"Indeed, and I would value your counsel, brother," I replied, and began to detail the convoluted path by which we had arrived at the place we now occupied. The elder monk listened, nodding thoughtfully from time to time-as if what I said supplied the answers to questions of longstanding concern. I finished by explaining my speculations on what had happened to the governor. "Regretfully, Honorius was killed before we could rescue him. I have no doubt the deed was carried out by the same faction of which Nikos is a member."
"This faction," Brynach asked, "have you discovered its identity?"
"They are Armenians, for the most part," I told him, "and adherents to a heretical sect known as Paulicians."
"I have never heard of them," said Dugal, struggling to imagine why these people should wish him ill.
"Nor I," replied Brynach. "But then, there are many sects. Not all of them are heretical."
"Perhaps not," I conceded. "As it happens, they were cast out of the Holy Church and driven from Constantinople several years ago. Their faith has been anathematized, and their leaders declared enemies of the emperor. Persecution has forced them to become secretive."
"Granting what you say is true," Brynach said somewhat doubtfully, "why would these Paulicians concern themselves with us? We have done nothing to rouse either their wrath or interest."
"So far as I can see," I answered, "their aim is twofold: they hope to thwart the peace between Byzantium and the Sarazens, and they are also intent on murdering the emperor. Governor Honorius learned of their plans and was preparing to warn the emperor when he was made prisoner."
"What has that to do with us?" wondered Dugal, still struggling to imagine why people he had never heard of, much less seen, should wish harm on a handful of Irish monks.
"The eparch and his skilful negotiation of the peace was a threat to the Paulicians because the treaty abolished their safety in Arab lands from which they are allowed to raid with impunity," I explained. "The monks of Kells were merely unlucky-Cadoc wanted to see the governor, and Nikos could not risk allowing you to meet with Honorius and then returning to warn the emperor of the plot against him."
"We wandered into a hornets' nest unaware," mused Dugal, shaking his head at the wild caprices of fortune.
"That you did, brother."
Brynach, frowning under the oppressive weight this distressing knowledge produced in him, lifted woeful eyes to me. "So we are hastening to Byzantium to warn the emperor," he concluded.
"To warn the emperor, yes," I agreed, and added, "but also to bring Nikos to justice. I mean to confront him with his crimes and see him die the death he so richly deserves."
"What if you cannot reach the emperor?" Dugal wondered. "We were many days waiting to see him, and sure, we never did."
"We have the amir with us," I reminded him. "The emperor will be more than eager to meet with the man who can deliver peace with the Arabs. If we can but keep Lord Sadiq alive, the basileus will see us, never fear; and what is more, once he sees the governor's letter he will believe us." I saw no reason to mention my own pledge to bring word to the basileus, who would be more than eager to hear what I had to tell him.
Later, we left the shaded grove and moved out once more, some riding, most walking, silent as the shadows stretching along the road: a curious karwan, made up of horses and camels, lithe Sarazens and lumbering Sea Wolves, Christians and Muhammedans, veiled Kazimain and bearded Irish monks, the stricken amir in his swaying sling, and Faysal and myself walking side by side, leading the ungainly company. We had not been joined together by choice: our unlikely allegiance had been formed by circumstance and fate-kismet, the Arabs called it-but was no less strong for that.
Though the sun was still hot, the air was beginning to lose its heat. By the time the far hills turned purple in the dusky light, night's chill had begun seeping into the land. We journeyed through starlit night, silently, wrapped in our cloaks for warmth-only to cast them off again when the sun spread the eastern sky with its blood-red glow. When the heat-blast became unbearable, we sheltered in whatever shade we could find, thus completing the circle.
Each day was a duplicate of the one before-save that the land began to change as the hills became rough and craggy, the valleys deeper and more narrow. Though I saw Kazimain daily, we spoke infrequently, and then only about the amir's precarious condition; it occupied her every thought. She wore her worry well, bearing up with admirable fortitude; even so, the journey exacted its price. With each passing day, the distance between us grew the more. Concerns of my own prevented me from crossing the divide; I confess I did but stand aside and watch that gap increase.
Then we reached the place I dreaded most-where the road passed beneath high cliffs and the emperor's envoy had been ambushed.
