Nicosia 1171:

Makedonios’s death had been sudden, unexpected. Or at least, that’s what Armatos thought when he arrived to take account of the estate that had been left to him. This idea was reinforced by the fact that Makedonios, a private man, had not put his things in an order which made them easily accessible to others. Clearly he wasn’t expecting to go when he did.

It had taken him the better part of a week, but Armatos had been able to square away what he could and get things started on tying up Makedonios’s loose ends. But there was one more thing he needed to do, a request that Makedonios had left for him specifically.

Armatos couldn’t make heads or tales of it, but he had been instructed to deliver a letter to a man named Esaias, the head monk at Kykkos Monastery.

And so, Armatos set off. As he rode, he idly wondered if this was something important.