Diane stood with her back to the pillar, her foot tapping in wait. He had been gone for what felt like hours. She didn’t know of the time, but she knew it had been far too long.

The soft moan of a pained groan quelled the woman’s tapping. Her head dropped to the side, her heated gaze falling on the man beneath her. He had started this madness, that she was certain. He was the one who was responsible for the destruction of her city.

The weathered lids of the man’s eyes slid open, revealing his beady pupils entangled in a web of blood. His feeble hands inched across the stone floor, his quivering fingers latching onto Diane’s ankle.

She kicked the man’s hand away, stomping off out of reach before lowering herself to the man’s level.

“Please,” the man heaved through labored breaths. “We must leave.”

Diane’s face scrunched into a scowl as she watched the man struggle to sit upright. “Who are they?” She demanded. “Why are they attacking us?”

“I know not their names,” the man winced as his head fell to the pillar. He swiveled his head against the wooden column, his mouth hanging ajar, wheezing desperately for air. “Only what they are.”

“And that is?”

“Pirates,” the man spat before falling forward in a violent fit of coughs. His hands trembled at his sides, his fingers fighting to find the handkerchief in his breast pocket. Defeated in their fight, his hand fell limp. Blood tinted drool streamed down the man’s discolored lips as he brought himself upright, his ghostly pale face falling back against the pillar.

Diane’s frown faded as she watched the feeble man struggle to breathe. She brought herself to his side, pulling the muddied cloth from his pocket before wiping his chin.

“Bless you,” the man wheezed, catching the woman’s wrist. “You must leave,” he urged with widened eyes. “It’s only a matter of time before they find me.”

“But why? What do they want?”

“My jacket,” the man coughed, his fingers falling limp. “The binder.”

Diane’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. She slid her hand into the man’s coat, her fingers falling onto leather binding. She pulled the booklet from his pocket before running her fingers over the tattered drawstring holding the packet closed.

“Damascus,” the man groaned before she could pull the knot free. “Take it to Damascus with haste. They won’t stop their hunt until it is far from their reach. Miller. The scholar. Bring it to him.” With a final groan, the man’s head bobbed to his chest. “Quickly.”

Diane lifted herself from the floor as the man crumpled to a ball. She studied the leather binder before her, pondering the man’s mysterious quest. She thought long on hard on how she would fulfill it, or if she should even try.

The soft rumble of the Earth beneath her reminded her of the ongoing assault. Woodes had still not arrived. She had grown tired of waiting.