Summer, 1459
Rhodes Town
When the three dejected knights had disappeared into the corridor, the grand master returned to his seat.
“All went as planned?” he asked Drummond.
“Yes, Lord de Milly. I turned over the Arab merchants we’d held captive, and the Mamluks were satisfied the men had been treated well. My men and I stayed in the Genoese quarter in Alexandria, and no trouble visited us there. The gold you’d been promised was delivered without incident. All around, it was as peaceful a transfer as I could have hoped for.”
One of the Egyptian merchants he’d exchanged for the knights had arranged a deal with the Order. During his captivity in Rhodes Town, the knights had allowed him to live in an elegant home complete with cook and servants. The chest full of gold Drummond had carried back from Alexandria was payment from the merchant’s family for his lavish treatment.
“Do you bring news from the Sultanate?”
Drummond thrust a hand into his leather pouch and fished out the letter. He handed it over with another slight bow.
Lord de Milly turned the letter over in his hands, nodding in satisfaction at the unbroken seal. “Excellent. And I’ve been informed that Signor Syriano has returned to his home as well.”
Drummond nodded. “He was a pleasant companion on the voyage, my lord.”
The grand master’s mouth tightened. “Even though he carries safe-passage papers, I worry each time he journeys east. He’s a valuable asset to the Order. I only let him return to Alexandria and Damascus to get training and supplies that are impossible to obtain here.”
“I’d be happy to accompany him east on his next voyage, Lord de Milly.”
The grand master pulled a small velvet sack from a drawer and tossed it to Drummond. “I wish I had a dozen privateers of your caliber. There are many missions requiring skills that only you seem to have. You’re a seasoned sea captain, your fighting instincts are superb, and you speak—what, a half-dozen languages?” He leaned back in his chair. “I’ve come to expect the highest standards from you, Master Fordun, and I’ve yet to be disappointed. It would be a huge blow to the knights if you were to return to Scotland.”
He put his elbows on the arms of his chair and tented his fingers together, contemplating Drummond with a probing gaze.
“I’ve no intention of returning to my homeland,” Drummond said brusquely.
“Your family must long for your return.”
“My life is here. This is where I belong.” Even as he spoke, the lurch of sorrow in his heart pinned Drummond to the floor like a lead weight. The falcon shifted on its perch, opening its wings and beating the air for an instant. It was as if the bird felt his emotions shift and could not help but react.
“You do have a family, do you not?”
Drummond swallowed. “Of course. My father and mother are dead, God rest their souls. But I’ve brothers and sisters left to me.”
Half his pay went home to them, had always done. If he could, he would take the form of a falcon this instant and wing his way back to Scotland. For his family’s sake, though, he would not return—not as a man, a bird, or a puff of wind. With each letter from a sibling, his heart railed wildly against his ribs, throbbing with hope. So far, the words he’d prayed for had not appeared. It was more than ten years since he left Scotland, and he’d almost given up hoping his chance to go back would come. Hope sometimes hurt more than missing home.
“Do not imagine I take you for granted.” The grand master’s voice softened. “I know exactly how valuable you are to the Order. What can I do to show you our gratitude?”
Drummond looked at him in surprise. This was unexpected. The Order had already been extraordinarily generous to him. Asking for more money when he had a bag of gold in his hand seemed greedy. All he could think to do was stall.
“I—I’d like to reflect on it, my lord, if you find that agreeable.”
“As you wish. At the very least, you must join me for a feast at my villa on Saturday. You’ll be quite entertained, I imagine. And you’ll no doubt make some beneficial acquaintances.”
Drummond weighed the sack in his palm and inwardly groaned. The last thing he wanted was to share a table with fancy folk all spewing hot air. He longed for the freedom to spend his scant time off as he wished. But the grand master was king in all but name. To refuse his invitation would be disastrous. For starters, velvet sacks full of gold coins would never come Drummond’s way again.
“That’s generous of you, my lord,” he replied in as polite a tone as he could muster. “I’d be honored.”
Thank you so much for hosting the blog tour for Sea of Shadows.
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Mary Anne
The Coffee Pot Book Club
Thank you for hosting Sea of Shadows on the blog today!
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Amy Maroney
You're very welcome! I hope the tour was a great success!
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