'Bohemond's defeat left Antioch's defences decimated,' Yordanus observed. 'The idiot prince had taken his entire force, leaving only the Templars behind. It was a foolish, foolish thing. Mark my words, he will answer for it before the Judgement Throne on the last day.'

I nodded, dipping my bread, and began to chew glumly. 'Amir Ghazi realized his great good fortune,' I told them. 'He did not waste a moment, but marched directly to Damascus to rally support for an attack on Antioch.'

'Aye,' agreed Yordanus readily, 'we were there when it came!'

'Commander de Bracineaux sent to Jerusalem for troops to help defend the city. We spent a fair few anxious days wondering which army would reach Antioch first-the Templars or Seljuqs,' said Padraig. 'In the end, it was the Templars who arrived first, but Amir Ghazi was close behind. The city had but two days to prepare, and then the Seljuqs appeared and promptly mounted a siege. At first it was not so bad, but as the siege wore on, a plague of dysentery broke out and good water became difficult to find.'

'If relief had not come from Jerusalem,' added Sydoni, pouring more wine for me, 'I do not know what we would have done.'

We ate our bread and sipped our wine, and though it felt strange to me after spending so much time imprisoned on my own, I found myself gradually adjusting to the pleasures of human companionship once more. Peculiar too, I thought, to hear someone speak of events that intimately concerned me, but which I knew only in part.

I looked at those gathered around me, glancing from one face to the next, silently thanking them for their fealty and perseverance on my behalf. Yordanus, keen as a youth, slender still, wearing his age but lightly… and beside him, Sydoni, she of the dark hair and soulful eyes, distant, watchful, a secret waiting to be known… Wazim, smiling, his brown head bobbing, traversing an uncertain world with quiet courage and bountiful good will… and Padraig, true friend of my soul, wise guide and boon companion for a pilgrimage or a lifetime… I was blessed beyond measure and, as the sun warmed my back, and the wine warmed my stomach, I knew myself to be held in the strong arms of a love greater than any I could have thought or imagined.

'What happened?' I asked, suddenly wishing the day would never end, that I could sit with these friends forever, just like this, and time would cease.

'After the Templars left Jerusalem,' Yordanus replied, 'King Baldwin sent to Jaffa and Acre for troops to help protect the Holy City in their absence. They were a long time coming, because soldiers are needed everywhere these days and few can be spared.' He shook his head ruefully. 'Bohemond's profligate stupidity will cost the Holy Land dearly, and for years to come.'

'Eventually, Baldwin succeeded in raising enough of an army to relieve Antioch,' said Padraig, taking up the tale. 'The siege lasted longer than Ghazi anticipated, and by the time Baldwin arrived, most of the Seljuq support had dwindled away. The rest fled at the sight of Baldwin's troops, even though there were fewer than seven hundred knights in all.'

'The Seljuqs have no heart for a pitched battle,' Wazim put in. 'Stand up to them and they turn tail and run. They are cowardly dogs all of them.'

'God knows it is true,' agreed Yordanus. 'No one was happier than we were to see Baldwin riding through the gates of the city leading the crusaders in triumph-all the more since he brought word that a few of Bohemond's knights had survived the massacre, and these were taken to Damascus to be ransomed. The Seljuqs set a high price on the survivors-ten thousand dinars.

'I still have many old friends in Damascus, and we made arrangements to go there at once-which we did. Unfortunately, things did not go well for us in Damascus. We encountered great difficulty in getting reliable information from the atabeg's courtiers. They told us you were there and they would release you if I paid the ransom. But when I brought the money, they could not find you.' He paused, shaking his head. 'We feared you had been executed.'

'Prisoners without ransom are often killed for the pleasure of their captors,' offered Wazim.

'But then Renaud arrived,' said Padraig.

'He came to Damascus?' I could not keep the suspicion out of my voice. Sydoni marked my distrust with a knowing expression, although no one else seemed to notice. 'Why?'

'Also to ransom prisoners,' Yordanus replied. 'It was fortunate for us that he came when he did, because he was able to discover what had happened to you.'

Yes, I thought-no doubt the Fida'in told him. To Yordanus I said, 'You learned I had been taken to Cairo.'

'And so we came on as soon as we could.'

'When did you arrive?'

'Seven days ago,' said Padraig.

I tried to work out in my mind what day that would have been, but I could no longer remember where one day left off and another began. 'Then you were here before the trouble started?'

'Wazir Hasan slaughtered the amirs but two days ago,' Wazim said.

'Yes,' agreed Yordanus, 'that was when the trouble began.'

'I see.' I knew in my bones I was right about Renaud, but I did not care to speak ill of him before Yordanus, who was his friend.

'You look troubled,' said Padraig. 'Is something wrong?'

'I am tired,' I said. 'I have not talked so much in a long time. I had forgotten how taxing it can be.'

'You should rest now,' suggested Sydoni. 'There are quarters below deck where you will not be disturbed.' She rose. 'Come with me, I will show you.'

'Yes, go with her. We can talk again this evening,' the old man said. 'Sydoni, make him comfortable.'

I rose to my knees and, taking up the Black Rood, placed it in Padraig's hands-along with the responsibility of looking after it. 'Do you think you might find a safe place for this?'

'Gladly and with honour,' he said, accepting the precious relic with a bow of respect.

I retrieved my mantle and followed Sydoni forwards to a hatch in the deck with wooden steps leading down to a small, bare room set apart from the larger holding area below deck where cargo and stocks of provisions were kept. Quiet and dark-the only light came from a small grated opening in the deck above-it was the room she and her father shared, and it contained two low straw pallets set in boxes between the great curving ribs of the ship's hull. The pallets were spread with linen cloths and cushions to make a soft, inviting bed.

I thanked her and sat down on the edge of the box to remove my boots. She watched me for a moment, making no move to leave. 'I owe you a very great debt of gratitude, you and your father,' I told her. 'I intend to repay you-at least, I mean to try.'

She smiled. 'There is no need.'

I thanked her again, but instead of leaving me to sleep, she sat down on the edge of the box beside me, and I caught a beguiling whiff of sweet sandalwood and spice from her clothes and hair. 'You are worried about de Bracineaux.' She arched an eyebrow as if daring me to contradict her.

'Is it so obvious?'

'Not to my father, perhaps,' she allowed, 'but he tends to see only what he wants to see.'

'And you, Sydoni? What do you see?'

'I see a man who winces every time the Templar's name is breathed aloud.'

'I do not wince.'

'Like an old woman with a toothache.'

'An old woman…' I did not care for her choice of comparison.

She laughed and the sound charmed even as it humbled. 'It is something to do with the Holy Rood.'

'Yes,' I admitted. 'I know that much is obvious.'

She nodded, waiting for me to say more. When I did not, she sniffed, 'Well, you do not have to say anything if it taxes you overmuch.'

'I want to tell you. It is just that it is not so easily told.'

'People only say that,' she observed tartly, 'when they cannot decide how much to leave out.'