‘But he would go on guarding the Eye?’
‘It is not thought he considered that, since his aim was, as I have said, to gain favour; although in fact he did continue to be the Eye’s Guardian. However, as he was fetching the Eye from its hiding place and preparing to take it to the Mehmeds, he was overcome by a trance and he received what he believed to be a message. Obeying what he thought the Eye had ordered, he warned the Mehmeds that a day would come when they would have to give up their great treasure in exchange for something that they valued even more. Laughing, heady with the powers of the Eye as described by the Guardian, they took little note.’
‘But then along came my father.’
‘As you say, along came Geoffroi d’Acquin. Along came a Frankish knight of rare compassion, who saw a terrified child in mortal danger and who saved the boy’s life at the risk of his own. And Mehmed — that is, the man who was head of the Mehmed family at the time — recognised that this was the event that had been predicted when the family first gained possession of the Eye.’
‘It was a great gesture, nevertheless, to let the treasure go,’ Josse commented.
The dark man smiled. ‘Ah, you are as lacking in cynicism as your father,’ he murmured. ‘When the Mehmeds were told that they would one day have to yield up the Eye, they were also told that if they did not give it away when the moment came, its power would be lost to them. Oh yes, they would still possess a pretty and valuable jewel, but its unique abilities would no longer serve them; might, indeed, begin to work against them.’ He chuckled. ‘When he heard of Geoffroi’s brave deed and how he had saved Azamar, old Mehmed spent many long hours trying to calm fevers and test for poisons deliberately put in wine goblets. And a hapless servant almost lost his arm while Mehmed waved the Eye over the deep cut he had just made in it, in a fruitless attempt to staunch the bleeding.’ His eyes, still full of amusement, met Josse’s. ‘Mehmed did not give the Eye to your father until he was absolutely certain that it was of no more use to him.’
Feeling a strange sense of betrayal, as if the conclusion to a favourite folk tale had just been changed for something far less satisfactory, Josse said, ‘The little boy survived into adulthood, I am told.’
‘Azamar? Yes, he grew up to be a fine man, who has begotten many strong, healthy sons. He has been in his time a mighty warrior and, now that he is gradually becoming too old — and too precious — to wield a sword, he is a valued advisor to those who carry on the fight. He has the ear, they say, of Saladin.’
Has he, indeed? thought Josse. No wonder Prince John had made that somewhat bitter remark about King Richard and his knights not being entirely happy about Geoffroi’s having saved the boy’s life.
But the dark man was speaking. ‘. . has not forgotten Geoffroi d’Acquin,’ he said.
‘Eh? Who hasn’t?’
The stranger sighed. ‘Azamar. Who else?’
Josse wiped his hands over his face. He was finding it difficult to maintain his concentration, and he was sure there were questions he ought to ask, mysteries that could be solved, if he could only get his brain to work properly.
One matter, however, stood out clear, even to a man as weary as Josse.
‘You killed the Prince’s spy, and the young lad who was servant to Galbertius Sidonius.’ At this the stranger’s head shot up, and there was an expression of surprise on his face. ‘Oh, we worked out who was responsible for both deaths,’ Josse said fiercely. ‘You would not deny your guilt, would you?’
‘No, no.’ The man shook his head impatiently, as if he wished to brush the matter aside and proceed to something more interesting. ‘The first man I caught up with on the road up out of the river valley. I guessed that he was on his way to steal the Eye, for I had tracked the bearer of the Eye to England and knew him to be nearby. I killed the thief before he could carry out his intention, and I stripped the body and hid it in the bracken.’ He shook his head again, this time wonderingly. ‘I did not know then that the Abbey and the shrine lay so near, or I should have concealed the body more efficiently, somewhere that it would never be found.’
‘But it was found.’
‘I know, I know. You must believe me when I say that I am not usually so careless.’
He only regrets that he did not hide the body well enough, Josse realised, with a tremor of alarm. He does not rue the fact that he murdered the man; not one jot.
‘And the boy?’ he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.
‘The boy stole the Eye from his dying master, who was bringing it to you, Josse d’Acquin.’ The man sounded outraged. ‘He did not get very far before his conscience began to bother him, but by then he was in mortal dread that the monks from the Abbey would hold him responsible for his master’s death. He hid out in the fields and the hedges, seeking shelter in barns and outhouses when the weather grew chill. He had no food, and began to grow sick. He was making his slow way back here, I think to return the Eye and give himself up, when I killed him.’
‘But he was innocent!’ Josse protested. ‘He had no hand in Sidonius’s death — the old man was gravely ill, and it was his cough that killed him!’
Again, the look of surprise crossed the stranger’s face. Then he said, ‘Innocent? The boy had stolen the Eye! I took it from him; it is quite safe, you must not concern yourself, and-’
‘You murdered him!’ Josse cried. ‘Although the mark on the front of the throat was faint, it was noticed. What was it? A blow with the side of your hand?’
‘Yes.’ The man looked almost proud. ‘Such skills the Guardians have ever been taught.’
‘Aye, you’re a Guardian.’ Josse nodded. ‘I guessed as much. You followed my father and the Lombard from Outremer to Acquin-’
‘Not I,’ the man put in. ‘My father and his brother. They watched over the Eye while your father kept it, at Acquin, until my father died of a sickness that ravaged the region. Then, although I was quite young, I took his place. With my uncle I followed the man you call the Lombard back to his home. I was for killing him and returning the jewel to your father, but my uncle overrode me.’ A scowl crossed the dark face. ‘He said that the Lombard would repent of his theft, if we were but patient. He was right, but patience was not my way and I found the waiting cruelly hard.’ He shrugged faintly. ‘So we kept watch over the Eye there in the land of the Lombard until he came back north to Acquin, seeking Geoffroi, your father. We followed him, and then my uncle died. He was weak and old, and the long journey proved too much for him. The Lombard led me on from Acquin to England, eventually here to Hawkenlye.’ He said the word slowly and carefully, as if unaccustomed to it. ‘Although I did not know that he was heading here. I had imagined he would try to find you straight away. I lost him, briefly, which was when I killed the man who came hunting the Eye. But then I found him again. The rest, you know.’
Josse nodded slowly. ‘Aye. And I guessed much of what went before. You followed Galbertius Sidonius for much of his life, you and your father before you, and-’
The man held up his hands as if in protest. ‘This is what I cannot understand!’ he said, puzzlement clear on his face. ‘The man known as the Lombard, your father’s friend who stole the Eye from him and then tried to bring it back, you refer to him as Galbertius Sidonius!’