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By Root 3060 0

see, to keep watch around him. The battlements offered small danger: such was the slope of the wall that a man would have had to lean far out to see him. The penthouse above them was different. For the present, John’s position was wholly in shadow and the bombardment, if the single, continuous shots could be called so, was lighting the sky from emplacements which, as they planned, left their stretch of wall in welcome shadow. It was possible that flares might be dropped. The real threat was more substantial, and imminent. Somewhere in that clouded black sky there was a moon due to rise very soon now. The disturbance had slowed them, and so had the loss of two workers. Now he and John were still on the wall and, caught by light, would be fully in view from the gallery.

John was not far away, and the stretch of wall that lay between them was not wholly smooth. Bit by bit, Nicholas began to inch towards him. He had progressed halfway when John raised his head and noticed. Nicholas pointed to the sky, made a gesture, and then clutched the wall, swearing. It was his year for skinned fingers, and climbing. It was the end of his year. He knew anyway what John was doing, which was setting the fuse. He waited, watching John’s hands shielding the spark from the tinder, and the moment he finished, he turned to descend at his back.

He had taken two steps when the guns stopped.

It had happened before: a mortar would jam, overheat, miss its turn. If caught climbing you checked and adhered to the wall, until the bombardment resumed to cover the rasp of your movements again.

It was not a good place to have to wait, this time. His handholds were slight, and his footholds were almost non-existent: from the way John was clinging, he was worse off. And to the right and above them were the black floor and lighter awning and sides of the gallery, which contained three nervous men who had already let off their handguns at random. His fingers scraping, Nicholas let his mind dwell for a moment on fuses. They were lit, but they were long. They had been deliberately set to defer the explosions. There was intended to be time to descend, to retire through the covert and to supervise the fast, careful infill of stone that would give them their bridge when the walls fell. Of course, if a random ball hit a mine, the wall would collapse before that, killing them, and the men in the gallery.

He had cramp in both the hands stretched above him. On his right, John suddenly changed his grip, grunting. The guns had not begun again. None of them. Why? His ears sang. It was silent, and they were marooned in the silence. He turned his head, and saw John’s face, tilted enquiringly. There was no point in waiting. He jerked his head, and began to move down.

As if he had thrown a torch into oil, light exploded. Radiance spread from the sky, and every object in the wide landscape stood revealed by it. The wall, the ditch, the countryside, the camps, the immobile guns and their gunners appeared painted with light on stark vellum. Above, the cloud banks had parted: the moon poured down its drenching blue brilliance. Below, a serpent of flame wreathed the ground: a burning river of light which wound from behind a dark knoll and spilled, slow as honey, towards the blind gates of Famagusta.

He witnessed a great procession, black-edged, bearing hundreds of flambeaux. The torches blazed upon tall tasselled banners, and lit robes of white and scarlet and gold, borne by men with innocent faces. In their hands shone the emblems and harness of sanctity: gold rood glimmered, and monstrance and thurible; and the Crucifix from St Sophia itself rode the night like a ship on their shoulders. Behind it, rank upon quiet rank, marched the Knights of St John of Jerusalem, the white linen cross on their mantles. And the singing was not in his head, but rose from the cowled, slow-moving figures who edged the bright file with their tapers. Their petition reached to the walls, clear and pure, low and rhythmic, invoking God, and forgiveness, and pity.

Behind that, laden with food, came