'I have never heard that story,' I said. 'But seeing how they play in the waves, I can well believe it.'

We watched the sleek dark shapes dart and glide, splashing in and out of the waves, slicing the wake with their agile fins and weaving trails of bubbles as they rolled and spun in the fire-rimmed water. On the deck behind us, the sailors had lit a small brazier, and the aroma of spit-roasted fish began to steal into the air.

'I love the sea,' Sydoni said lazily, resting her chin on her palm as she leaned on the rail. 'I have spent half my life on ships.'

'And Yordanus?' I asked, because the doughty old trader had gone below deck shortly after we left sight of land, and had not put his head above the boards since.

'He is the worst seaman on any sea,' she observed gleefully. 'The least little ripple in the water and poor Yordanus turns green and goes below.'

'Vexing for a man who must make his living aboard a ship.'

She looked at me for a moment, the setting sun glinting in her dark hair, and turning her dusky skin to warm, glowing bronze. 'Yes,' she agreed softly.

Even as she said it, I knew she had been about to say something else, to confide more personally, but had pulled back at the last instant. Silence fell between us, and I thought she would not say more.

With a last flash of pale underbelly, the dolphins dove down into the darkening water, disappearing in a trail of bubbles, but Sydoni did not seem to notice. She went on staring down at the waves, a pensive look on her face. 'I want to thank you for saving my father.'

I opened my mouth to dispute her claim, but saw that she was in earnest. 'Did he need saving?'

She turned her face towards the far horizon. 'He was dying in that house.' The way she spoke made it sound like a prison. 'He had lost interest in his food, his affairs, life itself-you saw how he was.'

'I see he has changed,' I agreed. 'He has become a very lion on our behalf.'

'Yes, and that is because of you. I am grateful.'

'My lady, I have done nothing. Your father has taken an interest in our troubles for reasons of his own, and has decided to help us. Believe me, I am the one who should be grateful-and I am.'

'I do not expect you to understand,' she said stiffly, and moved away along the rail.

That night we sat on the broad, uncluttered deck and ate flat bread and roast fish basted in olive oil and sprinkled with dried herbs and salt. The moon rose slowly in a clear sky and made the sea bright. Sydoni went below deck as soon as she finished eating, taking a little food for her father. Padraig, Roupen, and I sat and talked to the sailors, all three of whom had travelled to and from the Holy Land many times.

When the others went to bed, I decided to walk around the deck a little before going down to my berth to sleep. I strolled idly, letting the tranquillity of the night seep into my soul. My thoughts turned to prayers and I prayed for the family I had left at home, and for the swift and successful completion of our journey.

So occupied by my devotions, I did not notice that I was no longer alone. I heard a soft footfall beside me and glanced around to find Sydoni watching me. 'I am sorry to disturb you,' she said softly; not the least apologetic, she stepped nearer. 'I am finished.' 'A fine night,' she observed, tilting her face towards the heavens.

'I can never sleep when the moon is so bright and the air is so warm. I often sit out alone all night watching the moon and stars.' 'I have been known to do the same at home.' Still gazing skyward, she asked, 'Is it nice where you live?' 'It is very different from here,' I told her, 'and very different, I would think, from your home in Egypt.'

She smiled, her teeth a glint of whiteness in the dark. 'Not all Copts are born within sight of the Nile. I have never lived in Egypt-nor has my father.'

'But I thought -'

'I grew up in Damascus,' she explained. 'No doubt I would have lived there all my life. It is a glorious city – or used to be. I was very happy there.'

'Why did you leave?'

'We were forced to flee,' she replied, her voice darkening slightly, 'and we were not alone. Three thousand Christians were driven from their homes that day. We were far more fortunate than most. Many lost everything, including their lives. They took most of the ready gold and silver, but we were allowed to bring anything else we could carry.'

'Was it because of the crusade?' I asked.

Sydoni gave a slight shake of her head. 'No, it was the Fida'in.'

The wondered at the word. 'What is a Fedayeen?'

'The Fida'in,' she corrected. 'Have you never heard of them?'

'No,' I told her, 'but I have not been long in the Holy Land.'

'I wish I had never heard of them. They are vile and hateful murderers,' she replied with disgust. 'Some call them Batinis – those who hold a hidden faith. It is because of them that we were forced to leave Damascus.'

As if fearing she had said too much, she fell silent. I tried to engage her in conversation again, but she said she was tired, and soon went below, leaving me alone once more and gazing at the stars.

The next day, neither she nor her father showed themselves above deck before midday. Padraig and I spent the morning fishing, and caught enough for our dinner that night. I told the priest about what Sydoni had said the night before, and asked if he had ever heard of the Fida'in. He, like myself, professed ignorance, so we asked Roupen.

'Where did you hear about them?' He looked around the bare deck as if he thought they might be hiding behind the mast, ready to leap out on us.

'Sydoni told me,' I replied. 'She said they were the reason she and her father were forced to leave Damascus. She said three thousand Christians fled on the same day.'

The young lord shrugged. 'I am not surprised. Such things happen-especially when the Fida'in are involved.'

'But who are they?' asked Padraig.

'Fida'in means those whose lives are…' he searched for the right word, 'forfeit-like a sacrifice.'

'Sydoni said they held to a hidden faith,' I put in.

Roupen nodded. 'That is why nobody knows much about them. They are very secretive. In fact, I have heard it said they will kill themselves rather than be taken by an enemy. If they die fighting for God, they go instantly to paradise. At least,' he shrugged again, 'that is what they believe.'

Just then, one of the sailors called out that land had been sighted. Yordanus emerged a short while later, and the old trader lurched across the deck to stand squinting in the sunlight and gripping the rail with both hands.

The three of us joined him, and I told Yordanus it was good to see him above deck. 'The air will do you good,' Padraig added.

The old trader gazed across the wide stretch of water at the hazy wrinkle of hills in the blue distance. 'I have not set foot on the mainland since leaving Damascus,' he told us. 'I did not think I ever would again.'

'Sydoni told me about your troubles,' I said.

He turned sad, misty eyes to me. 'Did she?' he asked doubtfully. 'Then I am amazed.' He looked away again. 'That is the first time she has spoken of it to anyone.'