Shadow of Death (Book 2 of Hanthalah)

Chapter 25

"You are out of your fucking mind!" Andronicus roared.

"Andronicus!" I exclaimed. "That's what you love about me. Now, keep your voice down and speak in Coptic."

The governor had the ten hostages I provided him gagged and bound, taken elsewhere. He handed me Andronicus in return for any valuable information I was to divulge.

"You think they don't speak Coptic in the governor's palace?" Andronicus asked. Coptic was the tongue of the Egyptians.

"It's more likely that they know exclusively Greek," I swept my hand impatiently. "Now, would your sailors be on board with this?" I giggled. "On board. Because they're sailors."

Andronicus glared at me.

"Would they, my friend?" I pestered him. "This is of the utmost importance."

"What makes you think I would agree to this," he hesitated before speaking.

I stopped as we emerged from the hallway into a splendid courtyard overrun with greenery. There was a shallow pool at its center where rose petals littered its surface.

"I know you will, my friend," I spoke in a hushed tone, continuing the conversation in Coptic. There were two guards here within earshot.

"I'm not going to get myself killed because you're my friend," he groaned. "Besides, it is you who owes me a favor. I provided you with shelter and profession. And you betrayed that trust."

I kept walking, away from the guards and toward the pool.

"I know, my friend. I am indebted to you. I would see that debt soar, however. Especially that this favor is in your interest."

He raised an eyebrow. "It is in my interest to betray Christ and Emperor?"

I smirked. "Only the Emperor."

"And why would I do that? It's foolhardy."

"Is it? You may have this notion that the Roman Empire is invincible, but we have given the world cause to believe this is untrue. We have taken much of Egypt. Syria and Palestine pay tribute to the man in Madinah. As we speak, there are armies pushing north to the fringes of Anatolia. We have brought this Emperor of yours to his knees."

"I am unconvinced."

I sighed. "You had an uncle."

Andronicus snapped his neck toward me. There was a flare to his eyes augmented by the palm that coiled about my throat in half a heartbeat. The man may have been a merchant and a seafarer, but gods was he strong.

"You have no right to speak of this," he fumed.

I gurgled, grabbing his fist. He eased his grip on me so I can speak.

"But I do, Andronicus, I do," I said, heaving. "Why must you bind yourself to Empire and Emperor that have shown you naught but persecution and tyranny? Do you think we give a rat's arse whether you are Miaphysite or Chalcedonian? Do you think we would have killed your uncle because of his preference?"

"Betraying everything I have ever known," Andronicus groaned again. "It won't bring him back."

"It will bring your cousin back, though," I replied hurriedly. "The priest. The one they exiled. Wherever, he is. Perhaps, enjoying a hermitage somewhere in the mountains? Yes? He can be a saint, Andronicus. Your own flesh and blood can be a saint, name recited and revered until the end of times. Think about it."

Andronicus hesitated. His grip on my throat began to ease further.

"Your men on the ship," I continued, never relenting. I was Hanthalah ibn Ka'b. The Devil trembles before me. "They are the poorest of the poor."