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"Peace, old woman," I said, trying to soothe her. "We make no accusations."

"They try to trick you sometimes," she told me breathlessly. "They leave things for you to find, and then they say you steal them. I am no thief." She shook a finger at the packet in my hand. "I found it. I did not steal it."

Faysal brought the lamp near, and I bent to my examination. "It is parchment," I said, turning it over in the light, "bound with a strip of cloth…and, here-here is the governor's seal." Above the seal, written in a thin, spidery hand were two words: the first was basileus, I could not make out the second. "It may be for the emperor."

Slipping the cloth band from the packet, I made to break the seal. Faysal counselled against it, saying, "I think we should leave before someone finds us."

The old laundress had begun sobbing again. "Three years I have worked for this house!" she moaned. "I am an honest woman. Where will I find another house?"

"Come," Faysal urged, "we can do nothing here."

Stuffing the packet into my belt, I turned to the old woman. "You do not have to stay here. You can come with us if you wish."

She looked at me with her damp eyes, then glanced at the governor's body. "I wash his clothes," she said. "I am an old woman. I will stay with him."

Stepping quickly to the door, Faysal motioned me to follow. I rose slowly. "The danger is past," I said. "I do not think the killers will return. You can get help in the morning." The old woman made no reply, but turned her gaze once more upon the bloodied body lying beside her.

Back down the stairs, through the corridor and into the vestibule, we fled. With trembling hand, I returned the lamp to its stand, and crept to the door. I put my hand to the handle, pulled open the door slightly, and slipped out.

Sayid appeared at once, stepping from the shadows to motion me forward. "Swiftly!" he hissed. "Someone comes."

Glancing to where he pointed, I saw a man ambling towards us; he was, perhaps, thirty paces away. Even as I looked, the man halted. "He has seen us," Faysal said. "Hurry! This way!"

Faysal turned and fled down the street. In the same instant, the man began shouting. "Thieves! Robbers!" he cried, his voice echoing down the empty street. "Help! Thieves! Robbers!"

We ran to the inn where we had left the horses under Nadr's vigilant eye; he passed me the reins to my mount and I swung up into the saddle. "Lead the way," I called. "We are behind you."

At a sign from Faysal, Sayid rode out; I could still hear the fellow crying for help as we clattered back along the deserted street-passing the startled man once more. Despite his cries of robber and thief, the streets remained empty and quiet; save for a skulking dog or two that barked as we passed, Sebastea slept undisturbed.

Upon reaching the north wall, we turned off the main street and continued along a narrow passageway until we came to an unused guard tower, beneath which a small, lean-to hut had been erected beside the low wooden gate. Sayid dismounted before the hut, and slapped the crude door with his hand. A thin weasel of a fellow poked out his head, squinted at the mounted warriors and complained, "I never agreed to so many!"

"Be quiet!" warned Sayid. "Open the gate."

"But you never said there would be so many," the gateman protested, stepping cautiously out of his hut.

"You are well paid for the work of a moment," Sayid said. "Now open the gate."

The gateman withdrew his keys reluctantly. "Opening the gate is, as you say, the work of a moment," he allowed. "Forgetting what I have seen this night…whether such a thing is possible, I am far from certain."

"Perhaps," said Faysal, jingling coins in his hand, "these will help you to perform the impossible." Leaning from the saddle, he extended his hand.

The gateman reached expectantly towards the offered coins. Faysal raised his hand. "When the others are through the gate," he said. "Not before."

"The others?" wondered the gateman, his eyes growing wide. "I see no one here. Oh, already I am becoming so forgetful."

The oily fellow turned to his task and, in a few moments, the gate creaked open. A steep road led away from the wall, blue-white in the moonlight against the black of high-mounded banks. The gateway was narrow and low, forcing us to bend double in the saddle. Once beyond the wall and its banked-earth ramparts, the road swung towards the east. We rode west, however, and made our way more slowly across fields and grazing land, arriving back at camp as the last light of a setting moon traced the domes and spires of the city in lingering silver.

When daylight transmuted night's silver to morning's red gold, I would, I believed, at last hold the answer to the mystery of Nikos's betrayal.

66

Your business in Trebizond can wait," Theodore said bluntly. "The amir must not be moved."

"You said he would be able to travel."

"In a few days, perhaps," the physician allowed, "and even that is too soon. The amir has survived a most delicate procedure. Now he must rest if his wound is to heal properly. Given time, I have no doubt he will regain his former strength and well-being."

"Unfortunately, there is no time," I insisted. "Need is upon us; as you see, we must leave at once."

We spoke outside the tent as men broke camp and prepared to depart. Faysal stood nearby, a frown deepening on his brown face.

"Then I suggest you leave the amir with me. My house is large; I will care for him there. Never fear, I am well acquainted with the requirements of noblemen. When Lord Sadiq has recovered sufficiently, he can follow."

"Your offer is tempting as it is gracious," I replied. "However, we are hard pressed to continue our journey as best we may. The amir himself would agree-indeed, he would demand it if I did not."

"Then, it is my duty to tell you that the amir will not survive such a journey. If you persist, you will kill him."

Shouldering this grim responsibility, I replied, "We are grateful for your service." Motioning Faysal to join us, I said, "Faysal will reward you now. Go in peace."

The physician accepted his payment and said no more. He collected his tools, woke his slaves, and departed, his dire pronouncement hanging over me like a curse. Once he had gone, I commanded the rafiq to make ready the amir's riding sling, and by the time the rose-pink sun cleared the eastern ridge, we were well along the Trebizond road. Speed was our most reliable ally, I reckoned, for if we maintained the pace I had begun, we would reach Trebizond before news of the governor's death. Any messengers would be forced to go by the same road on which we journeyed; to do otherwise would take too long, and should anyone try to overtake us, we would certainly apprehend them long before they could come near. Not forgetting the last time I had travelled this same road, I kept scouts ranging far ahead to prevent us rushing into another ambush.

Though I bitterly regretted the urgency, I pressed ahead relentlessly, my cold heart fixed on Byzantium and the confrontation to come. Time and again, my hand strayed to the folded document beneath my robe. That square scrap of parchment, hastily scrawled in Honorius's hand, exposed the wicked heart of Nikos's treachery.

Upon our return to camp, I had immediately opened the packet and read out the letter contained within. That Honorius had written it, I had no doubt; I recognized both the hand and signature from the letter the eparch had received. Faysal, holding a torch near, watched the expression on my face as the dire truth came clear.