The desperation in her voice brought me up short. 'My lady?'

'Please, dine with us tonight. I will speak to my father. He will receive you in a far better mood, I promise you.'

Now it was my turn to frown. 'We have spent all day trying to find this place, only to be told to go away-first by you, and then by your father. Now that we are about to do just that, you sayyou want us to stay.'

She smiled suddenly-a delicious, winsome flash of fine white teeth against the tawny hue of her skin. For the first time I realized she was of an Eastern race, for her colouring was dark-her hair and eyes were black, and radiantly so, and her flesh glowed with a lustrous sheen the colour of honey mingled with cream.

'Our business is urgent,' I told her. 'We dare not waste time indulging the whims of an old man.'

'Please,' she said, laying a hand on my arm. 'You need to eat somewhere, and it is a long time since we have welcomed guests beneath our roof. Dine with us tonight and let us see what comes of it.'

She was right, the day was rapidly dwindling away, and we would have to find somewhere to stay for the night. We had come this far, I thought, we might as well see it through to the end. 'Very well,' I said. 'I will speak to my friends.'

'Good,' she said, brightening instantly. 'Fetch them back, and I will show you where you can rest and refresh yourselves.'

I hurried out through the gate, and told Padraig and Roupen there had been a change of plan. Upon rejoining Yordanus' daughter in the courtyard, she said, 'As we are to dine together, I must go to the marketplace. It is cool here in the courtyard and there is water in the pool to refresh yourselves. I will return soon.'

I thanked her for her thoughtfulness, but as she made to take her leave, Roupen suddenly demanded, 'Do you mean you would eat with them?'

Before I could reply, he added, 'I will not eat with Jews\' With that, he pointed to a bronze disc over the door of the house; it showed the outline of two simple triangles, one inverted and imposed upon the other to form the Star of David, a symbol much employed by the Jews.

'I will not put my feet beneath the same board as a Jew,' Roupen growled angrily. 'Do what you like, I will not break bread with them. I would rather starve first.'

'Then you may do so,' I told him bluntly, aghast at his crude incivility. I had never seen him so irritated and angry.

'They are Jews,’ he protested unashamedly. 'They cannot be trusted. We do not need them anyway. I am leaving.' With that, he spun on his heel and hastened off down the road. Padraig flew after him, attempting to calm him and bring him back to beg forgiveness.

Mortified by the young lord's discourtesy, I quickly turned to apologize. 'I am sorry, my lady. He is distraught and upset by the urgency of our predicament, but that is no excuse for his uncouth behaviour.'

'And what about you?' she asked sharply. 'Do you also hold Jews in such low regard?'

'I confess I have never known any Jews,' I answered; desperate to make amends, I added: 'Still, if they are even half so kind and generous as you have been, then they are indeed a noble race-and I will fight anyone who says otherwise.'

She gave the remark a dismissive huff and stared at me, her dark eyes searching mine as she pursed her lips in thought. After a moment, she said, 'Do you still wish to eat with us?'

'I would consider it an honour, my lady.'

'Then you may return this evening.'

'With pleasure,' I replied, trying to redeem a bad business. 'In the meantime, I will calm my young friend and teach him better manners.'

'Do so,' the lady replied crisply. 'You may also find it worthwhile to meditate on this: my father and I are not Jews.'

'No?'

'We are Copts,' she said, and disappeared into the courtyard, slamming the door behind her.

We spent what little remained of the day in the market square of the upper town. Under Padraig's ministrations, and mollified by the fact that our host was not a Jew after all, the haughty young lord allowed himself to be persuaded to partake of a meal without further insult.

As a pale yellow moon rose above the surrounding hills, we found ourselves once more standing before the low door in the high wall at the end of the long uphill climb. There was an iron ring hanging from a chain beside the door. Padraig gave the ring a strong pull, and a bell chimed distantly from somewhere inside. We waited for a time, and nothing happened, so he pulled it again, and then once more for good measure. The monk was about to pull the bell yet again when the door flew open and a small brown man poked out his head. He spat a stream of invective which none of us could understand, and then slammed the door again.

'There! You see?' grumbled Roupen, only too ready to abandon what appeared to be an increasingly hopeless enterprise.

'Pull the bell chain,' I directed, refusing to give in.

Again the door flew open, and again the man glared and jabbered fiercely at us. This time, however, I reached in, took hold of his tunic and yanked him out into the street. He sputtered and cursed, and began kicking at us with his bony bare feet.

'Peace!' I said, holding him back. 'We mean you no harm. Stop your fighting. We only want to talk to you.'

He loosed a blistering torrent of angry words at us, all the while kicking, and swinging his fists. I held him at arm's length-as much to keep him from hurting himself as any of us, and was considering what to do next when there appeared in the open doorway a very fat man in a loose-fitting robe. He looked at us with a large, languid unimpressed eye, and said, 'Yes?'

I greeted him politely-still holding off the angry little man-and said, 'Yordanus is pleased to receive us for dinner this evening.'

'So you say,' replied the man, wholly unmoved by my declaration. Reaching out, he tapped the squirming, spitting man squarely on top of the head. Instantly, he stopped righting; I released him and he scurried away.

'Have you something for me?' asked the fat man when the little porter had gone.

Uncertain how to reply, I glanced at Padraig, who merely shrugged unhelpfully. 'No,' I answered at last. 'Should I have something for you?'

'That is for you to say.'

'I was given nothing for you,' I told him.

'Pity,' he replied. He rolled his eyes lazily from one to the other of us, then sighed and fell silent.

'Is Yordanus at home?' I wondered after an awkward moment.

The fat man yawned, then turned and beckoned us to follow. The three of us stepped through the doorway and crossed the deep-shadowed courtyard. We were led to the door of the villa. 'Wait here,' the man instructed; he pushed open the door and vanished into the darkness within.

In a little while, the small wiry fellow returned. He saw us waiting before the door and instantly flew at us, shouting and waving his hands. He seemed determined to drive us from the house, and might have succeeded, save for the abrupt appearance of Yordanus' daughter. She wore a long white robe and carried a lash of braided leather with which she proceeded to whip the little man.

'Go to, Omer!' she cried, swinging the lash. 'Go to!'

I was about to interpose myself in this attack, when I noticed that most, if not all, the whip strokes struck the earth. The desired effect was achieved, however, and the little mad fellow ran off gibbering.

'You must forgive Omer,' the lady said, recoiling the lash. 'He is not often well.' Stepping to the door, she said, 'Come this way, please.'

The house was in darkness, and we crept like thieves through one passage after another until coming to a room in one of the long wings of the extensive villa. The chamber was ablaze with candlelight and the windows were open to allow the soft evening breezes to waft in – setting candles fluttering on the large candletrees around the room. There were no chairs, but after the fashion of the East, we reclined on large cushions either side of the low table which had been spread with fine, ornately-woven Damascus cloth.