We had hurried on to the house to be met by Sydoni, who took one look at my distraught expression and guessed what had caused my distress. She explained that she had told him not to go, but her father insisted he knew what he was doing, and anyway, he would be back before we returned.

In fact, he did not return until two days later.

I spent the intervening time stalking the hills and muttering about the ruins, waiting for Yordanus to return. I was sitting in my accustomed place in the shade when I saw a ship round the far headland and enter the bay just before sunset. I watched with growing expectation until I was certain it was the Persephone, and then I hurried back to the house to alert Sydoni and the others that Yordanus had returned.

While Sydoni and Anna fluttered around preparing food and drink for her father's return, the old trader stood in the courtyard and professed his trip to have been eminently successful, and that any worries I might have had were completely unfounded. Wazim stood with him, and the two of them assured me that nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Padraig and I listened to their feeble justification for their disobedience.

'I know you instructed otherwise,' Yordanus allowed, 'and I did not lightly go against your wishes, believe me. Even so,' he raised his hands in appeasement, 'the day is soon coming when we must send word to Commander de Bracineaux at Antioch. I have instructed Gregior to begin making the necessary preparations for that journey. Also,' he added with a touch of self-righteous vindication, 'I needed to replenish my purse. Silver does not multiply of its own accord, you know, and travel is a costly business.'

There was no point in berating the man. 'Well, it is over and done now,' I said as graciously as possible. 'We will speak no more about it.'

'Very wise,' agreed Yordanus. Just then Anna came into the courtyard carrying a tray laden with bowls of food and baskets of bread; Sydoni emerged behind her with a tray of cups and a jug of wine. They placed the trays on one of the benches beneath the fig tree, and the four of us sat down to eat.

'I am anxious to learn about your trip to the monastery,' Yordanus said. 'Were the monks able to help you?'

'They were indeed,' replied Padraig. He told about the monastery and the agreement we had made to allow the papyri to be copied. 'They were only too happy to do it once they learned they could make a copy for themselves.'

'And a new roof for the scriptorium besides,' I said. The words came out sounding far more caustic than I intended. Both Padraig and Yordanus looked at me curiously.

'You seemed to find the agreement satisfactory at the time, brother.' Padraig scowls only rarely; thus, it speaks all the more eloquently of his displeasure. 'You have made a fine deception of hiding your disapproval until now.'

'I beg your pardon,' I muttered. 'I have misspoken. Forget I said anything.'

Sydoni joined us after awhile, and she and Padraig began discussing the hill country to the north and the many monastic settlements to be found in that part of the island. Yordanus meanwhile undertook a lengthy and pointless story for Wazim's amusement-all to do with some poor farmers in the hills near Paleapaphos who recently unearthed a treasure trove buried in a field they were ploughing; the find apparently consisted of several gold bands and an onyx chalice which they assumed was Roman, but which, upon examination by the-Bishop of Paphos, turned out to be Greek. It was thought the items had once belonged to a potentate who had owned one of the ruined palaces in the area.

'I suppose they will be made to give up their find,' I remarked innocently. 'As always everyone else has a better claim on the treasure than those who discovered it.' Once again, my tone belied my true intent. The others regarded me with rank displeasure. 'What? Am I not allowed an opinion?'

After one or two more abortive attempts at joining in the conversation, I finally gave up, lapsing into a disgruntled and fidgety silence. As the evening dragged on, I found it increasingly difficult to sit still and listen to the idle prattling of the others. I sipped my wine and munched salty olives, all the while sinking deeper and deeper into a peculiarly fretful melancholy. When at last I could no longer endure the prattling, I stood so quickly I spilled my cup. I grumbled an apology and excused myself, saying my head hurt from too much sun and I was going to bed.

And that is where Padraig found me some while later; he had sat up talking with Sydoni and Yordanus and came in to find me still thrashing around, unable to sleep. He stood over me for a moment, and even though I could not see his expression in the darkness I could tell by his prickly manner that he was disgusted with me. I did my best to ignore him.

'I know you are not asleep,' he said at last, his voice sharp with disapproval.

'Is it any wonder? If you mean to stand over me all night neither one of us shall get any rest.'

'It is not myself keeping you awake. For a certainty, it is your own guilty conscience.'

His unjust accusation brought me upright. 'Guilty! What have I to feel guilty about?'

'You know what you did,' he said. 'Your own heart condemns you.'

'I have done nothing-unless treating everyone with the utmost courtesy is now become cause for reproach.'

'If I reproach you,' said Padraig with unmerited disdain, 'it is because you well deserve it. Every time Yordanus opened his mouth, you jumped down his throat. What were you thinking? The man is our host and benefactor. He has helped us in a thousand ways, and asks only for our friendship in return. Yet, you treat him like the lowest filth beneath your feet.'

'What cause has Yordanus to complain?' I replied petulantly. 'I was not the one who went behind his back and disobeyed his orders. Anyway, did I not forgive him? Why are you throwing this back in my face?'

'Listen to you now… disobeyed my orders-who are you to issue commands to everyone else? Duncan the High and Mighty lifts his leg to fart and the whole world must dance to the tune-is that it?'

'You twist my words, disagreeable priest!' I growled angrily.

'Do I?' he sneered. 'Do I, indeed?'

'You do.'

'Perhaps they were twisted to begin with.'

'And what do you mean by that?'

'Think about it. Look you long and hard into your soul and repent of your vile and sinful conceit. It does you no credit, my lord.'

He turned away, leaving me to stew in my own bitter bile. His rebuke stung-all the more because I knew he was right. Though I was loath to admit it, the shrewd priest had read my soul aright. Proud as I was, I begrudged Yordanus his efforts on my behalf- not the least because I feared his meddling would result in my having to surrender the Black Rood to the Templars. Nor was that all. I resented having to depend on anyone-especially one I deemed less reliable than myself. In truth, in my long captivity I had grown used to trusting no one and relying only on myself to the extent that I now resented the intrusions of others into my affairs however well-intentioned, and viewed their small failings as wilful defiance of my authority.

These unhappy reflections kept me from my rest. I lay awake long into the night, staring into the darkness, restless and rankled, unable to sleep. Dawn was but a whisper away when I finally abandoned the effort. I rose from my troubled bed and went out, thinking to find some solace in the cool darkness of the quiet courtyard.

Lest I disturb the sleeping household, I crept as quietly as I could through the house, lifted the latch and slipped out through the half-open door, closing it silently behind me. I paused for a moment and looked up at the sky. The moon was down, and the stars were beginning to fade with the approach of daylight. The air was still and fine, and from some unseen corner, I heard the chirrup of a cricket… and something else: a sliding plop, followed by a rapid dry scrabble across the bare earth.