Sihtric traced the letters on the bit of vellum with his finger. ‘Tattooed across his back, compressed Bible quotations and all. This evidence of a stitched-up arrow wound is a detail that adds veracity to the whole saga, doesn’t it? And when he died, stranded centuries out of his own time, the monks who tended him cut the skin off his back, and treated it as they would any bit of calfskin to be used for scribing.’

Orm stared at the bit of human skin, flayed off the body of a man from a vanished future. He felt obscurely angry. What strange world was he living in that such things could be possible? ‘Tell me what you intend to do about all this.’

‘I intend,’ Sihtric said coldly, ‘to follow al-Hafredi’s example.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I have seen an Islamic future, through al-Hafredi’s words. The Moors may have been turned back at Poitiers, but Islam is still strong - rampant. I will not allow such a victory to come about.’ He smiled coldly. ‘Like al-Hafredi, I will use the Moors’ own wealth and learning against them.’

Orm said slowly, ‘So you intend to develop your engines with Moorish money. Then you will hand over the weapons to the Christian kings. And with those engines, all of Islam will be destroyed.’

‘That’s the plan. Simple, isn’t it? It may be that I won’t live to see the project completed, of course. But that’s of no relevance. The march of Christendom transcends a mere human life.’

‘But to betray your sponsor—’

‘It won’t be hard. You’ve met him. The vizier’s no fool, but he is a drunk. He’s not hard to manipulate.’

Orm wasn’t so sure about that. ‘And what of your conscience, Sihtric? What of the helpless millions whose destinies you plan to deflect? What of their souls? Does that not trouble you?’

‘No, Orm, I am not troubled. There is another line from Revelation here. Chapter three: “I will not blot out his name out of the book of life.” But al-Hafredi did, and I will. You came here with your head full of vague plans to oppose me, didn’t you? Your wife’s nonsense about the Dove. But you’re full of doubt. Lesser men always are. But I, I am doing God’s work - I am sure of that - that is all that matters.’

A shadow crossed the room; a candle flickered. The vizier stood in the doorway, an armed guard at his side. ‘And all that matters to me, priest, is that at last I have proof of your treachery.’

XXI

XXI

Alone in the dark, Robert measured space and time.