and withdrew a gold bezant. He then pointed to the camel which was kneeling beside the post in the yard. The farmer babbled something and pointed to the beast, nodding enthusiastically. He turned and shouted towards the house, whereupon his brown wife emerged and, with a shy sideways glance at Murdo, bustled off towards the camel. She took up a stick, and struck the animal on the foreshoulder, clucking her tongue and hissing at it. The animal rose leisurely and, while the woman untied the tether, the farmer gibbered at Murdo, who merely nodded and smiled.
The task finished, the woman then joined her husband, and she, too, kissed Murdo's hand, whereupon Murdo produced a second gold bezant and gave it to her. She snatched the coin away and hid it in a knot in her mantle almost before her husband knew she had it. The farmer's eyes grew wide at his great good fortune, and he began babbling more ecstatically than ever.
With difficulty, Murdo extracted himself from the zealous veneration of the farmer and his wife, and set off again, leading his purchase. He bade the peasants farewell as they passed from the yard, though he knew they would not understand him.
'I wonder if they know they will never see their camel again?' mused Emlyn as they started down the hill towards the road once more.
'That is what the second coin was for,' Murdo replied.
'Yes, I thought as much,' Emlyn agreed approvingly.
'Look there,' said Murdo, pointing to the road below where a company of knights were just then passing. 'I wonder if it means the council is finished at last.'
'Who is it? Can you tell?' asked Emlyn, squinting his eyes. 'Is it Baldwin?'
'No, not Baldwin,' answered Murdo. 'I do not know who it is.'
The mounted soldiers passed out of sight long before the two on foot reached the road, and no more were seen as they climbed the steep slope of the Holy Mountain. They passed the church, and moved through the crowds huddled around the walls to find the gates flung wide and the yard within filled with horses and armed men. Murdo did not hesitate, but went in straight away before anyone could stop him.
They had taken but two steps past the threshold however, when they were met by a very distracted gatekeeper. 'I am sorry,' he said. 'No one must enter. We are closing our doors for the night by order of the emperor.'
'Please,' said Emlyn, 'we will not disturb anyone. We wish only to retrieve the remains of this man's family from the catacombs, and we will be on our way.'
The gateman frowned. 'It is the emperor's command!' he insisted, trying to push them back out.
'You did not open the gates to us,' Murdo told him. 'The gate was open and we came in. If anyone asks, you can tell them we were already inside.'
'I dare not!' shrieked the man. 'The emperor-'
'Is the emperor here?' wondered Emlyn, looking at the commotion in the yard.
'It is the Grand Drungarius, the emperor's personal envoy,' the worried gateman replied. 'He has just returned from the council at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Now you must leave at once. Please, it will be on my head if anyone finds out.' He clutched at Murdo's sleeve as if to pull him out.
Murdo whirled on the porter; his hand snaked out and caught the fellow by the wrist and gripped it hard. 'I am going to fetch my father's remains from the catacombs,' he said, putting his face close to the gateman's. 'When I have done that, I will be on my way. You can help us, or you can stand aside.'
The porter blanched and looked to his fellow cleric for help. 'You see how it is,' said Emlyn. 'It will only take a moment, and no one will even know we are here.'
The gateman relented then. 'God have mercy,' he muttered, and flapped his hand at them. 'Go on… go on-and hurry!'
Keeping to the perimeter of the yard, they made their way through the confusion of soldiers. Off to one side, surrounded by a group of tall soldiers in gleaming armour, Murdo saw the abbot and the dark-featured man he had seen the night they came to the monastery. As he hurried by, the man looked up and stared directly at him, and Murdo knew he had been recognized. The man turned his attention once more to what the abbot was saying, and Murdo and Emlyn continued on to the small building behind the refectory and kitchens. Murdo ducked inside and fetched a torch from the box beside the door, lit it from the embers of one of the ovens, and then they both descended to the darkness of the catacombs below.
The air cooled wonderfully as they went down into the earth.
Murdo stepped from the staired passageway and was met by the scent of dry mould and ancient dust. In the flickering light of the torch, he saw their footprints from their previous visit on the floor, and followed them through the first two galleries and the next and into the one beyond-the unfinished gallery where they had laid the treasure.
Murdo saw his father's shield below one of the niches where they had hidden the treasure; he squatted down and, when he did not see anything, he thrust the torch inside. The shroud-wrapped, corpse-like bundles were still there, along with the sword and belt, and hauberk. He quickly checked the other niche as well, and saw that all was as they had left it. He realized he was holding his breath, and exhaled a long, slow sigh of relief. 'All is well,' he told Emlyn. 'They are still there.'
'What did I tell you?' said the monk. 'There is no place safer than the catacombs.'
'I will remember that,' Murdo replied, pulling the first of the bundles from the niche.
They worked quickly and quietly, dragging the bundles up from the catacombs and binding them with cords to the camel's saddle frame. Lastly, Murdo retrieved his father's sword, shield, and hauberk, and tied them on as well. Satisfied that his treasure was secure, Murdo led the camel back out into the yard again.
The commotion had abated somewhat, and they hastened along, unnoticed by any save the gatekeeper, who was greatly relieved to see them. He opened the gate as they approached. 'Hurry! Hurry!' he said, beckoning them through.
Murdo paused a few paces outside the gate. 'Do not stop!' said the gateman, rushing towards them. 'Move on. No one knows you were here. Move on before they find out.'
Turning to Emlyn, Murdo whispered, 'Talk to him. Keep him occupied for a moment.' He pushed the priest forward. 'Make certain he looks the other way.'
Emlyn scurried forth. 'Thank you, brother,' he said, taking hold of the gateman's arm and turning him around. 'Truly, you have rendered us a divine service, and we are grateful for your kindness.' He walked the gateman back towards the gate. 'Never fear, you will not see us again.'
'It is not myself who has made this command, you understand,' said the worried cleric. 'It is the emperor's envoy. We must do what he says, and -
'I am certain of it,' said Emlyn, breaking in. 'Rest assured, we bear no ill feelings.'
'On the contrary,' said Murdo, stepping up beside him, 'I want the monastery to have this as a remembrance of our gratitude and thanks for your help.' With that, he placed a fine golden bowl into the astonished gateman's hands.
'What is this?' whined the porter. He gaped fearfully at the bowl as if a world of fresh trouble opened before him.
'A gift,' Murdo assured him. 'I want you to take it to your abbot and tell him that this is my thanks for the brief use of the catacombs. Will you do that?'
'It will be in his hands before vespers,' replied the gateman, relieved to have the matter resolved.
'Then we will trouble you no more. Come, brother,' he said to Emlyn, 'we are away.'
They left the gateman standing before his gate, clutching the golden bowl and gawking after them. They passed the church and started back down the hillside. Murdo looked out across the valley to the Holy City, now misty in the haze of a hot day's rosy twilight, and, for the first time since leaving home, felt as if he had finally, at long last, arrived.
They descended into the valley, passing beneath the city walls once more. Upon reaching the Jaffa road, Murdo looked for the last time at David's Tower, and then turned his face to the west and put Jerusalem at his back. 'We will find a place to sleep beside the road,' Murdo said. 'Are you hungry?'
'A little bread and wine would sit nicely with me,' Emlyn said. 'But I am content.'
'Maybe we can buy some bread and wine from a farmer,' Murdo suggested. 'Or find some water at least.'
