'Impossible!' scoffed Yordanus. 'You are surely mistaken. Commander de Bracineaux would never contemplate such a thing.'

'If there is another explanation, I will gladly hear it and repent if I am wrong. But I know what I saw.'

This news proved so distressing to Yordanus that Sydoni suggested we all sit down and discuss it together over our cups. 'The meal will be a little time yet. Let us get this unpleasantness behind us before we eat.'

Wazim roused himself from his nap as we filled our cups, but declined to join us as we sat down on the rugs beside the mast; Sydoni put him to work helping prepare the meal instead. I related what Sydoni had told me about de Bracineaux's insistence on negotiating with the caliph himself. 'If he sought audience with the caliph, I never learned of it,' I told them. 'The first I knew of his presence was when I saw him in the tunnel helping the Fida'in break into the treasure house.'

'Are you certain they were Fida'in?'

'I did not know who they were,' I replied, and explained that it was Wazim who identified them from my description.

'He might have been mistaken,' Yordanus pointed out. 'It is possible, no?'

'It is possible,' I allowed. I called across to Wazim, and asked him if he had any doubt about who we had seen breaking into the treasure house.

'No, my lord,' he replied. 'They were the Hashishin.'

'But you did not see them, Wazim, did you?' asked Yordanus. 'You did not see them with your own eyes.'

'I did not need to see them,' he said, 'I could smell them. They smelled of the hashish smoke.'

'Much of the city was in flames last night,' the old man pointed out shrewdly, 'how could you be certain it was the hashish?'

He had sown the seed of doubt, but I remained convinced. I asked Wazim if anyone had come to the caliph's court to arrange ransom for me. 'No, my lord,' he replied again. 'No one ever came.'

'Might someone have come without your knowing?' wondered Yordanus. Although his manner was tactful and kindly, I could see what he was doing, and it made me uncomfortable. Had I been too hasty in my judgement of the Templars? Perhaps imprisonment had soured my good opinion of Renaud.

'I am a good jailer,' the little man answered. 'I make it my business to know such things. If anyone came seeking ransom for one of my prisoners, I would know of it. But no one ever came to the palace to offer ransom.'

'Who approached you on my behalf, Wazim?' I asked.

'Father Shenoute sent word and summoned me.'

'That is the Holy Patriarch of the Cairo church,' explained Padraig. 'When Renaud seemed to have trouble arranging the audience with the caliph, Yordanus and I went to the patriarch and asked if he could help. Father Shenoute made a few inquiries and found that Wazim was well placed to help us.'

Wazim nodded. 'Father Shenoute said I would be doing God's will if I helped Da'ounk to gain his freedom. When the riots began, I saw my chance and took it.'

'There, you see?' said Yordanus. 'It might all have been a mistake. I might simply have succeeded where the Templars failed. It does not mean they intended betraying you in any way.'

I conceded the point. 'It may be as you say,' I granted, 'but one thing bothers me still. If they only wished to help gain my freedom, why did they go to the treasure house first? When given the chance, why did they not seek my release?'

'I suppose they hoped to secure the Holy Rood,' said Yordanus.

'That very thing above all else,' I said, trying to keep an even temper.

'Can you blame them?' said Yordanus. 'It belongs to the church at Antioch. Blundering Bohemond lost it and they have a sacred duty to get it back.'

'They chose the relic above my life,' I said. 'Yet they told you nothing about that part of their enterprise. Why would they hide it from you?'

Yordanus spread his hands. 'That is something we must ask Commander de Bracineaux when next we see him.'

'What do you propose?' Padraig asked. I could tell from his tone and glance that he, like myself, was uneasy with the prospect of allowing the Templars to get their hands on the holy relic again.

'My friends, I believe this has been an unfortunate misunderstanding. I propose we sail home to Cyprus and, with your kind indulgence, I will send word to Renaud to come and meet us in Famagusta to discuss these matters. After all,' he said, 'the good Commander Renaud helped us immeasurably in Damascus. Before condemning him, we owe him a hearing, I think.'

Sydoni came and called us to our dinner then, and no more was said about the matter that night. It did not sit well with me, but I tried not to let it spoil the festive mood which Yordanus and Sydoni strove to instil in the evening's celebration. After a few more bowls of ale and Sydoni's delicious banquet I succeeded in putting my doubts about Renaud and the Templars to one side and enjoyed myself despite the troubling black cloud of foreboding hanging over me.

The meal was an inspiration of wholesome flavours prepared simply to allow the unadorned beauty of each dish to please with its own particular appeal. There was fish, and slow roasted peppers with garlic, olives, herbed flat bread made by the village women, and-my favourite-little chunks of lamb soaked in olive oil, sprinkled with dried herbs and roasted with tiny onions over the coals on slender wooden skewers.

We sat on the deck and talked and ate as night deepened around us. The flickering fires of passing houses and settlements spangled the river banks even as the stars dusted the sky above with glowing shards of light. The moon rose late and spilled its light onto the water to turn the lazily swirling liquid into molten silver. After a time, Yordanus bade us good night and went to his bed, then Padraig and Wazim likewise, leaving me alone with Sydoni.

We talked long into the night, enjoying the balmy air and the gentle music of the water rippling along the keel and steering paddle. The pilot kept the ship in the deep mid-river channel; from time to time, one of the crewmen would come to relieve him, and he would lie down on his mat in the stern for a time, only to awaken a little later to take the tiller once more. It was a fine night for sailing, and I was glad to be out on the water. Looking up into the great bowl of the heavens and the star-flecked sky, with no bound or hindrance in any direction as far as the eye could see, I began at last to understand that I was truly free.

Some time later, Sydoni bade me good night and went to her bed, but I remained on deck gazing up at the stars and listening to the sound of the dark river as the ship slid along the slowly winding waterway towards the sea. I slept a little towards dawn, but woke again at sunrise and went at once to the stern. The sky was bright pink in the east with grey shading to blue above, and not a cloud to be seen. The river had broadened considerably during the night, and the nearest bank was now a fair distance away.

There were no ships behind us, but two smaller boats kept pace one behind the other just ahead. I asked the pilot how long they had been there, and he said they had joined us at sunrise. 'They are fishing boats,' he told me in crude Latin. 'Do not worry, my friend. No one follows us.'

I thanked him but did not relax my vigil, keeping watch through that day and the next. Only when we had put sweltering Alexandria behind us, and entered the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea, did I dare to believe we had made good our escape. Once under full sail, I allowed myself to rejoice in the knowledge that, despite the combined efforts of the Seljuqs and the Saracens, I was on my way home.

The voyage to Cyprus was swift and fair; the weather, though hot, was fine for sailing, and thanks to a favourable wind and bright, cloudless nights, we reached Cyprus in only three days. While the island was yet but a blue-brown hump looming in the sea haze, I prevailed upon Yordanus not to put in at Famagusta, but to use another port instead.