'Obviously, it is a name employed to conceal the true nature of the treasure.'
'And this letter tells where to find it?'
'It does – I think.' She pointed to the portion of the document written in a different language. 'I cannot read the rest, but I think it must tell where the treasure is to be found.'
The younger woman regarded her sister suspiciously. 'Why did we go to the palace tonight? And do not say it was to steal this letter, because you did not even know it was there.'
Cait stood and began folding the letter carefully.
'You are going to have to tell me sooner or later,' Thea pointed out. 'You might as well tell me now.'
'We must hide this where no one can find it.'
'Cait,' said Alethea, adopting a disagreeable whine, 'tell me-why did we go to the palace?'
Cait sat down again. Placing the parchment square on her knees, she held it in both hands as if she was afraid it might unfold itself and fly away. 'Listen carefully. I will say this but once. We went there to confront Father's murderer and hold him to justice.' She gazed steadily at Alethea and added, 'I was going to kill him.'
Alethea gaped in amazement at her sister's audacity. 'The knife… It is true-you were going to stab him…' Her voice trailed off as the full impact of her sister's ruthlessness broke upon her. 'Oh, Cait -'
'Renaud de Bracineaux murdered our father,' she continued. 'Papa named him before he died. The magistrate refused to accept the word of a woman; he refused to do anything-so I had to do it myself.'
'Oh, Cait,' Thea whispered, her voice made small by the magnitude of her sister's cold-blooded confession. 'God help us.'
Caitriona gazed down at the document she held in her lap. 'I think,' she said, 'he already has.'
CHAPTER FIVE
'Is that the one?' demanded Renaud de Bracineaux, squinting at the rank of hire chairs across the square.
'It is, my lord commander,' answered the porter of Blachernae Palace. 'He comes to the palace sometimes.'
'Bring him here.' The commander sat on his horse in the middle of the street, sweating in the bright sunlight. His head hurt from last night's wine, and he felt bilious from too much rich food. Baron Felix d'Anjou, he thought- and not for the first time-was a profligate toad and his usefulness was swiftly coming to an end.
Also, the sooner he had his hand on the thieving bitch who had stolen his letter, the better he would feel.
He had not discovered the theft until this morning when he rose and went to wash himself. Passing the table, he had noticed the square of parchment was missing. He had summoned Gislebert at once. 'The letter,' he said pointing to the table. 'What happened to it?'
'I thought you put it away.'
'If I had put it away, would I be asking you what happened to it? Think, man!'
'That serving girl last night -' Gislebert began.
'Oh, very good, sergeant,' roared the commander, pushing Gislebert towards the door. 'Instead of standing like a lump of ripe cheese, go and find her.'
Gislebert had scurried off and returned a short while later with word that although no one knew the servant in question, the porter had seen two women arrive in a hired chair. 'He says the chair came from Tzimisces Square-not far from here,' the sergeant reported. 'He has seen it before.'
'Have horses readied,' barked de Bracineaux. 'We are going to get that letter back.'
'What of the porter?' asked Gislebert. 'He is waiting outside.'
'Bring him with us.'
Now he sat sweltering in the saddle, and watched the porcine gateman waddle across the square, leading a slender young Greek with the air of a jovial pirate. These people, these Greeks-a supremely deceitful race, thought De Bracineaux darkly, natural-born thieves and cut-throats each and every one. The easy, carefree grace of the young man-the insufferable indifference of his long, loping stride, and the subtle expression of superiority on his swarthy features filled the commander with a rank and bitter loathing. It seems, he decided, an example is in order here.
The thought made him feel better. Perhaps all was not lost. After all, the thief could not possibly know what it was she had taken, could not possibly imagine its unrivalled importance, its inestimable value. It had been the rash act of an ignorant and opportunistic slut, and she would pay for her impudence-he would see to that. First, however, he would teach the sly young Greek a lesson he would never forget.
'Do you recognize him?' grunted the sergeant as the porter trundled nearer.
'I have seen him before. He is the one.'
'Greetings, my lord, a splendid day for a ride in a chair. Where would you like to go?'
'Shut up, you,' said Gislebert sharply. 'You will speak when spoken to – understand?'
'That is not necessary, sergeant,' said de Bracineaux wearily. 'He is not to blame.' Regarding the slim dark youth before him, he said, 'What is your name, boy?'
The youth bristled at the derisory word but, considering the angry-looking men before him, swallowed his pride and said, 'I am Philippianous. How can I help, your majesty?'
The commander's eyes narrowed; he could not tell if the youth was making fun of him; more likely, he decided at last, the young fool really thought he was a king. 'You brought two women to Blachernae Palace last night. Where did you take them when they left?'
'I do not recall.'
'Liar!' snarled Gislebert, drawing back his hand.
Philippianous glared at the Templar sergeant. 'Is it my fault if a man cannot remember where he put his whores?'
Gislebert gave out a growl and swung at the young man, who jerked back his head, letting the blow sail harmlessly by. Before the sergeant could regroup for another swing, his commander called him off, saying, 'That will do, sergeant. He is used to being paid for his service, so we will pay.'
De Bracineaux put his hand into the leather purse at his belt, withdrew it and flipped a gold solidus to the young man. 'I trust that will help restore your memory,' he said,
Philippianous caught the coin in his fist and examined it before replying. 'They must be very important to you.'
'Where did you take them?'
'I brought them here,' he sighed, as if the conversation no longer interested him, 'because that was all the money they had.' He turned to go.
'A moment!' said de Bracineaux. 'I think you may be of further service to me. I will pay you for your trouble, never fear.' To the porter, he said, 'Take him back to the palace and wait with him there.'
When the two had gone, the Templars continued on. 'He was lying,' Gislebert said.
'No doubt,' replied the commander placidly.
'I could have made him tell us.'
'We will, but not here. The boy is well known hereabouts, and too many people have seen us already. If the women are close by, I do not want them warned off by a street fight.'
'What do you intend, commander?'
'Give him inducement enough to consult his memory, and we will soon have the letter in our possession once more.'
They rode on to the church of the Holy Apostles, which was no great distance from the square, attended a lengthy mass, and then broke fast at an inn which was frequented by many of the Templars who were now more or less permanently stationed in the city. They met several of their order and entertained them with a meal of fresh bread flavoured with caraway and honey, soft cheese, and wine diluted with lemon water.
After breaking their fast, they returned to the palace to find a very irritated Philippianous, who had been made to stand in the courtyard in the hot sun while he waited.
'Here you are,' said the commander, strolling into the courtyard, 'I had almost forgotten about you. Do forgive
