Not all of the amir's visitors were men. Many of the nobles brought women with them, and these, from what I could see of them, were even more magnificently arrayed than the men-although they hid their splendour under long hooded outer cloaks or gowns which covered them head to toe, and they wore veils across the lower parts of their faces so that between hood and veil, only their eyes were visible. But such eyes! Almond shaped and black as sloe, with long lashes and brows thin and dark and delicately curved.
It put me in mind of Sydoni and I spent a long time happily thinking about her-until I remembered my grave predicament. If I had not been such an impetuous fool I would no doubt be with her now. My thoughts grew so forlorn and pitiable, that I was forced to put them off at last. It does no good to wallow in regret. What might have been is as impossible as what can never be.
After awhile one of my guards fell asleep. As I had been standing in the sun for a goodly while, I sat down. The other guard did not like this; he hissed at me and gestured for me to stand up again, and I obliged. Soon, however, he was fast asleep, too, and so I sat down again and pulled my siarc over my head to keep the sun off me while I waited.
The sun passed midday and began its long slow descent into the west. Still, I sat in my place, dozing now and again, and waiting for the amir, and still people came and went on errands of fealty and homage. As the sun began to stretch my shadow towards the entrance to the tent, I heard horses approaching.
A party of Arab chieftains was riding into camp. I climbed to my feet and, as they dismounted, I darted in among them and started for the entrance to the amir's tent. One of the Arabs called for me to stop. I paid him no heed and kept walking. One of the guardsmen, roused by the shouting, woke up and saw me, however; he rushed upon me and dragged me back to my place where he was joined by two others and all three began shouting and raining blows upon my head.
I do not know whether the disturbance I raised outside his tent drew the attention of the amir, but as I was lying on the ground, trying to protect my head and neck from the fists of the soldiers, a man suddenly appeared in the midst of the commotion.
He barked a single sharp word of command and the men ceased their attack. I looked up to see the Atabeg of Albistan, the same who had captured me days before. He recognized me, too, and bade me rise; he pointed towards the tent and I saw the amir himself standing at the entrance surrounded by advisors and liegemen. He was frowning mightily, none too pleased at the interruption of his affairs.
Rising slowly, I dusted myself off, and prepared for whatever would happen next.
The unhappy amir beckoned his attendant nobleman to him. The atabeg put his hand on my arm and pulled me away from the guards, and I was brought before the amir where I was made to kneel at his feet. This was to humble me, but I did not greatly mind. It is no shame to acknowledge one who is above you, and inasmuch as I was a lowly hostage in his camp, Amir Ghazi was certainly superior in every way.
The black amir scowled down at me. I cannot say what passed in his mind, but I bowed as I had seen the other noblemen do, touching my forehead to the ground, and then, employing my best Greek, said, 'My name is Duncan of Caithness, and I am a friend of Prince Thoros of Armenia.'
He glared, and spoke a word of command and one of his advisors approached on the run. This fellow-an Armenian, I believe, for in manner, dress, and appearance he was very like those I had met at the banquet in Anazarbus-was an ungainly, sallow skinned man, with a large eagle-beaked nose and smooth, hairless jowls like the wattles of a pig, he cast a dour, pitiless black eye over me. 'Who are you?' he asked in Greek, suspicion thickening his reedy voice.
I repeated what I had said before, and added, 'I am a pilgrim from a country in the far north-west, where I am a lord and nobleman. I befriended young Lord Roupen, brother of Prince Thoros, and son of Leo, and became his protector. I was leaving Anazarbus, and blundered upon the battle by mistake.'
I could tell he did not believe me; he looked me up and down as if measuring for a coffin. 'See how I am dressed-are these the clothes of a crusader?' His frown of disbelief deepened. 'Also, we are speaking Greek,' I added.
'Badly,' he sniffed, unimpressed.
'Tell me your name,' I commanded.
The Armenian stiffened slightly at my audacity. But he was well accustomed to taking orders, and replied, 'I am Katib Sahak of Tarawn, advisor to Amir Ghazi.'
I thanked him, and said, 'I ask you now, Katib -'
'Just Sahak only,' he said. 'Katib is an Arab word. It means scribe.'
'I ask you, Sahak, do the Franks speak Greek?'
At this, the Armenian turned and held close conversation with the amir, whose interest pricked slightly when he heard what Sahak had to say about me. Breathing a fervent prayer, I said, 'I had no part in Bohemond's army, and took no part in the battle. I was a guest of Prince Thoros and was captured by mistake. I was with three others when this man captured me.' Pointing to the atabeg, I said, 'Ask him if this is not so. The others were able to escape. I alone was captured.'
Sahak discussed my story with the atabeg, who nodded, which I took as confirmation that I was telling the truth. 'The Atabeg of Albistan agrees that it happened the way you say,' the scribe confirmed. Ghazi spoke up then, and Sahak added, 'The amir demands proof.'
Looking directly at the amir, I answered, 'Tell him I can prove I have come from the prince's household.' When my words were interpreted for the amir, I said, 'This was given to me by Princess Elena for aiding the return of her son, Roupen.'
So saying, I pulled the neck of my siarc down and twisted it inside out to reveal the brooch I had pinned there the day I left Anazarbus. Sahak's eyes went wide with amazement. 'If you will look closely,' I said, directing their attention to the carved ruby, 'you will see that it bears the royal emblem.'
I showed the gem to each of them in turn. Ghazi and the atabeg exchanged a few words, and the amir issued his command. 'Give me the brooch,' the Armenian translator said.
I refused, saying, 'The amir has said the noblemen are to be ransomed. This,' I held the brooch before them, 'is to be my ransom. What is the word for ransom?' I asked. 'In the amir's tongue, what is the word?'
'Namus'lu keza,' replied the advisor.
Tapping the brooch with my finger, I repeated the word. 'Namus'lu keza,' I said, and prayed they understood what I was trying to tell them.
The amir made up his mind. Speaking gruffly, he held out his hand to me.
'Amir Ghazi says you are to give him the jewel.'
I hesitated.
'You have no choice,' Sahak informed me. 'You are to give it to him now. It will be sent to Anazarbus to inform them of your capture.'
With great reluctance, I obeyed, unfastening the brooch and placing it in the amir's palm with a last appeal. 'Namus'lu keza.'
The amir closed his hand over the brooch, turned on his heel and walked away, pausing to toss a word of command to the guards as he retreated to his tent. They took hold of me and I was taken back around the lake to resume my place with the captives.
Girardus was glad at my return to the fold, so to speak. 'I never thought to see you again,' he confided. 'They are saying the amir is holding court, and judgements are being given.'
'It is true,' I told him. Other captives gathered closer to hear. 'The amir is indeed holding court, and he seems to be renewing the loyalties of his vassal lords.' I went on to describe what I had seen of the comings and goings of all the noblemen and women and gifts they brought.
When I finished, Girardus, who had assumed they had taken me away to be tortured or beaten, asked, 'What did they do to you?'