Tanith of Gold 02

Alfonzo Attacks

He called twenty of his guards and they walked through the gates of the castle down towards the poorer part of town. Alfonso may have already sent word to his henchmen on the other ships. Tanith strode ahead and Rowan fell in step with the old soldier, Robert. They walked a while in companionable silence until they were a few paces behind the file of soldiers.

Robert shot a keen look at Rowan, “Forgive me, I am a blunt man and speak my mind far too often. I have seen this happen many times in the last few years, since she was fourteen years of age - even before that.” He hesitated, “I like you, young man. You are doing us a great service because we have arrived with nothing and no prospects.

But do not try to do anything against her will. It is time she was safely wed to someone -  but no man has interested her. She tells me she is wedded to her God, Ahura Mazda. She is a follower of Zarathustra like her Persian mother. But like her great-grandfather King Knut of Norway she has fire in her veins.”

He chuckled to see Rowan's look of astonishment. “Yes, she would be a princess in that land. King Knut ravaged his way across the sea, gaining great booty on the way - it is said he was only 19 but a fearsome warrior. On the way to the Crusade he came to pay his respects to King Roger of Sicily (your King's grandfather). He rather liked one of the Greek slaves of the court. He didn't like her well enough to take her back with him - but he was a dashing young man - and he left a red-haired son behind who was cared for by King Roger as one of his household, playing with his own sons. That son of a king was my father, who became a respected knight and faithful follower of King Roger. He trained me well and I was accepted into the Varangian Guards. I served the Emperor of Byzantium loyally as did my own son, Tanith's father. But when the city fell to the Crusader traitors,” he paused and looked away into the harbour, “we lost everything ... our livelihood ... our belief ... everything fell apart. That was in the year 1204 and it was a very black year for us.”

They walked in silence until the old man was able to master his voice and he continued in a flat tone, “Tanith's mother was raped and butchered by those Frankish monsters who called themselves Christians. Tanith was hidden by a maid in a cellar and that is where I found her during a lull in the fighting. She was barely four years old. I picked her up and went to look for my son and while I was out, stumbling through the smoke and chaos, he found his wife's body and rushed away. I never saw him again.”

Rowan was respectfully silent as they walked down the hill. It seemed to take effort for Robert to speak of these events even after the fifteen intervening years. “And since then... where did you go?” he prompted.

“I hid like a coward because I had the child to care for. Then when the city was burning I just walked away while the victors drank and defiled the city. They placed a naked whore on the Emperor's throne and crapped on the altar of the Grand Sofia cathedral. Frankish dogs!” His voice had risen into the night air and he loosened his sword. Tanith turned around swiftly and came to his side. She hooked her arm into his and said lightly, “Grandfather .... you promised me!” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and he subsided into a grim silence.

She turned to Rowan, “This place is so much bigger than Crete. How long have you been here?”

Rowan felt grateful for the opportunity and launched into a description of the Emperor's plans, the huge granaries to be built, the laws, the vision for the multicultural society. Throughout this eulogy they were tramping down the hill towards the docks. It was a winter's evening and falling dark quickly. It was not an elegant side of the town but full of interesting sounds and smells. They could smell the ever-present fish smell of the approaching harbour and the pungent smells of a nearby spice market. On either sides of the narrow streets they heard voices raised in mirth or anger and the wailing of children.

Rowan noticed with irritation that the refuse heaps at each corner were far too large and odorous and resolved to send a messenger to the refuse manager. This new department was another idea of the Emperor's and twice a week large wagons were dispatched to collect refuse from large earthenware containers.

He was turning to mention this to Tanith when he realised several things at once. His guards were out of sight, he was alone in the street, Tanith and Robert had suddenly disappeared, and emerging out of an alleyway ahead of him in the darkening street was a smirking Alfonso Medici. It was a rude shock, especially when he saw two large and menacing men on either side of Alfonso with drawn crossbows trained on his heart.

Tables turned

“Well met, my pretty Justice. Surprised? Wondering why I am not lashed to ribbons by your heathen soldiers ... petty justice!” His voice rose to a thin scream. “My loyal guards rescued me while your guards were busy with my sailors. They had saved me for last. You and your pathetic, whining Devil-spawn Emperor will pay for this. I am under the direct protection of the Pope himself. These men are from his personal bodyguard. We came to see what the Great Frederick is doing and we will report in full. Heathens and unbelievers infiltrated all over - a coven of very devils - ready for the plucking!” His lips sprayed with saliva but he knew better than to make too much noise. He hissed, “And now you will die for insulting a Medici!”

He raised his arm as if to signal their bolts into his Rowan's heart. Rowan was paralysed with fear and watched in fascination as the two men with crossbows simultaneously jerked slightly and grew silver handles on their foreheads which glinted in the subdued light. At the same time there was a sharp smacking sound and they pitched forward, their bodies twitching. With a snarl Medici reached for his dagger but looked down in puzzlement at the small sword sprouting from his chest. This sound was louder as the hilt had smacked into his ribs, such was the force of the throw. He slid down to the ground and was silent - his eyes still open and glinting.

“Those head shots were risky, my girl. You know how a shot like that can glance off the skull.” Robert and Tanith emerged from the shadows at the side of the street.

“Yes, I know, grandfather, but I had a clear shot, and I didn't know what armour they were wearing.”

They continued to bicker amicably about force and angles while they methodically retrieved their weapons. Tanith had to place her foot against one of the faces to extract her deeply-buried dagger and the slick sound it made coming out had Rowan reeling against the wall and to his shame he vomited into the gutter. She was instantly concerned and helped him up,

“I am sorry,” she said. “It is the shock. Raise your arms.” She helped him to raise his arms and breathe. Her pressure of her breasts against his back and the swing of her hair against his neck helped to bring instant focus and a semblance of control.

The belated arrival of the guards clattering back up the street, their stammered apologies and the arrangements for the reporting of the crime and the retrieval of the bodies occupied them all for a while. They were tired and sobered when they collected the small bags of belongings and returned up to the Palace.