The Walls of Byzantium

CHAPTER SIX

MISTRA, SUMMER 1394

The Despot was not a man often moved to anger, but when he was, it was impressive.

Certainly, that was the opinion of Nikolaos Eudaemis, Kephale of Monemvasia and the Despot’s representative in that city. In theory he had the same powers as the Archon; in practice he was not even close.

Eudaemis had been summoned back to Mistra to explain why, after three months, some important elements of the marriage agreement, such as the handing back of Geraki Castle, had not taken place. Geraki was of particular significance since it was critical to the defence of the Vale of Sparta and its rich farmland.

Theodore was beside himself. ‘How dare he?’ he shouted, stabbing the papers on the table in front of him with his finger. ‘Is it not written there in the contract in black and white? Or perhaps the monks of St Sophia drank too much of their altar wine and couldn’t spell Geraki? Tell me, Nikolaos, which part of the contract does the Archon not understand?’

‘I don’t know, Majesty. He’s always too busy to see me,’ said the man wretchedly.

‘Too busy? Too busy to see the appointed representative of the Despot?’ yelled Theodore, his face purple with rage.

Simon Laskaris stepped forward. ‘Majesty-’ he began, but the Despot rounded on him.

‘Don’t, for once in your life, Simon, tell me to be reasonable! I’m sick of being reasonable! I’ve been reasonable for three months, written letter after letter and nothing has happened! Reasonable does not work!’ Theodore stopped suddenly and eyed Eudaemis malevolently. ‘Is he bribing you as well?’ he asked, his voice more even.

‘Majesty!’ cried the Kephale in shock.

‘Well, it wouldn’t surprise me. He seems to bribe everyone else,’ said the Despot moodily.

Simon Laskaris coughed, judging this change in tone to be a good time to intervene. ‘Sire,’ he said, ‘why don’t we allow Nikolaos to go and rest after his long ride and we can talk to him later when we’ve had more time to consider things. You’d like a rest wouldn’t you, Nikolaos?’

The Kephale looked at him with gratitude. He glanced at his sovereign, who was still watching him darkly. Then Theodore nodded. Eudaemis bowed his way backwards from the room, leaving the Despot alone with his Protostrator.

‘He’s taking bribes, isn’t he?’ said Theodore, looking at the door through which the Kephale had left.

‘Oh yes, lord,’ said Simon Laskaris cheerfully. ‘Do you imagine he could afford that Goulas mansion on the salary we give him?’

Theodore groaned. ‘Whom can I trust beyond you, Simon?’ He took his old friend by his arms. ‘I’m sorry for shouting at you.’

‘It’s nothing, lord.’ The Protostrator smiled. ‘And there are plenty of people you can trust. Alexis, for one. He’s outside waiting to give his report to you.’

‘Good, good,’ said the Despot, tiredly. He went over to the table and poured three goblets of wine. ‘Show him in.’

Alexis had been sent by his father to Monemvasia a week previously to check on reports that the fleet had yet to set sail to the support of Constantinople. He had travelled alone and incognito. Now he was walking through the door, his clothes and face grimed with the dust of a long ride.

‘Alexis!’ beamed the Despot, all signs of tiredness vanished. He walked over to embrace his godson and thrust the goblet into his hand. ‘How were the roads?’

‘Free of bandits, my lord. The country seems at peace since the Turkish raid, and the people are happy.’

‘That’s good, that’s good. And much praise must go to you and your men for keeping it so.’

Alexis bowed and turned to his father. ‘I’m afraid I heard no word of Anna, Father. They say she keeps to the palace and barely takes a step outside.’

Laskaris shook his head. It was unlike his daughter not to be curious about her new home. And what of the many letters he’d sent her, none of which she’d answered?

Theodore glanced at his friend. ‘I dare say she’s busy coming to terms with her new life, Simon. It must all be very strange to her.’

Simon was not convinced. He walked over to the table where the papers were laid out. ‘Lord, we have here a list of the Empire’s warships that have been resupplying in the deep-water ports around Monemvasia. Now, Alexis, are you able to tell us how many have left for Constantinople?’

‘None, Father.’

‘None?’ exclaimed the Despot. ‘But only last week we were told that eight were ready to sail!’

‘I know, lord,’ said Alexis. ‘But the Archon has ordered further repairs to them so they are to stay at the docks.’

‘He can’t do that!’ Theodore’s voice was beginning to rise again. ‘He knows how badly they’re needed at Constantinople!’

‘Alas, he can, lord,’ said Laskaris. ‘You will recall that in one part of our recent agreement, as reward for returning Geraki and giving us funds to rebuild the wall at Corinth, he was to take control of the provisioning of the fleet at Monemvasia. It seemed sensible given his experience.’

‘Why on earth did he want that?’ asked the Despot.

‘We assumed, lord, so that he could rake off some profit. It seemed a small price to pay for the extra efficiencies to the fleet. After all, he controls all the ports around there anyway.’

Theodore thought for a moment. He took another draught of wine. ‘So what do we do, Simon?’ he asked at last.

‘We take control of events, sire,’ replied the Protostrator. ‘We send a force to take control of Geraki in your name. And we do it without delay.’

‘And then?’

‘Then, lord, having shown that we are in earnest, you and I go to Monemvasia and demand that he release the fleet. He will have no choice but to comply.’

Theodore considered this. ‘And whom should we send?’ he asked eventually.

Laskaris looked at his son. ‘Alexis, are you ready to ride to Geraki?’

Alexis was not happy with the men riding behind him. They were Albanian mercenaries and he didn’t entirely trust them. But his men of the Guard had been away on exercise, so he’d taken what he could get.

There were only twenty of them, which Alexis judged to be a prudent number. Any more, and the garrison of Geraki would see it as an attack, and Alexis knew it would require thousands to take one of the strongest fortresses in Greece. No, for this mission to succeed he needed guile: guile and the authority of the Despot.

They had not left until midday but had covered the ground quickly and it was late afternoon when he saw the great bulk of the castle on a distant hill, its walls and towers dominating the plain around it. It was still flying the flag of the Mamonas.

Alexis wondered when the garrison would first see their approach. He spurred his horse faster and turned in the saddle to signal for his companions to do the same. It was vital that they gave the garrison commander as little time to think as possible.

The fortress was getting closer now and Alexis looked up at its battlements, shielding his eyes from the sun. Then he saw a puff of white smoke balloon into the sky and, a second later, a crack like thunder echoed like a shockwave across the plain. It was difficult to see across the distance but Alexis was certain that he’d seen the flash of sun on metal.

Cannon.

Was that why the Mamonases were so reluctant to give up their castle? Was it because they wanted to test their cannon there? And if they did, why did the Despot not know anything about it?

Who are the cannon for?

On the walls of the Castle of Geraki, Richard Mamonas narrowed his eyes to better see the small party of horsemen racing across the plain as if the very devil was behind them.

‘Is there a flag?’ he asked an officer by his side.

‘No, sir, and they’re riding too low in the saddle to see their hauberks. But they’re coming from the direction of Mistra. Would you like us to intercept them? I could send a party, but we’ll have to move quickly. They’re almost at our gates.’

‘Send forty mounted crossbowmen with someone you trust,’ ordered Mamonas. ‘Whoever they are, I don’t want them in the castle. Understood?’

Minutes later, the forty crossbowmen were assembled in the square of the castle and were ready to ride. The huge doors were slowly being winched open and more archers were mounting the battlements around the castle gate to provide support if needed.

The captain of the party was about to issue orders when there was a shout from the direction of the keep. Richard Mamonas was striding across the square, buckling on his sword as he came.

‘You may stand down, Julius. I will lead this one myself.’

Out on the plain, Alexis had just signalled the order for his men to sit up in their saddles, and twenty Palaiologian crests, the two-headed eagle of Byzantium, came into the view of the garrison watching them from the battlements.

Up ahead, he could see the castle doors slowly rolling open and the first of a troop of horsemen canter out to meet them. Except for the man in front, all were carrying crossbows.

How many of them were there? Alexis counted thirty, then forty riders. They were outnumbered two to one.

The lead rider reined in his horse as he approached Alexis and, at a signal, his troop fanned out to form a crescent around the Albanians. Then they stopped and lifted their crossbows into the aim. Forty catches were unlocked.

Alexis recognised the man in front of him from the wedding. He knew him to be a Mamonas and racked his memory for a name.

‘Richard Mamonas at your service,’ said the man helpfully, bowing from the saddle. ‘And you are Alexis Laskaris. I believe we met at my cousin’s wedding to your sister.’

‘Of course. It is a pleasure to meet you again. I come on the orders of our Despot.’ Alexis paused and looked around him, smiling carefully. ‘The wedding you most graciously remember me from was, I was led to understand, the mark of a new friendship between our two cities. Was the news perhaps not passed on to your men?’

Richard Mamonas patted the air beside him and forty crossbows were lowered. But they remained unlocked.

‘Excellent!’ beamed Alexis. ‘Now perhaps we might discuss this business of the Despot’s inside the castle? It’s hot out on this plain and I am croaking for some wine.’

But Mamonas didn’t move and nor did any of his troop. Alexis heard muttering from the men behind him and he held up his hand. Then he moved his horse closer to Richard’s. He leant forward in his saddle and spoke softly, the smile still on his face.

‘Mamonas, I mean to enter this castle. I am doing so on the orders of the Despot … your despot, in case you’d forgotten. Now please move aside.’

But Richard Mamonas didn’t. ‘I’m sorry but I cannot allow that to happen. I have very clear orders from the Archon.’

Alexis looked surprised. ‘And who rules the Despotate of Mistra, Richard, your archon or our despot?’

There was silence. The two men locked gazes, and there was no compromise in their eyes. Alexis tried another tack. He kept his voice low.

‘Is it the soldiers?’ he asked. ‘If it’s my escort that’s troubling you then I can leave them outside.’

Still no response.

Alexis cocked his head on one side as if he were considering something. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

‘Of course!’ he said, slapping his thigh. ‘Of course! It’s the cannon! But the Despot will be delighted when I tell him. They’ll be so useful against the Turk. I assume that’s what they’re for, aren’t they?’

For the first time, Richard Mamonas looked uncomfortable. Someone said something behind him. The garrison soldiers had assumed that the cannon were to be used against the Turks and it came as a surprise to learn that the Despot knew nothing about them.

Alexis decided to press home the advantage. He backed his horse away from Mamonas and addressed the garrison soldiers directly.

‘All of you know that, by the terms of the recent treaty drawn up between the Despot and Archon, this castle is to be handed over to the Despot’s command. You know this because the terms were displayed in your city’s square. I am here to take that command.’

He looked slowly along the line of the men, all of whose eyes were fixed on his. ‘I know that you are soldiers of the Archon, but your first loyalty is to your emperor in Constantinople and to his brother who rules here in this despotate. Our common enemy is the Turk. And if we want to remain Christian and to stop our families from being sold into slavery, then we can no longer fight between ourselves. We must unite behind our despot.’

Richard Mamonas looked at his soldiers. Some had lowered their crossbows and all were listening intently.

But Alexis wasn’t finished. ‘I am now going to ride my horse through that gate. And when I’m inside, I will order the lowering of the Mamonas flag and the raising of that of the rightful ruler of this castle: the Despot.’

His eyes swept over the men again. ‘If any of you wants to stop me, you have only to pull a trigger. But if you pull that trigger, then our land will be plunged into another civil war and the Turks will rejoice. The choice is yours.’

There was complete silence. Even the Albanians, most of whom spoke no Greek, knew that something important was about to happen.

Alexis kicked his horse and rode slowly past Richard Mamonas, who moved sideways to let him pass. He began to ride towards the gate.

Then Mamonas looked up at the battlements and gave an imperceptible nod.

There was the sound of released bowstring and the blur of an arrow in flight. Alexis Laskaris fell from his horse to the ground.

In an instant, Richard Mamonas had leapt from his horse and had run to where Alexis was lying. It was an expert shot and the arrow was embedded deep in his lower neck, above the rim of his cuirass. Blood was oozing from either side of the shaft. He knelt beside him. He looked up. ‘Who fired that shot?’ he shouted. ‘Bring me the man who fired that shot!’

Alexis was white with agony and had rivulets of sweat coursing down his cheeks. His breathing was laboured but he was trying to say something.

‘Don’t speak,’ said Mamonas gently. ‘The arrow is deep. But I dare not move it lest you die from the shock. We must get you to a surgeon.’

He stood up at the sound of approaching footsteps to see an archer being dragged forward between two guards. ‘Did you fire that shot?’

The archer looked confused. ‘Yes, lord, but-’

He never finished the sentence because Mamonas stepped forward, drew his dagger and plunged it into the man’s heart.

‘Take the body away and bury it,’ he said.

Thirty miles away, Anna was sitting in her bedroom at the palace, trying to read. She had a headache.

She seemed always to be getting headaches these days, which was strange since she’d rarely had them before. She supposed that it might be because she was taking so little exercise. She was used to riding out daily but here, whenever she’d asked, some excuse had been found as to why she couldn’t.

At least she hadn’t had to meet her husband again. After that terrible night, she’d been moved to a different room. She hadn’t seen Damian for months.

There was a knock on her door. Anna hurried to open it.

It was Zoe and she was alone. She looked up and down the corridor before coming in. She walked over to the bed and sat on it. She leant forward and took Anna’s hands. ‘Something has happened,’ she said. ‘It’s Alexis. He’s been hurt.’

Anna felt faint and her knees nearly gave way. She uttered a little groan. ‘Hurt?’ she asked weakly. ‘How hurt?’

‘Badly,’ said Zoe. ‘He was shot by an arrow.’

The room seemed to spin around her and Anna had to hold on to the bedpost to stop from falling. ‘What … what happened?’

‘I’m not certain. It seems there’s been some sort of action at Geraki Castle. My father and brother were hearing of it from a messenger. The door was open.’ She paused, taking hold of Anna’s shoulders and drawing her to her breast. But Anna pulled away.

‘Where is he, Zoe? I must go to him. Will you help me?’

‘Of course,’ replied Zoe. ‘I am your friend. Geraki is a two-hour ride if you go fast. But you must leave quickly. My father won’t want this news to get out.’

Zoe helped Anna change into clothes suitable for riding, opened the door carefully and led her down the corridor to a small side door at the end. ‘This is a staircase the servants use,’ she whispered. ‘It leads down to the kitchens and you can leave by the rubbish door. There are no guards on it. Then you must make your way down to the stables. The rest is up to you.’

The stables were dark when Anna reached them and seemed unguarded. She couldn’t believe her luck. Perhaps the soldiers had sneaked off to some tavern in the nearby Cretan quarter.

She lifted the heavy latch of the big oak doors and pulled them open. Their noise startled some of the horses and Anna hushed them. The moon outside gave her enough light to see a row of stalls in each of which stood a horse, looking at her. Her eyes travelled along them until she saw her palfrey. She’d heard that it had recovered from the accident. She’d take the palfrey.

Finding a saddle leaning against the wall, and a bridle hanging above it, she moved quietly down the aisle until she was at the stall. A minute later she was leading the horse back towards the open doors, silently cursing the ring of its hooves on the stone. Then she heard a snort to her right, one she recognised. She walked over to Eskalon and pressed her cheek to the felt of his nose.

‘Wish us luck,’ she whispered.

The moon disappeared.

Someone was silhouetted in the doorway and whoever it was had armour and a sword. The figure was swaying. Anna could smell the beer from where she was standing.

‘Who’s in there?’

Anna decided to bluff. ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ she hissed from the darkness. ‘I suppose you can’t see who I am?’

She strode forward, still leading the horse, waving him out of her way as she passed into the moonlight. The man staggered back and stared stupidly.

Anna dropped the palfrey’s reins and walked up to the man, who towered over her. She sniffed. ‘I believe you are drunk,’ she said, looking up at him. ‘I wonder what the Archon will do when I tell him. What do you think he’ll do?’

The man scratched his beard.

‘What do you think he’ll do?’ she asked again.

There was a long pause while the man thought and Anna’s spirits began to rise.

This is working.

‘I think we both know what he’ll do,’ said Anna softly. ‘So I suggest you let me ride out of here and we’ll forget what has happened.’

Then the man found his voice. With an effort, he straightened himself and adjusted the sword at his side. He cleared his throat noisily and a sly look entered his eyes. ‘Lady, I know the Archon will punish me for abandoning my post. But he would do worse if he found that I’d let you ride out.’

Anna bit her lip. So she was indeed a prisoner. She decided to take a different tack. ‘Soldier, do you have a brother?’

The man looked bewildered. ‘I have three brothers, lady.’

‘And do you love them?’

‘I love them enough,’ he answered.

‘Well,’ said Anna, ‘my brother … my only brother, is lying at Geraki Castle and is badly wounded. He may die. I have to be with him.’

The soldier looked unpersuaded.

‘If you let me go to him,’ she went on, ‘I promise that you will take a rich reward from the Despot.’

The soldier said nothing and Anna felt her temper rising. ‘What must I do for you to let me go?’ she asked.

There was a long pause.

‘Well, lady …’ the soldier said slowly. The sly look had returned to his eyes. ‘… you’re a pretty thing and-’

He got no further.

There was a deep thud as something heavy connected with the back of his head. He pitched forward and lay senseless on the ground.

‘I didn’t want to hear the rest of that sentence,’ said Luke as he stepped forward into the moonlight. He looked with disgust at the body beneath him.

‘Have you killed him?’

‘I’m afraid not, lady, but he’ll have a sore head for some days. Come, help me to bind him. The guard is due to change in less than an hour.’

As they pulled the body away, Luke said, ‘That was a pretty speech. I almost thought you would win him over.’

‘I think I did, didn’t I?’

Luke smiled and stripped some linen from a hanging cloth to stuff in the man’s mouth. He took his sword and tucked it into his belt. Then he tied his hands. In the moonlight his own seemed oversized. Anna put her hand on his and saw how small it was in comparison. It was trembling.

‘Will you ride with me to Geraki, Luke?’

An hour later, the two of them were riding hard across open country. The moon was almost full and clouds straddled its face like worn curtains. The land was mostly scrub and rock for they were steering clear of the road. The landscape came and went around them, one moment a ghostly apparition, the next a mass of shadow.

The noise of the night had long since given way to the pounding of their horses’ hooves on the earth. But its smell was everywhere, and Luke filled his lungs with the aroma of flower, herb, vine and salt that was Mistra. He felt more alive than he had for months and thrilled to the feel of the air rushing past his temples, lifting his hair behind.

Beside him, Anna’s smaller horse was trying hard to keep up with Eskalon. Luke looked across and saw the dread in her eyes and he thought about the courage of this girl who’d been so badly used by those meant to protect her. Then he thought about what had happened at Geraki. Anna had told him what she knew as they’d ridden. But why would a Mamonas garrison want to hurt the son of the Protostrator so soon after their alliance had been sealed in marriage? It didn’t make sense.

Anna’s thoughts were only of her brother. She had no idea how badly wounded he was or who was tending to him but she knew that being with him, now, was the most important thing she had ever wished for.

He cannot die.

They crested a hill and Luke pulled Eskalon up to get his bearings. The road was beneath them, snaking dimly into the distance, and he could just see the hill of Geraki on the horizon. He thought they should probably return to the road since he knew that they were close to the deep gulley and he wasn’t sure exactly where it was.

Anna had stopped next to him, but before she could kick her palfrey into the descent, he held up his hand to stop her. He was leaning forward in his saddle, listening hard.

‘Did you hear something?’ she whispered.

‘The sound of a horse, maybe more than one. On the road ahead.’

She could hear it now. There was more than one.

Luke said, ‘We’ll have to let them go by. We can’t risk keeping from the road any more. Let’s hope they pass quickly.’

They turned their horses back down the lee of the hill and rode back to some trees where they dismounted and tethered them. Then they walked back to the crest and fell to their bellies to watch the travellers pass. The moon was behind a thick cloud and there was no sign of the approaching riders except the snort of horses and the jangle of bridles. They didn’t seem to be travelling at more than a walk. Then they heard something else: the squeak of wheels turning and the movement of heavier harness.

‘They’ve got a cart,’ whispered Luke. A horrifying thought was beginning to form in his mind.

Anna had had it too. ‘They couldn’t be moving him!’ she whispered in disbelief. She began to crawl forward.

Luke put his hand on her shoulder. ‘It might not be them. It could be anyone.’

‘Out here, at dead of night, with no lights?’ asked Anna. ‘I think it’s them.’

Just then the moon reappeared. Below them were four mounted soldiers, all with the unmistakable crest of the Mamonas on their hauberks, and a man driving a low cart. There was a dark shape in the back of the cart.

Anna gave a little cry and lifted her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. She tried to stand but Luke took her arm. He forced her gently to the ground and began to crawl back down the slope in the direction of the horses.

Luke had no plan. He had no idea what they would do when they got to the cart but he knew Anna had to be there and that every second counted. When they were clear of the crest, they got to their feet and ran back to their mounts. In seconds, they were spurring their horses back up the hill, Anna in front.

Suddenly she stopped and wheeled round to face Luke. ‘You can’t come with me. If they see you they’ll know you hit the guard and helped me to escape. You cannot come.’

Luke ignored her and kicked Eskalon to pass. She grabbed his bridle and pulled hard so that Eskalon was forced to turn his head and stop beside her. She held it tight and looked directly into Luke’s eyes.

‘Luke, you’ve done enough,’ she said. ‘He’s my brother.’

‘And it’s my empire,’ said Luke quietly. ‘I’m a Varangian, Anna.’ He leant forward. ‘If Alexis was shot, he was shot for a reason. I want to know why.’

He turned Eskalon and crested the hill, Anna behind him.

Richard Mamonas heard them before he saw them. He was talking to the wagon-driver when he heard a cry and the sound of hooves approaching fast from the hill to his left.

He pulled his horse to a halt and drew his sword. He could see two shapes galloping towards him, both with long hair strung out in the moonlight. One was a woman.

‘Why are you moving him?’ the woman screamed.

Mamonas cursed. She was supposed to be imprisoned in the palace. He didn’t recognise the man that rode beside her.

Anna had reined in her horse. ‘Why have you moved my brother from Geraki?’

‘We are taking him to Monemvasia,’ Mamonas said. ‘To a surgeon.’

‘But you’ll kill him!’ Anna spurred her horse over to the wagon and leapt to the ground. She ran to the back of the cart and climbed, as gently as she could, into it, kneeling in the straw beside her brother and taking his head in her hands with infinite care.

Richard Mamonas made a move to follow her but found himself looking at the tip of Luke’s sword.

‘Who did it?’

Mamonas glanced around. His men were too far away to intervene. He shook his head. ‘It was an accident,’ he said. ‘A simple mistake.’

‘Not so simple,’ said Luke.

He backed over to the wagon, his sword raking the air to left and right. He looked over its side.

Anna was sitting with Alexis’s head in her lap. The moon had re-emerged to bathe everything in a wash of grey and Alexis’s skin was as candle wax. Anna bent forward to kiss his cold brow. ‘What have they done to you?’ she murmured, tears rolling down her cheeks as she smoothed the hair at his temple. ‘My darling, what have they done to you?’

Alexis could hear her, but only just. The arrow was still in his neck and the sway of the cart had caused such searing agony that he had slipped in and out of consciousness until he no longer knew where he was.

But he knew that voice.

‘Anna …’ he murmured. ‘Can you … get me some … water?’

Anna looked up and found Luke. He swung his sword round to the wagon driver.

‘Water this instant or I’ll put this through you.’

The man hurried to find his pigskin sack. Luke passed it to Anna. She pulled out the stopper and brought it to Alexis’s lips, tilting his head forward to help him drink. She looked down into the face she loved more than anything on earth.

Alexis was drenched in sweat, his face shining in the moonlight. There were dark shadows around his eyes and he was feverish, his body shaking in spasms. His breathing was coming in rasps. Anna saw a clumsy bandage wrapped around his neck, its cotton black with congealed blood. She dared not remove it, yet she feared infection would set in if she didn’t.

‘Luke, we need a surgeon.’

Luke nodded. He turned to the wagon-driver. ‘Tell your officer to come here. Now!’

A moment later, Richard Mamonas was standing next to the cart.

‘We can’t move him any further. It’s killing him,’ Luke said. ‘Is there anywhere nearby that we can take him?’

Richard Mamonas thought quickly. This was unexpected and the man looked as if he knew how to use his sword.

‘I believe there is a barn where they store hay up ahead, perhaps half a mile,’ he said.

‘Good,’ said Luke. ‘We’ll take him there.’ He turned to Anna. ‘I know of a surgeon. I’ll ride back and get him.’

For a moment Richard Mamonas thought about stopping him, but Luke lifted his sword. There was an unmistakable challenge in his eyes.

‘I will go,’ he said quietly.

Mamonas stepped aside.

Then Anna reached over the side of the cart and took his arm. ‘Ride fast, Luke.’

An hour later, Anna lay on straw next to her brother with her head on his chest. Her eyes were screwed shut to prevent her tears from washing down her cheeks and on to his body. She was holding her breath so she could hear every pulse of the precious heart that beat beneath her.

They were alone in a barn that had holes in its roof through which the stars winked. There were stalls in shadow at one end, the single candle casting a very local light. The scene might have been one of nativity were it not for the blood.

Alexis had not spoken since they’d laid him there. He was deep within an ocean of sleep, and when he rose to its surface, his mouth would open and he’d cry out. His blood was all around him, pooled between the islands of straw. It was still oozing from the sides of the soldier’s shirt from which Anna had fashioned a bandage. The arrow was still inside him and she dared not remove it.

When will the surgeon come?

She heard a groan and lifted her face to his. His breath was hot and his tongue quivered between open lips. His eyes were open but unseeing.

‘Water.’

The flask was already in her hand and she brought it to his mouth, gently tilting it so that the water washed against his tongue. A trickle escaped and ran through the stubble of his chin.

How long has that been there? You are barely a man.

The groan again and an intake of breath. Alexis’s head moved. Was he trying to speak?

Anna raised herself to kneel beside him. She put her palm to his brow. ‘Alexis, what do you want to tell me?’

His head moved again and his face widened into grimace as his shoulder moved. He was looking at the arrow.

‘The surgeon is coming,’ Anna whispered. ‘He’s on his way. Luke went for him.’

He doesn’t know who Luke is.

‘Do you want to speak?’

‘Cannon,’ he said.

‘Cannon?’

‘They have … cannon. At Geraki.’

‘Don’t speak. Let me speak. Just move your head to reply.’ She frowned. Why was this important? Unless … ‘Are they for the Turk?’

It was a meagre movement, a fractional move of the head. Then he was asleep again.

Anna watched him for a long time, watched the sheen of life evaporating from his brow, watched the uneven, stuttered breathing that seemed to be slowing to a standstill. She moved with infinite care to lie beside him again. This time the heartbeat seemed fainter.

When will the surgeon come?

Three hours later, as the first hint of dawn began to creep over the horizon, he was there and Anna was praying.

Please God, don’t let him die.

She heard a cock crow somewhere in the distance and her stomach gave a lurch. She prayed with greater urgency.

Lord, he has ever been your good and obedient servant. If you wish for some reflection of your goodness here on earth, let him live.

But Alexis was so still. The only sign of life within him was the feeble rise of his chest and the rattle that had arrived in his throat. Was this the sound of death?

She looked at the surgeon kneeling at her side, washing the blood from his hands in a little bowl. Luke was sitting in the shadows and hadn’t spoken since he’d arrived with the man. They were the only ones in the barn.

‘Will he live?’ she asked, dreading the answer.

The surgeon was an Arab in his forties with kind eyes and the same long white hair as her father. She could see he was good at what he did and had tried his best. He didn’t answer but studied his hands as he rubbed them dry on the towel.

Anna looked at her brother. He was lying on a linen sheet that had once been white but was now drenched in his blood. Around him had been placed new candles so that he looked like a sacrifice. His head rested on a pillow and his mouth was slightly open, revealing teeth broken when he’d clenched them as the arrow was withdrawn. A clean white bandage was now wrapped around his neck and shoulder. His fever seemed to have subsided and, with his eyes closed, he looked almost at peace.

‘Will he live?’ repeated Anna.

‘Lady …’ he began.

‘Please, be honest.’

‘Lady,’ he began again, ‘you should know that the arrow has done great damage. Not only is his lung pierced but it has severed the cord at his spine. If he does live, it will not be for long. And it will not be a life.’

Anna rocked back on her haunches as his meaning tore through her mind. Her brother, who lived for the adventure of living, unable to move.

She heard movement behind her and Luke knelt down beside her. For one so tall, he made little noise.

But the surgeon hadn’t finished. ‘Some believe it is better to die than to live in such a state.’

Anna turned on him, sick with horror at what he was saying. ‘No!’ she whispered. ‘I will not kill my brother!’

There was a slight movement below them and they all looked down at Alexis. He had turned his head a fraction in her direction. His eyes were open and tears glistened on his pale cheeks. There was love in his eyes, love and entreaty.

‘Please.’ His voice was barely audible.

Anna gazed down at him through a film of tears. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘I won’t.’

‘Please, Anna,’ he pleaded, his voice a croak. ‘I want … to die.’

Anna leant forward to move aside the candles down one side of his body. Then she lay down gently beside him and stroked his cheek. ‘I love you more than anyone in the world, Alexis. I cannot kill you.’

There was a gentle cough above her and the surgeon spoke. ‘Lady, it is not for you. It is for him.’

She glanced up at him, his face a blur through her tears, before looking back at Alexis, who had closed his eyes again, his face resigned. He had fallen back into unconsciousness. She stared at him for a long, long time. Then she raised herself to her knees and pressed her lips together.

Luke was watching her intently. Then, without thinking, he put his arm around her shoulder and drew her towards him so that her head was resting on his shoulder. His strength passed through her body.

‘How would you do it?’ she whispered.

‘I have a potion,’ said the Arab. ‘It will be quick and it will be painless. I promise you.’

Anna looked down at the body of her brother. She stared into his face, smoothing back his hair. Then she leant forward and kissed him on his forehead.

‘Goodbye, Alexis,’ she said.