Assassins of Kantara

by James Boschert

  Jonathan sighed. “Please pay attention, Martin. I have had it on good authority that Sir Talon is back in this country,” he spoke the word Sir derisively.

  Martin had the grace to look startled. “Where... where did you hear this?” he asked through a mouthful of meat and bread. He took a sip of water to wash it down before he choked.

  “He is alive, despite assumptions to the contrary. I heard this very day that he showed up in Jerusalem, but again has disappeared. Rumor has it that he joined up with the Count of Tripoli and has gone to live in Tiberius with that heretic. I shall have him too, one of these days; I swear to God.” This last was delivered with such venom that Martin stared with astonishment across the table at Jonathan.

  “Is there no forgiveness in you, Brother? The Count is a great and loyal noble who is close to the King, God bless his soul. By all accounts he advises him well. His knowledge of the Saracen and their world is an important asset, I would have thought.”

  “The Lord Raynald of Châtillon doesn’t think so, nor does Lord Joscelin de Courtenay,” Johnathan sneered. “The man represents the fallen, those who have gone over to the Devil. They came out here and adopted the ungodly ways of the Saracen. He even dresses like them, wearing a turban and speaking their cursed language! He is a heretic and only his rank protects him. With God’s aid I shall expose him and his wicked thoughts to the world.”

  “What are you going to do about... Talon?” Martin asked hesitantly. He tried to look and sound casual, but inside he was reeling. He had to get a message to Talon before Jonathan suspected he was in Acre.

  “I will be sending a spy to Tiberius, one who knows Talon well. He once worked for the man but has repented and now works for me. When he reports back to me in a week or so, then I shall lay a trap for Talon here in Acre, for this is surely where he will come. It is where he kept his ill-gotten gains. He can then be arrested, and we will begin his trial,” Jonathan said, and took a gulp of wine. Martin had the impression that Jonathan was celebrating.

  “Who are you going send?” he almost stammered.

  ‘Why, William, of course! He would know Talon, even should he be disguised. As I recall, Talon was ever a cunning man.”

  Martin knew William. He had been a sly, thin man, whose eyes never readily met one’s own. Now, after being raised to the dubious honor of being a spy for Jonathan, he was gaining weight, although he had not lost any of his former shiftiness.

  “When does he leave?” Martin blurted out. He had not meant to be so direct, and it made Jonathan look up.

  “Why? Of what interest is it to you?” he demanded.

  “None, none at all. I was just curious.” Martin lowered his eyes and took another piece of bread, trying to stop the shaking of his hand. His mind was in a whirl. How could he warn Talon in time?

  Homeless as I am, to whom shall I apply?

  A houseless wanderer, whither shall I go?

  —Baba Tahir

  Chapter 8

  Plans for Escape

  Talon woke the next day just before dawn with an uneasy feeling in his gut. He couldn’t put his finger on anything, other than the fact that now Brother Martin knew he was in Acre there was the very real risk of betrayal. He told himself that he was being stupid and that Martin was trustworthy, but the awareness that Martin was too close to the enemy persisted. He rose quickly and woke Simon, who was grumpy at being woken so early; but he wanted to be helpful, so they hurried off towards the house, which was just beginning to stir when they arrived. Simon took up his usual place against the wall and settled down to wait.

  Talon left him there and headed back. Despite his doubts about his ability to carry this scheme off, he knew there were precious few alternatives. It was difficult to present to his captains and even his companions, Reza in particular, a confident face when he was still in shock at the complete reversal of his fortunes.

  Then the thought of Rav’an and Jannat, still outside and very vulnerable, hardened his resolve. He clamped his jaw shut and strode on, scowling and clenching his fists as he went, his anger building. Damned if he would let Jonathan win this fight! His captains and companions had much to do, and a weak looking leader was not going to help. People got out of his way; an imposing figure who strode angrily down the street.

  He arrived back to find that they had almost finished modifying the hauberks and were assembling the other equipment they would need. There was a letter to forge and another to write to Rav’an. They had come to the conclusion that noon would be a good time for her and the others to enter the city, as everyone would be supine from the heat of the day and perhaps less inclined to examine the baggage. Talon, Henry, and Guy set out to verify this and to see how closely the gate was guarded. Reza was absent, doubtless still lurking around Talon’s former house, keeping an eye on Simon and looking for a place to get in unobserved. Talon had described the house in detail to him, even to making a crude sketch of its layout on the table with a piece of charred wood, so he knew where all the rooms were located.

  While Talon and his companions worked together to complete their preparations, Rav’an and Jannat had been busy. Rostam was put to work packing panniers with gold and silver coin and bars, and then pushing cloth rolls on top of them. He was assisted by Dar’an, who would guide them into the city through the gates to where one of Talon’s men, or perhaps even Talon himself, would meet them and escort them to their hideout. The plan was simple enough. They would have five heavily laden donkeys to lead and two that would carry each one of the women as well as some other possessions. Rav’an went through everything in her mind as she considered what to bring with her. Talon had been explicit.

  “Bring only the treasure and yourselves, with enough clothing to see you through for a few weeks. Everything else, the tents and baggage, is to be left behind. Let Ahmed take it all. Hide the treasure and coins well so that you look like a lady of small means returning to the city. I shall have one of my captains meet you outside the gates and he will escort you in. He will be a large man dressed in chain armor and his name is Henry. Just ask him for his name and he will do the rest. Be there at noon time tomorrow.”

  Rav’an would not be bringing any camels with her. These she would leave behind in the care of the caravan master, who by prior arrangement would leave the area the following day as though heading further north. In fact, the men with him, who were part of the ship’s crew, would return to the port of Elat on the northern tip of the Red Sea. From there they would sail back to Muscat and they would let it be known that they had come back from Aden should anyone ask. They had been well paid for their work.

  Wiping the perspiration off her forehead, Rav’an sat down on a small bale of cloth to rest. The heat of the day was tiring her, and she felt her baby move.

  “Be patient, my darling,” she murmured as she put both hands on her growing belly. “It will be all over soon and we can rest properly. God protect us, but I hope so,” she added. Everything seemed to have gone wrong since they’d arrived at Acre. She hoped Talon was not making a terrible mistake. There was a leaden feeling inside her stomach that refused to go away. Perhaps when she saw him she would feel better.

  Jannat looked up from her labors at the other side of the stuffy tent. “Are you all right, my Rav’an?” she asked.

  “Yes, I am fine. The baby is moving again.”

  Jannat smiled in sympathy. “I am not at that place just yet, but I imagine you will be pleased to get into the city and away from all the flies and sand out here.”

  “Very pleased, but... from what Dar’an has told me all is definitely not well inside the city either. He said that they had not found things to be as Talon expected. He told me that he had never seen Talon so... upset. I just hope that it is not as bad as it sounds.”

  “I try not to fret, but like you the news does not sound very good,” Jannat said. She sounded fearful. “However, we can’t continue to live out here like Beduin. God willing, we will be able to rest and get a bath!”
she gave a nervous laugh, and so did Rav’an. “Oh, yes indeed. I am looking forward to that.”

  She listened to the noises coming from outside. Nothing to worry about there. Ahmed was working with the men to prepare the donkeys and explaining what they had to do next. They were well guarded. Aside from the groans from the camels and the occasional bray of a donkey, all was quiet. The well near where they were camped was used by several of the tented communities on the plain, but people kept to themselves for the most part. Rav’an and Jannat were careful to be veiled whenever they sortied from their tent.

  Upon their return to the safe house, Talon discovered a very agitated Simon, who thrust a scrap of paper at him as soon as he arrived and said, “Martin is very concerned, Sir Talon. He told me there was an emergency that you needed to know about at once. I have been back here for a couple of hours already.”

  Talon thanked him and opened the folded paper. What he saw there made him frown. He looked up at Henry and Guy. “Martin informs me that Brother Jonathan knows I am coming to Acre, but not that I am here. He has sent one of his spies to Tiberius to find out if I am still there with the Count of Tripoli. Should I not be there, he has orders to hasten back and the city will be locked down while they await my arrival.” He gave a sardonic smile as he said this.

  Henry nodded his head and grinned. “So he has some idea that you are in the Kingdom, and the only person who could tell him you are already here in Acre won’t.”

  “I believe that to be the case. I trust Martin, but the spy is none other than William the Norman. Remember him?”

  “Oh yes, I certainly do,” said Guy from the table. “As shifty an individual as any I have ever met.”

  Henry agreed. “Yes, we know him. Is there a risk that he will arrive back before we can implement the plan?”

  “Not if we don’t waste any more time. The others will be here at noon tomorrow, and then we have to take and load the ships and ensure that all is ready. A day or so, whereas it will take Will well over a day just to get to Tiberius and find out that I am not there, and then he will have to return.”

  He turned to Reza and explained the situation to him in Farsi. Reza’s first reaction was to intercept the spy on his way back. “If you describe him well to me, I can take him before he ever reaches the city,” he said.

  “I think we can leave this one alone, Brother. There is a more important fish to deal with before we leave. Will is nothing to worry about,” he turned to Guy and Henry. “I am more interested in how you two have been doing with our crew.”

  “We have half the crews needed for both ships, and more coming as the word goes out that we are recruiting,” Henry assured him.

  “We will need to pull the hour forward because of this latest news. No one knows I am here in Acre?” Talon questioned him.

  “We have never mentioned you to any one of them. All they know is that we have a new commission and that it will be with our old ships. The destination is to be Jaffa, and then perhaps Sicily. To a man they welcomed the work without question.”

  “We have made sure the more reliable men were selected. They will come to the meeting place at very short notice when we need them,” Guy told Talon, who nodded approval.

  “Now we have to dress up and see what you look like in a suit of chain,” he said.

  When they had donned the armor he inspected his captains with their chain mail hauberks, chain leggings and helmets. “You could be mistaken for some old Templars,” he remarked; he didn’t sound very convincing, however.

  The next day was tense for everyone. Talon went with Reza and Henry to the gates an hour ahead of the agreed time for Rav’an to arrive. Henry carried a heavy pack over his shoulder, with his armor wrapped inside. He was going to change when outside the gates; there were many places outside the city where he could find a quiet place to do so. Tents and hovels dotted the area of the plain alongside the main road.

  After having a good look around at the city’s main gates, they settled down to wait. Talon and Reza were very watchful, but equally careful not to attract attention. A great deal hinged on the safe arrival of Rav’an and their ability to enter the city without hindrance from the guards. Noon approached, and the traffic fell off as the heat of the sun began to bite. The guards sheltered in the shade of the gate towers and often waved the visitors through, too lazy to stop them and ask their business.

  “Time to go, Henry,” Talon said to his friend who nodded and hefted his pack. Henry was dressed in drab brown sacking with a hood to hide his face from the casual observer, and he drew no attention as he wandered casually out of the open gates. Only the observant would notice that he wore good boots. The guards were now eating their noonday meal. The dogs in the street were lying asleep in shady corners. Talon and Reza were squatting in the shade of an old archway, keeping a sharp eye on the entrance. Talon wished that he could be on the ramparts of the gatehouse, where he could see Rav’an and her party as they approached.

  As it was, he would have to content himself with watching her arrival at the gates, unable to do much if they were stopped. He hoped Henry would be able to pull it off and convince the guards that he was the escort. The guards respected the Templars, who had a reputation for no nonsense; but one could never tell.

  The sun climbed its final few degrees to arrive at high noon; the city seemed to quieten, while the guards visibly slowed down. Some were even asleep in the shade, while others, charged with watching, leaned against the walls. They relied upon the watchmen perched in the towers to warn them of any real danger.

  Reza nudged Talon, who became aware of a small stir at the gate. The two guards were looking through the opening at something. Then to Talon and Reza’s surprise a horse appeared with Henry seated on top. They hadn’t expected to see him mounted.

  Rav’an spent a restless night in the tent. Her baby moved about, and while the cool of the night helped her to rest it did little to ease her worry. Her mind would not relax and allow sleep to come for several hours after she went to bed. All that she could do had been done. Ahmed was ready to leave the moment she departed for the gates of this imposing city. He would be glad to be gone. The city was, after all, full of unbelievers and their kind. He could not fathom why Talon and his family would want to go in there and risk all; the Frans were well known for their treachery.

  The risk they were about to undertake was not lost on Rav’an, and her worry had communicated itself to Rostam and Jannat. Both were wan from lack of sleep the next day as dawn lit up the eastern sky. They prepared some tea and ate sparingly, too tense to do more than nibble. Dar’an took Rostam for a short walk and explained what he was expected to do while Rav’an and Jannat tidied up the tent, although, as Jannat said, “We have no need to, as we are leaving it all behind.” She picked through some pretty muslin cloths wistfully, as though she longed to take one last item with her. Rav’an, however, had been adamant. They could always buy more clothes, but the Chinese powder and the treasure they could not replace. Space had to be reserved for those items, and the animals were going to be heavily loaded as it was.

  Several hours before noon Rav’an gave the order for the completion of the loading. The beasts were assembled before her tent and the remainder of the pile of baggage was hauled out and placed on the backs of the ten donkeys that were waiting. She watched as Dar’an, now a strong young man, took charge of the loading and ensured that the heavy panniers were secured. He had matured a great deal and demonstrated his ability to take charge with an easy manner that went well with the other men, some of whom had volunteered to come with her into the city. These were men that Reza had spent much time training in the arts of stealth and secrecy as they were sailing up the Red Sea. While none could match his skills, they were determined to excel and were a welcome addition to a core group of men Reza knew he would need to rely upon in the future.

  Finally it was done and, then it was the turn of the camels. Ahmed had the remainder of the men take down everything except
the tents and load the animals. They were forced to their knees, with much groaning and spitting, to wait for the moment when they would finally begin their long, dangerous journey down south to Elat.

  Rostam, who had been sent out to watch the gates, rushed back and told Rav’an that a large Frans had left the city and was walking towards their encampment.

  “That must be the man called Henry,” Dar’an said. “I shall go and bring him here, My Lady.”

  Rav’an nodded agreement and went back into the tent. She took a deep breath. “Now we must hurry, Jannat. It is almost time; the Frans comes. Are you all right, my dearest?” Rav’an asked, concern in her voice.

  Jannat looked pale but determined. “Yes, Sister. I just feel a little unwell. It will pass.” She swept back her hair and fastened it with a comb. Then she pulled her veil over her head and stood up straight. “I am ready,” she said with a tight smile.

  “You are very brave, my Sister,” Rav’an informed her, as she did the same. “We are in God’s hands now, or rather,” she gave a forced laugh, “in the Frans’ hands now. Come, we go to meet him.”

  By the time they had exited the tent, Dar’an had brought Henry to the encampment and he had changed into his hauberk. Rav’an had to admit the large Frans looked very imposing in his thick chain clothing. The effect of the helmet and its nose bar lent a sinister aspect. It was hardly surprising, she reflected, that these Frans had such a terrifying effect upon people when in battle. However, there was something wrong with the picture. Then she realized what it was.

  “Dar’an, go and get one of the horses from Ahmed. Tell him I will need to take it with me. Bring it here for the Frans, Henry. He should be seated on a horse!”

  Dar’an ran off, and after a quick discussion with Ahmed be came back leading one of the horses that were going to be taken south. He led the animal up to Henry, who looked oddly uncomfortable at the sight of the animal. A small crowd of curious men was beginning to form as he approached the horse and put out a tentative hand to touch its nose.