'Abu wails and moans, he throws himself about the room, tearing his hair and gnashing his teeth. He scoops up the precious objects and throws them into the bag once more and points accusingly at the silent Haemur. "You see? You see? You see how I am destroyed? Now we must make haste and flee the city! Our last hope must be in flight."

'The dealer, deeply impressed and alarmed by these words, puts up his hands and says, "Wait! Wait! I have a brother who might be willing to help us. From him I can get three thousand more. I will add that to the sum already offered, yes? Let us agree and put your troubles to flight, my friend."

'Under the gold dealer's ministrations, Abu allows himself to be calmed. Thirty-three thousand dirhams it is. The dealer goes out and returns but a few moments later with the gold and silver in a chest. Together he and Abu count out coins amounting to thirty-three thousand dirhams and, with much praising and blessing Haemur and Abu depart, carrying the chest between them.' The young Syrian smiled broadly. 'And the rest, sharifah, you have seen.'

'It is a remarkable tale, Abu,' Cait declared. 'If even half of it is true, you have earned your reward. I will pay you as soon as we have redeemed the captives and returned to the inn.'

At the palace, however, they found the courtyard deserted and the wazir's secretary less than pleased at having been kept waiting half the day to complete the arrangements he had begun for the release of the war captives. 'Thirty-five thousand dirhams,' he informed Cait when she and the others had been brought into the hall where Wazir Muqharik received his visitors.

'I beg your pardon, katib,' answered Cait, speaking through Abu, 'but twenty-five thousand was the amount we agreed upon.'

' That was before you kept the prince's chief official waiting,' he replied imperiously. 'Thirty-five thousand. Pay it, or go.'

Caitriona motioned for Otti and Abu to bring the chest forward and place it on the table. This they did, and Cait threw open the lid and upended the box, spilling the coins in a glimmering rush over the table. 'Twenty-five thousand,' Cait declared. 'That, along with my most sincere and profound apologies for the inconvenience you have suffered, should be more than sufficient. I pray you will accept both.'

Having made his point, the katib accepted the money and the apology. 'The captives have been washed, and clothed. They also have been waiting,' he said, speaking through Abu. 'If you would please proceed to the gate, they will be brought out to you.'

Cait thanked the katib and returned to the palace gate where, a few moments later, the five knights were escorted from the guardhouse by a company of spear-bearing Saracens led by the jailer. They were delivered without ceremony in simple Arabic garb of long, belted tunics and sandals-cast-off clothing and well worn, but clean. They were still unshaven, but they had been scrubbed to a glowing lustre, and had made a gallant, if only partially successful, attempt to comb the tangles from their long hair and beards. They hobbled from the courtyard and out through the palace gates without looking back.

Their long imprisonment made walking difficult-to a man they moved with an odd lolloping gait as if their legs were made of wood, ill-fashioned and poorly hinged. Their muscles were unequal to the exertion and after only a few hundred paces they had to rest to catch their breath. Cait sent Abu ahead to a nearby market square to hire two carriages; when he returned, the knights eagerly, if painfully, clambered aboard. When the carriages began to roll, leaving the palace walls behind, the former captives overcame their infirmities sufficiently to revel in their freedom by giving vent to enthusiastic whoops and battle cries. Their exuberance drew stares from the people in the streets, many of whom muttered imprecations against ill-mannered foreigners, and fools who could not hold their wine.

Blissfully ignorant of the disapproval swirling around them, the jubilant company drove like conquering heroes through a city they had never thought to see again.

Upon arriving at the inn, Cait discovered that the rooms she had bespoken for her enlarged retinue were now occupied by the merchants who had arrived earlier in the day. The innkeeper was vaguely apologetic, but unwilling to turn his guests out; moreover, the special meal Cait had arranged was now being prepared for the merchants. 'I begged to be excused, but they insisted,' he said, spreading his hands in a gesture of abject helplessness. 'They paid in gold dinars. What could I do?'

'I suppose honouring your promise to me never occurred to you?' enquired Cait tartly.

'Exalted lady, you must try to be reasonable,' protested the innkeeper in his rough, marketplace Latin. 'These are very important men from the East. It is said that one is the supplier of pepper and saffron to the Sultan of Rhum, and the others are the owners of caravans that carry silk and spices from Kush to Samarkand. They are celebrating a royal commission to provide the court at Baghdad with damasc cloth and cinnamon.'

'Spare me your mealy mouthed excuses,' snapped Cait. 'These merchants who cannot be denied-where are they?'

'Cait, no,' murmured Alethea; she had been watching for her sister's return and hurried out to meet the knights, who, having eased themselves from the carriages, stood gazing at the evening sky with the transparent delight of children.

'The merchants, my lady? But -' He looked to Alethea for help.

'Cait, please…' Thea tugged anxiously on her sleeve.

Ignoring her sister, Cait demanded, 'Where are they?'

'Why, they are resting in the inner court. But -' began the innkeeper.

'As it is our meal they propose to eat, they will not mind if we share the celebration.' Turning to Abu, Cait said, 'Come with me, we will secure our invitation to the feast.'

The horrified innkeeper started after her. 'My lady, this you cannot do. It is -'

Cait turned on him, and let fly. 'You will not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do! I have five noblemen who require beds tonight. Not merchants: noblemen. Knights! They are newly released from captivity and are not of a mind to sleep in your stinking stable. So, if I were you, my oily friend,' she jabbed a finger into his flabby chest, 'I would not waste another moment worrying about my precious propriety, but would start trying to save my worthless skin. For unless you find rooms where my men will be comfortable, I will give them leave to peel you like a grape.'

With that, Cait turned and marched directly into the inner courtyard to a flurry of protestation from a red-faced, horrified innkeeper. The courtyard had been spread with rugs and cushions for the comfort of the merchants and their guests, who were reclining around large brass trays filled with cups and jars, and bowls of olives and roasted pine nuts.

At her sudden appearance, all conversation ceased. The merchants looked up to see a woman livid with rage sweeping into their midst. For a moment they merely stared, and when it appeared that she was not about to leave, one of them rose to his feet and addressed her courteously. Abu translated.

'Most gracious lady,' he said, 'you honour us with your radiant presence.' A swarthy man of middle years, his ample form swathed in costly robes of glistening blue and black and crimson, he touched his fingertips to his forehead and made an elaborate flourish with his hand-a flash of gold from the rings on every finger. 'I am Ibn Umar al-Farabi, purveyor of rare spices from the Orient. How may I be of service to you?'

'It seems the rooms which I have engaged for my party have been given to you and your friends.'

'Indeed?' remarked the merchant with mild surprise when Abu had relayed her words. 'Nothing was said of this to me. I am sorry, but I fear there is little to be done about it now. We have already paid for the rooms, you see.'