The Codex Lacrimae, Part 1: The Mariner's Daughter and Doomed Knight

Chapter 17: Assassins at the Gate

Only a little while after shadows fell on the pavilion and tents of Saladin's camp before Hisn al-Akrad, the sun's light faded on the uppermost chambers of the Krak des Chevaliers. The Hospitallers gathered in Arcadian's solarium held thoughts and words in check as two female servants brought in food and drink, built a fire, and lit the wall sconces.

When the two women departed, Ríg resumed speaking: "We simply don't know what information this 'Codex' provides, Khajen."

"From the size of that book," Father Damian said, "it might be some time before we learn anything from it that would be relevant to our situation, if, indeed anything of the sort were to be found in there."

From his sick bed, Mercedier looked from Damian to Ríg, then settled his gaze on Ibn-Khaldun who sat listening quietly to the men talk.

"I think that what Master Ibn-Khaldun was trying to tell us―correct me if I am wrong, Khajen―was that the very possession of the Codex Lacrimae itself is of some import. Oui?"

"C'est vrai," Ibn-Khaldun replied. "There's grown a story among my people that concerns this Codex Lacrimae. We simply call it the 'Dark Book.' Its tale is one that is told in whispers when all other stories have been exhausted and the winds of a sandstorm press against our protective tents."

"I'm still not sure why," Ríg said. "From what you've said about Raj' al-Jared, the warlord couldn't read it, and what he supposedly 'did' with it sounds like atrocities that could be done by anyone with a mind to torture."

"Yet," Ibn-Khaldun said, "I've thought long upon this matter, and there's something of critical importance in the fact that, until you read portions of it, no one's been able to translate the Codex's words."

Mercedier shifted his position on the bed and groaned. "I vote that we just let Ríg read the damned thing, and see if there's anything in it that helps against a siege: the recipe for Greek-fire, poisonous potions for dipping arrowheads, where to find djinni in bottles ... that sort of thing." He gave a curt nod at the book that lay on the coverlet at his feet. "A book that size ought to take you, what, Ríg, five or six hours to get through?"

"More like five or six months," Ríg gamely replied, although he hadn't shared with his friends the translation of the book's first sentence. He greatly feared what those words portended for the rest of the work.

"I believe that any translation from the Codex would be as incomprehensible as all our efforts in trying to read it," Ibn-Khaldun said, echoing the thoughts of his apprentice.

A commotion arose at the door. "Hold a moment, Master," Ríg said.

Pellion burst inside the room with Jacob next to him. The younger boy was out of breath, but spoke immediately to Ibn-Khaldun.

"Sir!" Jacob exclaimed, "There are men outside in the inner courtyard!"

"How many?" Ríg asked. "And are you sure they're not guards?"

"I counted nine men, and they wore black clothing ..." Jacob started to reply, then he looked at the ebon robes of Ríg and the other knights Hospitaller. "Oh. You're all in black."

"Most of us, yes ..." Ríg's words were interrupted by Perdieu exploding again in complete frustration.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est? Boys running into a private meeting of the Grand Master?" The baron moved quickly toward Jacob as if he intended to personally throttle him. "What language does this brat speak?"

Jacob gauged the speed of the onrushing man, then dove aside under a table, evading Perdieu's grasp.

"Bernard!" Ibn-Khaldun shouted, "Leave the boy be! He came with me and speaks Aramaic! He warns of spies in the castle. Invaders!"