Cairo, 1108
Vissarionas ek Lesvou was returning to the Palace for yet another stimulating tutoring session with the Caliph's favorite concubine, Aliya. The two had known each other for just over a year, and their relationship had been an extraordinairy influence on the young man's life. At his request the girl had moved the meeting to a more central room; though his time with the girl consumed and occupied him, was often the focus of his thoughts for days at a time, he had not forgotten his mission. His redemption rested on securing a place close to the power structure here and this was the best possible avenue. The concubine was mercurial and impossible to deal with on some days, but she was a devoted friend as well, and for all the years of work making contacts this was the closest Vissa had come to the true center of events in Cairo. Walking down the hall Vissa knew he would pass mere feet from the Caliph's most private chambers.
At last, after so many years, Vissa had arrived: The Caliph's inner sanctum beckoned. And the timing was perfect, too, for the master of Egypt was deep in conversation with his trusted viziers and other advisors. Vissa listened like he had never listened before in his life. After all, this was what the Patriarch had wanted him to do. This was to be his penance for Antioch.
"...the ancient monasteries?" a voice came, drifting out of the elaborate, alien chamber. "How interesting. Are we sure we want to proceed with this?"
"Absolutely," came another voice. This one was deeper and richer, and much more self-assured; the voice of someone used to being listened to and respected. There was little doubt that this man was definitely the Caliph. "I cannot allow this sort of thing to happen, after all. Yes, the ancient monasteries are to be destroyed immediately, the ones that are still standing. I've left them up for far too long as it is. This land, Allah be praised, has long been purged of heathen control."
The ancient monasteries! Vissa shuddered in disgust. These were ancient Christian holy places - somewhat overlooked, especially with nearby Jerusalem, but holy places nonetheless - and the Caliph meant to destroy them! Every good Christian scholar knew the names of such figures as Paul the Hermit, Saint Macarius, and Anthony the Great! It was these early figures and their places of worship that allowed the Christian faith to initially grow. Orthodoxy itself rested on the backs of such great figures, and yet they were in great danger.
Vissa crossed himself, silently thanking God and the Patriarch for sending him on this mission. Evil was clearly at work here in Cairo. After this ritual was completed, he continued listening carefully.
"I think it's time I finished the job," the Caliph continued. "Clearly, any Christian influence in these lands, even a weak one, is blasphemous and ultimately detrimental to the good Children of Allah. It's time that we start following Sharia more closely."
"What do you suggest, Your Excellency?"
"Expel some Christians from Cairo. Kill the rest. And make certain we expel those after we kill the others, so that the expelled know never to return. From now on, there will be no place for Christians of any denomination in Cairo."
Vissa was astonished to hear this from the Caliph. The Christian quarter in Cairo was a rich and diverse area, and though the Coptics have been played against the Gnostics of late there was no warning of such a storm coming. Some sort of religious fervor must have overtaken the leadership. It was time to go. There was much to be done. His retainers had to be gathered back in, a way out secured, and as much of his amassed resources and wealth as possible carried off. Briefly Vissa was distracted by the thought of Aliya languishing in the office down the hall, wondering what could have kept him, but duty must come before pleasure!
It was now evening, back in the familiar neighborhood. A runner had been sent to the docks, and as much as could be salvaged in haste from the trading business had been gathered. Vissarionas had told his men of what he heard and now they were all packing as fast as they could, not to mention checking the streets roughly every two seconds for any signs of soldiers. Duty for the Patriarch or not, it was time to get out of Cairo while they still could. Besides, he was sure that Nicholas would want to hear about this as well.
"Vissa." Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Stephen, one of his retainers helping to pack. He pointed down the street, where five soldiers were making their way down. They did not seem to be aimlessly walking, passing the time by; nor were they looking around. These were men who knew were they were going. There probably wouldn't be time now to warn any of Vissa's Coptic allies.
It couldn't be the opening of the suggested slaughter, the Caliph would send more than five for that, but still Vissa uttered a brief prayer in their names. No, it must be him that they came for, must be his name on their scroll. Perhaps Aliya had mentioned his failure to appear to someone. Perhaps the new route had been mapped, and the timing figured out... Perhaps Vissarionas' luck had run out.
The soldiers, one of them carrying a piece of parchment, stopped right in front of Vissarionas's quarters. The one with the parchment looked down at it, looked up, and then nodded to his men. Just his luck, they approached Vissarionas as he was securing his saddlebags to his horse.
"Vissarionas ek Lesvou?" one of them asked.
"Yes?" Vissarionas replied, figuring honesty was the best policy.
It wasn't. Upon hearing confirmation of their man's name, the soldiers all drew their swords, without a word, and made for him. From up the street there came a vibrant TWANG and a crossbow bolt took the front guardsman in the throat. The others halted and hesitated, looking for the source of the fire, giving Vissa and his men time to mount their horses. Vissa drew his sword, twirled it expertly in the air to draw the Egyptian guard's attention, and then reached down and a gave Rafi his free hand to help him up onto the horse behind him after the boy ran clear of the alley the shot had come from.
"Ride!" At his command the horses leapt into motion, carrying him and his three retainers down the quiet streets towards the dock. Their speed was somewhat hampered by Rafi's extra weight, but his stallion was up to the task of adding the boy's slight weight to his load. As they passed down the roads locals scattered out of their path, and they glimpsed groups of guards moving along parallel streets. None of them were mounted, but word had clealy passed ahead of them. The Cairo dockyard was packed with ships of all sizes and shapes, the the dock workers were moving cargo of every on every side. Fortunately Vissarionas had been operating in the slave trade for years, and had ample contacts among the ship captains, so as soon as he rode up he knew instantly which ship to seek.
"The Golden Grape lads, and be quick!"
The captain was a massively fat Venetian whose ship was laden with spices and a few select slaves of particular value. Vissarionas knew the man was preparing to depart today already, and wouldn't be shy about accepting a large commission for a small detour in the direction of Constantinople. There was a considerable commotion in the dockyards as the Palace guards attempted to move in and the general chaos of the scene restricted them from coming in force. By the time they had cleared a path the ship was already setting out at sea under a favorable wind. The journey would be long, but at last redemption was within Vissa's reach!
Once the city was well out of sight, though, Vissarionas kept wondering about the chain of events that had led to his premature departure. Two questions burned: What had set the Caliph to take such drastic measures and how did the guards find out about him?
These were two questions that he would long ponder as the Venetian ship slowly made its way to the Byzantine capital.
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