Swords From the North

by Henry Treece

  The man nodded to humour him but Harald shook his head a little and said, ‘Do not treat me like a fool, Helge. It is my body that is hurt, not my brain. Now tell me this, is Gyric dead?’

  Helge nodded his head. ‘Yes, master,’ he said. ‘They were afraid to tell you before.’

  Harald said slowly, ‘I have been waiting for them to tell me, Helge. They should not be so tender-minded. Gyric is well-pleased where he is. He has come to me three times in a dream to tell me so. He has told me other things, too; that Haldor will be well again one day, but that I shall never be the king in England.’

  Helge smiled and said, ‘I dreamed once that I was flying like a bird, but when I got up from bed and tried to do it again I fell into the fiord and had to be dragged out with a boathook. Dreams do not always speak the truth.’

  Harald said, ‘So you cannot fly, eh? I should have thought that a brisk young fellow like you could fly, Helge. Yes, I should have thought that.’

  Helge looked sharply at the Varanger, but Harald was asleep now in that rocking longship, and for the first time since Licata there was peace upon his face.

  31. The Dress-fitting

  Maria Anastasia Argyra stood in the imperial chamber while six sewing-women bustled round her with rolls of silk net, cloth of gold, and brocade so heavy and encrusted that it stood out as stiffly as a board - and was just as tedious to wear.

  With her face so pale, her hair combed down to her shoulders so straight, and her enormous skirt flaring out from under her arms to the mosaic floor, Maria looked more like a doll than a girl.

  The Empress Zoe lay back on a Turkish couch, watching everything and holding a small fan of green peacock feathers in her jewelled hand. From time to time she moved this fan slowly, sending waves of incense wafting across the dim room, like a child idly playing.

  ‘Keep still, child,’ she said sharply to Maria. ‘The woman maybe a clumsy animal for sticking a pin in you, but a princess of the Macedonian royal house should be above noticing such trivialities.’

  Maria had been standing in the stuffy room all afternoon and, with such a weight of clothing upon her, she felt ready to drop.

  The empress said thoughtfully, ‘We will have you made a tall diadem of silver set with pearls for that dress. Pearls will look well with the black brocade. There shall be a high collar of seed-pearls to go with it. We must cover your neck, it has grown so skinny recently. Your arms too; we will put bracelets along them and then the caliph will not notice how like a skeleton you are. And please stand still when I speak to you, girl. Do you think I enjoy spending all this money on a skeleton that will totter and sway on its feet at every word? Now look up a little. Yes, your face is far too thin. We will have a pretty red spot on each cheek, and your eye-lashes picked out in black, and some blue for your lids. At least that will give a little colour to your miserable features. I would hate the caliph to set eyes on you as you are now. He would wonder what sort of joke we were playing on him, sending him such a scarecrow.’

  A little later the empress said, ‘I do not know what Theodora was thinking of, putting you into the quarry. It has quite ruined your hands. You look more like a street-beggar than a noblewoman now. She could have had you whipped, couldn’t she? That would have been more appropriate, wouldn’t it? Well, am I to ask questions for ever, without getting an answer, girl? Don’t you think whipping would have been more in keeping with your station, hey, child? It could have been done by one of our elevated officials. It need not have been done by the common executioner in the Hippodrome. Do you agree or don’t you, Maria? Speak up now.’

  All at once Maria Anastasia fell to her knees and put her hands over her face. ‘Oh, Aunt Zoe,’ she sobbed, ‘I am so unhappy.’

  The empress waved her green fan at the sewing-women and sent them scuttling from the room. Then, half in mockery, half in genuine tenderness, she said, ‘Poor little scarecrow. Not much of our ancient Greek pride runs in your blood, does it, my dear? No one would think you were of the kin of Alexander the Great, would they, little one?’

  Then her voice hardened and she said, ‘Very well, get up now and stop creasing that new brocade with your pathetic rolling about on the floor. At least try to behave yourself with dignity and suffer in silence as we all must learn to do.’

  Maria stood up slowly and said, ‘You do not suffer, aunt; you only make others suffer.’

  The empress glowered at her for a moment, then she shrugged her heavy shoulders and said bitterly, ‘What do you know about suffering, you poor wretch? Just because we have sent your famous Northman away, you think you are suffering. Well, you must get used to the idea, Maria, because you will never see Harald Sigurdson again. He will not come back from

  Sicily alive, I think; but even if he does, you will be in another part of the world. No, do not begin that weeping all over again, I cannot bear it. Your face is ugly enough at its best, but with runnels of water down it, it is disgusting.’

  Suddenly Maria stopped crying and said quite fiercely, ‘Very well, Aunt Zoe, if you lack Christian charity towards me, I will appeal to the emperor. I will put my case before him and see if there is any justice left in Byzantium.’

  Then the empress got slowly off the couch and came towards the girl with a smile of malice on her powdered fleshy face. When she was an arm’s length from Maria, she said, ‘You will appeal to Michael Catalactus, will you, child? And how far will such an appeal take you, do you think? Poor Michael is not long for this world, if you ask me, scarecrow. Have you noticed how thin he has got? How dark and staring his eyes are? How his hands shake when he holds the chalice in Hagia Sophia? No, of course you have not, because you are a fool whose head is filled with nonsense and whose eyes are blind to reality.’

  She turned away from the frightened girl, then suddenly swung round again and said viciously, ‘Why do you think he is so anxious to build his precious shrine in Jerusalem? I will tell you; it is because he knows that before long he must give an account to God of his stewardship of Christendom. He must have done one good thing, to balance all the evil things he has done and to avoid everlasting perdition. Can you hope for anything from such a poor tormented kingling, hey? Michael Catalactus is half out of his mind if a bird cries by his window in the darkness. Will you get any consideration from a sick fool whose head is stuffed with the terror of his own approaching doom? Go on, Maria Anastasia Argyra, you have my leave to approach tie emperor for an audience. Ask of him what you please. But let me tell you this, the moment you have asked he will come to me, snuffling and shivering with agues, to find out my opinion on the matter. Well, what are you standing there for? Go and find the Most Serene Majesty.’

  Then Maria fell at her aunt’s feet and clasped her robe. ‘Oh, empress,’ she said, ‘forgive me. But at least do not send me to the caliph, I beg you. Let me stay here, even in the quarry.’ Zoe shook her green fan and said smiling, ‘You will not be advised, will you! You are willing to work on among slaves and gaol-birds just on the chance that the stupid great bear of a Norwegian comes back, aren’t you! Well, let me tell you again, quite simply, that in this imperfect life we all must accept the realities about us, because the dreams exist only in our heads and are not real, however much we would like them to be so. The reality which you must accept is that you are soon to travel to Egypt and there help to seal the pact between our Holy Empire and the caliph. Nothing can change this, so you may as well get used to it without delay. As for your dream of Harald Sigurdson, if you are wise you will forget it from this moment, because whoever else you may meet in this world as your life goes on, you will never again see that Norseman.’

  Then the empress went back to her couch and rang a small silver bell that stood beside it. The six sewing-women ran into the chamber, their mouths full of pins, and went on with the dress-fitting as though nothing had interrupted them.

  32. Olaf’s Counsel

  Harald’s fleet came to harbour in Crete in the midst of of rain. Three longships had been lo
st on the voyage from Sicily and those that limped into port at ancient Cydonia rolled and wallowed as though they were ready for the sea-bottom themselves.

  But, of all miracles, Harald Hardrada stood at Stallion’s prow to bring that ship to its moorings and when the plank was down he was first ashore, although he leaned heavily on a crutch and had to stop many times before his feet were on dry land.

  Then, without waiting for his henchmen, he spoke to the harbour-master who greeted him and said, T have come for Maniakes. Direct me to him.’

  The official shook at the knees and began to stammer, seeing the gaunt figure of Hardrada towering above him, and seeing what manner of ghastly henchmen stood behind their captain. They were more like men from the grave than living sailors; and of them all Haldor was the most frightful to look on. The northern craftsmen who carved the dragons’ heads for ship-prows had never in their wildest imaginings dreamed of such stark features.

  Eystein said roughly, ‘You heard the captain, man, answer him. Where is Maniakes?’

  Then the harbour-master cried out in foreboding, ‘He is not here, my lords. He was summoned by Byzantium almost a month ago, to answer to the emperor for something he had done, or not done. I do not know anything, my lords. I am not to blame.’

  Harald reached out and took the man by the beard and then drew him down to his knees. The Norseman’s eyes gleamed red, as though he meant to put an end to the harbour-master there and then, on the wharfside of his own haven.

  The man cried out, ‘My lord, my lord, all the world says that you are a just man, though a harsh one. I am only a port official. I have nothing to do with the vengeances of generals. Look, my lord, this Maniakes has been punished already. We have heard that all his titles and wealth have been taken from him and that the emperor has banished him to some place of barbarians beyond the Danube. He is a broken man now, my lord. I pray you, do not punish me for something which is not my affair.’

  Then Harald said, ‘A broken man, eh? Among the barbarians, eh? Well, it is a sort of vengeance, though it is not as sweet as the revenge a man takes with his own two hands.’

  He loosed the harbour-master’s beard and let the poor wretch fall to the stones of the wharfside. Then he thought for a while and afterwards said, ‘Harbour-master, something you said has interested me. The world calls me a just man, though a harsh one, does it?’

  The official put his hands together as though praying, but Harald smiled and said, ‘Nay, do not be afraid, I have this crutch for walking on, not for any other purpose. Speak your mind, speak your mind.’

  So the man said, ‘My lord, I spoke in terror. The world calls you a just man and a gentle one. That is what I meant to say.’ Then Harald turned away from him and said to Wulf, ‘The fellow is a craven coward. If he had been man enough to repeat what he said at first, I would have given him a bag of gold as big as his fat head. But now we will use this place as our own. We will use it as our forefathers used Aachen and what we do not use we will burn. I have no patience with cowards.’

  But before Harald could hobble to his litter, a good-looking young man in the armour of the Byzantine Guard pushed through the frightened crowd and, taking off his helmet, bowed to the viking and said with all deference, ‘My lord, I am an equerry to the emperor. May I deliver his message to you without fear of your wrath?’

  Harald looked the young man up and down for a time, then said, ‘From the brisk look of you, you will deliver it, wrath or not. How many battles have you been in?’

  The young man said gravely, ‘I do not keep a tally, my lord. But I think it is twelve or so.’

  Then Harald said, ‘Were any of them against Bulgarians?’ The young man said with a smile, ‘Most of them, sir.’

  ‘Then,’ said Harald, ‘you have a right to speak among men. Give me Michael’s message.’

  So the young soldier told Harald that he had been waiting on Crete for his arrival for over a month, and that the emperor commanded the Varangers to proceed to Jerusalem, and there to guard the Greek workmen who were soon to rebuild the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

  And when Harald had heard this command, he said to the young man, ‘Is this a plot to keep me away from Byzantium, do you think, soldier?’

  The youth said, shrugging his shoulders, ‘Who am I to think of politics, my lord? I am a simple soldier.’

  Then Harald said shrewdly, ‘Tell me, simple soldier, how are things in Byzantium? Has this emperor a good strong Greek army about him nowadays?’

  The soldier smiled up at him slyly and said, ‘Sir, I did not speak very plainly before, I am afraid. I am suffering from toothache brought on by standing at the harbourside, waiting for your ships to come over the horizon. So, I will repeat, I know nothing of politics. They are for great men and I am a simple soldier.’

  Then Harald said, ‘You are certainly no spy, I can tell that. Very well, simple soldier, how would you like to come aboard my ship and fight for me?’

  The young man bowed his head and said, ‘If my oath of fealty were not already given to the emperor, nothing would please me better, my lord.’

  Then Harald said, ‘That was well answered, simple soldier. I would not try to entice any other man’s watchdog. May good luck always go with you, my friend, and one day may it bring you a general’s staff of command. But one word of advice - do not loiter about at harboursides in future. Toothache is the worst thing for a soldier to suffer, it takes his mind off his job.’

  The young man said, ‘I shall remember your advice, sir. And I thank you for it.’

  And when he had gone, Eystein said to Harald, ‘So, when we have rested and revictualled, we go to Jerusalem, hey?’

  But Harald clenched his teeth grimly and answered, ‘No, brother. Jerusalem may rot for all I care now. When we have rested we shall take the sea-road north towards Byzantium and burn that evil place to the ground. If I cannot take my vengeance on Maniakes, then I will get it on those who first set that mad dog on me.’

  And when he had said this, Harald seemed to grow older and to sink into the deepest gloom that any man could recall.

  From this time, throughout the winter, Harald fell into such strange moods that the men declared he had sold his soul to the devil in return for the healing of his wound. Certainly the fever left him and his flesh knit well, leaving him little to show for Hauteville’s blows but furrowed white scars; but his temper became so uncertain, and his sudden changes from laughter to roaring so frequent, that all but his oldest friends avoided him when they could.

  For some reason he lost no chance to say harsh things to Eystein and Wulf, especially when the Varangers were present and listening; though he was as gentle as a mother to Haldor and Helge, and would let them speak words to him which no other man would have dreamed of.

  One evening Wulf said to Eystein, ‘He is not the man we sailed with. How long we can bear his strange ways I do not know. If it weren’t for Haldor I would leave now and smell my way back to Iceland. But when we started out to see the world, I promised Haldor’s mother that I would never leave his side while there was life in me.’

  Eystein answered, ‘It is part of Harald’s sickness, brother. The flesh has healed but there is a great wound in his spirit yet. But come fair, come foul, we have taken the oath to serve him and that we must do, though he should sprout horns in the night. Let us say no more.’

  They had scarcely finished speaking when Helge came and said, ‘He wants to see you both. Do not blame me for his tantrums, brothers, but I know better than to tell the Bear he is a fool when he strokes me with sheathed claws.’

  So they saw how it was and went with Helge. Harald smiled at them this time and said, ‘I have been thinking; here we are, after months of hardship, revengeless and unpaid. This is not Greek justice, my friends. I mean to see that all the Varangers get their back-pay. First we will sack the treasury here and then we will put a tax on all the folk of Cydonia, men, women and children. They shall pay for drawing breath in this city. The ol
dest shall pay the least because they have the shortest time left to breathe. But the babies shall pay the most, for the opposite reason. And the girl-babies shall pay more than the men-babies, for it is well known that women outlive men for the most part.’

  Wulf said outright, ‘Harald, this is madness. Sack the treasury if you will, but this tax on breathing God’s air is the sort of thing that will make you seem a lunatic in the eyes of the world.’ He had said it before Eystein could stop him. Now the words were out, flying free, and Harald snorted so deeply that he seemed about to choke.

  Then, with a deathly face and a whistling voice, Harald said, ‘Who is this man who thwarts me? Tell me his name, the name of this man?’

  Eystein tried to calm him, but always Harald kept saying, ‘Tell me his name, the name of this man.’ Until at last Wulf jumped up and said, ‘You know my name well enough, Sigurdson. We have been side by side for years now, and if you do not know me then you are indeed the biggest fool in Christendom.’ Helge came close to Harald to catch him if he tried to wrestle with Wulf; but suddenly the Bear of Norway shuddered as though they had thrown ice-cold water over his head and said more quietly, ‘Very well, brothers, the matter is settled then. Bring me all the coin that lies in the treasury, and keep all the gold and silver-ware for the men’s back-pay. We will forget the breath-tax for the time being. I did not like the idea myself when Eystein suggested it to me.’

  So the treasury was sacked, and Harald commandeered one of the longships to take his great share northwards to Kiev and put it in the care of King Jaroslav, to whose daughter Harald was betrothed.

  A month after this Harald sacked the treasury of Tarrha and took yet another ship to transport his own raven’s pickings northwards. Then he burned down three villages between Phaestus and Mount Ida because the peasants refused to pay a new hoof-tax on cattle and sheep that he had thought of.