Byzantium

the Sea Wolves to their death-like slumber, and crept away unseen to make my bed next to the amir's fire.

Although we had planned to move on the next day, we rested instead. The former slaves had spent all their strength in the escape and following march, and few were in any condition to renew their exertions. We might usefully have rested the following day as well, but Faysal, weighing our increased numbers against the rapidly dwindling provisions, suggested that if we did not make some progress, however small, we would soon be going hungry. 'As it is,' he suggested, 'we must go to Amida and replenish our supplies.'

This meant a delay, which Amir Sadiq did not like, but there was no other choice. So, setting forth at a gentle pace, we proceeded down the long, meandering trail to the valley floor, resting often. The next day, we proceeded west towards the Amida road.

Thus, upon reaching the road two days later, we turned not north to Trebizond, but south to Amida. Despite the fact that the amir no longer provided for them, many of the former captives preferred to remain close in order to travel under the protection of the rafiq. A few, however, unburdened by any such fears, left us as soon as we gained the road, eager to reach the city.

Though the former captives could not walk fast, nor for any great distance, still we journeyed at a better pace than before. Indeed, over the next days I observed a general improvement in all of the newly freed men, Britons and Danes alike: they moved more easily, and their strength increased day by day. Sure, they were strong men who had survived the mines. Even Ddewi seemed to come more to himself, as if, little by little, he remembered who he had been.

Each day I saw Kazimain, of course, but with everyone so close around us all the time, we had few opportunities to speak to one another, and these were all too brief. We contented ourselves with knowing glances, and hastily uttered words of endearment: not enough to make a man content, but it was all we had.

Then, early on the morning we were to enter Amida, she came to me. Men were breaking camp and saddling the horses, others preparing food. I turned, smiling as Kazimain hurried to where I stood talking to Dugal; one glance at the set of her jaw, and I broke off my chatter. Drawing her a little apart, I said, 'You look about to burst.'

'The amir says I am to stay in Amida,' she told me, her voice shaking. 'He intends hiring men to escort me back to Ja'fariya.'

The thing had taken me unawares and before I could think what to say, she gripped my arm tightly and said, 'He must not do this, Aidan.'

'He fears for your safety,' I muttered without conviction.

'And I fear for his!' she snapped. Taking in my bewilderment, she bent her head towards mine and confided in a low voice, not to be overheard. 'He is not well.'

I pulled back. 'Not well?' Glancing around to where he sat breaking fast on some bread Faysal had given him, I said, 'He seems in perfect health to me.'

Kazimain dismissed my observation. 'That is how he wants to appear,' she said. 'He has begun sleeping too long, and too deeply. He does not rise so quickly.'

'That is no cause for worry,' I suggested. 'He is tired-we are all tired. Exhausted. No doubt we would all feel better for a day's rest.'

Kazimain's smooth brow creased in a frown. 'You are not listening!' she said. 'Please, Aidan, do something. He must not leave me behind.'

'I will speak to him,' I promised. 'If that is what you want.'

This was not the right thing to say, I quickly discovered, for she stormed away and would speak to me no more.

Upon reaching Amida, late in the day, the amir ordered his tent to be erected a short distance from the settlement, and forbade the Sea Wolves to leave camp. Harald and his men were disappointed, but when Faysal explained that there was no ol of any kind, nor even wine, in all of Amida, the Danemen bore their disappointment more bravely. 'Perhaps it is for the best,' remarked Gunnar with stoic forbearance; 'it will mean more silver to take home to Karin.'

With that the Sea Wolves set about cleaning themselves; they bathed and shaved their matted beards and cut their hair, and cast off their filthy rags for simple mantles the amir provided. When they finished, much of their former swagger had returned.

The Britons, who had no silver to worry about, were also unwilling to go into the town. 'I will not set foot in that accursed place,' Dugal vowed.

'You have no purse,' I pointed out. 'Therefore, you have nothing to fear.'

'Ha!' Dugal mocked. 'Think you I would give the slave-traders a chance to seize me and sell me again? I never will.'

Dugal was, perhaps, closer to the truth than he knew. In any event, I was prepared to stay in camp with the others and await the amir's return, but Kazimain insisted I go. 'You must speak to Lord Sadiq!' she urged.

This is how I came to be standing in the slave market at Amida when I heard someone cry, 'Aedan!'

62

The market square was awash in an uneasy flood of people, most of whom were shouting at the top of their voices, trying to make themselves heard over all the others. On this day, there were no slaves to be sold, but there were horses and donkeys, sheep and goats aplenty, and also, an animal I had seen but once or twice in Trebizond: camels; loud, shaggy, and ill-tempered creatures much favoured by those of the dry southern places. Sellers appeared to outnumber buyers, and as the sun was already stretching the shadows across the square, desperation had begun setting in. Most of the sellers were herdsmen and farmers who did not care to begin the long journey home with empty purses.

The shout came again, sharp and distinct: 'Aedan!'

I stood stump-still and listened. If I was not certain I had heard it the first time, I heard it clearly now, and I began searching the busy marketplace for whoever had called me. Though the square teemed with people, no one paid the slightest attention to me. Well, the market was so noisy, I might have imagined it after all; I made to continue on my way, following the amir and Faysal about the chore of procuring supplies. Yet, even as I turned to hasten after them, out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed the slight, wizened figure of Amet, the magus I had consulted in Trebizond.

He moved towards me, holding up his hands in a peculiar gesture of greeting-as if he feared I would flee him before he could reach me. I hastened to join him, but before I took three strides, a herd of goats moved between us and suddenly I was surrounded by the bleating animals.

Amet stopped. Gazing intently at me across a distance of fifty paces, his hands still raised, palms outward in his peculiar greeting, he called out; his mouth moved, but his words were swallowed by the din of the market and the nattering of the goats.

Cupping a hand to my ear, I shouted, 'What did you say?' — whereupon he repeated his call. I heard him no better the second time, and was only able to make out a single word: Sebastea.

'I cannot hear you!' I shouted, and started towards him once again, shoving my way through the goat herd, only to have him taken from my sight by a man leading three horses. They passed before me, man and horses, and when I stepped forward again Amet was gone.

I rushed to the place where he had been standing, but the little magus was nowhere to be seen. 'Amet!' I cried.

His voice came to me one last time, but further away. 'Come to Sebastea, Aedan! Sebastea…'

Nowhere among the mass of bodies pressing all around was Amet to be found. I called his name again, but received no reply. He had vanished so completely that I quickly doubted whether I had seen him at all. Making a last inspection of the square, I turned and hurried after Faysal and the amir, who were talking to a man standing beside a wagon loaded with sacks of grain.

I quickly rejoined them, taking my place behind Faysal just as Sadiq struck a bargain with the man for his wagonload of barley. While Faysal told the man where to deliver the grain, Sadiq turned his attention to the other matter on his mind: finding an escort to take Kazimain back to Samarra.