The Road to Miklagard

by Henry Treece

  Harald nodded his head slowly, ‘I could do that, my friend,’ he said. ‘The same thought had come to me as I sat thinking, but I was not sure then whether you two would be prepared to help the girl.’

  Grummoch smiled and answered, ‘I would prefer that she were the daughter of the High King of Erin, for she is, or was, my own betrothed; but in cases like this, a man does not inquire about a girl’s family or attachments before he gives her the help she needs. I am with you, Harald, come what may.’

  ‘And I,’ said Haro simply. ‘You did not need to ask.’

  Harald drew his friends close to him and whispered, ‘Good, then, my brothers. We will start as soon as the Guard at the main gate begins his tour of the outer wall. Then we shall reach the street without anyone knowing.’

  Giant Grummoch rubbed his great hands with glee. ‘I have spent so much time evading capture of one sort and another, such things as this are second nature to me now, friend Viking! But, one thing troubles me, what shall we do when we find her? We cannot bring her back here.’

  ‘No,’ said Haro, ‘nor dare we try to take her away from Miklagard, for if we were caught, we should pay the worst sort of penalty as deserters from the Imperial Guard.’

  Harald nodded and said, ‘I have already thought of that. We shall merely remove her to another place, until such time as we can get her safely away from this city of corruption and intrigue. I had thought that we might get her away to Kristion’s sister in the country, but that would place the Captain in an awkward position, since Irene trusts him entirely. So it will be best to put the girl in some little house in a back street, the house of such a man as my water-seller, for example, where she would never be suspected of hiding.’

  Haro said, with a strange smile, ‘There is one great problem – suppose she refuses to believe us that she is in danger? Suppose she refuses to come with us?’

  Grummoch flexed his great arms and said, ‘In my time, I have carried two grown calves at once. Surely I can manage a young girl!’

  Harald grinned and answered, ‘I do not know, giant. A young girl of this sort might well turn out to be difficult, even for such a man as you.’

  Just then Haro pointed down over the courtyard; the guard was presenting his javelin and coming up to attention, as they did when they were about to set off on a tour of the outer wall.

  ‘Come,’ said Harald, ‘now is our chance!’

  Removing their bright helmets so that the starlight should not give them away, glistening on the burnished metal, they bent their heads and moved along the wall and so down the first staircase that led to the courtyard.

  But before they reached the lower stairway, Harald held up his hand for them to stop. They did so and followed his gaze; he was staring at a small round window in the inner wall of the stairwell. The flicker of candlelight came through the aperture and also the sound of voices – two voices, a woman’s and a boy’s, the first insistent and domineering, the other high and tremulous, the voice of a coward, or one almost out of his wits with terror.

  Harald crept to the window, holding his scabbard tightly lest it should rattle against the wall and give them away. He looked down into a room almost as high and narrow as a water-well. From the many chains and gyves which hung from the walls, he knew what this place was – the torture chamber. But it was not the irons and manacles which caught the Viking’s eye – it was the two people in that horrible room – Irene and her weak son, Constantine. The boy lay grovelling among the straw on the stone floor, his legs chained to the wall, his arms stretched out in supplication.

  ‘I will promise to do anything you say, Mother of Glory,’ he moaned, ‘only do not leave me in this cell another night. I am frightened by the sounds that come in through the window when all the Palace is asleep. They seem to gibber and grunt at me, mocking me …’

  Irene smiled bitterly and pushed the boy’s head back with her sandalled foot.

  ‘I should think they do gibber and grunt at you, you fool! That is all the sense you seem to understand, gibberings and grunts!’ she said. She paused for a while then and half-turned away from the weeping Prince. Then so softly that Harald had difficulty in hearing her words, she said, ‘There are ways of preventing such things from troubling you, brave one. There are ways of stopping unpleasant sounds from reaching one’s ears … just as there are ways of stopping a man from seeing things which disturb him. You understand me, O Emperor?’

  As she spoke, Constantine began to howl with terror, trying again and again to grasp the fringe at the edge of her robe.

  ‘Great Mother, Dear One, Sweetest One,’ he cried, ‘do not hurt me, I beg you! I will do anything, anything, if you will not let them hurt me!’

  Irene looked down on her son in immense contempt, her cruel eyes narrowed, her cruel lips smiling wickedly. ‘So,’ she said in her deep voice, ‘this is the little puppet that thought itself an Emperor of the Roman World! This is the man who would lead an army to glory, is it?’

  Harald bit his lip and whispered savagely, ‘If I had a little bird bow here now I could rid Byzantium of a devil, a she-devil!

  Haro shook his head sadly, ‘Constantine is not worth it, my friend,’ he said. ‘He is as cruel as his mother and would give you no thanks. Consider, had it not been for good Kristion, we should still be rotting in prison because of this coward, Constantine.’

  They stopped whispering then, because Irene’s voice had begun once more.

  ‘Very well, my little one,’ she said, ‘perhaps I will forget your wickedness to me this once. Soon I will send the paper to you to sign. You shall declare that you have named me to act as your Regent, and a number of other small things … Including your solemn oath not to marry this Muslim wench. Now that I come to consider it, you shall also sign that she is to be put to death, without delay, for inciting you to break the settled peace of your great City. I will have that drawn up tomorrow. Do you promise to sign it?’

  Constantine flung himself face downwards in a spasm of relief. ‘Yes, dear mother,’ he almost shouted, ‘I will sign it a thousand times, if you will set me free.’

  Irene gazed upon him again and said, ‘There, you are overwrought, little one. Perhaps you are a good boy, after all! Wait patiently until tomorrow when I can get the scribe to make out such a paper, and then, when you have put your mark on it, you shall go free. Or at least, almost free, for I cannot have you wandering outside the Palace, getting into trouble again.’

  Harald turned from the window suddenly. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘it seems that we must act tonight, before that paper may become the law.’

  They ran down the lower staircase, and across the courtyard. From the Officers’ Mess, they saw the amber light streaming, and heard the sound of merry voices singing a camp song; Kristion’s voice was loud and clear, ringing high above all other voices. The three soldiers ran on and passed through the gateway and into the darkness, just as the sentry finished his circuit of the wall and came once more into view.

  As they went, keeping to the lonelier streets, Harald said, ‘So Constantine is a new enemy! The coward, so to sign away the life of one who loves him, however silly she may be in giving her heart to such a little monster!’

  Haro said grimly, ‘Perhaps we can get even with him, before our stay in this den of wild beasts is finished.’

  Then they came to the place where the avenue of cypresses met the white tower, and Harald suddenly stopped and drew his companions back into the shadow of a column. His eyes were wide open in surprise and bewilderment. ‘Look,’ he said hoarsely ‘we are forestalled!’

  The others followed the pointing finger and saw the glitter of breastplates and shields in the light which strayed from the many windows of the square.

  All along the narrow street, and across the archway which led to Marriba’s lodging, soldiers were posted, men of Irene’s own Company, there was no mistaking their helmet plumes and breastplate insignia …

  Haro struck himself hard upon the chest, a
s though angry with the part he had played. ‘If only we had got here more quickly …’ he groaned.

  But Harald shook his head, ‘Irene is making sure,’ he whispered. ‘She is not one to take chances, my friend. I have no doubt that these men have been stationed here all day long. We must not reproach ourselves. Now there is nothing we can do, except go back to the Palace. Perhaps tomorrow, we may think of something.’

  Haro said sharply, ‘It will be a bad thing for Marriba if we do not act more quickly than we have done tonight.’

  They turned then and walked quickly back along the street, keeping in the shadow of the high houses. Grummoch followed his comrades like an immense shadow, keeping watch that they were not attacked from behind.

  20. Unexpected Ally

  The day which followed passed on leaden wings. The two Vikings and giant Grummoch were unable to settle down to do anything as it should be done. First they were reprimanded for not making up their beds in the official manner; then they were reported by the head cook for not sweeping out the hall properly, after the morning meal; and before midday, they were threatened with twenty lashes for not burnishing their breastplates so that a man’s face could be seen in them clearly, as was the custom among the Imperial Guard.

  The sergeant who threatened them glared fiercely down as they sat cross-legged in the shadow of a bathhouse.

  ‘You Northmen,’ he stormed, ‘are fit for nothing but shovelling cattle fodder! Why I have to train such fools as you, I cannot tell; I must have committed some great sin in a former life and this is my punishment.’

  Giant Grummoch lazily took up a javelin and, holding it in his two hands, suddenly snapped the ash shaft with a quick movement. Then, just as lazily, he said in his shrill voice, ‘I am sorry the little spear broke, sergeant. I am used to stronger weapons.’

  Then he rose to his feet, as heavily as a laden ox, and turned towards the sergeant, his great hands outstretched. The man backed from him, his dark eyes starting in sudden fear.

  But Grummoch only smiled, the corners of his broad mouth turning up slightly, and said, ‘If you will give me another spear, sergeant, I will see that it does not happen again.’

  The sergeant mopped his brow with relief, and trying to regain some of his former composure, said, ‘Very well, Guardsman, you shall have another spear. But do not let that accident happen to the new one. You may dismiss!’

  Grummoch sat down again, smiling, and pretending to fit the two broken pieces together again.

  Haro grinned and said, ‘I have not seen a man so frightened for a long time.’

  Harald said, ‘You saw one last night, when his mother was threatening him with torture.’

  But Haro shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘that was not a man – just a small and treacherous beast.’

  It was at this moment that a Guard staggered in from the town where he had been on patrol in the big open market, keeping order among the swarming traders. His face was white and fearful. They saw the sweat glistening on his forehead, beneath the peak of his bronze helmet.

  ‘Have you any water, comrades?’ he said, suddenly slumping down beside them on the stone pavement. Grummoch flung his water-bottle to the man, who drank greedily.

  ‘What is the matter, friend?’ asked Harald.

  The man turned towards him, his mouth quivering. ‘Something is wrong,’ he said. ‘It is as though the scent of death hangs over the city today. Three times I have seen a man stop in the midst of his bargaining and fall to the ground, with the white froth on his lips. It is not good, my friend.’

  As he spoke, the bright sky seemed suddenly to cloud, with a heavy sulphurous lowering. The man wiped the sweat from his face and got up slowly.

  ‘It seems that you have a fever, comrade,’ said Grummoch. ‘You should report to your Captain.’

  The man nodded and staggered away, dragging his long javelin on the stones behind him.

  When he had gone, Harald said, ‘I do not like the look of that. No Guard I have ever seen trailed his javelin in that manner.’

  Grummoch said quietly, ‘I do not think that we shall ever go on parade with that one again, my friend. He had a strange look about the eyes which I have seen before – but never twice in the eyes of the same man.’

  They were about to speak more on this matter when the high snarling trumpet called out that they were to assemble for a surprise inspection in the great courtyard. Instantly men came running from all directions, buckling on their equipment as they ran. The three friends rose and joined their ranks.

  Then Irene appeared, strolling slowly through the high arched doorway of the Palace, her painted face set in a grim smile. The Guardsmen stood as straight and as motionless as though they had been carved from stone, though in the intense heat the strain was immense.

  Irene moved between the ranks with a painful slowness, as though she meant to test the endurance of her soldiers to the utmost. One young lad in the rear rank suddenly gave a groan and fell face downwards, his shield and spear clattering on to the paved courtyard beside him. His comrades on either side instantly leapt forward to raise him, but Irene’s voice cut harshly through the heavy air.

  ‘Let the dog lie,’ she said. ‘He must suffer for his weakness. My Guards must be men of iron or must die in their weakness.’

  She paused a moment and then said to Kristion, ‘Have those two who broke the ranks whipped before the sun goes down. Fifty lashes apiece. That should teach them to stand like soldiers when their Empress does them the honour of visiting them.’

  Kristion frowned, but could do nothing at that moment. He nodded to a sergeant who marched the two Guardsmen away to the barrack block.

  Then Irene was level with the three friends and they saw that she held a small roll of paper in her right hand, decorated with the Imperial seal. They had no doubt that this was the document which Constantine had signed, the death warrant of Marriba.

  Irene paused a little while in front of them, smiling as she surveyed them from head to toe. Grummoch felt his legs suddenly quivering, as though the muscles would stand this strain no longer than might make him run forward and strike this woman down.

  But she passed on then, and at last returned to the Palace.

  When she had gone, Kristion returned to his Company and said, ‘Guardsmen, you may dismiss; but hold yourselves in readiness should the Most High require your services before this day is out.’

  As the three friends were moving away, he called them and said, ‘You heard what the Most High said, about giving those Guardsmen fifty lashes apiece? Well, go and whip them.’

  Harald said, ‘Do you mean that, Captain?’

  Kristion turned a strangely humorous gaze upon the Viking and said, ‘I have given my order; but I did not say what you were to whip them with. Use your discretion, Guardsman.’

  So it was that the three Northmen surprised the prisoners greatly by tying them up gently and whipping them with a length of helmet ribbon, such as was worn on festive occasions, a thin silk braid. After which, they reported back to Kristion that the prisoners had been well whipped, with a few extra strokes for good measure.

  He smiled and said, ‘Good; now release them. They are two of my best soldiers – and no doubt, two of your best friends from this day on.’

  And so it turned out to be.

  Later that afternoon, a provisioner they all knew and trusted – an unusual situation as far as the city traders were concerned – trundled his empty fruit barrow into the courtyard, and spreading his hands in despair bewailed the loss of his goods.

  ‘My lords,’ he wailed, ‘my business is ruined! All my lovely fruits have been stolen! I was stopped in the street and robbed, I tell you!’

  A sergeant who was passing took the man by his arm and shook him, pretending to be angry.

  ‘You rogue,’ he said, ‘you know well enough that you have sold the fruit intended for us at twice the price to some unsuspecting trader from Khazaria!’

  The provisione
r shook his head violently and almost wept.

  ‘No, lord, no!’ he said vehemently. ‘A crowd of ruffians knocked me down – look, here is the bruise – and took my fruit! They said that now the plague has come to the city, it is every man’s right to take what he can, while there is anything to take.’

  At these words, the chattering groups of soldiers fell silent. The sergeant’s smile faded from his sunburnt face.

  ‘Are you sure that the plague has truly come, old friend?’ he asked.

  The tradesman beat his thin breast in anguish.

  ‘Sure!’ he echoed, ‘Sure? I should think I am sure! Has not my own brother’s mother-in-law passed away with it this very day? Is not my third cousin’s youngest child sickening with it this very minute?’

  The sergeant flung the man a handful of coins and turned to the assembled soldiers.

  ‘Make ready,’ he said abruptly. ‘You may be needed in the city at any time now, for riots will break out and shops be broken into when the news spreads.’

  Then he marched off to inform the Chamberlain of the grave occasion.

  The late afternoon sun had sunk and the first twilight was creeping over the white city, when Kristion strode into the courtyard. His face was set and his eyes narrow. He walked among the men, who stood waiting for any order which he might give, and carefully chose five Guardsmen, telling them to stand to one side. They were the three friends and the two who had been whipped with helmet ribbons that morning. The other Guardsmen stood staring at them, wondering what duty had so suddenly been assigned to them. At that moment, no one envied them, for suddenly the city had become a place of danger, of ill-omen, almost of terror.

  Then Kristion stood the five men to attention and addressed them, saying, ‘Men, you have been chosen to perform a task of some unpleasantness, but one which you must not shirk if you are loyal to the Most High, Irene, and to your Company. You will march as a squad to a house in the city, led by myself, and there you will do what you are commanded.’