Travel Light

Home > Other > Travel Light > Page 8
Travel Light Page 8

by Naomi Mitchison


  The Purple-born muttered something, they could not catch what. But Father John, from behind, told them that they might kneel upright. It seemed that the Purple-born had asked about the woman, and it was explained that the woman was their voice and also that she was gifted in other ways. It was to be observed that she was never to be seen without the cloak fold, and this had all the appearance of being a Relic. The Purple-born showed himself interested and said that, if this was so, the cloak should be taken from her and given to one of the churches. Doubtless this was intended. The cloak might indeed go into Father John’s keeping. Father John bowed deeply. “Later,” said Lord Alexius, “later, it shall certainly be done.” None of them, of course, spoke, but Halla clutched on to her cloak and wondered what All-Father would say to this.

  “Now let us hear what they have to say,” said the Purple-born. “Tell them to speak.”

  The Lord Alexius signaled to Roddin, who began his speech, remembering at first all the titles which Father John had warned him he must use. He backed what he had to say with texts, from the New Testament mostly. The other two kept their eyes down. Kiot was praying. He felt that this was the way he could help best. Halla calmly watching, saw that, while Roddin was quoting passionately from this thing which was altogether part of his life and the reason for his actions, the Purple-born was unmoved, and once yawned slightly, while the Lord Alexius had a little thin smile sneaking about his face. Father John turned up his eyes and went through the gestures of religious observance which now she thought she knew. The secretary noted the texts but did not trouble to write down the words.

  Questions were addressed through the Lord Alexius. Who exactly were this deputation and what did they represent? Roddin, not having his answers by heart, stammered a little over words. Halla became his mouthpiece. How long had Marob been part of the Holy Roman Empire? And in what circumstances? They told him, and Kiot spoke of his grandfather, the martyr, and Halla put it into Greek. As he told about Niar and how he had let himself be killed because of his belief, because he felt himself to be on the side of goodness and mercy and justice, so Halla became aware of what all this was about and why these men prayed and why she felt love for them all and liked to help them and to understand their language.

  The questions went on. The Purple-born crossed one boot over the other and laid his finger-tips together. Sometimes he spoke in a low voice to the Lord Alexius. Twice they heard the name Iron Gate, once followed by the Lord Alexius spreading his hands and giving a sharp snickering laugh and the Purple-born raising his eyebrows and then speaking over his shoulder to the secretary.

  Another question and details of what cruelty and injustice had been done by the Governor. All three spoke in answer, Halla looking from one to the other, taking the words quickly and making them into Greek. Roddin had tears in his eyes, speaking of certain things that had been done. Even the Purple-born seemed slightly disturbed. Then the Lord Alexius said: “And I have a statement from a merchant whose ship put in at this place after these men left. It tells of further tyrannies.” He unrolled his parchment, and the three men, suddenly realizing that this was news from home, stayed very quiet, listening.

  It became a catalogue of unjust accusations, fines, imprisonments, abductions, torture and murder. Occasionally there was a name, a Marob name, turned into Greek. But almost at once the men knew who it must be. Halla could see them stiffen and wince. Kiot’s hands were locked together in a tenseness of supplication. Once Tarkan Der’s right arm lifted in the first movement of a man reaching for his sword. It went on to say that the Governor had found out that certain men of Marob had left for Byzantium, and such was his spite and cruelty that he had taken the betrothed of one of them, a girl called Sweetfeather. And certain things had been done to her. Until she died. Now Roddin had Tarkan Der by the shoulders, was holding him. And Halla felt as she had done when Uggi came trailing back to his cave with the death wound on him, felt the terrible need to take another’s pain, and no way to do it. And Tarkan Der put his hands on to the pit of his stomach and gave a horrible low choking cry as though he had got a deep wound there, and the blood left his face.

  It seemed to be a very long time after that, but yet it was only minutes, when the Purple-born got up from his chair and spoke to them for the first time directly: “Out of my sacred Clemency and Imperial Justice I pronounce that your Governor is dismissed and will receive punishment. The choice of his successor is in the hands of my well-trusted friend, the Lord Alexius Argyris. So you may rest assured, my children, that all will be well and that our power reaches to the ends of the Christian world!”

  “Down!” whispered Father John. “Down!” And they bowed their foreheads to the carpet until the Purple-born was away. Then the Lord Alexius was speaking to Roddin about the new Governor. Halla stood by them as interpreter, since Roddin also was shaken. If this had been done to Sweetfeather—and it was making him sick to think of it—what might not have been done since then to his own children and wife. He said that he hoped they might all be allowed to go home at once.

  “Certainly you can go,” said the Lord Alexius, “in the boat which takes the new Governor and under his favour and protection. We have been not unaware that your gratitude for the help received here has taken the form of gifts to the poor. This was very suitable, yes, very suitable indeed. But on the matter of the races,” he added, “I must question the young woman. And as the Purple-born himself desired it, her cloak, which is doubtless an important Relic—and she will have to explain how she came by it and to which saint she owes it—should remain here in the capital of the world. Where it will be safe.”

  Roddin raised his head to answer and clearly there was anger on him. But Halla caught at his hand, whispering: “Say nothing—leave it to me.” So she gave a meek look and said that she would be at His Lordship’s service, but she must first go back with the others and help them to settle with their landlord and perhaps to see whether it might not be possible to contribute still further to the charities of the great city. After that she would tell him everything that he wished to know.

  So he agreed and said, too, that Father John should bring them round the merchant’s deposition in case there was anything in it which they had not properly understood. Then he sent for the large litter to take them all back. They got into it and it started. It was the same heat and jostling and sounds from without that there had been coming. But all was different. And now Tarkan Der, who had not yet wept, began to shake all over and deep long sobs came out of him, and his body moved jerkily like a half-killed animal. Halla moved over and sat by him and took his head on to her knee to ease his weeping.

  Part Three

  Chapter One

  Away

  They were back in the small room. The shoemaker, who had thought them decent and quiet folk, and had been disturbed when none of them came back after the guards took them, asked what had happened. They told him that their mission had been successful, that the Emperor had seen them, but there had been bad news from home. The shoemaker, glancing from one to the other, saw that this had indeed been so. “And the Emperor received you himself!” he said. “That was a wonder! You’ll have something there to remember all your lives.” “We shall,” said Roddin, but in a voice that troubled the shoemaker so much that in a little he sent his wife up with sweet wine and almonds and his respectful compliments. She wanted just desperately to ask them all about the palace and the Emperor’s robes, but with them looking the way they were, she hadn’t the heart.

  Then Father John came to tell them that, if they cared to take the chance, they might get home even before the new Governor. There was a ship bound for Olbia which would put in at Marob if they wanted to go straight away, and it seemed to them that he would be glad to get rid of them, even as they themselves wanted to get away, from him and from Byzantium. But this ship was to sail with the morning tide next day, so they would have to get ready at once. Should they have affairs to settle, for example any small thank-offerin
g they might care to make, he would see to it for them.

  “Yes,” said Roddin. “Yes. We will go.”

  “And she stays.” Father John looked at Halla in a way which she found it difficult to make sense of, but she knew he was planning somehow to make it a certainty. To keep her here—for ever.

  “Yes!” she said quickly. “I stay!” And she signed with her hand behind her to the others.

  Roddin said: “When is the Governor recalled?”

  “One of the Imperial despatch boats will start on the same tide as yourselves, but going fast. He will be gone before you get there.”

  “Thank God for that. And the new one—he is a friend of the Lord Alexius Argyris?”

  “And a true Christian,” said Father John.

  “A true Christian—then he is a poor man?”

  “No, no,” said Father John. “On the contrary, he is very rich. He will not need to make you pay heavy taxes.” He smiled at them, even perhaps wishing them well, having a kindliness towards them in his heart, now that they had helped in his own schemes. “And he will know,” said Father John, “that the Lord Alexius is your patron, so that he will certainly help you take revenge on your enemies.”

  “But the old Governor will be gone.”

  “You will certainly discover,” said Father John, with the foxy, biting look on him, “that there were some of your own people as well as the late Governor who—were involved.”

  Tarkan Der looked up for the first time. “True enough,” he said. There had been a man in the old days who had wanted Sweetfeather, but she—she. He found he could not think of her yet for more than a moment without this terrible sick feeling coming over him again.

  Roddin said quickly: “You will tell the captain of this ship that we are coming. And when you return you shall help us about our affairs.” Father John bowed himself out, and he gave a long sideways look at Halla, sitting on a stool in her new dress, with her hands in her lap.

  Kiot said: “So this rich Christian Governor who is the creature of the Lord Alexius will help us to avenge ourselves. And later on, when there is a swing-over of power here, or when this Emperor is poisoned and another comes in his place, a new Christian Governor will come from Iron Gate and avenge others on ourselves, and so in the name of God and his Holy Roman Empire it will go on, world without end. It is as well that my grandfather cannot know what he died to give us.” And now Kiot was more bitter than the other two because he had believed longest that after all Byzantium was somehow the true dwelling-place of the doctrines of the Lord and of His regent on earth.

  Roddin said: “I am all shaken in my mind. Perhaps we should try to stop the new Governor from coming. Tarkan Der, child of the Corn Kings, will you lead the people of Marob?”

  Tarkan Der looked up and shook his head. “No. Not now. I will never go back. And if I did they would send an army against us. They could pay for an army and not risk one single life of their own.”

  “Will you not ever come back?” said Roddin, very pitifully.

  “No,” said Tarkan Der, “I cannot bear to look on Marob, even. And besides that, I am very full of hate and perhaps I could not forgive my enemies. I could be led into temptation. I cannot get at the beginnings of forgiveness even. So I will go where that Varangian told me there was another place, to Holmgard in the north. It is a better city than this. Or so he said.”

  “What could you do there?”

  “If it came to that I could be a fighter, a guard to the king there. Those I might kill that way would not be my enemies; I would have no temptation. They would only be the enemies of some king. It would not matter to me nor yet to God. But I will not go back to Marob.”

  “Maybe I too—” said Roddin.

  “You are older than me. You can face whatever is to be faced. They need you. But they would be better without me. I might do harm to Marob. I feel it in myself. I will go with you in the ship, but when we come to Marob I will sail on with her, to Olbia and beyond. I will go along from now on.”

  “Perhaps I will go to Holmgard,” said Halla.

  Suddenly they were all thinking of her. “Oh, Halla Godsgift, our Halla,” said Kiot, “what will you do?”

  “I think some way I will be on the boat,” said Halla.

  “How will you escape?” Roddin asked anxiously. “For we cannot leave you here. In this Godless place. We love you.”

  “I am not staying,” said Halla, “but I do not know how.”

  “Go now!” said Tarkan Der.

  “Father John would certainly not let you on to the ship if I did that. He has got to think he is sure of me. We must say good-bye. But I tell you I will come.”

  So they left it for the time to Halla and to the God who had given her to them. They packed their bundles and they agreed to give a certain amount of what they had left to Father John, who came that evening and took them down to the docks. Here Halla said good-bye to them and they were terribly unsure if they would truly see her again in this life. Sweetfeather too had been in God’s hand, but God had not had it in His will to save her, and who could know what was in His will for Halla? Roddin and Kiot kissed her, and then suddenly Tarkan Der kissed her and it was a fierce, long kiss, and he had a dazed look on him afterwards. But Halla went back with Father John and he was speaking to her about the races. He was telling her of the great good that might be done, say, to a nunnery, by this gift of prediction, and perhaps she should become a nun and give not only her cloak but all her other gifts to God. Indeed, if she did not do that, it might appear that her prediction was from Satan, and that would indeed be a serious thing for her.

  She had heard of nunneries and the power that some of them had and the golden vessels in their chapels, but she did not know what was the occasion of them. So she asked Father John and listened carefully, so that he thought he must be prevailing on her to take his advice. And from time to time he got the talk round to her cloak and where did it come from, but she always let this go by; and then again he would speak of her business with the horses, and how, for the greater glory of God and in order to help her friends who had gone back to their home, she should tell the Lord Alexius Argyris the way some great race was to go. And she was thinking to herself that if she angered the Lord Alexius it might do harm to the men of Marob when they got home, and she must tread carefully.

  Father John then said to her that it would be better for the sake of her good name if she were to stay from now on in a nunnery, and she agreed gently, and went with him, turning over in her mind how she could possibly talk to any of the horses in front of the Lord Alexius. It was certain that they would not like him, nor trust her if she was with him. There was no knowing how Day-Star or the others would act. Well, she would see when the time came.

  Father John took her and her small bundle to the nunnery. The men had wanted her to keep some of their money, but she would only take a very little. Travel light, she said to herself. She was put in charge of an elderly, tall woman, dressed all in black with a white veil, who spoke earnestly with Father John and in the end knelt for his blessing. This displeased Halla because she thought that the woman looked good. Then Father John was taken to the gate and the key turned behind him and then put back on to the girdle of the tall woman, who spoke to her kindly. Now it was late evening and still Halla could think of no way to get to the ship.

  The nunnery seemed to be made up of a hall, a chapel and many smaller rooms round a courtyard; in one of these Halla left her bundle. There was supper and than all went to the chapel and prayed, taking Halla with them. And then it was night. Halla stayed awake and after everything was quiet she got up and began to go about the place cautiously. If she could find a rat or even a mouse she might yet find a way out. She felt her way in the dark into the kitchen, but there was no scuffling of little paws and all was clean and quiet. The walls were too smooth and too high to climb and every gate was locked and barred. When it was near dawn she went back to her cell and thought of the ship sailing on the morni
ng tide and the three men waiting for her. And she wanted above everything to tear down these walls that kept her from them. But such bearishness did no good. And maybe, she thought, good-bye is good-bye and there is something else coming to me. Yet she had it strongly in her mind that she should be going on the way to Holmgard. Thinking that, she slept, and then it was day and the ship would have sailed.

  She sat herself down in the courtyard and watched what was going on. Sometimes the tall woman spoke to her. In one of the larger rooms four other women, also dressed in black, were sewing in silence at robes of gold and purple. In a shadowed part of the courtyard another such woman was painting on a leaf of parchment, a little, stiff, beautiful world. But a bell sounded and immediately all left what they were doing and hurried into the chapel. They looked at Halla, but she did not follow them. Instead, she went and stared at the half-painted leaf; in the edges were looped patterns, some drawn in with fine lines and others already painted with thick colours and gold. In the very middle of the picture was a throne of gold and one sitting on the throne with a dark, purplish beard and eyes golden and black and a patterned golden glory behind his head. All-Father was not like that.

  As the shadows lengthened, the nuns brought out the sick people, whom they cared for in one of the rooms. There was a charioteer who had been thrown and dragged; he had a broken leg and arm and bad cuts and bruises and he kept on crying because he was afraid he would never get back to the racing; he was unfree and he might be sold as cheap labour if he did not heal well. He was always wanting to speak about the racing, but none of the nuns who were looking after him had ever seen a race, so it was no use his trying to speak to them. But Halla talked to him and after that for a little he was quieter. The tall woman observed this with commendation in her face.

 

‹ Prev