Anna let us in and, complaining about the lack of a timely warning, set about preparing a meal. Meanwhile, I secured the door to the courtyard. Yordanus watched me with a bemused expression, and when I was finished, asked if I was satisfied.
'It is stout enough,' I replied, rattling the iron bar in its holder. 'It will serve.'
'Good. Let us join the others and drink to a fortuitous return.'
As the main room of the house also served as kitchen, Anna would not allow us anywhere near the table until the food was ready; she chased us all back out into the courtyard where Padraig found a low bench and a number of stools, which he quickly arranged in a loose circle. Sydoni appeared with a jug of wine and an assortment of carved olivewood cups. She poured the wine and we all drank one another's health and prosperity, and long, happy, eventful lives.
'What will you do now, master?' Wazim asked me. I marked his use of that word-it was the second time he had called me that; the first time was in the tunnel.
'We will rest for a day or two,' I answered carelessly, 'and then Padraig and I will set about finding passage back to Caithness in Scotland.' I looked at the little Copt who had been my solitary friend in the caliph's palace. 'What about you, Wazim-what will you do?'
He thought for a moment. 'If Yordanus has no further need of me,' he said at last, his voice heavy with resignation, 'I will return to Alexandria.'
'Not Cairo?' I said lightly.
'Oh, I can never go back to Cairo, Da'ounk,' he replied. 'Truly, the khalifa would have me flayed alive and spit-roasted over hot coals.'
The little jailer had risked his life and given up his livelihood for me, and I had tossed him aside like a rag on which I had just blown my nose. 'I am sorry, Wazim. Forgive me, I was not thinking.'
'There is nothing to forgive. You must return to your own country. I understand.'
'You have served me admirably and well. As a true Christian brother, you have given unstintingly and at immense sacrifice for my benefit. Indeed, I would not be here now if not for you. I will not see your noble deed go unrewarded.'
He smiled to hear himself praised from my lips. 'I ask nothing of you, Da'ounk. God himself has prepared my reward.'
'I have no doubt of it, Wazim, my friend. Still, it may be some time before you collect that reward; it would please me to see you well settled and comfortable while you wait.'
I glanced over to where Padraig was sitting, and saw that he was following our conversation. My faithful anam cara, he gave me a nod of approval to let me know that yet another skirmish with the slippery adversary pride had been contested successfully.
Anna called us in to our supper then, and we went in to a meal of eggs and peppers with dried fish, wine, and olives. After the meal, we remained at the table long into the night, talking to Yordanus and Sydoni about how best to go about finding a ship to help us on our homeward journey. As we talked, it soon became apparent that Yordanus was less than enthusiastic about our leaving. He was intent on seeing de Bracineaux and myself reconciled, our differences mended and the Holy Rood returned to its rightful place.
I was against this, I confess, but felt deeply in Yordanus' debt, and was heartily reluctant to grieve him over this difference of opinion. We went to our beds that night with the matter unresolved, but I promised to give it my thoughtful consideration over the next few days. This pleased him, and he said no more about it, leaving me to my meditations.
Next morning, Padraig and I, with Sydoni's assistance, wrapped the Holy Rood in red silk and secured it in a stout wooden casket which Anna used to store her good shoes and feast-day clothes. We hid the sacred relic in the bottom of the box and replaced the clothes, adding a few shawls, a tablecloth, and such like. The box did not lock, but Sydoni said it was just as well. 'Someone searching for valuables will seize on anything that is locked,' she pointed out.
We placed the box under Padraig's bed and, satisfied that our treasure was safe enough for the time being, walked down to the harbour in the lower town where we arranged to be informed of any westbound ships departing Paphos harbour. I had the unhappy suspicion that we would have to go to a larger port to find passage, and that would increase the risk of discovery. Likewise, each day we waited heightened the risk as well, as I did not for a single instant believe that the Templars would easily give up searching for the sacred relic, nor allow anything to stand in their way of reclaiming it.
My sudden and unexplained appearance on the quay at Cairo had confounded Sergeant Gislebert, and I knew hi my bones that de Bracineaux would quickly narrow his search to me-if only to satisfy himself that I did not have the relic in my possession. Thus, Yordanus' suggestion of sending word to him to meet us and discuss the matter had something to recommend it by way of surprise, but beyond that, try as I might, I could not think of a single good reason to meet with the Templars. I did not say as much to Yordanus, however, but merely begged more time to think the matter through.
'Take all the time you need,' the old man replied obligingly. 'While you are thinking, why not go up to the monastery and speak with the monks about restoring your damaged papyri? It is not far-you would only be gone a few days, and you could see something of Cyprus along the way.'
Padraig agreed that it was a good idea, so that is what we did.
FORTY-SIX
The people of Cyprus travel by donkey, and although exceedingly undignified, the sturdy little beasts are sure-footed and uncomplaining. They eat little and need less water than a horse or ox, and can endure heat and cold, and the hardships of the road far better than either of their larger stablemates. We hired three of the animals in Paphos-one each for Padraig and myself, and one to carry fodder and provisions for our journey. As Yordanus said, it was no great distance, but the people of the hill country beyond Paphos are very poor and the likelihood of finding suitable food or stabling along the way was slender indeed.
'It is best, I think, to travel lightly and make as few demands on the country folk as possible,' was how Yordanus tactfully put it.
So, early the next morning, we bundled a few things into a cloth bag and tied the bundle containing my still-soggy papyri-Padraig had determined that the best way to preserve the mess was to keep it wrapped in damp sheepskin-to the patient pack animal. Bidding farewell to Yordanus, Wazim, and Sydoni, we set off for the monastery of Ayios Moni, a refuge of learning and prayer deep in the hill country on the edge of the high Troodos mountains. The road was well-used and well marked, and the weather dry and fine, so the travelling was easy. Upon reaching the first high ridge I looked back to see Paphos glittering like a jewel in the shallow bowl of the bay, shimmering in the bright morning sunlight.
It was good to be with Padraig again, just the two of us, and I reflected that since beginning this pilgrimage, it had never been just the two of us together. We rode side-by-side, and I told him about my captivity with Amir Ghazi. As we climbed higher into the pine-forested hills, the air grew cooler and more pleasant. The breeze through the tall trees smelled of pine and reminded me of the Scottish woodlands, and I felt a pang of longing which was eased only by the assurance that we would be going home very soon.
We spent a good day in the saddle, stopping now and then to water the beasts from the roadside brook. We passed a few tiny settlements and, as Yordanus had warned us, they were mean places-tumbledown, soot-covered hovels with miserable dogs and dirty children standing in bare dirt yards looking silently and hungrily at us as we passed. At one such dwelling, Padraig was so moved by the want of a naked boy and his young sister that he gave them half our bread, some dried meat, and all the cheese we had brought with us.