While the guests made their selection, Vasili engaged those around him in conversation. Looking into each man’s eyes by turn, he elicited their function and status while stating where their interests and experiences touched his own. He was a man of the world and therefore a friend of it. He’d built his fortune through trade with Kiev and Byzantium in the south; Germany, Poland and Sweden to the west; the Arab and Persian lands in the east. Twice he’d made the journey to Constantinople, and as a young man he’d traded with Arab caravans at Bolghar on the Volga bend.
While his guests ate, he listened to Hero’s account of their own journey and plans.
‘How many people will be travelling in your party?’
‘If the Vikings join us, about a dozen.’
Vasili laid beringed fingers on Vallon’s hand. ‘Honoured guest, I hate to dash your intentions. Early summer, when the Dnieper is swollen with snowmelt, is the only time it’s possible to travel the Road to the Greeks. At this season the rivers in the northern part are too low to navigate. Better wait until next year. Or, of course, you can sell your goods here.’ He glanced at Wayland before turning his attention back to Vallon. ‘I believe my steward mentioned that the falcons would find a ready sale with one of my Arab clients. He has a deep purse.’
Vallon watched Wayland chewing on a wodge of pork. Alone among the diners, he seemed immune to Vasili’s charm.
‘The falcons are the reason for the journey south. In a way, we’re not taking them; they’re leading us.’
‘Hero said that the ransom demanded four falcons. You have six. Sell me two of them, including the white haggard.’
‘No,’ Wayland said, not even looking up.
Vallon glared at him before smiling at Vasili. ‘We can’t afford to part with any of the falcons. We lost two of them on the White Sea coast and came close to seeing them all perish in the forest. If we leave here with six, I’ll count myself lucky if we reach Anatolia with four.’
Vasili withdrew his hand. ‘Then I’ll say no more on the subject.’ He dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
Vallon sensed a straining of the mood and eased it by changing the subject. ‘How do affairs stand in Rus?’
Vasili waved away a pastry offered to him by a retainer. He inclined his head towards Vallon and lowered his voice. ‘Not well. It grieves me to tell you that you’ve arrived in my beloved motherland to find her fortunes at a low ebb. Under Grand Prince Jaroslav — God keep his soul — the federation was united from the Baltic to the Black Sea. Jaroslav was called “the Wise”, but his wits must have fled him on his deathbed. Before he died he portioned out the realm among five sons. The three eldest formed a triumvirate — that most unstable of arrangements whether in love, war or affairs of state. Another poisonous element corrupted the realm. This was Prince Vseslav of Polotsk, an outsider from within, great-grandson of Vladimir the Saint. Vseslav is a sorcerer and werewolf. You smile, but I know the man and can vouch that he’s an adept of the magic arts.’
Vasili sipped from his beaker. ‘Five years ago the triumvirate imprisoned Vseslav in Kiev. Many people believe that his sorcery was responsible for our country’s woes. The following year the nomads of the southern steppes took advantage of the rivalry among the Rus princes and attacked in force. When they defeated our army, the citizens of Kiev rioted, released Vseslav and proclaimed him their prince. He was dethroned a year later and fled back to Polotsk, where he sits weaving his spells and planning his next move. The reason I dwell on this character is that you’ll have to pass through the wild country bordering his principality. A convoy as small as yours could disappear in the forests and no one would be any the wiser.’
Vasili sat up in concern. ‘Honoured friend, my glum tidings are putting you off your food. Let me help you to a piroschki. Here, have some spiced mead. It’s a great stimulus to the appetite.’
‘It’s not your warnings that blunt my appetite. Not many days ago a Viking laid my belly open. I still wear the stitches. My physician has ordered me to eat sparingly and avoid meat until I’m fully recovered.’
Vasili looked rather at a loss, as if he thought Vallon might be teasing him.
‘Tell us more about the journey south,’ said Vallon.
Vasili placed an amber spoon on the table. ‘Novgorod.’
Picking up a silver salt, he placed it halfway across the table. ‘Kiev.’
On the far side of the table he placed his gold beaker. ‘Constantinople.’
Dipping a finger into his drink, he traced a line from Novgorod. ‘From here you cross Lake Ilmen and travel up the Lovat. This part of the journey will cost you much effort. As I said, the river will be low and you can only navigate it in small boats. Even then, for every verst you sail or row, you’ll have to tow for two versts.’
Vasili tapped the table between Novgorod and Kiev. ‘Here you leave the river and make the great portage across the watershed. It takes about six days. The shortest route takes you to the Western Dvina and then to the upper reaches of the Dnieper below Smolensk. If I were you, I’d avoid that city. The merchants there are rogues.’
Vasili wetted his finger again and marked the course of the Dnieper to Kiev. ‘At first the river is narrow and flows through a forest. Soon other rivers join it, swelling its course to two versts or more. From Kiev the journey is easy — seventy versts a day — until you reach here.’ Vasili jabbed with his finger. ‘Here the river funnels through a gorge and plunges over nine cataracts. Sometimes you will have to wade and guide your boats around the rocks by hand. Every year many ships and lives are lost. In your case, the loss is certain because you won’t be able to find any pilots willing to guide you through the rapids.’
‘Why not?’
Vasili stabbed a finger. ‘Because even if the rapids spit you out alive, the greatest peril still lies ahead.’
‘The Pechenegs,’ said Hero.
Vasili smiled. ‘So the reputation of the steppe nomads has travelled outside Rus. Well, I have news for you. The good news is that the Pechenegs were driven off the southern steppe about ten years ago. The bad news is that the warriors who scattered them are barbarians of the same stamp, but even fiercer and more insatiable. They are the same savages who threatened Kiev four years ago. Cumans, they call themselves. They lie in wait at the end of the gorge, but they move so unpredictably that you could encounter them anywhere beyond Kievan territory. Let me tell you something, my brother. The Cumans are so dangerous that no merchant dares travel through their territory except in the company of a fleet protected by soldiers. Merchants wouldn’t spend money unless it was necessary. What chance do you think you have? None, I tell you. None at all.’
‘The nomads won’t be expecting us. If we run the gauntlet, will we be safe?’
Vasili shrugged. ‘Yes, provided you stay on the river and camp on islands. At last you will come to the island of St Aitherios in the mouth of the river. And there, dear brother, you will find that all your efforts have been wasted.’
‘How so?’
‘Only small boats can negotiate the great portage; only a large ship can cross the Black Sea. At this time of the year, you won’t find any merchant vessels at the mouth of the Dnieper. The estuary will be deserted.’ Vasili leaned back. ‘There. I’ve sketched your prospects. Are you still determined to risk it?’
‘Hero once told me that a journey half-finished is like a story half-told. We’ll go on to the end, wherever we find it.’
Vasili threw back his head and laughed. ‘My friend, I hope that if you reach your goal, you find a bard worthy to immortalise your adventures.’
Vallon saw that the company had eaten themselves into a stupor, some of them yawning openly. ‘Sir, forgive our lack of manners, but my companions are still weary and your splendid hospitality has overwhelmed them. If you would permit …’
Vasili rose at once. ‘Let them sleep. Yes, after food and drink, the balm of sleep.’
The company climbed to their feet and bowed while Vallon thanked the
ir host again for his largesse.
Vasili wafted a hand. ‘The pleasure is all mine. Perhaps you would favour me with a word in private.’
‘Certainly. My Norse is poor. Can I bring someone who …?’
‘Of course.’
Vallon nodded at Wayland. Vasili ushered them into a chamber glazed with mica windows. He showed his guests to a bench padded with furs, spoke to his steward, then took up a seat opposite.
‘Since I haven’t curbed your wanderlust, I’d like to give you a favourable wind. First, I’ll draft a letter of introduction that will open doors for you in Kiev. My steward will help you find suitable boats and I’ll provide you with the guide I employ for my own expeditions. Oleg knows every inch of the portage and the river-men who’ll take you across it. They’re honest and willing toilers. If you wish, you can cross the portage humming songs and with your thumbs tucked into your belt.’
‘I’m obliged. Naturally, we’ll pay.’
Vasili waved away the offer. ‘Oleg is my own man and I’ll bear his expense. He’ll make sure that the porters charge a fair price.’ Vasili’s cupbearer entered with an enamelled tray bearing a glass carafe and three silver beakers. ‘Wine from the Greeks. I hope your physician will allow you the indulgence.’
Vallon sniffed the purple liquor appreciatively. Wayland wrinkled his nose. Vallon sipped and felt the spirit suffuse him with warmth. He sensed that Vasili had left something unsaid.
‘If there’s anything we can do in return …’
‘Nothing. Trade is the lifeblood of Lord Novgorod the Great. Tell your merchant adventurers of the generous reception they can expect.’ Vasili drank and then paused in afterthought. ‘There is one small favour. I have some documents that I need to send to Kiev. With winter coming, I thought I’d have to wait until next year, but since you’re determined to go, perhaps you wouldn’t mind …’
‘Not at all. Excuse me a moment.’ Smiling, Vallon spoke to Wayland in French. ‘Stop scowling.’ Vallon transferred the smile to Vasili. ‘He hasn’t drunk wine before. I was telling him not to let it go to his head.’
Vasili’s gaze dwelt briefly on Wayland before returning to Vallon. ‘Honoured friend, I must make one last attempt to dissuade you from your course. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you. Can’t I persuade you to stay in Novgorod and put your affairs in my hands?’
‘We’ll leave as soon as we can find boats. As I said, the falcons aren’t for sale, but if you’re interested in purchasing some of our other goods …’
Vasili fluttered his fingers. ‘I’m always willing to help a friend. If you want, I’ll take the walrus ivory and sulphur off your hands. I’ll send my steward over tomorrow. Now, I won’t keep you from your bed a moment longer.’
Rising from his chaise, Vasili escorted his two guests as far as the compound gate. ‘Goodnight, dear friend. Think about what I’ve said.’
The gate shut behind them. They walked in drowsy silence through the empty streets. The cathedral bell rang out with chimes that sounded exotic to Vallon’s ear.
‘You displayed the manners of a churl,’ he said.
‘I don’t trust him.’
Vallon stopped. ‘If a man excites your suspicion, you keep your doubts hidden.’ He resumed walking. ‘Why don’t you trust him?’
‘I don’t understand why he’s buttering us up.’
‘It’s true that Novgorod lives by trade, and a sumptuous meal is a small price to pay for good will. Also, even with Richard’s bargaining our new clothes didn’t come cheap.’
‘When we arrived at Novgorod, Vasili’s steward wanted to buy the falcons. His lord expressed the same interest tonight. Earlier today I made some enquiries. In Rus a female slave sells for one nogata. That’s about twenty pennies. Guess how much a gyrfalcon fetches.’
‘Twice as much? Five times?’
‘One gyrfalcon could buy twenty slaves. With the silver we’d earn by selling them, we could buy enough slaves to carry us piggyback to Byzantium.’
‘Perhaps that says more about the cheapness of lives in Rus than the value of gyrfalcons. Anyway, it proves nothing. Vasili made it clear that he would give us a good price for the falcons.’
‘I was watching him. I could see him calculating. He realised that we wouldn’t sell them no matter how much he offered, but he’s still determined to have them.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Ask yourself why Vasili should provide us with his own guide.’
‘As a favour for us carrying his letters.’
‘He tells us we’ll never survive the journey and then entrusts letters to us. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Perhaps they’re not particularly important. Look, you’re forgetting that he did everything to dissuade us from making the journey.’
‘He knows we’re committed. What made my ears prick up was when he said that beyond Novgorod territory we’d find ourselves in no-man’s land where our disappearance wouldn’t be noticed. And that story about the sorcerer prince …’
‘You’re doing an excellent job of spoiling my evening.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that … I don’t know … Something’s not right.’
They’d reached the gate of their lodgings. Vallon jangled the bell and turned to Wayland. ‘If you’ve got an itch, I’d be foolish to ignore it.’ He couldn’t keep from yawning. ‘But right now, all I can think of is bed.’
The Road to the Greeks
XXXVIII
Vallon was finishing breakfast alone in his chamber when Hero poked his head around the door. ‘There’s a queue of people waiting to see you.’
‘Who?’
‘Just about everyone. Caitlin, Drogo, Garrick. Most of the Vikings.’
‘I’ll see Garrick first. Has Richard tallied up his wages?’
Hero placed two purses on the table. ‘This one’s Raul’s. That one’s for old Garrick.’
Vallon stood and weighed the bags, one of them the reckoning of a man’s life. ‘Poor Raul.’ He put the purses down and rested his hands on them. ‘Suppose I told you that I’ve decided to end our journey. Here. In Novgorod.’
‘Give up now? What about the lost gospel?’
‘More than a year has passed since Walter was taken captive. He might be dead by now. He could have negotiated his release. The Seljuks are nomads. The Emir might have moved Walter to Persia.’
‘You could have used the same arguments six months ago.’
‘The Emir insisted that the falcons be delivered by autumn. It’s now October and the longest part of the journey still lies ahead. We probably won’t reach the Emir’s court until next year, travelling through the depths of winter.’
‘Sir-’
‘In the space of a week, I nearly died and we lost Raul and the dog. If we hadn’t run into the hunters, we’d all have perished.’ Vallon looked up. ‘We’re bound to fortune’s wheel and I feel it turning.’
Hero’s mouth worked. ‘A year’s toil and effort — and all for nothing?’
‘I don’t count our lives as nothing.’
Hero braced himself. ‘What about the vow you swore in the chapel.’ He looked at the floor. ‘I heard you swear to complete the journey however long or dangerous.’
Vallon waved tiredly. ‘I’m not interested in saving my soul if it means risking my company’s lives.’
Hero was silent for a few moments. ‘What will you do?’
‘Stay here until spring and then resume my journey to Constantinople.’
‘Where does that leave the rest of us?’
‘With the money from our cargo, each of you would have enough to start afresh.’
‘Start where? Wayland and Richard can’t go back to England. I’m the only one with a place to call home.’
Vallon sat down. ‘So you’re determined to go on.’
‘Yes, and Richard and Wayland share my resolve. But only if you lead us.’
Vallon smiled sadly. ‘You’ve grown to manhood,
Hero. Me, I’ve just grown old.’
‘Nonsense. You’re still weak from your wound. A week’s rest will restore you to good health and spirits.’
‘We don’t have a week. If we’re to continue, we must leave as soon as possible.’
‘Whenever you say.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Certain.’
Vallon regarded him a moment longer, then sprang up. ‘All right. Mustn’t keep Garrick waiting.’
When the Englishman entered, Vallon clasped him by both hands. ‘So we’ve reached the parting of the ways. I’ll miss you, Garrick. You’ve been a staunch companion.’
‘I’ll miss you, sir, and all my other friends. If it wasn’t for my promise to Raul, I don’t think I could have borne the pain of parting.’
‘If you hadn’t made the decision, I’d have made it for you.’ Vallon took one of the purses. ‘That’s for Raul’s family.’ He held out the other purse. ‘And that’s for you.’
Garrick stared at it. ‘I can’t accept all that. Even half would be too much.’
‘I’ll be the judge of your worth. Use it to buy that smallholding you were telling me about. It will give me pleasure to think of you working your own soil. So, not another word. Have you arranged a passage?’
‘I’ll travel with the Icelanders. There’s a ship sailing for Sweden in a week.’
‘We’ll have left by then. Keep the money safe and secret.’ Vallon led Garrick to the door. ‘We’ll say farewell properly when the time comes. Ask the lady Caitlin to come in.’
Vallon wasn’t sure what stance to assume. Caitlin also seemed uncharacteristically awkward, entering with eyes downcast. ‘Can I speak to you alone?’
Hawk Quest Page 53