Assassins of Kantara

by James Boschert

  “Was one of them a big man? Ugly?”

  “No, don’t remember, don’t think so. They had a pack animal with them.”

  “Which way did they go?” Gabros demanded.

  The man pointed towards the north. “That way.”

  “That’s got to be them,” Gabros muttered under his breath. “Open the gates. I have to go after them,” he called over to the sentries.

  No one moved. “Didn’t you hear me? Open the gates, you pile of excrement.”

  The guard looked offended. “Can’t do that, Sir. Orders are to keep them closed. There is a fugitive loose in the city.”

  Gabros took a deep breath. He thought he was going to burst a blood vessel. “Open the God damned gates, you rock heads!” he bellowed. His men waved their swords menacingly and advanced on the small group of sentries.

  The man who led them said resolutely, “If the emperor said to keep them closed, I have to hear from an official in the palace before I open them.”

  Gabros had had enough. “Disarm these flea wits and open the gates,” he said with a tired gesture to his men. It didn’t take very long. The guards valued their lives more than their orders and allowed the beams to be lifted and the gates to be opened.

  “Tell your leader that I shall be back with the prisoner, shortly.” Gabros called back over his shoulder, as he and his men spurred their horses into a gallop heading in the direction of the castle on the mountain.

  Gall when it helps is good,

  Even if it’s bitter;

  But sweetness when it starts

  To harm will soon devour

  —Yosef Ibn Zabara

  Chapter 30

  A Good Chase

  Reza looked back the way they had come with relief that the pursuit which he deemed inevitable had not yet begun. He glanced forward at Guy, who was leaning over his horse’s neck, his fists almost white with his death-grip on the neck strap. Maymun held the reins in his left hand while he rode his own horse hard. They would have to negotiate the foothills, and then, on tired horses, they had another severe hurdle to overcome on the last steep slope of the final ascent to the castle itself.

  “Water!” Guy begged. Reza cantered up to ride alongside to pour some water into his open mouth and over his swollen face. “Be strong, Guy. Not long now,” he said by way of encouragement. Guy nodded and went back to his somnolent state.

  Another hour at least, Reza surmised. He hoped the battered and semi-conscious Guy could last the pace. The ship’s captain didn’t look at all good. His breathing was labored; the beating had probably broken several ribs and his face was very swollen. Guy was a big man, and although his horse was the largest of the three it would be hard for the animal when they arrived at the steeper slopes of the mountain.

  Their pace was slower than Reza would have liked, and as they arrived at the steeper slopes they slowed even more. The horses were sweating with the effort and beginning to blow. However, they were already well into the foothills and had a good view of the road all the way back to the distant city of Famagusta. Another glance behind them and Reza stiffened. Far back along the narrow road on the flat plain, he could see a small dust cloud. It could not be anything other than a group of riders on their trail.

  “They come!” he called to Maymun, who nodded without words and shouted more encouragement to the tired horses. The boy hauled hard on the reins of the horse behind him. “Guy,” he shouted, “stay on the horse. We have to hurry!”

  Guy lifted his head painfully and nodded. He flapped his heels bravely and his animal responded.

  Reza’s eyes searched for a good place for an ambush but rejected the idea. They had to keep moving as fast as they could and gain height, then perhaps lose themselves in the rugged mountain gullies. He stared beyond the next bend in the road, up towards the ridge upon which the castle rested. Perhaps if the people up there could see them, help might come in some form or another. He had no doubt at all that, should the alarm be raised, Talon would send men, even come himself, to fend off the pursuit.

  With his mouth set in a grim line he judged the distance between them and their pursuers. It was slowly being eaten up by the racing mercenaries. It would not be long before he had the hounds snapping at his heels. He drove his horse onward and slapped the horse carrying Guy on its rump with his bow; their pace picked up a little. He remembered another time when he and Talon had delayed a group of Seljuk cavalry by shooting down at them from a superior height. He would find a good place to make a stand, and from there he would ensure that many died before he went down.

  Now the castle came into view: perched high above them it seemed very small from this distance. He focussed on the horses, shouting encouragement as the tired animals struggled up the road. A cold wind was flowing along the mountain from the east, chilling the riders, but Reza was grateful for the cold. Had it been hot their work would have been much harder on the horses. They passed the flat space where the trebuchet had been and rode on. By now the men following them had gained much ground and were only half a league behind. Even at this distance Reza could hear their shouts.

  “Maymun, go on! Don’t stop! I shall be waiting for them up there,” Reza pointed to a ledge just fifty paces above them. “Take Guy to the castle and deliver him to Talon,” Reza ordered.

  Maymun wanted to object, but Reza waved him on impatiently. “Do as I say! It is very important that Guy be brought to safety.”

  They had almost reached the former camp of the emperor by this time. Suddenly Maymun gave an excited shout and pointed. There were men on horseback and others on foot racing along the ledge high above them under the castle walls, while still other men were standing on the battlements. “ Thank God! They have seen us, Reza!” he yelled. Just at that moment they both heard a muffled thump from high above them.

  A small dark object with smoke and sparks spewing out of it flew over the walls of the castle and soared into the sky above them.

  “Yes, they certainly have seen us,” Reza remarked with a laugh. “Go, Maymun, greet our brothers who are coming down the mountain. I shall hold these scum off.”

  He laid his bow across his lap and drew out an arrow which he knocked, then he halted his animal and waited.

  Gabros could smell his quarry. He knew that they were slowed by the very man that they wanted to save, so he drove his men ruthlessly onward. By the time they had reached the foothills he could catch glimpses of them as they struggled up the steepening slopes. All he had to do was to prevent them from making that last steep climb to the ridge, where the people in the castle could protect them. He shouted his men on with promises of reward.

  “You will have gold and horses. I personally will see to that if you capture them. Drive on!” he shouted, as they spurred their flagging, sweating and blowing horses up the slope. He knew they had only a narrow window of opportunity which was growing smaller with each pace their quarry advanced. They passed a patch of flat land and charged on. One of the fugitives had inexplicably stopped and turned to face them; he was about two hundred paces ahead, sitting very still. Gabros grinned to himself, the fool was about to die, but nonetheless there was something ominous about the motionless horseman.

  Then one of his men shouted a warning and pointed into the sky. “What is that?” he cried. They all looked up just in time to see a dark object hurtling towards them, trailing sparks in its wake. To a man they cringed with anticipation. What happened next was truly terrifying.

  The object landed about thirty paces ahead, then bounced into the air like some hissing creature from hell. It exploded with a bright yellow flash and an ear-deafening bang. Pieces of wood and iron flew through the air, striking the group, wounding horses and men. All that remained was an evil looking puff of yellowish smoke.

  Dazed and bleeding the men froze with shock, but the horses reacted. Screaming with fear, some even bucking with terror, the animals fought their riders for an escape. Two horses managed to bolt back down the slope with their riders
simply hanging on, while the remainder of the riders hauled their horses together into a milling group. These were the unfortunate ones.

  Another hissing black object fell out of the sky towards them, but this one exploded in the air with another great flash and ear-deafening clap of thunder almost overhead. This time the pieces frained down on them. Large splinters of wood pierced the flesh of men and horses; some fell over, either dead or wounded and screaming in agony.

  Only four riders were left mounted. One of them was Gabros. His mind refused to accept what he had just witnessed, or that he was in mortal danger, until he looked about him at his comrades lying groaning or still, with screaming, struggling animals bleeding copiously on the ground. He felt chilled, and it wasn’t the light wind that was tugging at his sleeves. He felt something wet on his neck and reached up to find that he had lost a piece of his ear. The pain became intense for a few agonizing moments.

  He stared in shock at the carnage, then glanced fearfully up at the castle whence this horror had originated. He crossed himself. Then he saw the solitary rider galloping towards them, and it seemed that this apparition was yet another manifestation of the evil that lurked all around. The rider had his reins in his teeth and held his bow drawn ready to shoot.

  Gabros gave a yelp of fright; despite his long experience as a soldier his instinct for survival was stronger at this moment than his resolve. Dragging his shredded wits together with a huge effort he spun his horse about, and putting spurs to his mount he galloped down the slope, followed by two others. One rider was not so fortunate. As he hauled his animal around an arrow thudded into his back, and he fell with a cry to join his dead and dying companions on the ground, adding his blood to the puddles already there.

  Reza watched the three men fleeing back down the slopes towards Famagusta. There was little purpose in chasing them, as they were already out of reach of Reza’s bowshot. Besides, they would take back news of the horrifying powers encountered here, which would deter other enemies. He dismounted and checked on the men and animals strewn around. He marveled at the destruction even as he went about his gruesome task of relieving the horses and men of what was left of their lives. He spared only one man, whom he dragged out from under his dead horse and bound tight with his own belt. The rest would have their heads joining the others on poles along the border.

  Just as he was finished, Maymun came galloping up to halt in a small cloud of dust in front of him. “Did any survive, Reza?” he demanded excitedly.

  “Yes. Did you deliver Guy to Talon?” Reza countered.

  “The men from the castle took him, Master. I left him in their care.” Maymun sounded uncertain as he saw at the grim look on Reza’s face. “I swear he was in good hands.”

  “In future you will do as I say!” Reza barked. The boy cringed visibly. “You must learn to obey orders to the letter. In this case you disobeyed me!”

  A very subdued Maymun dismounted hurriedly and kneeled at Reza’s feet. “Forgive me, Master Reza. I meant no harm nor to disobey you,” he bowed his head in dismay.

  Reza sounded somewhat mollified when he said, “Get back on your horse and take this prisoner up to the castle, and this time present him directly to Lord Talon. Here.”

  He handed off a length of leather that ended knotted around the neck of his prisoner, who looked utterly cowed. Maymun stood up, “Yes, Master Reza, I shall not disappoint you.” He leapt back onto his mount and, dragging the stumbling prisoner along behind him, made off up the slope towards the castle. Some men, led by Palladius, met him on the road a quarter of a league up the slope. Barely pausing, Maymun turned and pointed back at Reza, then continued on his way. The men on foot hurried down to join Reza, and to survey the destruction with awe.

  “Truly, Lord Talon can hurl thunderbolts at his enemies. Had I not seen this with my own eyes I do not think I could believe it,” Palladius said as he crossed himself.

  “Restoring the trebuchet was a good idea. They nearly had us,” Reza told him. “I shall leave you to dispose of the mess, Sergeant. Use the villagers if you need to. I am going up to the castle.”

  Palladius touched his forehead with respect. “As you command, Master Reza.”

  He watched Reza leave; he was in awe of this man and his friend Lord Talon. He knew he had made the right decision to stay and serve. The surviving, fleeing followers of Lord Doukas been put to death by the emperor, whereas he and the others who’d remained were treated well, the only expectation being that they soldier to the best of their abilities. it was a trade Palladius was well acquainted with, but he also knew that under Max, the imperturbable former Templar knight, he would learn more.

  Reza arrived at the castle, where he was greeted enthusiastically by the guards. Yosef and Dar’an were there to embrace him, and then Talon joined them and the two embraced. “That was... close, my Brother,” Talon remarked, when they drew apart, still holding arms and looking at each other with deep affection.

  “You and I have known closer encounters, my Brother. It was a good chase,” Reza grinned. “Now we know we can hurl death and destruction vast distances, and no less importantly, so do the idiots in Famagusta. Another fearsome legend!” They both chuckled.

  “Did the ship reach harbor safely?” Reza asked Talon.

  “They arrived early this morning and sent a messenger up immediately. The pigeon confirmed their report. I want to hear all about it, and what happened this morning.”

  “You shall. Dimitri is doing very well, despite the setback.”

  ‘That’s good to hear. Did any of your pursuers escape?” Talon asked.

  “Yes. Three of them, I suspect one was their leader.”

  “How many died?”

  “Six, and one prisoner.”

  “Maymun insisted upon delivering the prisoner to my hands,” Talon said with a dry note to his voice. “He looked chastened.”

  Reza nodded. “He is a good boy but needs to understand that orders are orders.”

  Talon nodded agreement. “He turned Guy over to our men at the top of the hill and went back for you?”

  “Precisely my point. How is Guy?” Reza asked.

  “I think you and I can leave the boys to get on with their duties and go and find out from our physician. Besides, I dare say you would like to see Jannat. She has been asking for you.”

  Reza punched him on the shoulder and ran off ahead of him towards the bailey, to pause briefly as Rostam came charging out of the main entrance to embrace him and ask a dozen questions. Reza swung him up into the air, then placed him down.

  “Later Rostam,” he called over his shoulder. He left the boy looking bewildered and dived into the building.

  Talon scooped up Rostam on his way to the mews. “Come along, my son. You need to spend more time with the hawks. How are you going to be able to hunt otherwise? Later we need to send a pigeon off to Dimitri. You can help me to compose the message.”

  Rostam forgot his initial hurt at being abandoned by his uncle and chased after his father with a yell of excitement. “You too, Irene,” Talon called over to the girl, who was hovering on the steps.

  Reza raced up the stairs past surprised servants, who curtsied or bowed at his departing back as he rushed by. He charged into the solarium to find Jannat and Rav’an seated by a small fire, the shutters half closed against the winter chill. With a small cry of relief Jannat tried to stand up as he strode into the room.

  “My Reza!” she exclaimed. “You are safe! I think you are just in time! I waddle like a duck these days, I am so full of our child.” She laughed as he held her gently in a long embrace. He winked at Rav’an, who had risen to stand holding a small bundle in her arms. “I am so glad you are safe with us, Reza. We have been worried,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

  “It was just a little bit tight at times, but we managed to extricate ourselves from a serious problem.”

  “Come, sit with us and tell us all about your adventure,” Jannat invited him.


  He squeezed her gently. “I must first see how Guy is doing. Where is he?”

  “He is with Theo, and they are in the spare bedroom upstairs.”

  He kissed Jannat and went upstairs to see how Guy was being treated. He was sitting up in bed with his chest bandaged and some evil smelling grease on his battered face. He grunted a greeting when Reza appeared. Reza grinned at him and took the huge hand that was proffered.

  “You saved my life, my friend,” Guy said, through cracked and swollen lips. “Thank you, I shall not forget.”

  “I wouldn’t have bothered, but we still need you to captain our ship,” Reza laughed.

  Guy rolled his eyes and tried to smile, then nodded over towards the window. “Our lady has much in the way of physician skills, thanks be to God.”

  Theo had been grinding something in a small stone bowl when Reza arrived. She beamed at him and walked over to join them, still holding the bowl. “We have all missed you!” she said, sounding very happy to see him.

  Reza smiled at her, then turned to Guy. “You are with the best of physicians, my friend. Get well soon. We have a lot of questions for you.”

  “Questions later, Reza. What he needs is rest and peace,” Theodora told him.

  “Then I shall see you later. Thank you, Theo. I know he is in good hands.” Reza pecked her on the cheek and left.

  Gabros and his two men—he was relieved to see that one was Nestongus, his best man—brought their staggering, lathered mounts to a halt in front of the city walls and waited for the gates to be opened. The horses were blown and the men thoroughly shaken; no one spoke of the horror they had experienced on the slope of the mountain. Brave and ruthless men though they were, they simply couldn’t comprehend what had happened.

  “Open the damned gates!” Gabros croaked. He longed for a drink.

  Finally the gates groaned apart and the three men rode their horses in at a walk. The sentries on the walls were smirking, pointing and snickering amongst themselves as they watched the beaten men enter. Waiting for them just inside were Malakis and Asanes. Neither man was smiling, and they had a contingent of palace guards behind them.