He had waited until he was certain the laudanum had taken effect and they were all sleeping. He went to the barn and saddled the donkey he had ridden to the house, not wanting to impose on his hosts by commandeering one of their horses. He rode first to Fira, where he banged on the door of the sleeping man who operated the telegraph, sent an urgent cable to Naxos, and insisted on waiting until he received a reply. Fortunately for the telegraph man, it came with little delay. As Philip had expected, Demir had not planned to leave Naxos until morning, and now he agreed to an earlier departure so he might see Philip before meeting with Kallista in Fira.
That settled, and the telegraph man paid an exorbitant sum, Philip weighed his options. He did not want to return to the house and risk being discovered leaving early in the morning; the laudanum’s effects might not last that long. So instead, he made his way back to Ancient Thera, his donkey plodding slowly along the moonlit trail, and spent the remaining hours of the night back in his tent. He slept very little, and had already prepared himself to meet his nemesis by the time the first rays of the sun peeked above the horizon.
He had decided his best option was to seek the highest ground possible in order to watch the man’s approach. He climbed up the path to the ruins, but stopped before he reached the main section, choosing instead to set up watch just beyond the Christian church, from where he had a clear view of the road up Mesa Vouno. Demir’s telegram had said he would be there at ten o’clock, but Philip expected him to be early, and on this count, he was correct. Before nine, Philip saw a lone figure on horseback approaching the road, and he followed its progress up the side of the mountain.
The man stopped in the camp, and called out. Philip, unwilling to come down to his adversary, replied from above.
“You shall have to come up here, Hakan,” he called.