by Henry Treece
Now it was her turn to frown; but at last she accepted his words with as good a grace as she could and went from the little palace in her secret litter.
And when he was sure that she had gone, Harald took Wulf and Haldor with him and went to the suburbs where there were three religious houses for noblewomen. He inquired for Maria Anastasia Argyra at them all and found that she was in the third. At first the lady-in-waiting at the gate would not let him enter, but he began to rave and beat about so much with his sword-scabbard that, afraid he would destroy the statues and ikons, she let him in. But Wulf and Haldor had to stay in the courtyard to keep guard.
When Harald saw Maria Anastasia now he was dumbstruck. In the time he had been foraging among the Saracens she had grown to be almost as beautiful as his betrothed, Elizabeth of Novgorod. And though she was shut away in this house, she was allowed to dress as well as any princess in the world.
When she saw Harald’s shyness, Maria said, ‘General, do not move from foot to foot like that. We are friends, are we not? I have prayed for you twice a day, ever since you sailed away from Byzantium. So I am your friend. But are you mine? You seem almost displeased with me.’
Harald said, ‘My lady, I am quite the reverse. But I am a little put out to think that I once used to carry you on my shoulders pretending to be a horse.’
Then Maria said most sincerely, ‘General, that was the happiest day of my life. On such a horse I would gallop away to the ends of the earth.’
Harald said then, ‘Lady, I am a paid soldier and have much to do before my oath has run out. But, I declare, if your life is not happy here and you wish to change it, then when I return from work that must be done in Sicily, I will come to you again and ask how you feel about the world. And if you still tell me that you wish to be away from Byzantium, then I shall not blame you, for it is not a city I would want to spend my life in. And when I go from here in my ship, I promise to take you with me to wherever lies on the way north. There are courts at Kiev and at Novgorod where a great lady like yourself would be treated with all courtesy. And there I will take you if you wish to go, or may my right hand let fall the great axe in my moment of need.’
Then, like a war horse, he knelt before her humbly in a way that the Empress Zoe had never known.
And when he had left that house, Maria Anastasia began to sing like a bird with joy. When the lady-in-waiting came in to
see what had happened, she found the princess lying on the stone floor with her cheek pressed to the spot where the Varanger had knelt.
The next day, just after dawn, Harald sent Wulf to the imperial palace with this message: ‘The General thanks your Serene Majesty for the great honour you have offered him. He has thought much about it and must now confess that he feels himself unworthy. God made him to live in tents and ships, not in palaces.’
When Wulf came back to the general’s house, he reported that the empress had bitten her lip with rage and had then smashed three ancient vases upon the tiled floor before ripping the hem off her robe in fury.
‘It is my advice, brother,’ he said to Harald, ‘that we get out of this city while we are able. I have never set eyes on a woman so demented.’
Harald smiled and nodded. ‘We shall sail for Sicily by this evening,’ he said. ‘Our work here is over for the time being.’
21. Ill Luck
Harald left the palace Varangers in the care of the new captain, Thorgrim Skalaglam, and told him to keep a sharp eye on the Bulgar regiment. Then he set off with forty galleys and provisions enough to last his army for half a year.
It was not the best season for sea-travel, and westerly gales often forced the fleet against the many islands they journeyed among. Three weeks out, two of the galleys foundered south of Lesbos, and a week later, another ran aground and broke its back on Paros.
In all, Harald lost a hundred men in those misfortunes. Eystein said to him, ‘I have begun to wonder whether there is some god or other down this way to whom we have not made the correct observances.’
Harald said gruffly, ‘We are Christians in this army, are we not?’
But Wulf came in then and said, ‘Aye, we may be Christians, brother, but that doesn’t mean to say that there are not other gods than ours. Eystein may well be right. The gods hereabouts may take it ill that we, who are mere visitors in their country, do not make offerings at the shrines.’
Harald sent them both away and sat down to ponder this. And in the end he decided that it would be well enough to make the offering of an occasional sheep or, say, a bronze bracelet - provided that, at the same time, one kept one’s right-hand forefingers crossed, or said a silent prayer to Saint Olaf.
Yet, though this became the practice aboard Stallion, when Wulf went ashore on Cythera, looking for a clear spring, an ill-natured adder bit his ankle and laid him in bed with a blue leg for a month.
A physician that they took on board at Taenarum, when Wulf’s ravings were at their worst, recommended that the sick man’s leg be cut off to stop the poison from spreading; but Haldor gave the man such a dark look that he thought of another remedy, which worked, though they were almost off Syracuse before Wulf could walk again without groaning.
But, bad as Wulf’s luck was, another had worse.
When Harald had been gone a week the lady Theodora came to the house where Maria Anastasia was and went into her private cell unannounced.
‘Now then, my lady,’ she said to the surprised girl, ‘your third cousin, Alexander Lascaris, has asked for your hand in marriage. He is a substantial man of forty-five and will give you a fine house and servants to keep it in order. He requires me to give him your answer this evening.’
Maria Anastasia said, ‘I do not wish to marry anyone, Aunt Theodora. At least, not for a while.’
Theodora paced up and down the room, making her heavy silk skirts swish. Then she turned sharply and said, ‘If the big Norseman asked you, would you marry him?’
Maria, who had been brought up to speak the truth always, said, ‘If he were to ask me, yes. But he is away in Sicily, and there is no likelihood of that happening.’
Theodora sat down heavily and fanned herself. Then she said, ‘Tell me, girl, if it is not too much to ask of you, why would you marry this grey-eyed Northman?’
Maria tried hard to picture him but could only see a great vague figure in a bearskin coat, with an iron helmet on his head and heavy plaits of hair hanging down on either side of it. She said, ‘Because he is a warrior and a hero, Aunt Theodora.’ Theodora was ever so long in answering now. Her eyes went narrow and she seemed to pinch her white nostrils in, then she said, ‘So, your cousin, Alexander Lascaris, is a coward, is he? The rich man who would give you a fine palace, three white horses, a gilded litter, and all the clothes and jewels you could load on to yourself - he is a coward, eh?’
Maria turned away. ‘I did not say that he was a coward, Aunt Theodora,’ she said. ‘I only told you that Harald the Norseman is a hero.’
Theodora rose and went towards the girl. ‘Tell me this,’ she said, ‘do you ever dream of this Norseman? Answer honestly or I shall know.’
Maria lowered her eyes. ‘Every night, Aunt Theodora,’ she said.
Theodora smiled almost kindly and placed her hand upon the girl’s shoulder. ‘And tell me,’ she said, ‘do you ever dream of other people?’
Maria shook her head. ‘No, aunt, truthfully, I do not.’ Then Theodora slapped her quite sharply on the cheek. The blow left a white mark in the shape of four fingers held close together. ‘So,’ she said, ‘you dream of this great bear from Norway but you never spare a thought for your good cousin, Alexander, who, to my knowledge, has sent you at least three crosses of silver and a rosary of amber.’
Maria began to weep. ‘Dreams are not things one can help, aunt,’ she said. ‘Besides, it is not because of gifts that one may fall in love with a man.’
Theodora said stiffly, ‘Now you are teaching me the nature of love; I, an old woman, and you, a
mere girl who had never been outside the palace until she came to this house. Is it some devilish pride that consumes you, girl? Or do you wish to see how far you can drive me to send me to the madhouse?’
These things were beyond Maria. She said, ‘Please, aunt, do not make me answer all these questions. I am willing for someone else to decide if I am right in wishing to marry only the man I am in love with. Let us ask the Patriarch, aunt.’ Theodora snorted. ‘The Patriarch!’ she said. ‘Why, that old sheep does not know his right hand from his left. Have you not seen him, in Hagia Sophia, groping round on the wrong side for the chalice? And you would ask him to decide your life, you foolish creature!’
Maria fell to her knees. ‘Then let us ask the emperor himself,’ she said in desperation.
Now Theodora started back as though an adder had struck at her. ‘The emperor,’ she repeated. ‘Michael Catalactus the Great! Can you, from your infinite store of wisdom, gained inside two rooms of the palace, inform me how long that Arab will survive, now that his general Maniakes and his captain the Norse rogue have gone away? Can you, O wise one, tell me whether this Michael Catalactus will even be seeing the dawn that breaks tomorrow, much less deciding on a foolish girl’s choice of a husband? Can you? Can you?’
Maria did not try to answer the old woman’s fierce questioning but turned and ran from the oppressive room. And when she had gone, Theodora turned to a Bulgar guard who stood close behind her and said, ‘Follow that silly girl and give word that she must be trained in obedience still further. Her lessons so far have not been strict enough. From now on she is to wear a hair-shift and is to eat one meal a day, of goat cheese and black bread. Water shall be her only drink, and not too much of that. As for employment, when she is not scrubbing the floors of the churches under guard, she is to be given a hammer and is to work in the quarry of Saint Angelus, where they are breaking up stones for the new Hippodrome stables. She will work there each day from dawn to mid-day with a chain about her right ankle like any other felon. And, remember to pass on this part of my command - if anyone is misguided enough to speak to this girl, then his or her tongue shall be clipped. That is all, now go.’
22. The Three Breakings
Break one thing in the morning and before the day is out you will have broken three. It is better to get the breakings over straightway, said the Varangers; so, when you find that you have broken the first thing, smash two other objects of no value - and then you are free of the curse.
A mile off the new Syracuse mole just after dawn, Harald reached out for a cup of voyage-ale that Gyric offered him, but let it fall in his weariness and the cup broke on the deck. Gyric shook his head and said, ‘Now, captain, let me see you break two more cups before we go in to haven. Otherwise we may end the day with a pair of worse disasters. I have no wish to see the prow snapped off and the mast down.’
Harald said, ‘What! Break two more of these cups? We are so much in need of cups as it is, we shall be drinking out of our cupped hands like dogs before long.’
Wulf, lying on his straw pallet, laughed and said, ‘When you next see a dog drinking out of his cupped hands, call to me and let me know. It is a sight I should remember all my life.’
Haldor said, ‘Their dogs in Norway have hands, didn’t you know, Wulf? They are not like our poor creatures up in Iceland who have to make do with paws.’
Eystein was alongside in War Hawk and wondered what the laughter was about. Haldor shouted across to him, ‘Hey, Baardson, what are the dogs like in Orkney? Do they have hands, can you remember?’
Eystein called back, ‘Aye, Snorreson, and feet. And when they grow to be seven foot tall, we trim their tails and send them off voyaging to Trondheim. Most of them get to be kings among the Norwegians. They are very quick-witted, our Orkney hounds.’ Wulf said, ‘That is more than can be said for their masters, then.’
So they went on joking and laughing stupidly until they forgot what started it all. Nevertheless, there were two more things to be broken that day.
Now the eastern shore of Sicily was in their view. Away to the right hand they saw the grim and towering fire-mountain with snow lying on its upper slopes. Before them they saw a dozen rivers, like silver threads, rushing down the burnt rocks towards the sea.
Here and there sulphurous yellow smoke rose from low hutments among the stones, and beyond them, up the further ridges, ranks of dark-foliaged pines stood like waiting sentries, glowering down. The land had a grim and forbidding face, as though it warned all travellers to stay away from its shores.
Haldor said, ‘Sheep would get few pickings here. I can see but small grazing land, and that is as burnt as tinder.’
Harald answered him: ‘We have not sailed so far to raise sheep, brother. Sheep will be the last thing in my mind when I come within a sword’s reach of Maniakes.’
Haldor replied, ‘In Iceland even the greatest warmen spare a thought for their sheep and their hay harvest.’
Harald said, ‘Aye, and they like to go out fishing in the sea, too. But I never heard that these things filled their heads when they were out searching for an enemy. I never heard that when Kari was sniffing out the men who burned old Njal he spoke overmuch about sheep and hay and fish. The way I heard it, Kari was more concerned about that sword-blade of his, that got softened in the fire at the barn that night.’
Wulf said, ‘Kari was a man in a thousand. After God made him, He broke the mould.’
Then they had to stop their talking for the water between the two forks of the harbour-moles jolted them about as though they sailed on top of a boiling cauldron. It took Harald and Eystein in their two longships all their strength to keep the steerboards straight and the vessels from turning turtle.
And just when they were running through the gap, with the rest of the fleet strung out well behind them, Eystein shouted across, * What is that big thing I can see lying behind the crowded smacks in the middle of the harbour-shell? Is it a house on legs?’
Harald was too busy at that time to look where Eystein was pointing, but suddenly as they came safely through the gap, missing the nearside grey wall by less than a cable-length, there was a great whirring in the air and a stone came in a wide arc towards them, humming like a nest of giant hornets. Harald swung hard on the steerboard, but Stallion lay in a water-race that would not let the longship move a point from course. The heavy rock struck the masthead and brought half of the ash-pole down, crashing over the side and tangling the deck with sail and rigging.
Harald said, ‘I do not need to answer you now, Baardson. That house on legs is a catapult, as you can see.’
Then the two longships did their best to swing about and go back between the moles and into the open wafer to safety. But Stallion would not answer to the board, though the Varangers had chopped away rigging and sail now, but lay wallowing in the water like a lame thing.
Eystein had got War Hawk half-way about and was shouting at the rowers to bend on their oars when a second rock came groaning through the air and stove in the strakes just below the shields on his steerboard side. The rowers on that side were flung on top of one another in a heap, though not a man was hurt.
Harald said starkly, ‘Well, there are the two breakages that Gyric warned us to expect. It is a good thing to know the worst, brothers.’
Haldor said, ‘While you were wrestling with the helm, they have put two stout chains across the gap. We can’t get out, and the rest of the fleet can’t get in to help us. So perhaps we haven’t seen the worst yet.’
Harald gave up struggling and sat down on the deck to hone his sword-blade. He said, ‘What can’t be cured must be endured. We have run like flies into the middle of the spider’s web, but we can still sting him a little before he makes a meal of us, brothers.’
As he spoke two long galleys, black-painted and low in the water, streaked out at them one on either flank, like sea-snakes. They bristled with lances and on the forward deck of each was positioned a small fire-thrower, strung back in readin
ess for the cast. The men in these black sea-snakes wore white turbans and cloaks over their iron gear. Harald said, ‘Well, at least it is not the Greek who has caught us so neatly. We have that to be thankful for.’
Gyric said, ‘When we are burned down to the water line and standing in the sea, remind me to be thankful again, Harald. I can already feel ingratitude creeping over me.’
Harald laughed and said, ‘You worry too much, Mercian. This sort of thing is happening all the time, up and down the world.’
Gyric answered, ‘I know that, friend; but somehow I always feel happier when it is happening to someone else.’
Just then the foremost sea-snake, which lay less than a long bowshot from Stallion, drew up a little and a blue-robed man in the prow called across to them, ‘Are you Greeks or Normans?’ Harald put the leather trumpet to his lips and answered, ‘Neither. We are Varangers out of Byzantium, looking for Maniakes. This is a private affair and is the business only of Harald Sigurdson and his henchmen.’
The man in the blue robe called back, ‘Stand well forward so that I can see if you are Harald Sigurdson.’
This Harald did, holding himself up very straight and letting his great cloak billow out behind him to give him his full size.
And after a while the man in the blue robe said, ‘I can see who you are now. I am the Emir of Syracuse and no friend of Maniakes. What do you wish to do - be burned out of the sea, or come ashore as friends to the city?’
Harald shouted back, ‘What sort of answer do you usually get to that question?’
Then the man in blue laughed down his speaking-horn and said, ‘Very well, Sigurdson, we will tow you into haven as friends. After sundown, when we are sure of your good intentions, I will have the chains taken down and the rest of your fleet can come in behind you.’