Betrayed. Christopher Dinsdale
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cool desert breeze. The thick gold medallion that hung from his neck shimmered in the growing moonlight. They clasped hands, the subtle placement of their thumbs confirming their brotherhood.
“Prince Henry, it is an honour to finally meet you. Welcome to Africa, my home.”
Prince Henry knelt down and bowed his head in submission. “Thank you, King Severus. The honour is truly mine.”
The king gripped the prince by the shoulders and helped him to his feet. “I wish this could be a time of celebration, Prince Henry. Your rule in the north is already legendary among the faithful. When you return home, please thank your King Robert for saving the lives of so many of our brothers.”
“The knights who have settled in Scotland have more than returned the favour. In one single battle, they put our enemy to the south to shame.”
The king smiled. “That is good to hear.”
An explosion ripped through the night air. King Severus glanced towards the burning city. “How I wish we could talk further, but as you know, my nemesis is close at hand.”
Prince Henry’s mood instantly soured. “Al-Din Khurshah?”
“I see you have heard of him.”
“He once saved my life. It pains me to do this without his knowledge.”
The king grunted. “You may have a friend in the leader of the Hassasin, but he has been my enemy since birth. That is why we must act tonight. Our Holy Relics must not fall into the hands of the infidel.”
Prince Henry grasped the king’s shoulder. “The Ethiopian people have been The Blessed Protector of these objects for centuries. There is no greater honour that could be bestowed upon a nation.”
“It is an honour that I now pass on to you and your people of Scotland. We can no longer guarantee protection of our holy treasure. It breaks my heart to give up the role of defender, but we have no choice. The Muslim armies and al-Din Khurshah are closing in upon my homeland. Our army is weak. Through the torture of a trusted advisor, the infidels discovered the whereabouts of our holy treasure. They will now stop at nothing to acquire it. The treasure must leave this area and be moved far away. And I can think of no nobler follower of Our Lord than you to assume this Holy Duty.”
Prince Henry stepped closer and nodded to the king as both men pondered the enormous magnitude of the moment. “I swear that I will do everything in my power to protect the treasure.”
King Severus was about to respond, but his voice cracked with emotion. Generations of his ancestors had been able to safely guard the treasure, and now he would forever be remembered by his people as the one who had failed his god. He fought back the tears in his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath. “We must hurry, Prince Henry. Your Templar attack upon Alexandria may not be a great enough diversion to throw al-Din Khurshah completely off the trail.”
The king snapped his fingers three times. A dozen burly soldiers materialized from the darkness. Dressed in chain mail armour with sheathed weapons at their side, four of the soldiers carried a large, intricately carved wooden crate. Two long wooden poles transferred the weight of the crate onto the shoulders of each man. The king signalled to the soldiers to follow him to the waiting craft. The oarsmen had already pushed the boat back out and turned it around, preparing for a quick departure. The king and his men strode out into the warm ocean water. They raised the crate up into the air, and passed it to the crewmen on board, who struggled with its weight but still managed to carefully lower it between the two middle benches. A commotion on the beach caused everyone to look back towards the treeline. Two soldiers rushed out onto the beach.
“They have found us!”
King Severus turned to Prince Henry. “Quickly! Leave! We will hold them off at the beach! You must not be caught!”
Prince Henry nodded solemnly and leapt into the boat. “Antonio! Get us out of here!”
“You heard him, men!” barked Antonio. “Dig in with those oars! Pull!”
The boat slammed into the first wave, the bow rocketing up its frothing face and landing on the backside of the swell with a terrific splash.
Prince Henry looked over his shoulder. The Coptic warriors had unsheathed their swords and formed a semicircle defense, protecting Prince Henry and his escape. King Severus stood before the men, his head bowed in meditation, palms together. Suddenly, a swarm of mounted horses burst through the vegetation and galloped onto the sandy shore. The king surprised the mounted attackers as he spread his arms wide, offering a greeting. The lead horseman threw something in the darkness. King Severus staggered forward several steps, fell to his knees, then collapsed onto the warm sand. The armed warriors screamed in anger and charged at the mounted fighters. Several horses fell to the slashing swords, sending their riders crashing hard to the ground. The remaining Arab fighters recovered quickly. They drew their weapons then retreated to a safe distance. The well-trained Hassassins then brought down the Coptic warriors with precision, galloping towards their prey and using their long lances to impale them where they stood.
Prince Henry watched the lopsided battle with the eyes of a warrior. He noted the efficient manner of the Hassassin attack and regretted bitterly that so many had to die to protect his precious cargo. On the fading shoreline, he could just make out the dying king lifting his head, gazing one last time at his retreating treasure. Prince Henry swore he saw a faint smile on the trembling lips.
Unable to find the treasure among the dead, the horsemen quickly discovered the silhouette of the escaping boat. They began shouting curses at the vessel in Arabic until their leader quieted them by raising his hand. He rode his steed out into the surf, his men following close behind. A voice echoed out to the sea in Arabic.
“Return what is ours!”
Prince Henry remained silent, hoping he would not be recognized in the darkness.
“Is this how the Prince of the North treats a brother? And to think that I once saved your life!”
“A calling beyond blood has brought me to do this,” cried Prince Henry over the surf. “You will always be my brother.”
“Then return to the beach, brother, so that I can send you off with a proper kiss!”
Antonio, listening to the interaction, sprang forward. “Get down!”
He tackled Prince Henry to the deck. Several objects flashed in the moonlight, whistling over the heads of Antonio and Prince Henry. There were several dull thumps in the wood. The rear right oarsman cried out in pain. Prince Henry crawled over to his wounded soldier. Embedded in his right shoulder was the intricately carved handle of a dagger. Two other daggers were entrenched in the wooden transom, just where Prince Henry had been standing moments earlier. He pulled one from the wood. In the tip of the dagger was a small hole. A tiny drop of deadly poison glistened menacingly in the moonlight.
Prince Henry laid the soldier down on the ribbed floor of the boat. “Don’t pull out the dagger, James, or you will release the poison!”
He took up the unmanned oar himself then nodded to his shocked crew. “Pull for your lives, men! If we fail to get back to our ship and set sail before sunrise, we will have wished we each had a Hassassin’s dagger embedded in our flesh. They will soon be upon us like rabid wolves!”
Rukn al-Din Khurshah stood on the beach, quivering with rage. He and his men had been so close. The few seconds it tad taken to battle the remnants of a dying monarchy had cost him success. If he had achieved his lifelong quest and recovered what was rightfully his, he would instantly become a timeless hero to all of Islam! Now he watched his dreams evaporate in the early morning mist.
All was not lost, however. There was still a chance they could catch the northerners in the open ocean with their quick, single-sailed dhows. He wheeled his horse around and cantered out of the surf.
“Back to Alexandria and our ships! We still have a chance to retrieve what is rightfully ours!”
The warriors galloped