Free Doctor Who and the Crusaders by David Whitaker Page A

stated pleasantly.
    ‘Why should I drink with you?’
    ‘Because I have something to ask of someone. If only I knew their price.’
    El Akir found himself being led out of the shadows and across the courtyard, ushered into a chair and given a cup of wine. He took it with a bad grace and drank deeply, liking the gentle richness of the amber liquid, which held a stronger body than the rougher wines he usually drank. Ferrigo added some more wine to the cup generously.
    ‘This is a wine of France, a sample of some stock I carry in my ship which rests today at Acre. If you like it, I have a skin of it to give you.’
    ‘I’m not bought by you, merchant,’ growled El Akir. The other shook his head in pained surprise.
    ‘The servants here have told me something about you, El Akir. You are an Emir, rich and prosperous already, with an army of your own. You have, I hear, a fine palace in the town of Lydda, a short ride from here. You do not think I imagine I can buy a person such as you with a skin of wine.’
    ‘You know a lot. Why have you asked questions about me? Who are you? What are you doing in Ramlah?’
    The merchant listened to all the questions tolerantly, taking a small drink from his own goblet, his eyes never leaving the Emir’s face.
    ‘I have travelled a long way to speak with your Sultan; a rather weary journey. Neither Saladin nor his brother will receive me. As to who I am, well, I am a merchant, as you guessed, and my business is to buy and sell.’
    ‘It’s nothing to me,’ said El Akir, shaking his head a little as the strong wine began to take effect. ‘I’m leaving Ramlah.’
    ‘Returning to your palace at Lydda?’
    ‘Yes, if it’s any of your affair!’
    ‘Perhaps what holds you here is my affair.’
    The Emir stared truculently across the table and got to his feet, an oath forming on his lips at the confusing way the stranger was speaking to him. Yet something in the other’s manner stopped him and made him resume his seat again. Ferrigo smiled without any sign of triumph.
    ‘We both have reasons for being in Ramlah, El Akir,’ he said softly, leaning across the table. ‘Can we not help each other?’
    ‘Tell me your reason first,’ said the other cautiously.
    ‘Profit. I wish to arrange a safe conduct for caravans of goods to and from the Sultan’s headquarters, from Ramlah to Tyre and back again.’
    ‘We are at war,’ replied El Akir stupidly, shaking his head again to try and clear away the wine fumes.
    ‘Conrad of Tyre has fallen out with the King of the English and is sending an emissary here to make peace with your Sultan. Every army needs supplies and luxuries, while someone can be on hand to buy the booty captured in battle.’
    El Akir nodded, trying to look intelligent. A fly buzzed around his face and he made an ineffectual jab at it with his hand.
    ‘What is my part in this?’ he said at last.
    ‘Arrange an audience with the Sultan or his brother. I cannot pass the men who surround them.’ Luigi Ferrigo lifted his goblet of wine and stared at the rim of it intently. ‘But how could I return such a favour?’
    ‘There is a woman here, an English one, who has made me look a fool,’ the Emir blurted out. ‘I want to take her to my palace at Lydda. We’ll see who the fool is and who the master there. Help me – and you shall see the Sultan.’
    There was a silence for a few seconds as the merchant raised the goblet to his lips and drained it, wiping his mouth delicately afterwards with a piece of silk he kept at his belt.He stood up.
    ‘Arrange my audience for late this evening. When it is dark, wait by the stables. I shall bring the woman to you.’
    El Akir watched the merchant walk away into the palace, suddenly finding that his head was hanging heavily on his neck. His eyelids seemed to be having trouble staying open. The fly returned with others and buzzed around him but this time he found no energy to drive them away. He settled back in the chair with