guests, no better than the infidel.
He shuddered inwardly to think what Alexius would do when he learned what had happened at Jerusalem. It would be best for all concerned if the crusaders could be convinced to hand over the Holy City to the rule and governance of the emperor, and as quickly as possible – tomorrow would not be too soon.
Dalassenus had just lapsed into a fitful sleep when he was awakened by the arrival of several monks begging places for the night. It was strange, he thought, for the night was far gone and these were western clerics, but unlike any he had met before. He looked out from the door of his cell and saw them-three robed monks and a fourth, a tall, anxious-looking youth-as they were led across the church's inner yard. The young man started at seeing his face in the doorway, but the four hurried past, and Dalassenus went back to his short and troubled sleep.
THIRTY-SIX
While Raymond was meeting the emperor's envoy at the palace gates, Murdo and the monks were busy binding Lord Ranulf's treasure into corpse-like bundles. Using the rags Fionn had secured, they bound the various items of gold and silver together and stuffed the spaces between them with dried grass and straw-as much to keep the metal objects from clanking together as to fill out a roughly human shape which they then wrapped in a burial shroud.
They worked quickly, gathering and binding, wrapping and tying. At Fionn's urging, Murdo reluctantly withdrew six gold coins from the heap. 'You are not stealing it, Murdo,' the monk chided, 'merely using some of the first fruits to help save the harvest.'
As soon as the last knot was tied, they dragged the bundles from the tent lest anyone become suspicious of their activity. Lastly, Murdo retrieved his father's sword, shield, and hauberk before abandoning the tent to the use of some other wounded soldier. The three of them settled under a nearby olive tree to await Ronan's return.
'What can be keeping him?' wondered Murdo. He cast an anxious eye over the ungainly bundles, of which there were four-three large, which might pass for adults, and one somewhat smaller, which might be seen as a child. Throughout the camp, the monks and women went about their chores, tending to the wounded and dying. No one seemed to notice the little company waiting for the burial cart; Murdo, fearing they might be discovered at any moment, remained ever alert and watchful.
The baleful sun crossed the sky vault to extinguish itself in a blood-red haze, and still Ronan did not appear. 'I suspect camels are more difficult to obtain than horses or donkeys,' Fionn suggested. 'Ronan macDiarmuid will not fail us. Have faith, Murdo.'
'God is ever moving amidst the chaos,' Emlyn added grandly, 'his subtle purposes to perform. Trust not in the works of men, but in the Almighty whose designs are eternal, and whose deeds outlast the ages.'
Despite repeated entreaties from the two priests to calm himself, Murdo could not rest. Even after dark, he found no peace-for, though he was grateful for relief from the heat, the rising moon shed more than enough light for thieves to work. He looked at the night-dark sky. The stars, veiled by a high-blown haze of smoke, glowed like the eyes of skulking hounds caught by torchlight in the dark.
He drew a hand across his face and tried to wipe away the fatigue. He was hungry and tired, and sore, and the first seeds of sorrow were beginning to take root. Murdo did not mind the hunger, nor his scorched skin, nor his hurting feet; those were small pains compared to the sharp, gnawing ache growing in his heart. He missed his father, and he missed his home; he wanted to see the low green islands of Orkney, and feel the cool northern wind on his face again; he wanted to see Ragna, to hold her, and he wanted this miserable day to end.
Fionn nudged him gently. 'Someone is coming,' he whispered.
Murdo sat up. 'Where?'
'Down there.' Fionn pointed to the trail which wound through the valley below. He could see a grey shape moving on the tree-shadowed path, but it was still too far away to see clearly. Closer, the shape resolved itself into two parts, one large, one small. The large shape had long legs and a steeply-humped back; the smaller, walking beside it, was a man.
'It is Ronan,' Fionn confirmed. 'I told you he would not fail us.' Standing up quickly, he said, 'He will not know where to find us. I will bring him.'
Murdo watched as the monk hurried down the tree-covered hill, his pale form flitting in and out of the moonlight. Upon reaching the trail, he saw Fionn approach the elder priest, whereupon they both turned and proceeded towards them. The camel appeared to grow larger with every step; in fact, it was a far bigger animal than Murdo had realized. And it stank of rancid dung.
Indeed, it was one of the most repulsive creatures Murdo had ever seen. The beast was covered with a thick pelt of matted, mangy hair that hung in ragged clumps; bulging eyes gazed lazily out from a small, flat head perched atop a long, ungainly neck; huge flat feet splayed out from bony, scabrous legs, and its great hump sat like a shabby mountain above its distended belly. The thing shuffled when it walked, and folded itself awkwardly when it lay down-which it did as soon as Ronan stopped tugging on its rein rope.
'We must hurry,' Ronan said upon reaching them. From a yoke-shaped wooden frame he withdrew a wad of cloth which he handed to Murdo. 1 brought you some clothes.'
'We have been waiting all day,' Murdo said bluntly, accepting the clothes.
'I thought it best to wait until nightfall,' the elder priest replied, 'when I knew the beast would not be needed.'
'You stole it!'
'Borrowed it, yes,' corrected Ronan. 'As it says in the Holy Scriptures: As they approached the Mount of Olives, Jesu sent two of his disciples ahead saying, 'In the village ahead, you will find a camel tied there. Untie it and bring it to me, and if anyone should ask what you are about, tell them the Lord has need of it, and he will give it to you right away.' I simply obeyed the Good Lord.' The priest glanced at the sky to reckon the time. 'Still, it would be best for us if the animal was found in its place by morning.'
'But I am going to Edessa to find my brothers,' Murdo declared.
'As to that, I have had a better thought,' Ronan replied. 'For now, get you dressed while the brothers and I secure the treasure.'
The priest hurried away again, leaving Murdo to stew. He quickly shrugged off Emlyn's mantle, and pulled on the clothes Ronan had brought for him – a pair of breecs, with a wide cloth belt, and an ample siarc of a fine, lightweight material, much like the flowing robes favoured by the inhabitants of the region. There were no boots or shoes, but he could not have worn them anyway. While he dressed, the others busied themselves with loading the treasure.
The work was swiftly done, and Ronan hastened to where Murdo was wrapping the belt around his waist. 'Come, we will get you onto the camel's back.'
Murdo regarded the ramshackle creature dubiously. 'I can walk,' he insisted.
'Your stubbornness does you no credit,' Ronan said firmly. 'You will ride, and that is the end of it.'
Together Emlyn and Fionn hefted Murdo onto the front part of the yoke-shaped frame; he perched on the top, his feet dangling either side of the camel's long neck, the treasure bundles bound either side of the saddle behind him.
Stepping to the head of the camel, the senior cleric said, 'Hist! Hist!' The sleeping animal awoke, tossed its head, and stood, unfolding itself awkwardly and shaking its burden from side to side. Ronan, holding tight to the rein rope, pulled hard and the beast gave out a dreadful blaring blat. 'Hist!' said Ronan sharply. The camel blatted again, but turned and started slowly down the hill towards the trail. Murdo held tight to the wooden pommel with both hands as the animal lurched along, its ungraceful swaying threatening to throw off its reluctant passenger with every step.
They reached the trail and turned towards the city. 'Now will you tell me where we are going?' asked Murdo; he had begun to get the rhythm of the creature's jerking undulations.
'Gladly,' answered the priest. 'While searching around the city today, I learned of a monastery nearby-it is outside the walls, so it escaped pillage. I think we will find the good brothers eager to help.'
'A monastery,' grumbled Murdo. He could see the thing drifting from bad to worse. 'How can that possibly help
