“Can any of you sail this ship without Captain Guy and at night?” he asked in a whisper.
Hands went up and one man, the steering man, whispered, “I can sail it. But where is Captain Guy?”
“They took him off the ship while you were all below,” Reza answered. “Now listen, this is what I want you to do.” After he had explained he told them, “Clean up the mess in the after cabin and at the back only when you are well out to sea, before you arrive at our harbor. Be sure to tell Lord Talon what has happened.”
Within half an hour Reza was ashore with his weapons, and the pigeons were on the ground nearby. Guy’s ship was stealthily making its way out of the harbor. He expected it would be challenged, but the guards here were so slack that there were no calls. He watched until he could no longer distinguish its dark form out at sea, then picked up the crate and began the walk to the darkened city.
Dimitri was woken again at another unearthly hour by one of his guards. “Wake up, wake up, Dimitri. Someone is here to see you!” the guard chanted. Exhausted with worry and bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, Dimitri staggered out of bed and followed the guard. Then he gasped with surprise. He had never been so happy to see Reza in his life. After embracing him with great emotion he said, “I have been worried! My men reported the arrest of Captain Guy and there was nothing we could do about it! We thought Talon might have been on board with Guy. The beggars told me the bastards were looking for another man.”
“I came instead, and yes, they were searching for me but I avoided them,” Reza grinned. He now wore dry clothes, having changed before he left the ship. “Do you know where they might have taken Guy? The palace dungeons, perhaps? We must waste no time getting him back. They will certainly torture him.”
“Oh yes, but not to the palace dungeons. Those were Pantoleon’s men and they will have taken Guy to his villa,” Dimitri said confidently.
“You have a new supply of messengers,” Reza informed him. “The ship is on its way home, and the sailors will tell Talon what has happened. He will know what to do.”
Dimitri gaped. “How in God’s name is that possible?” he demanded. “The ship was seized! Didn’t they post guards?”
“Well, yes they did, but if you can see your way to feeding me some sardines with some good bread, olives, a little cheese perhaps and some decent wine, I shall tell you, my friend. I am very hungry.”
“Your will be done!” Dimitri beamed.
Treacherous time has put me in prison
Where I’ve chirped away like a bird in a snare.
How pure and fine my inspiration
Is and was and will be there.
—Todros Abulafia
Chapter 29
Prison
All during the row over the water Guy struggled against his bonds, and he raged when he was brought before Nigel. “Nigel! What in God’s name are you doing here? What is the meaning of this?” he shouted at his former friend.
Nigel, looking very uncomfortable, shrugged and stepped aside without a word as Guy was dragged off.
“You traitor! Nigel! If I ever get my hands on you I’ll break you in two!”
Guy roared abuse at his captors and fought as they wrestled him off the boat. In the end one of them clouted him with a cudgel that dazed him enough so that they could throw a flour sack over his head and drag him off the pier.
Upon arrival at the villa he was bundled down the back stairs to a makeshift cell and shoved none too gently into the bare room. The thick wooden door was slammed and he was left in the dark with the sack still over his head. He tried to work his bonds loose but they had been well tied. All Guy could do was to blunder into the walls. Finally he sat down and contemplated his situation.
So it had been Nigel, and he worked for either the emperor or for the fellow that Talon called Pantoleon. Guy didn’t know which, but he was beginning to think that it might be the latter, as this kidnapping had been furtive. He leaned back against the wall, wondering if Reza had escaped and reached Dimitri. Guy had no idea where Dimitri lived, so even if he did escape, which seemed unlikely, he wouldn’t know where to go. He finally managed to work the sack off his head and stared around him in the dark. As his eyes became accustomed to the gloom he began to see more. It was windowless, and there was not even a bed on the earthen floor. There was nothing he could do, so he settled back against the cool stone wall and tried to rest.
On being informed that the captain of the ship had been captured but there had been no sign of any man matching Talon’s description, Pantoleon was coldly angry. “Did you search the boat from top to bottom? Are you sure there was no one else?” he demanded of Gabros. “Why would the captain come on his own?”
Gabros shook his head. “I cannot say, Master. Nigel pointed out the boat and we went over and arrested this man. Nigel calls him Guy, and he is certainly one of Talon’s captains. They knew each other well before—”
“Yes, yes I know,” Pantoleon snarled. He was livid. His chance of proving to the emperor that he had better intelligence and could act on it was lost. Talon had either anticipated him, which he doubted, or had simply decided not to come on this particular trip. That left Pantoleon with only half of what he wanted.
He felt the prickle of a premonition. Was this Talon prescient after all? Had he somehow known and not come? He shook his head. No, there had to be another explanation.
“Go and get the prisoner and bring him to me. Better still, we will pay him a visit,” he said.
Gabros nodded vigorously. “Right away, Master.”
Pantoleon led the way down to the cellar. The guards slammed the door open and rushed in to seize Guy by the arms. They hauled him to his feet and dragged him towards the doorway, where they forced him to his knees. It wasn’t easy; Guy resisted all the way, earning himself more bruises from blows and kicks. Finally he was kneeling before Pantoleon, who filled the doorway.
“Why did you come to Famagusta? Who was with you and where is he now?” Pantoleon demanded.
“Why don’t you go and eat goat shit?” Guy responded.
Gabros hammered his ribs with a thick stick, then smacked him on his forehead, breaking his nose.
“More respect from you!” he said to Guy, who was now lying on the floor, bleeding from mouth and nose and grunting with pain. They hauled him upright to his knees again.
“I shall repeat the question,” Pantoleon said, his tone calm. “We have, after all, much time to become acquainted.”
“Who came with you to Famagusta?”
“My crew, of course. How else could I get here?” Guy mumbled through a badly bruised jaw.
There was no further conversation for a few very long moments while they beat Guy almost senseless. The only sound in the room were the thuds of the clubs and his gasps and grunts of pain. By the time they had finished he was lying on his side.
“You should really consider your predicament, Captain Guy. No one knows where you are, and no one can help you now. Tell me what I need to know and I can allow you to go free,” Pantoleon informed him gently. “Give him some water,” he commanded.
Guy, who was barely conscious, didn’t respond. Water being dashed over his bloody face woke him up. He groaned and shook his head, then spat out some blood and a tooth. He didn’t try to sit up, he doubted if he could. He opened his eyes to see Pantoleon’s face close to his.
“Someone came with you to Famagusta. A passenger. Who was it? Was it Talon?” Pantoleon insisted.
“Tal... Talon didn’t come this time. Sent me alone to deliver oil,” Guy muttered, and then passed out.
Pantoleon crouched next to Guy, staring down at him in disgust.
“Does he really expect me to believe that nonsense? We are going to have to be more refined, I think,” he told Gabros.
Just at that moment Nigel came hurrying down the steps to the cellars. “Master, there is a messenger at the door demanding to see you,” he said.
Pantoleon stood up. “Very well, leav
e him.” He nudged Guy with his foot. “We’ll deal with him later. There is time.”
He paid no attention to the shocked look on Nigel’s face when he saw the condition of his erstwhile friend. Gabros led the way out of the cellar to the main living area, where a servant in gaudy clothes from the palace waited impatiently.
The man looked down his huge nose at the arrivals and said, “My Lord his Majesty requires your presence without delay.” There was no mistaking his haughty tone and condescending attitude. Pantoleon was tempted to beat the man to death there and then. However, he controlled his anger and said evenly, “Take us there now.” Turning to Gabros he said, “We’ll get back to that ship’s captain tomorrow. He can stew while he waits.”
Pantoleon was admitted by the same surly guards who had been at the palace before. He surrendered his sword to a servant at the door and was kept waiting a long time. “So much for ‘without delay,’” he fumed to himself. At last the old man called Diocles appeared and, after a perfunctory greeting, led Pantoleon down long corridors into the depths of the meandering palace. Pantoleon followed, ever watchful, as the old man shuffled up to the same doorway where he had been before; there were guards standing outside. They opened the doors and admitted the courtier and the spy.
The emperor was standing by his table, which was still strewn with papers. Nothing much appeared to have been moved since the last visit. Pantoleon prostrated himself.
“Ah, Exazenos. No more need for that! Get up and come over here,” the emperor said from near the window.
Pantoleon stood up, brushed off his coat and walked carefully over to join the emperor and his Gatherer of Information, who stood off to the side, glowering at him. Pantoleon gave Malakis a cold stare. “Your time will come,” he thought, as he tilted his head respectfully to the emperor.
“Your Majesty sent for me?” he said in tones of deepest respect.
Isaac beamed at him, clearly in a good mood this afternoon. “I am going to Paphos tomorrow, and I want you to come with me.”
Pantoleon blinked. “What, may I ask, is the purpose of this visit, Your Majesty?”
“Why, to check in on my cities of course, to make sure the nobles are behaving and to whip them into line if they are even contemplating sedition!” Isaac laughed. “You will be able to see each of the cities as we visit them. It will take about two weeks, and then we come home.”
“This is... very short notice, Your Majesty, but I shall leave the palace at once and prepare,” Pantoleon said, bowing his head and thinking furiously.
“Surely you knew that you would have to visit the towns sooner or later?” Isaac asked him with some asperity in his tone.
“Of course, your Majesty. I was preparing for this honor but it came upon me sooner than even I expected. Is there a problem in one of the cities?” Pantoleon wanted to divert the emperor off this particular track.
Isaac looked at him. “You are perceptive, Exazenos. As a matter of fact, there is a problem. Some Arab pirates decided to make a nuisance of themselves off the coast near the town of Limassol. We will be going there with some cavalry. My second in command Julian is somewhat new to the job. His predecessor got himself killed not long ago. Careless of him, but now Julian is coming along nicely and I want to support him.”
“I see, Majesty. May I ask if Malakis will be accompanying us?”
“No. You are dismissed, Exazenos. At first light we leave. Be ready.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
He bowed himself out. As Diocles was about to follow, Isaac called out, “Let Exazenos go, old man. I need to talk to you. The Lady—”
Pantoleon didn’t hear any more, as the guards shut the doors. He slowly retraced his steps towards the main entrance. At some point along the gloomy corridors he became aware of a woman standing in the corridor ahead of him. It was Tamura, veiled and cloaked.
He paused and looked behind him. There was no apparent danger, so he continued to walk slowly towards where she stood in shadow.
“My Lady,” he murmured as he drew close.
“My Lord,” she responded. “Come, I must talk to you.” She beckoned him to follow. With his hand on his hidden dagger Pantoleon allowed himself to be drawn into a small darkened room with closed shutters.
She shut the door behind them, then sighed as though deeply distressed.
Alert for any danger but also intrigued by this stealthy behavior, Pantoleon allowed her to come closer.
“My Lady, what is the matter? You sound unhappy.” He kept his voice down.
Another sigh, and now she was very close to him. He was keenly aware of her scent of rose petals, but still wary. What was she doing?
“I need help, Exazenos. I need the strength of a real man who can save me from my fate,” she whispered, her breath on his cheek. He did not flinch, knowing that to do so would destroy a fragile form of trust she was offering him.
“If there is anything I can do for my Lady, you have but to ask,” he whispered back.
“It’s... it’s the emperor.” She leaned in and kissed him.
At first Pantoleon feared her actions might be part of a trap, but then he remembered the look of malevolence he had seen Malakis direct at the veiled lady. As her soft lips remained on his he leaned into the kiss and returned it. For a long moment there was silence, other than their breathing and the eager workings of her tongue, but then she stepped back and whispered.
“I am but a woman, but he, that loathsome man…. ”
He stared at her. So this was how it was!
“I sense,” she whispered hesitantly as though not sure if she could trust him, “I sense in you a man who is strong and wise and... capable of, of ruling,” she said, almost so quietly that he was barely sure of what he heard.
Pantoleon was frantically adjusting to the situation. His thoughts flashed back to the two times she had dropped her veil to let him see her face.
“My Lady, I am here to serve you, in any way I can,” he whispered back, beginning to feel an interesting stirring.
He leaned forward to take another kiss as though to seal their pact. Instead she came into his arms and pressed her hips against him. Pantoleon was aroused, and there was no doubt that she could feel him pressed against her. He heard her sigh into his shoulder as though satisfied, or with pleasure, he could not tell. She kissed him hard, her tongue seeking his, and then her hand reached down to take him. Pantoleon almost panicked. He swiftly reached down and took her wrist and prevented it from moving.
“I want you, I want you now, my Exazenos!” she whispered fiercely.
“All in good time, my Lady. Here is not a good place, nor is it the time right. There will be a more propitious occasion when I return, and we shall enjoy it all the more for waiting.”
“Oh yes, you are accompanying my master to Limassol and the other cities.” She nodded in the gloom. “I asked if I could stay behind this time. Then it is goodbye for now. We can talk more when you come back. Word is that your people arrested someone today. Is it true?” Another kiss burned on his throat.
Pantoleon was surprised. Rumors certainly traveled fast. “Yes, he is one of the captains belonging to that man on the mountain the emperor appears to hate so much.”
“Indeed he does!” she whispered. “My, but you don’t waste time!” she exclaimed, and she was gone.
Pantoleon dabbed at the sweat that had formed on his forehead and eased himself out of the room. Glancing up and down the corridor, he hastened to leave the palace.
Unbeknownst to him, one of the servants who worked at the palace noticed him leaving the room just after the Lady Tamura and reported it to Malakis.
Pantoleon arrived back at the villa in a high state of excitement and called for Gabros, who clumped in and waited expectantly.
“I am ordered by the emperor to attend his visit to Paphos. That means you will be in charge here while I am gone. I want you to find out more from that captain, and bring some of the crew in for questioning. Perh
aps they will be more willing to talk,” he told his man. “Don’t waste time with niceties, get anything you can from them.”
Gabros nodded. “I’ll go myself to the ship in the morning, Master.”
“Good, and make sure that Nigel is present so that they know he is with us. It might help them to remember,” Pantoleon said. “One last thing, Gabros.”
“Yes Master?”
“The emperor is leaving his master of spies behind.” Pantoleon’s tone was sarcastic. “Be careful. I don’t trust that dog turd at all. Remember what it iss that we have to protect.”
“Fear not, Master. We will be vigilant,” Gabros assured him.
“I am going to find out more about Isaac’s other resources. Have you been able to assess his men at arms yet?”
“Yes, they are a miserable bunch of misfits and thugs with one or two halfway decent soldiers among them. I do not think they will present too much trouble, Master.”
“Good. Who do we have who can get into the palace without being caught?”
“Nesto is a born assassin. He comes from the same group that used to work for your father. Very good at what he does.”
“He had better be,” Pantoleon said between his teeth. “I don’t want any hint of suspicion of our presence,” he said. “I want him to find out where the ladies’ rooms are and where Malakis lives in the palace. Have him do so before I get back.”
Dismissing Gabros, Pantoleon tool stock of events. He certainly had not expected the woman to seek him out so directly, but now that she had, he pondered how he could take advantage of it. He words had been... suggestive at more than one level.
Back at the palace Tamura was also thinking hard. She had been astonished at how free Exazenos had been with his information. She decided it must have been the shock of her coming on to him in the manner she had. It had worked sufficiently for her to glean information for her shadowy spy in the city.
She still didn’t know names, but by now she was sure the spy worked for the strange man on the mountain who had humiliated Isaac. If that was indeed the case then she was happy to pass along anything useful. He could do with it as he willed. Siranus was despatched post haste to a pre-arranged meeting place where a beggar was always lurking about.
Assassins of Kantara Page 48