Assassins of Kantara

by James Boschert

  When Isaac came back from his misadventure on the mountain, she was solicitous.

  “My Darling, my King! I am so glad that you survived the ordeal. Those monsters on the mountain used magic! How else could they have done so much damage to your magnificent army?”

  Isaac was so traumatized by the whole disaster that he refused even to talk about it other than a curt, “I decided that I would go back another day. In the meantime, do not talk about it to me... ever!” he shouted the last word. As an afterthought, he called for Diocles.

  “I want hostages!” he snarled. “Every one of the barons will send me hostages, or I shall burn their castles to the ground—with them inside!”

  Diocles hastened off, wondering who he would be able to use as messengers.

  Word sped through the palace that discussion of the debacle on the mountain was non-topic number one.

  Tamura was sensible enough to keep her mouth shut, or rather, open in the right places, and focused upon keeping the emperor’s mind on other things.

  Thus it was that one day, Isaac, when he could get his breath back from a particularly passionate romp, said to her, “I have to go to Paphos and Limassol next week, my Jewel. Would you like to come with me?”

  The excited squeak of joy from Tamura was all he needed to hear. Isaac began to take her on his trips to the other cities, ostensibly on administrative business, and a show of force, but mainly to assess which merchants were ripe for the plucking. Those who had not fled and could afford to pay the exorbitant taxes that he now demanded for their continued presence on the island would form a line to pay homage whenever he showed up with his enormous retinue; the feeding of his ravenous entourage was considered a privilege. One preferable to bankruptcy and maiming, they all agreed.

  They could not help but notice that a female now often graced the chamber or tent when the emperor held court. Although she was always veiled and very circumspect, it was not lost upon the canny merchants that a very beautiful young woman was now accompanying the emperor. Was it possible that the plunderer of Cyprus was become more settled?

  They soon learned that the emperor’s mood might be somewhat lighter, but the avarice and cruelty was still there. Hostages had been demanded from the barons who lived in their lofty eyries in Kyrenia and Trudos, merchants were still heavily taxed, and their daughters had to be locked out of sight or sent off into the mountains for the duration of his visits.

  Small groups of young men and women began to show up at the gates of the city, escorted by the emperor’s mercenaries, who treated them with contempt and disrespect. These young nobles were the hostages-to-be. At first, few of them understood the meaning of being a hostage; but the mercenaries, now under the doubtful leadership of a bulky man called Skleros, took delight in informing them. The youngsters, mostly in their early teens, clutched pathetic bundles of their possessions and barely talked to one another as they stared up at the walls of the capital city of Cyprus. This was to be their home for an indefinite period of time. The mercenaries shouted to the guards on the towers, the gates rumbled open, and they were herded inside. The gates slammed shut with a sound like the crash of doom.

  When Malakis, the chief information-gatherer, arrived to inspect the latest batch, he would separate the girls from the boys and send the girls to the palace, under escort, to be housed in the ladies’ wing of the rambling place, while the boys were marched to a less ostentatious accommodation. The curious gawkers would disperse and the city would resume its activities, but the message was clear: the nobles had better behave themselves, unless they wanted their heirs executed.

  High above the plains of Famagusta, the people of the castle set about consolidating their gains. Talon’s captains had returned to the harbor, having seen the signal flags flying from the top of the castle, and Talon sent messengers to them with instructions to make their way up to the fortress for a conference. He asked Palladius to have the men of the castle, as well as the villagers, collect every arrow and item of armor left behind by the emperor’s army and bring them into the castle walls. He stood for a long time on the parapet watching villagers and ex-slaves—Frank, Greek, and Arabs—picking their way over the detritus of the former camp.

  He had already decided that it would take the army two full days to arrive back at Famagusta, so he had sent Yosef off with an escort by the back paths to arrive before the emperor and deliver the chest to the gates of the city with the express orders to deliver it to the emperor. Yosef was under strict orders not to tarry.

  Talon, trailed by the two hounds, went into the bailey and called over to some servants, “Can someone feed these two? They have had a hard day watching the rest of us work.”

  The nearby servants shook their heads in amusement. This new lord was quite unlike anyone they had ever encountered before.

  Talon climbed the stairs to the second floor, looking for Rav’an. He found her in the upstairs rooms overseeing the cleaning of the entire area with the able help of Jannat. All the shutters were thrown open and old bedding was being tossed out to be burned. The Greek servants who noticed him ducked their heads and presented him with nervous smiles; they appeared to be contented with their new situation. Boethius the merchant gave him a wave from the other end of the corridor. He also seemed happy as he made himself useful, acting as a translator.

  “Ah, there you are, Talon,” Rav’an said with a smile, as she eased her back with both hands. She looked hot and tired, but contented. Talon reflected that now his wife and Jannat had a home to take care of, they were feeling much better about the future.

  “You should be resting, my Love. There are many hands to help; you and Jannat are, after all, the ladies of the castle,” Talon told her with concern in his voice.

  “Yes, my Talon, but first, now that you appear to have seen off the enemy, we are going to make it our castle and clean out the stench of the former oaf and his family. Time enough to rest later,” Rav’an stated firmly. “Furthermore, Jannat and I want a garden; you will have to put someone to work preparing one for us. Fresh vegetables will be very useful in future, if we are to be subjected to this insanity again.”

  Talon smiled. A garden would also mean a fountain and a place to be at one with nature within the walls. He liked that idea. Simon could head up the project.

  “Where is our boy?” he asked.

  “Oh, he’s somewhere outside,” Jannat responded. She walked up to join them, wiping some perspiration off her forehead with the back of her arm. Talon looked alarmed for an instant, but she shook her head with a smile. “No, Talon, do not worry. He took his cat and Boethius’ daughter to see the hawks on the North side. Dar’an will most certainly be keeping an eye on them. Panther is a big success with the girl.”

  “I wonder how long that cat is going to last, given the hounds we have inherited. One gulp and it will be history,” Talon said.

  “Then you are going to have to speak to those two dogs that follow you about like shadows and tell them the cat is off limits,” Rav’an told him severely. “How I miss my two salukis,” she added wistfully.

  Talon cocked an eyebrow. “Hounds,” he reminded her. “ I too wish we still had those two animals.” he was referring to the two salukis that Rav’an had possessed while living in Persia as a young girl. He had not encountered a hound as beautiful as these since. “Well, I shall visit the children later. Are you two all right otherwise?”

  “Apart from feeling as though we were all on a rope bridge suspended over a ravine with the enemy about to cut the ropes at one end,” Rav’an gave him a hug. “Yes, my Love. We saw most of the battle from the top of the bailey. My ears are still ringing from that enormous noise you made down in the barbican. That was cunning of you, my Fox.”

  “Hsü would have said that it was ‘effective’,” Talon grinned.

  “Are we safe to move about in the area of the castle?” she asked sensibly.

  “As soon as the army is far enough away, I intend to send out patrols all o
ver the mountain to ensure that the only people on it are ours and the village people. I don’t want any of those mercenaries thinking they can do what they like despite the promises of the emperor.”

  “I shall be glad to see the last of those herds of goats; they are making an appalling mess of our yard, and there is no peace!” Rav’an remarked. “I’m tired of their incessant bleating.”

  That gave Talon an idea. Why not use the goat herders as his mountain watch? He would discuss this with Reza.

  What does he next prepare?

  Whence will he move to attack?—

  By water, earth or air?—

  —Rudyard Kipling

  Chapter 18

  To Be a Spy

  As soon as the captains arrived from the harbor, Talon called a council of war.

  Present were Reza and his two lieutenants, Dar’an and Yosef; the two captains Henry and Guy; the merchant Boethius; Dimitri, Rav’an and Jannat.

  They found a quiet room on the top floor of the bailey and began to discuss the future.

  “We have ‘inherited’ a large castle with extensive lands,” Talon began, “but I must ascertain whether the land is going to support all our needs.” Their household had just increased five-fold or more; the question of adequate supplies was a serious one. And ever at the back of Talon’s mind was the original cause of their flight from Oman. What if the Master found them again? How could he protect his family from that threat? Isaac’s mercenaries were bad enough; enemy that understood stealth and patience were far less easy to detect, far more difficult to guard against. Would they never be free of that dark menace? With an effort, he directed his mind to the matter at hand.

  “There is a mine, but I have no idea whether it can be productive again. There are large olive groves, and I have seen vine fields in the bottom of the valley.”

  “There is much livestock wandering around these hills,” Reza interjected. “The villages are not poor. They were on the verge of poverty because of that stupid man Doukas, but that ended just in time.”

  “True, but they are small villages, which means they could support themselves on the limited land base. The question remains, can they support the castle? That is what is worrying you, isn’t it, Talon?” Rav’an said.

  “The harbor village has many small boats, and we saw them bring in large catches,” Henry pointed out.

  “Yes, we have a good supply of fish on our doorstep—more than enough to feed the crews and the castle,” Guy agreed.

  “Then I shall arrange to inspect the fields and the mine to discover what else we have available. We need to be able to feed ourselves, and to store food in case of another siege.”

  “It only lasted a day, Talon,” Dimitri laughed, and he was joined by the others, who were still exhilarated by their phenomenal success.

  Talon smiled at his extended family. “Access to food is a priority, but another point of concern involves you, Dimitri.”

  Dimitri sobered.“What do you have in mind, Talon?”

  “A man called Hsü once told me that the game of life is about anticipation and making moves before your opponent is aware of what you are doing. Even more importantly, before he is aware of what he is going to do.”

  There was silence in the room as the others tried to digest the implications.

  “You mean, we need spies?” Boethius said tentatively.

  Reza cocked his head. “Yes, he does. It’s a good idea, Talon.”

  “And I was hoping that you would be willing to help, Boethius,” Talon said, looking directly at the merchant.

  “Ah, I see. It’s because Dimitri and I are Greek?”

  “Yes. You can blend in with the population, whereas the rest of us are only good at night.”

  “I know what you do at night, Talon,” Dimitri said, with some emphasis and a hard look at Reza, who grinned back at him.

  “The important thing is to have ears on the ground in Famagusta and the other towns, especially in Paphos, as many ships come there from Outremer and the Empire. I don’t want to be surprised by anything in the future. I want, if possible, to know what the emperor is doing before he knows himself. How will we set about this?”

  “The entire population of this island is fearful of the emperor, which could be a real problem, but they also hate him, which could be to our advantage,” Boethius said slowly.

  “I had a mind to send you back to Paphos to rebuild your business, Boethius,” Talon told him. “It will be dangerous, but if we have a good supply of spies you will know well ahead of time should Isaac be about to pay the city a visit. Your salvation, and ours, will depend upon people who hear and see everything and report it to you. Listen, both of you—I learned one thing some time ago: make the beggars your eyes and ears. Pay them to do so, they will repay you tenfold. You would be surprised at how much they see and hear, but no one pays them any attention.”

  Boethius blinked and nodded thoughtfully. “I agree, it would be dangerous to go back, but I am willing to try and see what can be done. I would ask one favor, however.” He looked over to Rav’an. “My Lady, could I leave Irene in your charge until we know which way the land lies? I don’t want to be worried about her safety while I am engaged upon this kind of enterprise.”

  Rav’an glanced up at Talon, who gave an imperceptible nod. “Of course, Boethius. We will be glad to keep her here until you send for her.”

  Talon smiled. “Then, Boethius Eirenikos, you are about to become a merchant again. Henry will take you back to Paphos as soon as possible to determine the state of the city, and Irene shall stay with us.”

  Boethius stood up and walked over to Reza. “You saved my life, Reza. I shall not disappoint you, of that you may be sure.”

  Reza smiled. “You will need a bodyguard. I shall give you Nasuh. His Greek is coming along very fast, you told me so yourself. I have taught him a great deal, so you can rely upon him if things get dangerous.”

  Talon turned to Henry. “Henry, I want you to take Boethius to Paphos, and we need to establish trade with the mainland, if possible. You must be careful; the country over there is constantly changing hands. Perhaps the islands would be a better place to start.”

  “Rumors are that a great fleet has sailed to Thessalonica, Talon. Have you heard anything? The seas between us and Byzantium could be very dangerous,” Boethius remarked.

  “A fleet from where?” Talon asked, puzzled.

  “I think it comes from Sicily,” Boethius told him. “William the Norman of Sicily might have finally sailed. I know nothing more.”

  “But the fleet is not coming here?” Talon asked.

  “Unlikely, I think. The King of Sicily and Isaac are friends, for now at least. My guess is that he is going to Thessalonica, and if he wins there he will try for Constantinople.”

  Talon was very thoughtful at this news. He realized that there was no time to lose. “I think we have just had an example of not having information and being reliant upon rumor.” He held up his hand to Boethius. “I don’t doubt for a moment that you have heard right, my friend, but it is only rumor, and we cannot survive if we do not have accurate information.” He turned to Henry.

  “There is no time to lose, Henry. Take Boethius with you as soon as you can and head for Paphos. You might glean more information there than we can here. Boethius, you will need funds to help get you started. I shall provide that help, but you must seem like a merchant in all ways. And once you find out what is really going on, there is a good way to get information to us very quickly.”

  They all looked at him, puzzled.

  “Pigeons! The Egyptians use them all the time as message carriers. They have done this forever.”

  Jannat sat up. “There is an old pigeon room on the North tower. I don’t think there are any pigeons there now, but it could be rebuilt.”

  Talon smiled. “So we, Max, shall talk to Julian down at the village about finding some good birds, and we should hurry. Dimitri, one of the first things you must do is
to set up our intelligence in Famagusta, then we must discuss how you are going to get someone into the palace. Don’t forget the beggars.”

  There was a feast of sorts that evening. The servants who had remained worked hard to provide their new lord and his lady with a good meal.

  The tables became laden with small dishes of Tzatziki—a yogurt dip made with garlic, cucumber, and olive oil. Talon particularly enjoyed the Tahini, which is a paste of crushed sesame seeds, olive oil, lemon, and garlic. Rostam made a pig of himself over the Taramosalata, a type of fish roe mixed with cream, olive oil, lemon juice and onions. When his mother suggested that perhaps he should try something else he shook his head and tore off another piece of bread to dip yet again into the orange-white paste. There was the familiar Hummus, a dish of pureed chickpea, and then chicken and goat meat kababs arrived on huge earthenware platters. Conversation was sparse as the new owners and their followers tucked into the delicious food.

  Rav’an was careful to praise the cooks, who flushed with pride. They were quite unused to being complemented.

  The only detractor from the meal was the wine, which Talon declared to be poor in an aside to Reza, who grimaced.

  “I do not know why you even try to drink it! But I could get used to this food, which is better than that terrible stuff we had to eat in Acre, my Brother,” he declared, then looked up in anticipation as yet another dish arrived.

  This one consisted of baked vine leaves stuffed with minced meat and herbs, followed soon by platters of baked fish, of several types: sardines, red snapper, and tuna. The meal closed with sweet pastries laden with crushed nuts and dates, with honey poured over them.

  Declaring the meal a success, Talon finally sat back and sighed. He glanced down the hall at the sailors, the ex-prisoners and his men with satisfaction. They were busy stuffing themselves as though there was to be no tomorrow.

  “At last we have eaten a meal which reminds me of Isfahan and Fariba’s kitchens. However, I shall have to talk to the villagers about this wine, I’m sure we can do better. Boethius told me the best vinyards are on the western slopes of Trudos; we should be able to match then before too long,” Talon informed Rav’an and Jannat.