I listened with dread amazement at Wazim's gruesome tale. 'When did this happen?' I asked when he finished.
'Da'ounk, at the very moment you stood before the caliph's throne of judgement,' he answered, 'even then this black deed was taking place. Forty amirs-all dead,' he said, shaking his head at the grotesque audacity of it. 'Everyone is most upset.'
'I can see how that would be,' I allowed. 'What has become of the vizier?'
'The khalifa, as you know, was forced to send out the guards. They surrounded the vizier's palace and demanded Hasan to give himself up to them. He refused and there was a small battle.' Wazim paused to gulp down some air, and then hurried on. 'When the vizier's bodyguard saw it was futile to fight against the khalifa's soldiers, they surrendered and delivered Hasan to his father's troops. It is said they have taken the vizier out of the city to a secret fortress where he is to be held until Khalifa al-Hafiz can decide what shall be done with him.'
Now, Gait, that is how the matter sits at the moment. As Padraig so often reminds me: All things work together for the good of him who loves the Lord. Great of Heaven, this is my prayer even now.
Sydoni would not be left behind. While her father discussed suitable crew members with a sleepy harbour master, Sydoni offered to show us around the ship. Taking one of the small boats, Padraig and Roupen rowed us to where the trim Persephone was anchored, and we climbed up onto the deck. Once aboard, it quickly became clear that she had no intention of being put off.
When the last of the provisions had been brought aboard and stowed below deck, Yordanus turned to bid farewell to his daughter. 'Save your breath, father,' she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek, 'I am going with you.'
He was against it. There was a brief discussion and, of course, she had her way. The more I saw of Sydoni, the more convinced I became that if she wanted a thing, it was hers already – and no amount of argument would sway her; likewise flattery, threats, or reason. In this, I suspect, she was just like her father, and even he could not compel her against her will.
Thus, with the help of two additional sailors and a pilot, we set off well before midday. Persephone was a fine ship; neat and spare in its lines, but able to hold a sizeable cargo with ease. As we had no cargo, the pilot and his two crewmen were able to manage the ship almost entirely on their own. Once under sail, they required only an occasional hand from Padraig and myself, leaving us plenty of time to ourselves.
The first day at sea was a joy. The wind stayed light out of the west, but the ship surged along pleasantly. It felt good to be moving forwards with such efficiency and speed, and with such righteousness of purpose. Very soon our hearts were soaring and our worries seemed to recede like the island behind us. Quietly exhilarated by the inevitable success of our mission, I allowed myself to accept Yordanus' assurances that Bohemond could not possibly outrace us, and that we would reach Anazarbus to deliver our warning long before the greedy prince and his army. Thus, the pressing urgency of our flight began to recede.
Towards evening, dolphins gathered to sport before the prow. Sydoni liked watching them and, drawn by her exuberance, I joined her at the rail to see them leap and dive.
'They say that dolphins are naughty children who taunted Neptune from the safety of the shore,' Sydoni told me. 'In his anger, the god sent a great sea wave to sweep the children off their rock and drown them, but Old Nereus did not have the heart to see them killed, and so gathered them up and changed them into fish, instead.'
'I have never heard that story,' I said. 'But seeing how they play in the waves, I can well believe it.'
We watched the sleek dark shapes dart and glide, splashing in and out of the waves, slicing the wake with their agile fins and weaving trails of bubbles as they rolled and spun in the fire-rimmed water. On the deck behind us, the sailors had lit a small brazier, and the aroma of spit-roasted fish began to steal into the air.
'I love the sea,' Sydoni said lazily, resting her chin on her palm as she leaned on the rail. 'I have spent half my life on ships.'
'And Yordanus?' I asked, because the doughty old trader had gone below deck shortly after we left sight of land, and had not put his head above the boards since.
'He is the worst seaman on any sea,' she observed gleefully. 'The least little ripple in the water and poor Yordanus turns green and goes below.'
'Vexing for a man who must make his living aboard a ship.'
She looked at me for a moment, the setting sun glinting in her dark hair, and turning her dusky skin to warm, glowing bronze. 'Yes,' she agreed softly.
Even as she said it, I knew she had been about to say something else, to confide more personally, but had pulled back at the last instant. Silence fell between us, and I thought she would not say more.
With a last flash of pale underbelly, the dolphins dove down into the darkening water, disappearing in a trail of bubbles, but Sydoni did not seem to notice. She went on staring down at the waves, a pensive look on her face. 'I want to thank you for saving my father.'
I opened my mouth to dispute her claim, but saw that she was in earnest. 'Did he need saving?'
She turned her face towards the far horizon. 'He was dying in that house.' The way she spoke made it sound like a prison. 'He had lost interest in his food, his affairs, life itself-you saw how he was.'
'I see he has changed,' I agreed. 'He has become a very lion on our behalf.'
'Yes, and that is because of you. I am grateful.'
'My lady, I have done nothing. Your father has taken an interest in our troubles for reasons of his own, and has decided to help us. Believe me, I am the one who should be grateful-and I am.'
'I do not expect you to understand,' she said stiffly, and moved away along the rail.
That night we sat on the broad, uncluttered deck and ate flat bread and roast fish basted in olive oil and sprinkled with dried herbs and salt. The moon rose slowly in a clear sky and made the sea bright. Sydoni went below deck as soon as she finished eating, taking a little food for her father. Padraig, Roupen, and I sat and talked to the sailors, all three of whom had travelled to and from the Holy Land many times.
When the others went to bed, I decided to walk around the deck a little before going down to my berth to sleep. I strolled idly, letting the tranquillity of the night seep into my soul. My thoughts turned to prayers and I prayed for the family I had left at home, and for the swift and successful completion of our journey.
So occupied by my devotions, I did not notice that I was no longer alone. I heard a soft footfall beside me and glanced around to find Sydoni watching me. 'I am sorry to disturb you,' she said softly; not the least apologetic, she stepped nearer. 'I am finished.' 'A fine night,' she observed, tilting her face towards the heavens.
'I can never sleep when the moon is so bright and the air is so warm. I often sit out alone all night watching the moon and stars.' 'I have been known to do the same at home.' Still gazing skyward, she asked, 'Is it nice where you live?' 'It is very different from here,' I told her, 'and very different, I would think, from your home in Egypt.'