Assassins of Kantara

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Assassins of Kantara Page 58

by James Boschert


  “What’s this? You never told us about this adventure!” Theodora demanded of Max, who looked uncomfortable.

  “Tell us about it, Max, because Talon surely will not,” Jannat urged him.

  Rostam, hearing that a tale was about to be told, abandoned the game of chess, which he was losing, and eagerly came over, followed by Boethius and his daughter. “Tell us Max!” they all chorused.

  So Max told them all about the shipwreck and the time he and Talon had spent in Egypt. By the time he had finished it was late, but there was little doubt that they had been enthralled.

  “That explains the mystery of the ship that was stolen from Salah Ed Din and how Henry and Guy were freed,” Reza said. “We heard a rumor all the way east in Isfahan. In Alamut they were laughing behind their hands at the discomfort of Rashid Ed Din, whom you tweaked, Talon. Both Rav’an and I did wonder even then if it had been you.”

  “You should tell more about these tales, you men. It passes the long nights away, and we all want to hear of them,” Theodora said.

  “Are we then as the wild warriors from the North who tell stories to while away the long winter nights, their tales becoming wilder and longer with the length of the season?” It was Talon’s turn to tease.

  “No, but we want to hear the real ones, and you men should entertain us,” Jannat sided with Theodora. “It’s music that we need too, I miss that.”

  Rav’an smiled at her. “We can ask Boethius to find us some instruments and make our own music,” she said, then yawned. “It is time for all of us to go to bed. I shall lead the way. I hope that the maid has made a fire in our bed chamber, for I am cold. Those dogs of yours can stay in this chamber tonight, my Talon,” she stated firmly.

  Later that night, as they were preparing for bed she asked him, “Are we safe here, my Talon?”

  His reply was thoughtful. “I do not wish to deceive you, Rav’an, but I cannot be sure. I had thought that Acre would be a safe haven and look how that turned out. From the report given by Jacob, I doubt if anywhere in Palestine will be ‘safe’ before very long. The nobles who do not understand the compromises needed to survive there will tear it apart, and then Salah Ed Din will strike.”

  “So where then?” she asked, with concern in her huge gray eyes. He stroked her thick hair absently, enjoying its silky feel under his hand.

  “From what Boethius told us today, Byzantium is uncertain too. There is hope he says, but only time will tell. Even so, Theodora might want to go back home.”

  Rav’an snorted. “I suspect not.”

  “Why? What do you know that Reza and I do not?” he queried with a chuckle.

  “I suspect that she and Max are becoming close.”

  “Are you serious?” he asked, with a look of feigned surprise.

  “You men are quite blind sometimes. Jannat and I have been watching them. It is very possible. Her boy adores Max.”

  “Isn’t Max...?”

  “You were going to say that he is a little old for her? Love has no boundaries, my husband. Let’s see where it goes. Jannat and I only wish them happiness.”

  “Hmm, so that is indeed the lay of the land,” Talon said, almost to himself. “But... as I was saying. There are few places that can provide the ideal haven, which is why I worked so hard to take this castle. Max gave me the idea, and it seems to have worked.”

  “I cannot fault you for that, my Warrior!” she laughed. “ I can still see Doukas’s face when you told him he had lost it! What a pig!”

  “A castle perched on a peak like this is safer than, say, living in a port town like Paphos, despite the advantages of a town and market. There we would be at the mercy of anyone, including pirates. This emperor is as mad as his late uncle and just as dangerous.”

  “And does he not now have this monster, whom you know called... the one Theo fears so much?”

  “Pantoleon, yes. I might have miscalculated there. Reza and I talk about how to deal with him almost every day. He brings an evil dimension to the situation on the island. But I don’t think he will attempt to harm us. Not yet anyway,” Talon told her, rubbing his bearded face thoughtfully. “One day there will be a reckoning, however. He will not die an old man.”

  She looked at him with her head slightly to one side in the flickering light of the candles and reached out to touch his face gently. “I don’t doubt that,” she whispered. “But I know that you carry a great responsibility on your shoulders. For that I love you.”

  Abruptly she smiled and said, “You do look like a pirate, you know: it’s that small scar under your right eye. Are you sure that you don’t want to stay at sea, pillaging and... what is the other thing pirates do?”

  He reached for her and forced her gently back onto the bed. “Pirates are terrible people, but if you insist, I can show you?” he growled.

  She laughed and kissed him, a long deep kiss, then reached over and snuffed out the candle.

  The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain

  A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,

  When for a moment, like a drop of rain,

  He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,

  Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

  —Lord Byron

  Chapter 34

  1187

  The Terror

  The Terror had begun, and the island, already cowed by the avaricious behavior of the emperor, groaned in anguish. Tales reached Talon from Dimitri of the tortures that took place in the dungeons of the emperor’s palace, where it was said the new man in charge of procuring information did his awful work. Pantoleon was in his element, and he began with the nobility.

  The first victims were the hostages, who were readily available for his sadistic practices. He started on the youths, who were the sons of the notables of the island. His pretext was that he wanted information. Pantoleon had his men visit every city and bring back in chains anyone who even looked like they were contemplating sedition. Inevitably, there were those among the population who were happy to denounce others against whom they had a grudge.

  This suited him very well because he was not so interested in the intelligence as in the act of torture. Before long, revolution was being whispered about in dark hallways as grieving families lost relatives to the bloody maw of the dungeons of Famagusta. Their screams could be heard around the palace, and even the emperor began to find it distasteful.

  Tamura was horrified and stunned. Pantoleon had initiated a clandestine affair with her which had been a disaster. Her shock at discovering his disfigurement had been impossible to conceal from a man who was hyper-sensitive about the subject. She had recovered her composure very quickly and continued to encourage him. His malaise, however, was too deep for even a seductress like her to overcome. He had become almost violent, then had left her with barely a word. She had lain there looking up at the ceiling, a cold block of ice within her belly.

  Thereafter he kept his distance, and she gradually came to realize that, in fact, he didn’t really need her at all. Rashly she accosted him one day and demanded that he come and visit her.

  “Why, my Lord, do you not visit me? I yearn for the chance to be in your arms. Surely you need me as much as I do you?” she whispered enticingly.

  He turned on her with a savage snarl, made all the more terrifying by his disfigured face, and said, “I am not interested in the emperor’s seconds, my Lady. You would do well to remember that it is not I who need you, but the other way around!”

  This had left her shocked and subdued. One thing was certain: she no longer had a powerful ally to whom she could turn. There was no telling when this sadistic monster would tear at her. She realized that there was no one to turn to and again felt quite alone. A tear slid down her cheek.

  One day, a lookout on the walls of the castle called to Palladius that he could see horsemen coming up the track towards the castle. They halted at the level space, designated Trebuchet Flat, and paused. The warning signs were clear.
Skulls were placed on poles either side of the road and a large notice told visitors to stay where they were and not continue on pain of death. So they waited.

  Inside the castle, Talon and Reza were alerted. They had been down in the dungeons mixing more of their Chinese powder when the news came.

  “How many are there?” Talon asked Palladius.

  “I see six of them, Sir Talon. It’s difficult to tell, but they seem to be more than just soldiers.”

  “Come on, Reza: let’s take a look at these people and see what they want.”

  Leaving Max in charge of the fort and taking four of the companions, they rode out of the castle and down the track to stop in front of the nervous-looking travelers.

  As Palladius had observed, they were not of the common cut normally associated with soldiers. They looked more like travel-worn men of means. These men in turn regarded with real apprehension the heavily armed men on horseback from the castle who had their heads and faces covered up to their eyes. This mask alone lent a menacing aspect to the visitors.

  “We come in peace,” a man who appeared to be their spokesman said, looking very nervous. “We wish to talk to Sir... Lord Talon.”

  “Who are you and what is your business here?” Reza demanded. “We will talk here.”

  “We are nobles from Kyrenia, Larnaca and Limassol.”

  Their spokesman rattled off a the names of his companions, then said, “We have come to see Lord Talon, to plead for his help against the emperor, who is destroying our children and our people.”

  “What help would that be?”

  “You people defeated the army of the emperor once. You can do it again using your... magic,” another interjected. “We have had enough!”

  “Isaac does not disturb us up here.”

  “He issues decrees that no one can understand, not even his own damned eunuchs; his mercenaries enforce what they think they understand...” the man waved his hands about in utter frustration. “It is creating a terrible confusion. No one knows what is going on nor what is going to happen next. It is very very bad for trade.” His companions murmured their agreement.

  Another interjected, “His mercenaries murder our people, and we know that monster of his, Exazenos, is behind it all,” he said, raising his voice. “He kills for pleasure. He kills our sons, who the emperor took as hostages! The emperor is a monster, but this man is the devil himself.”

  Talon and Reza were silent. “I want to leave them some hope, but I shall not agree to anything,” Talon said to Reza in Farsi.

  “Perhaps it is time we did something,” Reza replied in kind.

  The visitors had begun to talk amongst themselves; the discussion was animated and sounded to Talon as though they despaired. Talon raised his hand off the pommel of his saddle to get their attention.

  “We will take this message back to our leader, who will decide what should be done.”

  “Is that all you can offer?” one of the men almost shouted. “Then I, for one, will take matters into my own hands and raise an army!”

  The man’s tone was one of defiance borne of despair, but Talon was not going to provide them with an excuse for rash and dangerous action.

  “So you expect to defeat the man who landed on this island a year ago and took every single one of your cities with a few hundred mercenaries, do you?”

  The riders exchanged glances.

  “Well, do you?” he demanded loudly. His words were met with embarrassed silence. These men were all too aware that they lacked fighting men of similar caliber to those of the emperor.

  “We’ll bring in mercenaries,” the same man muttered.

  “With what? You are all broke. He has stolen all your gold.”

  “We are desperate people. Tell Sir Talon that!” shouted the agitated man. “Even if it means death, it is better than what the foul emperor has made of this island.”

  “I shall tell him, have no fear of that. But I want you to go home and stay there. Be patient a little longer. We will see what can be done, but only on Sir Talon’s terms. Do I make myself clear?” Talon barked at the cowed men facing him. They nodded in silence, turned their horses and walked off down the path.

  “I have rarely seen such a dejected group of people,” Reza remarked as they watched them leave.

  Talon nodded. “It took a great deal of courage for them to come here. If word got out, their hostages would be tortured to death and they themselves hunted down. I gave them scant comfort.”

  “Come, let’s go back and discuss this with our family.”

  As they rode back to the castle, Palladius rode alongside Reza and Talon. “Is there nothing we can do for them, Sir Talon? They sound desperate.”

  “They are desperate, Sergeant. But we cannot just charge down the hill and try to take the palace. There has to be a way to take Pantoleon out separately. That has to be carefully considered.”

  “I understand, Sir Talon.” Palladius sounded chastened.

  “Your concern is commendable Sergeant. Max tells me good things about you,” Talon told him, which cheered him up considerably.

  That evening, when the castle had quieted and Damian was in bed, they talked about the visit. Present were Max, now seated close to Theodora, Rav’an and Jannat and Rostam as well as Boethius and Jacob, who were still with them because of the winter storms that had swept in. Then there were Yosef and Dar’an. Talon had closed the door and posted a guard outside to ensure that no one could eavesdrop on their conversation.

  Talon described the meeting with the visitors and what they had asked of him. “In all our dealings with them, we must at all times have our faces covered. That achieves two things. One, they do not recognize us whenever we are among them, which will be necessary from time to time, but also it puts them in fear of us.”

  “I had wondered how long it would take them to come to you, Talon,” said Boethius. “This emperor is a despot, and he now has a monster working for him who is never so gleeful as when he is inflicting pain.”

  “That is why we must find a way to destroy him,” Talon said to the room at large.

  “Could you not go into the palace and kill him while he slept?” Rav’an said.

  She received shocked looks from Boethius and Jacob; even Theodora gave Talon a sharp look. None of them really knew the full range of skills that Reza and Talon possessed.

  Talon nodded. “That would be the preferred method, I agree,” he responded. “But... I have the feeling that the palace will be a very difficult place to access since that incident with the leopards. I would not like to risk it. No, Pantoleon will not be easy to get to.”

  “Then what does that leave us with?” Reza demanded.

  “I council patience for the time being,” Talon said. “I received an interesting note from Dimitri some time ago, telling me that many chests of a small kind were loaded onto Pantoleon’s ship.”

  “What does it have to do with us?” Max asked.

  “I think it is his treasure, so it means that he does not trust the emperor any more than I do. Dimitri also told me that, according to his source inside the palace, Pantoleon travels from city to city. Using the vessel as a kind of moving base, he is spreading terror all over and then sailing on. He feels very secure on his ship, it seems.”

  “You mean that he is moving about too much to be surprised by anyone?” Theodora interjected.

  “You should always be on my councils, Theo!” Talon smiled. “Yes, and furthermore, very difficult to visit in the dead of night.”

  “So how... ?”

  “As I said, patience. We will not be dancing to the tune of those nobles but our own. We have two ships, Pantoleon has one. One day we will know where he is going and there we will meet him.”

  “How will you know?” Jacob asked him.

  Talon smiled. “That is why we have people like Boethius and Dimitri working with us.”

  “This could take a while,” said Reza. “But I, for one, am looking forward to concluding o
ur business with the man.”

  “May God further your mission,” said Theodora with feeling. It did not go unnoticed by all that she reached out and gripped Max by his wrist when she said that.

  There was another surprise to come two days later. Again the alert sentry on the wall noticed and called down to Palladius, who was busy loudly berating one of his young soldiers for some sin or other. “One rider stopped at the Trebuchet Flat, Sergeant!” he shouted.

  Palladius immediately notified Talon, who came and joined him on the wall. Looking down, he saw a lone horseman who had dismounted on the flat.

  “Send two men down and bring him into the barbican,” Talon ordered.

  The rider turned out to be an old man dressed in rich traveling clothes. He looked decidedly nervous but grimly determined. Talon greeted him, with Reza, Max and Palladius in attendance. All the men had their faces covered. Boethius had been told to make himself scarce, in case he was recognized.

  “Please be seated.” Talon gestured to a chair next to a table laden with food. “You must be tired and hungry after your journey.”

  The man staggered to the chair and almost fell into it, mopping his brow as he did so. “I thank you for your hospitality, Sir,” he said, as he helped himself to some water. “Your greeting down the hill is a little less welcoming.” He was referring to the skulls of men and horses that lined the road.

  “The display helps to keep the curious away. When you have quenched your thirst, perhaps you would like some wine?” Talon offered, as he took a seat opposite the old man.

  His companions stood by, watching in silence. Their visitor looked bewildered for a moment, but then he relaxed; even in this menacing presence the people were behaving in a civilized manner. His hopes went up a notch.

  “I thank you for your courtesy, Sir, and indeed I would welcome a glass,” he said. He took a cautious sip of the wine, looked startled, and then beamed. “Yes, it is quite good!” He looked across at the covered face in front of him and noticed the green eyes studying him.

 

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