the castle Kantara and its environs.
Talon asked about the holes in the side of the hill on the other side of the valley. One old man, a village elder called Julian, smiled when asked. “It used to be a copper mine, Lord.” They all insisted upon calling him ‘Lord’ now. “I remember when it was working, I was young at that time, but then there were hard times and we stopped work.”
“Do you think there might still be copper?” Dimitri asked.
“Oh yes, Sir.” The old man’s beard wagged and his eyes twinkled. “I could smell copper then, and I can now. There is work to be done to break through a layer or two, but underneath I am sure there is copper ore. But....” The old man put a finger along his nose. “There is more than copper in there, Lord.”
“What would that be?”
“I smell gold, Lord. Not much, but it is there,” he told the astonished men.
“Did the previous lord of the castle know this?”
A man named John, who was the official leader of the circle of men, answered Talon. “He suspected, but when he asked us we told him that the mine was finished a very long time ago. He was a cruel man and used us as slaves. His wife was a monster, Lord.”
Talon looked around at the men. “Why, what did she do?”
“They pressed our people to do many repairs on the north side in the living chambers,” another replied. Talon remembered seeing mason work on the interior walls of the bailey. He nodded.
“When it was time to pay she refused to, and she had the soldiers throw our masons off the walls!”
Talon was shocked. He glared at Palladius, who looked back at him square in the eye and nodded. “I came back from a day in Famagusta to find that this had happened, Sir Talon,” he said in a low voice. “It is another of the reasons I had to leave those people. They were pigs.”
Talon met the eyes of the men grouped around him. “You have told me of the mines. You honor me. In return, I shall always be fair in my dealings with you. You may count upon that. In time of trouble my castle is your refuge. In good times we shall share the bounty of the land, but you must show me its potential, so that I can see that it is developed.” There were murmurs of appreciation all round after that statement.
“Now about the terrible wine you send up to the castle,” he continued.
To his surprise the villagers nearby began to laugh.
“What was so funny about my last remark?” he demanded of John, who smiled.
“Lord, we have a much better vintage in the valley. We just didn’t want to share it with Lord Dukas.”
It was Talon’s turn to laugh. “I doubt if he would have appreciated it anyway. However, I think I would.”
“Then, Lord, we will show you the vines and be glad to provide you with the good wine,” John said, and led the way.
Talon spent some days with the villagers and visited the fishing villages clustered about the harbor. There was a sense of relief everywhere he went, but also some fear, and men crossed themselves when he was past.
He also insisted on a visit to the mine, if it could be called that. In reality it was a cave set into the mountain upon which Kantara was perched. Standing at the entrance a person could see in a straight line across the valley to the harbor with its one ship. Henry had departed with Boethius for Paphos. Julian told the villagers who had accompanied Talon to remain outside, as he wanted to show Talon the mine on his own. Some twenty paces further in, Talon stood before the blank gray wall and wondered about the usefulness of the place until Julian beckoned to him.
“See, Lord. This is not just a copper mine.” He pointed to a vein of quartz that ran along one wall like an elongated, slender finger. “Inside that rock we will find gold, I can smell it. But that is for later, and others must not know. For now, listen.” He tapped at the end of the shaft, which sounded hollow.
Julian called out a name, and one of the young men came running towards them with a pick in his hand. Talon’s hand crept to his sword, but Julian told the boy in rapid patois to strike the wall ahead of them, which the boy did with one sharp blow. The wall crumbled and rocks fell, exposing a dark hole. Talon had to stop himself from gaping.
“We walled it up when we realized who was our new master and how cruel, Lord. He didn’t deserve to gain from our work after what he did,” Julian explained as the dust settled. He called his other two men to come and help, and after a few minutes of choking on dust and hauling rocks out of the way they had exposed an opening that ran deep into the mountain.
“Lord, see this?” Julian scraped on the side of the opening. “We have copper here. You have a good mine, Lord.” He pointed to the wall of the mine. “Do you see the copper?”
Talon peered at the wall and noticed that there was a mottled look to it. “Is that it?” he enquired, pointing to the blue-green parts.
“Yes Lord. It is a rich vein.”
But Talon had noticed something else. He drew out his knife and scraped at another part of the wall. “What is this stuff?” he asked.
“Oh that! It is just sulphur, Lord. It helps us with the smelting, but otherwise it is not much use.” Talon took a deep breath to not shout out loud with glee.
“On the contrary, it is useful to me, Julian. Where did you put it when you mined it before?”
“We have a large pile of it on the path down the hill, Lord.” Julian said, looking surprised and puzzled.
“Then I have some tasks for you and your people, for which I shall pay, of course,” Talon told him. “I want your people to make charcoal, and I want the very purest of the sulphur to be collected and brought to the castle.”
They discussed th
e other aspects of opening the mine and how they would extract the ore. Some basic crushing tools were needed, and smelting ovens would have to be rebuilt. Julian figured that it would take a month for the village to get the mine and the extraction process going again. Talon told him that he would pay a fair wage in coin for the work done, which seemed to please the men standing around him very much.
Talon wanted to know every detail of the farming in the valley. The tour of the fields and orchards was conducted by John with the assistance of his several sons, who proudly showed him around. The olive groves were mature trees which John assured him were still producing a plentiful crop every year.
“We need to trade. We have ships and can send the olives anywhere that is good for trade,” Talon told the heavy-set villager.
“I have noticed, Lord, that you are well equipped.” John’s response was dry but approving; he grinned through his pepper-and-salt beard, and his blue eyes twinkled. “The ships will be a boon, as we shall save a huge amount of time. Formerly we used to send the crop overland to Famagusta and Paphos. It is a long and arduous journey, and it was difficult, sometimes impossible, to avoid the bandits that prey on travelers in the Trudos Mountains.”
Having seen the rugged coastland from out at sea, Talon had to agree. “Then we can put the ships to good use; the olives are one cargo. Can we make the oil here, too?”
John nodded his head enthusiastically.“Yes, indeed! But we need a better pressing system. Our tools are old and do not make good oil these days, Lord.”
“Make lists of what we need in order to produce very good oil, and what we will need to be able to ship it,” Talon told him.
Detail followed upon detail until his head swirled. Talon returned to the castle exhausted on more than one evening.
“You can’t tell me that running a castle and its holdings is an easy task, Max,” he told his friend, when they were sipping tea with the women and Reza in the smaller living room.
“I am worn out! There is no end to what has to be done. The next thing I know, I will have to adjudicate their problems for them.”
“They will surely ask you to do that, Talon. I hope you are prepared for it,” Max said seriously.
“Indeed you will, my Prince,” Rav’an laughed. “You are the lord of these lands. You will be just and fair; that at least they should be glad of.”
“I have no experience of this kind of thing,” Talon replied.
“You captained the ships and held that band of cut-throats together through a difficult journey to and from China, Talon,” Jannat joined in. “This should be easy for you!”
“You might not know it, but your reputation as a magician is spreading. The way the castle was defended is all they ever talk about, according to my men,” Max told him. “You have become a man of many parts, Talon. You seem, well... to be comfortable with command,” he added as an afterthought.
“Dear Max, he has captained a ship across vast seas and brought us all safely home. Yes, he can command men, but as you have seen, he is still a fox,” Rav’an said, and she, Jannat and Max laughed together.
“Indeed he is, and I forgot to add that you have a very beautiful wife; as are you, Lady Jannat. I am glad and honored to have finally met you. You, Lady Rav’an, were always in his heart.” Max bowed to Rav’an, who smiled fondly at him.
“Max, have you then never had a lady in your heart?” Jannat asked him.
Max reddened with embarrassment. “I cannot say I have, good Lady. My life was always bound to the Templars and my duty.”
“Until they betrayed him,” Talon muttered.
“Then I shall not press you, but I am sure that under different circumstances you would have taken the heart of more than one lady,” Jannat told him confidently.
Max looked as though he would have liked the stones under his feet to open up and swallow him, but it was clear that he was both women’s slave for ever after that.
Talon smiled to himself.
Later in their chamber, he asked Rav’an, “What women thing were you and Jannat practicing on Max this evening, my Love?”
“We were not sure if he was... well, you know, of the other persuasion,” she said as she took off her shift. Her belly was very distended now, as she was in her eighth month. “He is so quiet and—how shall I put it?—self contained. He never looks at a woman. Even the servants are asking about it, because they find him very handsome. Call it mischief, too, if you like. We are very fond of your friend, you know, and would like to see him happy with something more than his duty. Hum, this little fellow is becoming uncomfortable.” She sat down on the edge of the bed next to Talon, who was removing his shirt.
“You are both trouble makers,” Talon smiled. “Handsome, is he? Never thought of Max in that light. I swear if he had not become a soldier for the Templars he would have become a priest. I have been lucky with my friends. He is very dear to me.”
“I can see why you would not desert him, my Talon. He is a true friend.”
He turned to her. “What we need is a physician for you and Jannat. I do not know of anyone within these walls who can fulfill the work needed when your time comes.”
“Perhaps the villagers will have someone. They don’t just drop their children like their goats.”
“How do you know?” Talon asked, as he massaged her back. “They are a pretty rough crowd down there.”
It was not hard to persuade the people of both villages that their goat herders could have a dual function. Now that the danger had seemingly passed, the herders were out in the forests and foothills on either side of the ridge, tending their goats and sheep. Thus the boys and even the girls and old men could spend their time watching for intruders as they followed the random trails that meandered all over the land which Talon now governed.
There had been one awkward moment when the family of the old man slain by Talon’s men nervously came forward along with the boy. John equally nervously nudged them all closer to where Talon was standing.
“They have suffered with the loss of the uncle, Sir Talon,” he said with great respect, clearly wondering what Talon’s reaction might be.
Talon recognized the boy immediately and motioned him closer.
“I regret that we had to kill your uncle, boy. There was little choice. What is your name?”
“It is Êrakas, Sir,” the boy mumbled.
Talon turned to John. “Here is money to help them. Be sure that the boy gets some education, John. I am relying upon you.”
John was clearly very surprised. “Sir Talon. This is too much!”
“Make sure they are cared for. I cannot undo what is done, but at least they do not have to go hungry nor cold.”
One morning, a breathless boy of nine arrived at the gates of the castle and in a high-pitched voice demanded to see either the guard Sergeant or the Lord himself.
Both Talon and Reza arrived to find Sergeant Palladius standing, hands on hips, feet planted wide, listening to a gesticulating boy who was explaining with waving hands what he had seen. Palladius calmed the boy enough to get him to repeat what he had said to Talon.
“We have visitors, Sir Talon,” Palladius warned.
“There are men trying to come up one of the lesser known paths to the south of the main trail, Lord,” the boy panted excitedly.
“How many?” Talon asked him.
The boy showed him five fingers. Talon crouched in front of the boy.
“How far away, boy?”
“About a league, Lord. Grandpa has taken the goats and is hiding, but he is watching them.”
“Are they armed?”
The boy nodded vigorously. “Heavily, Lord. They have spears and shields and swords.”
Talon looked up at Palladius. “Mercenaries?” he asked.
“Seems so, Sir,” Palladius nodded. “Do you want me to take some men and... ?”
“Yes, but I want you to go with Reza and his men. You will be able to understand what is being said by the merc
enaries, but you do as Reza says. These mercenaries do not leave the mountain. That will be a message to whoever sent them.” Talon’s voice was hard. He wondered if Isaac had decided to keep the tribute and attack nevertheless? That kind of treachery was to be expected from a man like that, but they might be acting on their own. He very much wish to know which it was.
He turned to Reza and explained the situation. Reza’s eyes lit up. “I’ll take Yosef, Dar’an, and the others. They need some excitement.” He jerked his thumb at Palladius. “He comes too?”
“Yes, but as translator and adviser under your command, Brother. He might learn something. Bring one prisoner and leave the rest; we’ll take their heads later. They don’t go home. Cover your faces, at all times.”
Reza made an expression that meant, “Of course!” and set off. Not long after, he was leading his men out of the gates. They carried their bows and swords as they jogged off in single file; Talon saw that they had all wrapped their faces in cloth, leaving only their eyes uncovered. Within a few minutes they had disappeared among the trees along the ridge, led by the boy.
Talon watched them go thoughtfully. He needed more than an early warning line for his land. What he needed was some useful people inside the city of Famagusta who could tell him what he needed to know, before it happened. His discussions with Dimitri and Boethius had been intense. Forewarned was forearmed. It was something Hsü might have said.
He turned back to get on with the mountain of other responsibilities that had descended upon his shoulders since he had obtained a castle.
Three hours later, he was informed by a breathless Rostam that Reza and his men were back.
He hastened to the barbican with Rostam, both with their faces covered. Talon did a quick count; none of his men appeared to have been injured, and they were half-dragging a wounded prisoner.
Reza nodded to Talon. “It was as the lad told us. I am sure they were sneaking up the side of the mountain in an attempt to get at the villagers. The prisoner should be able to tell us,” he said in Farsi. Talon turned to Palladius, who looked as though he had had a good day.
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