Cait, you will not believe what has taken place. I can scarce believe it myself, and hardly know where to begin to explain. Nor can I say with any certainty whether it is good news for me, or bad. Good, I think. For, if nothing else, it has delayed my execution for another day at least, maybe more. Lord of Hosts in heaven, let it be more!

After dismissing Wazim to learn what he could of matters in the city, I returned to my writing and thought no more about what the caliph had said about the affairs of Cairo. You have been reading the result of my diligence.

This account grows more ungainly by the day, I confess, and my poor hand cramps and burns, and the effort tires me-Cait, sometimes I feel as if I have been wrestling giants from dawn to dusk, though I have not stirred from the chair! Nevertheless I worked through the day and into the night-a common enough practice for me, to be sure; the only difference was that this time no meals were brought to me. I assumed this was because I was soon to die, and the grim assumption spurred me on. Tired as I was, I worked all the more diligently for the knowledge that each page before me might be my last.

It was very late when I again heard rapid footsteps in the corridor. I lay aside my pen, and turned as Wazim burst into the room, excitement making his eyes bulge out. He had gone out to discover what it was that had caused the caliph to suspend the ordered executions; and he had returned with the tale which has caused such alarm throughout the city, and which I shall swiftly relate. First, however, I must explain a detail which is necessary for your understanding.

You will have gathered that the caliph is supreme among Muhammedan rulers. Yet, he is not singular in his authority. Not by any means. He shares the administration of his government with other authorities, chief among them the wazir-or vizier, as some say. This he does so that he may undertake more fully his primary duty as the spiritual leader of his people, thus leaving the ordinary charge of temporal matters to the vizier.

As it happens, the Caliph of Cairo, however fortunate in other respects, is cursed with a wayward and unruly son, Hasan. The caliph, upon taking the throne, had struck upon the idea of at once making peace with the stormy youth and bringing him under his control by raising the young man to the rank of vizier. Wazim tells me that, while many counselled against this, the plan nevertheless worked very well at first.

After a time, however, Hasan began to find his office too constricting. He drifted back into his former bad habits. Soon he was once more the bane of his father's life, only this time he was placed where he could work great harm to any and all who opposed him. Although none of this reached my ears, it was well known all along the Nile from Alexandria to Luxor, for the wicked young man ran from one tantrum to the next, plunging the government of Cairo into scandals and skirmishes of every kind.

Matters grew so precarious and unpleasant, and the outcry of aggrieved citizens so loud, that the caliph had lately begun to entertain the suggestions of his advisors who insisted that Vizier Hasan must be deposed. This, I suspect, had been behind al-Hafiz's inquiry into what I knew about affairs in Cairo-but more of that later.

So, there it is. All that remains is for me to say that on the day my execution was to have been effected, Vizier Hasan, on an insane whim, summoned no fewer than forty amirs and atabegs from the city and surrounding region to meet with him that he might receive their heartfelt homage. Once they were assembled, he charged them with plotting against him. Thinking it a crude jest, the noblemen made light of it. Enraged that they should laugh at him, he had them thrown into a hafir-a grain house – and then ordered the warriors of his personal bodyguard to slay them all then and there. Without weapons or aid of any kind, there was very little the noblemen could do. The soldiers waded into the hafir, killing all who stood up to them; the rest were butchered one by one as they tried to escape.

I listened with dread amazement at Wazim's gruesome tale. 'When did this happen?' I asked when he finished.

'Da'ounk, at the very moment you stood before the caliph's throne of judgement,' he answered, 'even then this black deed was taking place. Forty amirs-all dead,' he said, shaking his head at the grotesque audacity of it. 'Everyone is most upset.'

'I can see how that would be,' I allowed. 'What has become of the vizier?'

'The khalifa, as you know, was forced to send out the guards. They surrounded the vizier's palace and demanded Hasan to give himself up to them. He refused and there was a small battle.' Wazim paused to gulp down some air, and then hurried on. 'When the vizier's bodyguard saw it was futile to fight against the khalifa's soldiers, they surrendered and delivered Hasan to his father's troops. It is said they have taken the vizier out of the city to a secret fortress where he is to be held until Khalifa al-Hafiz can decide what shall be done with him.'

Now, Gait, that is how the matter sits at the moment. As Padraig so often reminds me: All things work together for the good of him who loves the Lord. Great of Heaven, this is my prayer even now.

Sydoni would not be left behind. While her father discussed suitable crew members with a sleepy harbour master, Sydoni offered to show us around the ship. Taking one of the small boats, Padraig and Roupen rowed us to where the trim Persephone was anchored, and we climbed up onto the deck. Once aboard, it quickly became clear that she had no intention of being put off.

When the last of the provisions had been brought aboard and stowed below deck, Yordanus turned to bid farewell to his daughter. 'Save your breath, father,' she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek, 'I am going with you.'

He was against it. There was a brief discussion and, of course, she had her way. The more I saw of Sydoni, the more convinced I became that if she wanted a thing, it was hers already – and no amount of argument would sway her; likewise flattery, threats, or reason. In this, I suspect, she was just like her father, and even he could not compel her against her will.

Thus, with the help of two additional sailors and a pilot, we set off well before midday. Persephone was a fine ship; neat and spare in its lines, but able to hold a sizeable cargo with ease. As we had no cargo, the pilot and his two crewmen were able to manage the ship almost entirely on their own. Once under sail, they required only an occasional hand from Padraig and myself, leaving us plenty of time to ourselves.

The first day at sea was a joy. The wind stayed light out of the west, but the ship surged along pleasantly. It felt good to be moving forwards with such efficiency and speed, and with such righteousness of purpose. Very soon our hearts were soaring and our worries seemed to recede like the island behind us. Quietly exhilarated by the inevitable success of our mission, I allowed myself to accept Yordanus' assurances that Bohemond could not possibly outrace us, and that we would reach Anazarbus to deliver our warning long before the greedy prince and his army. Thus, the pressing urgency of our flight began to recede.

Towards evening, dolphins gathered to sport before the prow. Sydoni liked watching them and, drawn by her exuberance, I joined her at the rail to see them leap and dive.

'They say that dolphins are naughty children who taunted Neptune from the safety of the shore,' Sydoni told me. 'In his anger, the god sent a great sea wave to sweep the children off their rock and drown them, but Old Nereus did not have the heart to see them killed, and so gathered them up and changed them into fish, instead.'