I could tell he did not believe me; he looked me up and down as if measuring for a coffin. 'See how I am dressed-are these the clothes of a crusader?' His frown of disbelief deepened. 'Also, we are speaking Greek,' I added.

'Badly,' he sniffed, unimpressed.

'Tell me your name,' I commanded.

The Armenian stiffened slightly at my audacity. But he was well accustomed to taking orders, and replied, 'I am Katib Sahak of Tarawn, advisor to Amir Ghazi.'

I thanked him, and said, 'I ask you now, Katib -'

'Just Sahak only,' he said. 'Katib is an Arab word. It means scribe.'

'I ask you, Sahak, do the Franks speak Greek?'

At this, the Armenian turned and held close conversation with the amir, whose interest pricked slightly when he heard what Sahak had to say about me. Breathing a fervent prayer, I said, 'I had no part in Bohemond's army, and took no part in the battle. I was a guest of Prince Thoros and was captured by mistake. I was with three others when this man captured me.' Pointing to the atabeg, I said, 'Ask him if this is not so. The others were able to escape. I alone was captured.'

Sahak discussed my story with the atabeg, who nodded, which I took as confirmation that I was telling the truth. 'The Atabeg of Albistan agrees that it happened the way you say,' the scribe confirmed. Ghazi spoke up then, and Sahak added, 'The amir demands proof.'

Looking directly at the amir, I answered, 'Tell him I can prove I have come from the prince's household.' When my words were interpreted for the amir, I said, 'This was given to me by Princess Elena for aiding the return of her son, Roupen.'

So saying, I pulled the neck of my siarc down and twisted it inside out to reveal the brooch I had pinned there the day I left Anazarbus. Sahak's eyes went wide with amazement. 'If you will look closely,' I said, directing their attention to the carved ruby, 'you will see that it bears the royal emblem.'

I showed the gem to each of them in turn. Ghazi and the atabeg exchanged a few words, and the amir issued his command. 'Give me the brooch,' the Armenian translator said.

I refused, saying, 'The amir has said the noblemen are to be ransomed. This,' I held the brooch before them, 'is to be my ransom. What is the word for ransom?' I asked. 'In the amir's tongue, what is the word?'

'Namus'lu keza,' replied the advisor.

Tapping the brooch with my finger, I repeated the word. 'Namus'lu keza,' I said, and prayed they understood what I was trying to tell them.

The amir made up his mind. Speaking gruffly, he held out his hand to me.

'Amir Ghazi says you are to give him the jewel.'

I hesitated.

'You have no choice,' Sahak informed me. 'You are to give it to him now. It will be sent to Anazarbus to inform them of your capture.'

With great reluctance, I obeyed, unfastening the brooch and placing it in the amir's palm with a last appeal. 'Namus'lu keza.'

The amir closed his hand over the brooch, turned on his heel and walked away, pausing to toss a word of command to the guards as he retreated to his tent. They took hold of me and I was taken back around the lake to resume my place with the captives.

Girardus was glad at my return to the fold, so to speak. 'I never thought to see you again,' he confided. 'They are saying the amir is holding court, and judgements are being given.'

'It is true,' I told him. Other captives gathered closer to hear. 'The amir is indeed holding court, and he seems to be renewing the loyalties of his vassal lords.' I went on to describe what I had seen of the comings and goings of all the noblemen and women and gifts they brought.

When I finished, Girardus, who had assumed they had taken me away to be tortured or beaten, asked, 'What did they do to you?'

'They kept me waiting all day in the sun,' I answered, 'and then they brought me back here.'

'Did you see the amir?'

'I saw him,' I said glumly. 'I had hoped to persuade him to release me. He was not in a mood to be persuaded.'

'He let you live,' Girardus concluded. 'That is something, at least.'

I remained with the others that night and, wonder of wonders, the guards came for me the next morning and I was brought to stand before the amir's tent. As before, I waited as more, and still more, nobles and dignitaries came to pay homage to Amir Ghazi. I pondered the meaning of this activity, and it came to me that perhaps defeating Bohemond's army was an event of far greater significance for the Seljuqs than I knew.

Ignorant of the forces and powers that held sway in the Holy Land, I could nevertheless imagine that a single great victory could produce a result with far-reaching implications for the man who accomplished it. Certainly, it would not be the first time a shrewd leader, having delivered a decisive conquest, had used it to concentrate his power.

Further, I could well imagine that the hole left in the defences of Antioch had created an opportunity which such a leader might wish to exploit. What the astute amir had in mind, I could not guess, but the activity in the camp gave every indication that he was marshalling his support for an important undertaking.

These thoughts occupied me until a little past midday, when the Atabeg of Albistan, whom I took to be one of the amir's chief advisors, emerged from the tent. He came to stand over me, and I rose quickly to my feet. After a cursory scrutiny, he signalled the guarding warriors, and I was escorted into the amir's tent.

An Arab tent is a wondrous thing. With very little effort the desert folk make them as spacious and comfortable as palaces. The interior is often divided up into smaller rooms for meeting, dining, sleeping, and so forth. Accordingly, Ghazi's tent featured a large outer room where he received his guests before bringing them into his inner chambers, so to speak. This is where I was brought; here also were the gifts which had been heaped upon the amir by those who came to do him honour.

There were many jewelled swords and knives, and ornamental weapons of various sorts-spears, shields, helmets, bows and arrows-and other items of which the Arab artisans excel in making: chalices, bowls, platters, and cunningly carved boxes of pierced wood inlaid with fine yellow gold and precious stones. As I looked over this haphazard mound of wealth, I recognized certain objects and realized there were also many items of plunder which the Seljuq had taken from the defeated crusaders. Indeed, rolled on its wooden pole, I saw Bohemond's golden banner, and a fine new steel hauberk folded atop a chest, a pair of gauntlets with the image of a hawk's head, a silver gorget, and a long Prankish sword.

I saw these things and more, and the thought came to me, It is here… the Holy Rood is here! Could it be? My heartbeat quickened. Nothing of value escaped the keen appraising eye of the Arab. I stared at the jumbled trove and knew that it must be true. Hidden somewhere amongst all the gifts and plunder lay the greatest prize in Christendom.

After a moment the Armenian scribe, who had served as my interpreter the day before, appeared. 'Do you know why you have been brought here?' Katib Sahak asked; his voice was cold and unforgiving.

'I am hoping the amir has accepted my ransom payment and will now allow me to depart in peace.'

'That is for the amir to decide.' In bearing and tone, Sahak gave every indication of despising me. 'He wishes to ask you some questions. I urge you to tell the truth at all times. Your life depends on it.'

'Be assured I will tell the truth.'

He made a sound in his nose as if he thought such an endeavour unlikely. 'Follow me.'

Stepping to the inner partition, he pulled back a fold of the cloth, indicating that I should enter. The room was simple and spare; there was no furniture of any kind, save cushions; fine silken rugs had been spread thick on the ground to make a soft floor beneath the feet. The mountain of gifts which filled the outer room encroached upon this room as well, but here the heap was smaller, and the objects more costly.