Greek Fire

by James Boschert

“What in God’s name are you talking about?” he demanded.

  “I find it terrible that whoever it is that is doing so is coming inside our house to spy on her in her own room! How could you?” she cried, anger replacing fear at that moment. Instantly, she regretted her impulsiveness.

  He looked at her in complete puzzlement. “I have not given orders for anyone to go to your house, other than in the street to watch over your sister, for her protection you understand,” he said.

  “Someone is disobeying your orders, Senator,” she told him icily. “If it happens again I will tell my brother and father. I am tempted to do so even now. I am disgusted that one of your…your assassins has been doing this!”

  “You need not fear for that, young lady. I shall be dealing with it sooner than you think,” the senator said in a low tone. His face and neck were red with anger.

  She got up to go and he patted her on the shoulder as she went past him. “Fear not, my dear, all will be well.”

  She nodded in mute acceptance of his words, almost cringing at his touch, but she was still seething with anger and her breath came in short bursts. She stumbled out of the library following Markos.

  When Markos came back, Senator Spartenos sent for Choumnos. He arrived with an attentive expression on his face, the only indication that he had suffered an accident those several weeks ago was a small scab on his cheek. The expression on the senator’s face was difficult to read but it made Choumnos nervous to look at him.

  “Follow her quickly and dispose of her. Make it look like vagabonds or footpads robbed her and killed her. She has become a danger.” The senator paused then said, “On second thought, send Psellos with her. Tell him to do it quickly and to make no noise. When he gets back I wish to see him. Did you know he has been going into that house over there?”

  Choumnos eyes went wide. “No, senator, not at all. But…he did come back very late the other night and I wondered about where he had been.”

  “I cannot have a man like that jeopardizing our ventures with his rampant desires. You will deal with him when he gets back. I will not have it!” the senator said between clenched teeth.

  Choumnos hurried off to find Psellos, whose eyes lit up at the prospect of doing his master’s business. He leered at Choumnos, his pock-marked face distorted, and licked his lips. “She is a tasty bit, that one. Not your day, my friend, I suppose he wanted someone who could do it properly.”

  Choumnos stepped in closer, his eyes inches from those of Psellos. He said in a very low, menacing voice, “Hear me well, you scum. You will kill her and then get your sorry carcass back here. Do you hear me? This is not a real assassin’s work. This is a job for a boy! I know more than you think. It is to be done quickly—quickly, do you understand? And no one, no one at all must see this; if they do I shall do to you what you intend to do to the girl. Do you hear me?”

  Psellos grunted and glared at him. “All right, all right. But you hear me, Choumnos! You might be cock of the hoop for now, but just wait,” he snarled. Choumnos turned away with an obscene gesture. Psellos did not dare to give one back. Choumnos did not have his reputation for nothing. Psellos hurried out of the building into the rain.

  *****

  When Choumnos had departed to pass the message to Psellos, the senator tried to bring the turmoil of his thoughts under control.

  If the information was true then they must either move very fast and get the Cilicians into place or call it off, as the whole plan was on the edge of ruin. Had those cursed Arabs betrayed them? He had known that Saieed Fakhouri was a devious man to deal with. He was, after all, almost a pirate, but the present of the fire had surely been enough to make the man keep his word? What would the prince want him to do?

  They were so close! But it could all fall in on itself unless he could move very fast. It was late night and raining. How was he to get his messengers to the vital points in time? His features hardened into a bitter mask. He remembered his son and the huge potential the boy had had until his life was wasted. He decided that he would deal with the girl first, then send some of his men into the Kalothesos villa to deal with all of them—including the meddling Templar—while he concentrated on the larger issues now confronting him.

  Then without warning a wave of white-hot rage and grief washed over him. He snatched up a small porcelain vase and hurled it with great force at the wall, where it shattered into many small pieces that flew in all directions to scatter on the tiled floor. Markos, standing just outside the door, shrank from this rare display of anger and tried to become invisible.

  *****

  Talon was looking for Guy when he came out of the stables and walked over to him while chewing on a chicken bone.

  “Hello Sir Talon. I was just walking about admiring this palace where your friends live. It is beautiful! I could live handsomely in the stables alone!” he exclaimed. There was awe in his tone. Then he said, “When can we leave? I want to go to the inn as soon as possible and take a bath.”

  Talon laughed out loud. “My goodness, Guy, You have changed since you came here! What have those women in the whorehouses done to you?”

  “Well…you know. They just…prefer.” He did not finish. Talon clapped him on the shoulder and laughed again. “I do not want to know, my friend. Just wait here for a while longer. I have a task for you to perform along the way back to the inn. I want you to go at once to the gates of the Great Palace and pass this letter to the Varangian guards at the doors. Can you do this for me?’

  Guy nodded. “Of course, right away. Will I see you at the quayside tomorrow, Talon?”

  “You will indeed, Guy.”

  Guy hesitated and then said, “You know, Talon, even the maids in this palace are beautiful beyond words. One went by earlier and left by the gate. She was in a hurry but I did get a glimpse of her face.” He brought two fingers and his thumb to his lips and made a kissing sound.

  Talon was barely interested. “How long ago was that?” he asked, puzzled that anyone, least of all a maid, would want to be out in this foul weather.

  “About half an hour or so. Strange to send a girl unattended on an errand, and in this rain, too.”

  A tiny alarm bell rang in Talon’s head. “Wait here for a moment, Guy. Where are the other two men?”

  “Still eating, I suppose.”

  “Find them now and send one of them off with the message at once, and then come to the main entrance, Guy.”

  He strode off back into the main building where he encountered Theodora, whose eyes lit up at the sight of him. “Talon! I have been looking all over for you!” she said accusingly. “You are not contemplating leaving, not at this time of the evening or in this weather, are you?” she demanded.

  “No, Theodora, I am not. But you will remember the...odd event that happened some weeks ago?”

  “Of course I do. I am thinking that perhaps it might have something to do with what you have been telling us. Do you really believe that…the senator might be involved, Talon?” she asked breathlessly her eyes wide.

  Talon looked at her. “Do you know where Eugenia might be, Theodora?”

  “In her room, I suppose. What has she got to do with anything?” her tone had changed to become just a little petulant.

  “Theodora, it might be important. Just find her for me?”

  He waited in the anteroom while Theodora left to find her sister, but soon she came back with news from the maid who had told her that Eugenia had gone out.

  “In this weather?” Talon asked.

  “I think that is very odd. She hates getting wet and I find it very strange that she would go out into this mucky stuff,” Theodora said, sounding puzzled. “Why do you want to talk to her, Talon?”

  “I will tell you later,” he told her. “For the moment, please stay here in the house. I should be back within a few minutes.”

  He left the house in a hurry and made his way down the short road to the gates, where his suspicions were confirmed. The guards reported th
at Eugenia had left over half an hour ago and turned right at the roadway.

  It was getting darker by the minute as he hastened down the road, retracing his path from the previous time he had come from the other villa. The various houses along the way had torches in sconces set into the walls near to their gates, which illuminated the road after a fashion, causing the dark shadows of the swaying trees to dance and move in their flickering light. The wind had picked up and its loud soughing through the remaining leaves on the plane trees muffled the sound of his boots on the flagstones of the street. The rain pelted down, causing the torches to hiss and splutter, but he could still see about a hundred paces ahead of him, and this was when he noticed someone coming in his direction.

  The figure was that of a woman who was about seventy paces away. He could make out that she was dressed in a large voluminous cloak and a hood that partially covered her head. The wind was blowing her skirts about her legs and her hair had broken loose of the hood and was streaming about her pale face making her look like a phantom.

  But then without warning the figure staggered and fell forward. With a short grunt of surprise Talon started, thinking she might have tripped over her cloak. But the figure did not get up. Instead she emitted a cry of agony and rolled onto her side, her arm behind her trying to reach something in her back. As he raced toward the figure on the ground, his heart in his mouth, Talon now recognized the contorted features as the woman moaned and struggled with the shaft that protruded from her back; there was a dark stain forming around the shaft. He realized with a cold certainty that it was Eugenia and someone had just shot her with a crossbow bolt.

  Talon went to one knee beside her on the wet street.

  “Ah, Talon…I am…sorry,” she gasped. She tried to rise, but then slumped face down onto the pavement, the arrow protruding from her back.

  He was very lucky, for just as he bent to touch Eugenia, who lay limp on the road, he heard the hum of a bolt go overhead. Had he remained upright he would have joined Eugenia on the ground. She was mortally wounded.

  His instincts took over and he whipped out his sword, staring hard at the shadows from where she had come, every nerve screaming, crouched and alert for more danger. He knew he had only a few moments before another bolt came his way. His eyes pierced the rain ahead, desperate to find where the assassin was located, and then he noticed a movement. He had no choice but to abandon Eugenia and charge at the flicker of movement praying that he was not mistaken.

  Someone in the darkness gave a short harsh laugh and a cross bow flew out of the shadow, rotating as it flew at Talon’s head. He dodged to the side, but the cumbersome weapon still struck him a glancing blow on the right shoulder before it clattered to the stones behind him, and as it did a tall, bare headed man carrying a long sword stepped out of the darkness. He carried himself in a half crouch and he seemed very confident as he came towards Talon. By the light of the nearby torches Talon could see he was grinning.

  “What have we here then?” he grated, as though talking to himself. “A boy with a sword, indeed? Pity you were there to see this…pedestrian casualty, but that is just too bad.”

  He finished with a large step forward and a mighty swing with the sword. Talon evaded the blow easily and slipped back a pace to gain some room away from the walls nearby. They both heard a piercing scream behind them. Talon danced back from a savage thrust and then threw a rapid glance behind him. Even his opponent paused for a moment to look to where the sound had come from. Talon recognized the voice. It was that of Theodora; she must have followed him out of the gate, and now she was crouched over her sister wailing with fear and grief.

  Theodora lifted her head and screamed again, but Talon had no time to console her. His shadowed opponent was coming at him again and this time seemed determined to finish it quickly. The sword no longer came at him with wild swings but with the controlled hand of someone who knew how to use it. Talon was using the sword he had received from Aarif. He hoped that the Damascus steel would withstand the clash and rasp of their crossing blades. He parried and struck, as did his opponent, who seemed to have developed a little more respect for Talon as he did not speak and was more cautious about attacking. However it was clear that he was in a hurry to finish it as he drove in towards Talon’s guard again and again, forcing Talon to give ground.

  The figure in front of him muttered something as though incredulous, then said out loud, “It is she! Take your last look at an assassin, boy. I shall finish you, and I shall have her when I am done with you.” He attacked even more ferociously.

  But Talon was watching his opponent carefully, watching for an opening. The sparks still flew as they struck blades and parried one another, but Talon now had his knife pulled out and waited for his opportunity. Psellos made his mistake at the same moment they both heard shouts from up the road from the Kalothesos house. Out of the corner of his eyes Talon could see men running down the road towards Theodora; they carried torches, and he knew Guy had arrived.

  He flicked his eyes forward to see Psellos shift one foot forward like a dancer and then lunge at what he thought was Talon’s exposed midriff. Instead of parrying and moving back Talon danced sideways and in; his sword hammered down onto the incoming blade, driving it away, but then his knife thrust straight into the oncoming man’s throat. It was not an instantly killing blow but it was mortal. Psellos fell forward onto his hands and knees on the flags of the wet road and coughed. Then it seemed as though he could not get up again. He looked up at Talon, surprise written on his face, and croaked, “How did…?”

  “I am one of you, but…better,” Talon whispered. Psellos stared at him, his eyes full of terror, and then fell forward onto his face. Talon kicked the man’s sword out of the way and turned him over onto his back with his foot. Psellos was still alive but was bleeding furiously from the gaping wound in his neck that he tried feebly to stem.

  Talon cut a piece of cloth from the man’s tunic, wadded it, then placed it against the wound, knowing full well that the assassin only had little time left. Psellos grimaced in pain.

  “Who sent you?” Talon demanded as he knelt near to the man.

  It was clear that Psellos knew he only had a few moments of life left. He groaned and then gasped. “You are good. The senator…he…wanted her dead. Wants you all dead. Pretty…”

  Talon was about to check the dying man for a knife when Psellos in one last huge effort drew one and with his teeth bared in a snarl tried to reach up and stab him in the side. Talon easily caught the arm and twisted the wrist to force the blade point into Psellos’ chest then pushed downwards. They stared into one another’s eyes as the point of the blade came down slowly. Psellos grunted with the effort, but in his eyes there was now only stark terror. Talon thrust the last few inches hard and the blade went deep into Psellos’ heart. Psellos gave an agonized gasp, his eyes rolled up and his head lolled over to the side while the other hand holding the wad fell away, leaving the gash exposed with a trickle of blood staining the ground. His feet drummed on the road with his death throes, then he was still. The rain began to wash away the blood on his neck.

  Talon stood up to find himself surrounded by the servants from the Kalothesos house and many others from nearby houses who had heard the screams and had come to investigate. They regarded him fearfully, having seen the final moments of the fight. Talon was relieved to find Guy was there too.

  “What happened, Talon? Dear God preserve us, but it is the woman I saw leave earlier from the house!” he said in a low tone to Talon. “Is she alive?”

  Talon shook his head.

  “No…she died from a cross bow shaft.”

  “Who is this?” Guy nudged the body of the dead man at their feet.

  “Her assassin,” Talon told him.

  He went over to where the crowd was gathered around the body of Eugenia with Theodora still holding her and sobbing quietly now. The onlookers were babbling freely to one another but otherwise doing little to help Theodora,
who was moaning and rocking herself over the still body of her sister. Talon put his hand on her shoulder and said gently.

  “Theodora, you must come with me now.”

  She looked up at him vacantly and then seemed to recognize him.

  “Talon, I…I never meant all those mean things I said about her. I didn’t! Oh God, why did this happen? Why?” She began to weep and deep, racking sobs shook her body. Talon decided that they needed to get her out of the rain as quickly as possible.

  “I intend to find out, Theodora, but you must help me by going with Guy and my men here. Guy, take Eugenia with you as well, back to the villa and lock it up tight. No one is to be allowed in unless you can verify who they might be. Make sure the guards are on high alert! Be ready for anything, Guy.”

  Guy nodded in the torchlight and was just about to help the sobbing Theodora to her feet when they all heard the tramp of marching boots and heads turned to stare up the street at the row of torches that were coming down the hillside.

  “Quickly, Guy, get her into the house!” Talon whispered. “I do not know who this is, so let us be safe.”

  Guy wasted no time. He simply picked Theodora up in his arms and told his men to bring the body of Eugenia, while they hurried up the short distance to the torch-lit gates of the villa where the guards admitted them. Talon followed at a slower pace, drifting in with the curious crowd, careful not to be too prominent among them. The marching men came closer and soon they could see the gleam of metal as the light from the torches they carried reflected off armor, chain mail and steel helmets.

  Talon did not at first recognize the armor and accouterments of the approaching men, but then realized these might be the men that Alexios had called for and gave a small sigh of relief. As the small detachment came closer he recognized the man in the lead as one of the officers he had met while playing tzykanion. He stepped forward to be seen.

  A quick command and the squad of men crashed to a halt and the officer walked over to Talon. He recognized him with a smile.