‘My people are no fools, Lord Battal. Today they saw that we can resist if we choose to. Morale is high.’

So the exchange went on. Katāros listened while the envoy did his best to impress on the emperor what an impossible position the city was in, how they had no choice but to submit, and so on, and so on. Good God, if the Arab could have put it to music he would have! Leo danced this way and that to the envoy’s song, but Katāros could see he was taunting the young warrior. He watched the envoy’s almond-shaped eyes cloud with anger and frustration. Handsome eyes, nevertheless; his mother must have been a rare beauty. One of those desert flowers which the Syrians were so fond of keeping out of sight.

The audience ended badly.

Katāros escorted the envoy from the emperor’s presence, breathing in the fumes of his frustration. Outside, they had time only for a brief exchange. ‘You must attack at once,’ Katāros said in a quick, low voice. ‘Do not squander the chance I have given you.’

‘We shall see whether what you have given me proves its worth. But it is not enough.’

‘Not enough? I’ve given you the keys to the city!’

‘If the key fits the lock,’ returned Abdal-Battal. The almond eyes narrowed. ‘In any case, we want more.’

‘What more?’

‘Find us the secret of that fire of Shaitan.’

‘What? Have you lost your mind? There’s no more closely guarded secret in all the empire.’

‘Our fleet is as good as defenceless without it, though I would never say so in there.’

‘But not four men in the whole city know it.’

‘That’s your concern. But if you mean to collect on the price we agreed, then find a way to get it. Bring me that,’ the envoy smiled, ‘and you shall have all the gold in Damascus.’

‘An assault is now certain, Majesty.’ Having regained his composure, Katāros had returned to the Chrysotriklinos and now stood before the throne.

‘That’s the idea, my friend. Let them break their bones against our walls for a while. And meanwhile I shall continue to send messages of love to my brother prince, eh?’ Leo took a long quaff from his wine cup. ‘Maslama! Ha! The poor fool. If he’d been a woman I wanted to seduce, I could have done it. I don’t suppose he’d have refused me anything I desired.’ Leo laughed at that and Katāros tasted bile. The man’s complacency rankled like a hair shirt. Still, Katāros assured himself, he would not have to suffer it much longer.

‘Our northern guest,’ said Leo abruptly. ‘What has become of her?’

As a chamberlain of the palace, Katāros was always ready to switch subjects. ‘She waits upon your leisure, Majesty. I heard she succeeded in obtaining her countryman from Arbasdos after all.’