"It is customary for the ship to retain half of the prize, Hal demurred.
"Captain," said Nazet coldly, "in these seas the custom is set by His Most Christian Majesty."
"Then I must concur." Hal smiled ironically, but received no encouragement to further levity from Nazet.
"Any warlike stores or provisions you may capture will be purchased by the exchequer, and likewise any enemy vessels will be purchased by the navy."
She looked away from him as a scribe entered the chamber and bowed before handing her a document written on stiff yellow parchment. Nazet glanced swiftly through it then took up the quill that the scribe handed her, filled in the blanks in the script and signed at the foot, "Judith Nazet', and added a cross behind her name.
As she sanded the wet ink she said, "It is written in Geez, but I will have a translation prepared for you when next we meet. In the meantime, I give you my assurance that this letter sets out exactly the terms we have discussed." She rolled the document, secured it with a ribbon and handed it to Hal.
"Your assurance is sufficient for me." Hal slipped the rolled document into the sleeve of his tunic.
"I am certain you are eager to rejoin your ship, Captain. I will detain you no longer." With that dismissal, she seemed to forget his existence and turned her full attention back to her commanders and the clay panorama of the battlefield on the tabletop in front of her.
"You spoke of a series of signals, General." Despite her Uncompromising manner, Hal found himself strangely reluctant to leave her presence. He was drawn to her in the way a compass needle seeks the north.
She did not look up at him again but said, "Admiral Senec will have a signal book sent out to your ship before you sail. Bishop Fasilides will see you to where your horses are waiting. Farewell, Captain."
As Hal strode down the long stone passageway alongside the Bishop he said quietly, "The Tabernacle of Mary is here in this monastery. Am I right in believing that?"
Fasilides stopped dead in his tracks and stared at him. "How did you know? Who told you?"
"As a devout Christian I should like to look upon such a sacred object, "said Hal. "Can you grant me that wish?" Fasilides tugged nervously at his beard. "Perhaps. We shall see. Come with me." He led Hal to where Aboli still waited and then both of them followed him through another maze of stairways and passages, then stopped before a doorway guarded by four priests in robes and turbans.
"Is this man of yours a Christian?" he asked as he looked at Aboli, and Hal shook his head. "Then he must remain here."
The Bishop took Hal's arm and led him to the door. He spoke softly in Geez to one of the priests, and the old man took a huge black key from under his robe and turned the lock. Fasilides drew Hal into the crypt beyond.
Surrounded by a forest of burning candles in tall, many branched brass holders, the Tabernacle stood in the centre of the paved floor.
Hal felt an overwhelming sense of awe and grace come upon him. He knew that this was one of the supreme moments of his life, perhaps even the reason for his birth and existence.
The Tabernacle was a small chest that stood on four legs, carved like the paws of a lion. There were four carrying handles. Its square body was covered with a tapestry of silver and gold embroidery that had the patina of great age upon it. On each end of the lid knelt a miniature golden statue of an angel, with head bowed and hands clasped in prayer. It was a thing of exquisite beauty.
Hal fell to his knees in the same attitude as the golden angels. "Lord God of Hosts, I have come to do your bidding, as you commanded," he began to pray aloud. After a long while, he crossed himself and rose to his feet.
"May I see the chalice?" he asked deferentially, but Fasilides shook his head.
"Not even I have seen it. It is too holy for the eyes of mortal man. It would blind you."
The Ethiopian pilot guided the Golden Bough southwards in the night under top sails alone. With a leadsman taking soundings they crept up into the lee of Dahlak Island off the mouth of Adulis Bay.
Anxiously Hal listened in the darkness to the chant of the leadsman, "No bottom with this line!" and minutes later, "No bottom with this line!" and then the plop of the lead as it was swung out ahead of the bows and hit the surface. Suddenly the chant altered and the leadsman's voice took on a sharper tone. "By the deep, twenty!"
"Mister Tyler!" Hal barked. "Take another reef in your top sails. Stand by to let the anchor go!"
"By the mark, ten! "The leadsman's next cry was sharper still.
"Furl all your canvas. Let go your anchor!"
The anchor went down and the Golden Bough glided on a short distance before she snubbed up on the cable.
"Take the deck, Mister Tyler," Hal said. "I am going aloft." He went up the shrouds from deck to the top of the mainmast without a pause, and was pleased that his breathing was merely deep and even when he reached the canvas crow's nest.
"I see you, Gundwane!" Aboli greeted him, and made room for him in the canvas nest. Hal settled beside him and looked first to the land. Dahlak Island was a darker mass in the dark night, but they were a full cable's length clear of her rocks. Then he looked to the west and saw the sweep of Adulis Bay, clearly outlined by the fires of El Grang's army encamped along the shoreline around the little port of Zulla. The waters of the bay sparkled with the riding lanterns of the anchored fleet of Islam. He tried to count those lights but gave up when the tally reached sixty-four. He wondered if one of those was the Gull of Moray, and felt his guts contract at the thought.
He turned to look into the east and saw the first pale promise of the dawn silhouette the rugged peaks of Arabia, from which came El Grang's transport dhows laden with men, horses and provisions to swell his legions.