The sea they were now sailing across was full of shipping. Galleys, merchant ships large and small, and fishing vessels abounded, ploughing up and down the straits of the Bosporus. They passed five huge war galleys speeding south on some errand, their oars rising and falling in perfect unison as the rowers drove their ships forward. Talon asked if the rowers were slaves, at which Alexios gave him an odd look.
“They are soldiers, who row when they are needed and fight otherwise. Any other way would be wasteful.”
Talon thought about this, remembering the slave-driven galleys of the Arabs.
There were the large sea dhows from the Arab world, perhaps even from Egypt, and Alexios pointed out the massive cargo ships from Genoa. They sailed by another batch of war galleys that were anchored, passing within hailing distance. The officers and men on board observed them without curiosity. They were just another vessel coming to the great city.
This cool morning the sea was choppy with white caps and a wind blowing from the southwest, so they were using only sail as they headed towards the southern border of the golden city. Sea gulls were in abundance, wheeling and diving into the choppy waters or shrieking at the ship and landing on the sides, their beady eyes searching for food, or swooping at discarded items they discovered in the crowded waters.
Alexios stood with Henry and pointed out landmarks ahead of them that would be useful. He told them that they would be docking at the Harbor of Julian, which was on the southern tip of the peninsula not far from the Hippodrome and the Great Palace itself.
Two hours later, when the sun was high in the sky, they drew close to the great walls of the city. Talon wondered if Alexios had made a mistake, for he did not at first see the great metal grill set into the wall between two towers towards which they were sailing. Then Alexios said to Henry, “Be careful here, Henry; we have to stop just before the walls and a pilot will come out and guide us in.”
Henry bellowed orders and the crew ran to do his bidding. The sails were furled and the rowers were told to put their oars out. The ship slowed and they drifted in silence, the oarsmen at the ready. All of the passengers were on deck, including the two monks. Everyone stared in wonder at the walls and towers that now loomed above them. The entrance they were hoping to take was a gap in the walls with a square tower on either side.
“I hope the pilot is going to come out soon,” Henry grumbled to Sir Guy. “I do not like drifting about so near to the shoreline with this wind behind me. It will be hard to get off the shore if it increases.”
But they did not have long to wait. The huge grill set in the walls began to move to the side with an audible rumble, and then a boat shot out of the entrance, rowed by an energetic crew. The small craft came alongside and a man climbed nimbly up the side of the ship to pause on the deck and look around.
He was met by Alexios, who walked forward and saluted him. They had a conversation in rapid Greek and then the man walked aft to climb onto the after deck. Ignoring the people standing around, the man concentrated on giving Henry instructions, which Dmitri translated.
Henry gave the crew orders and the rowers began to work again. They backed the ship some hundred yards, then rowed the vessel between the two towers and into the still waters of the harbor. Talon watched with interest as the soldiers on the walls above them cranked some mechanism and the enormous grill slid across the entranceway behind them to crash to a stop against the other wall, locking them into the harbor.
They had arrived in a quiet place without much movement, which was a surprise to Talon who expected many more ships to be inside.
“This is only used for the visitors, naval vessels and emissaries like yourselves, who come to pay their respects to the emperor,” Alexios informed him on being asked.
Their pilot guided the ship to a space alongside a high stone quay where Henry expertly set the ship into place. At a shouted command, the oars were shipped and ropes were tossed to men on the quay who pulled them in so that the side of the ship bumped hard against the thick knotted ropes hanging down from the stonework. Next, several people on shore tied the thrown ropes to big metal rings set into large stone pillars sunk into the stone pavement of the quay. The pilot, after a quick word with Alexios, received a coin then jumped ashore and disappeared into the crowd of people working on the quay.
“We have arrived,” Alexios informed them. He was clearly pleased, and Talon sensed that he wanted to depart as soon as was polite.
“We must wait for the customs and harbor officials to come and verify we are who we claim to be, so you should not go ashore until they have completed their business. Here they come now.” Alexios pointed to a group of people walking along the quay. They did not seem in any hurry, so it took some minutes before they were standing in front of the ship, which gave Talon and the rest of the passengers time to observe them.
The officials were dressed in expensive robes, which seemed somehow out of place in a rough place like a harbor. Their leader was tall and willowy, more richly dressed than all who accompanied him. His tunic was of the finest silk material and came down to his ankles, almost brushing his fine leather sandals. He wore an over-tunic that was more like a long coat and this was bound at the middle with a jeweled belt and a buckle of silver. On his head was a tall ornate cloth hat, which might have been the symbol of his rank. He wore no sword, but was accompanied by four well dressed men who looked like scribes and several armed men who resembled some of the soldiers they had encountered in the various harbors they had visited. But these men were far better dressed and armed.
Alexios murmured to Sir Guy, “This man is one of the Logothetes tou Genicon and answers only to the Logothetes tōn sekretōn of Constantinople, and he is directly responsible to the emperor for revenues, so this man is very powerful.”
“What do those names mean?” Talon asked with emphasis.
“He is “One who counts” and is responsible for all taxes and revenue that come in through the ports. One should always be respectful to his kind,” Alexios said in a low voice, as the official was only a short stone’s throw away by now.
The official looked at a paper that was presented to him and glanced across the quay towards the men standing on the deck. “State your business!” he demanded in a high falsetto voice.
Alexios stepped forward to the ship’s rail.
“This ship carries emissaries from the Kingdom of Jerusalem to see his Holiness the Emperor, bearing letters from King Baldwin of Jerusalem,” he called back.
“Do you have proof which will allow you to remain in this harbor?”
“I have a letter prepared,” Alexios said, and handed it down for one the minions to receive. The man hurried over to accept it and then presented it with a deep bow to the customs officer, who read the document and murmured something to a scribe standing nearby who quickly took some notes.
“Very well, you may stay, and there is no tax; although my officers will be coming to inspect the ship. If you are providing false information you will be imprisoned and the ship confiscated.”
Alexios nodded. The official turned and, followed by his men, strode off in a stately fashion towards the land gate and buildings further down the quay.
“That man is a walking king’s ransom!” exclaimed Guy looking after the departing group.
“What was that all about, Dmitri?” Henry asked
“He is the Customs officer for this port. He is the eunuch in charge of all customs duties that are collected here, which is not much, as this is for special visitors.”
“What is a eunuch?” Guy asked naively.
“He is had his balls cut off.” Max made a theatrical gesture by his groin.
“What?” this came from all three of the sailors.
“That is what they do in the Arab lands too,” Talon said.
Guy put his hand over his genitals. “By God, I cannot imagine that!” he said. “He sounds like…a woman, well not quite, but something like one. How is it that he is in charge
of everything when he is a whatdoyacallum?”
“Are they all like that?” Nigel asked as he came up to join them from the lower deck.
“Like what?” Talon asked.
“He looks odd. Long and thin.”
“He is a eunuch, and here in Constantinople they are all like that,” Sir Guy said. “To them we are known as ‘The Bearded Ones.’ They don’t grow them.”
“I could retire on the jewels he is wearing on his belt alone,” Henry said enviously, scratching his beard.
“You’d give up your own jewels in order to obtain the riches he has on his belt?” Nigel asked wickedly.
“No you numbskull, but he has the riches by the look of it…it is something for what he is missing.” Henry retorted.
This was greeted with snickers from his companions.
Talon had time to observe the soldiers who had accompanied the Logothetes. They wore a style of armor he had never seen before. He nudged Max. “Have you noticed their armor?” he asked.
“Yes, it is curious. They look like they’re wearing long thin metal tubes down their arms. And I see slightly wider tubes sewn onto their thigh tunics. They might be good to stop a swipe with a sword, but how do they deflect a stabbing blow?” Max said, examining the men on the quay with a professional air.
“You or I could slip either a knife or a sword blade in between those rods or tubes unless they have something underneath that I do not see. Their shoulders look well protected, but not their necks. Their helmets seem to be made of bronze, which good steel would cut into if the hit were in the right place, and which a mace or an axe could destroy easily.”
“Those large round shields they carry look like they are bronze plated, Talon. They make a nice polish, but I wonder how useful against a lance?”
“They wear nothing on their lower legs or their lower arms. Good targets in a close quarter fight, wouldn’t you say?” Talon said.
“What are you two talking about?” Sir Guy joined them as they leaned on the ships rail.
“We were doing what we cannot help, Sir,” Max said with a grin. “We’re discussing the merits of their soldiers’ armor and we find it wanting.”
Sir Guy glanced casually over at the soldiers. “I would agree with you, Max. Our chain mail Hauberk is superior to that which the Byzantine foot soldiers wear. Their armor looks as though it hasn’t changed since the time of the Romans, which was ages ago. Then again, those men might be in ceremonial dress. I am not sure. They do have armor on their elite cavalry that is every bit as good as chain, at least I hear it is.”
Talon filed this information away for future reference. He was not about to underestimate these people. After all, they had built the most enormous and beautiful city he had ever seen, and the fortifications were formidable. They must be doing something right.
*****
They waited impatiently for another interminable two hours, but no one came to inspect the vessel. Possibly the customs official deemed Alexios to be a reliable speaker for the ship yet had omitted to inform them they were free to leave.
Alexios finally said it was time for him to go. “I will send a messenger to you before too long, Sir Guy. It will be my responsibility to make sure of the preliminary arrangements for your visit to His Holiness the Emperor. You will have to accompany me on several occasions to meet with the right people and to make sure there are no complications. Meanwhile there are inns on shore up on the side of that hill. You will have to arrange for permissions at the gates which are shut at night, as there is a curfew on all the harbors.”
He gave a handclasp to Sir Guy and Talon, then climbed onto the quay with his servants and disappeared into the crowd.
“This is only one of how many ports for this city?” Henry asked, his tone incredulous.
“There are five ports, and one or two of them are larger than this one,” Dmitri said.
“I have never seen a city like this before. It makes Acre look like a village,” Max stated. “Perhaps Alexandria had something of the same, but this place is beyond my belief!”
“When you peasants have finished ‘Ooing’ and ‘Ahing’ at everything, I want to get off the ship and find a place to sleep that is not heaving and rolling,” Sir Guy stated. He had been listening with some amusement to their comments.
“Dmitri, you will take me to find a place for us to stay. The passengers will be in one inn, that includes our Godly kinfolk, and then find a place for Henry, Nigel and Guy. Henry, the crew will have to stay on board.”
Henry nodded. “Yes, Sir Guy, I agree we should not leave the ship alone. Nigel, you stay for the first day until we know where we are staying and what is going to happen.”
“Be prepared for a stay of several weeks, maybe longer. Things do not move swiftly here,” Sir Guy said, his tone dry.
“Come, Talon, we will go with Dmitri. Max, you and Claude will accompany us.”
They collected their baggage, which was not much; the monks had even less; then they left the ship to push their way through the crowd of workers on the quay. They strode to the gates where they were asked their business, and finally after many explanations and much gesticulating on the part of Dmitri they were allowed through; but the guard officer, dressed in a fine tunic, gleaming breastplate and sandals, made them carry a paper that explained who they were.
“They seem to have rules for everything here,” Talon remarked as they set off along a crowded street that led up the hill away from the harbor. “Where are you taking us, Dmitri?” he asked.
“We are going to see a friend of mine who once had a very good inn, Sir Talon. It has been many years since I was here so I do not know if he is still about, but if so it is not far,” Dmitri told him.
Before making much headway, they heard the roar of a crowd and all of them halted.
“What was that?” Talon asked.
“They must be having a race at the Hippodrome. Do you see it? It is that large building over there.” Dmitri pointed. “That is why there are so few people on the streets today.”
Talon stared at him in amazement. The streets of this city teemed with people, beasts of burden and stray dogs. Then they all turned to look at the long, massive building from which was coming another roar.
“What kind of race?” Max asked.
“They race the chariots…do you not know of that?”
“This I must see some time,” Talon said.
He glanced at the two monks. Jonathan looked disapproving but Martin looked interested.
Dmitri led the way along the busy street that went in a steep incline straight up the hill. Talon noted with amazement that the entire street was paved with stone. He could not remember where he had seen anything like this other than in Alexandria. Certainly not in Acre and never in Languedoc, although in Carcassonne there might have been some paved streets, he could not remember. It was not a particularly special road either from what he could tell. There were houses along both sides, many built of stone and mud walls with russet colored clay tiled roofs. It looked as though the side of the hill was scaled with red in places, the houses were so densely packed and the side streets very narrow.
Vendors were established all along the side of the road shouting their wares of food and drink and trinkets and cloth of amazing colors. The tantalizing smell of roasting chicken and fish mingled with the sharp aroma of spices wafted towards them from the open shops on either side of the street. Talon realized just how much he had missed a good meal. The shipboard food, despite frequent stops at the islands and the fish they had hauled out of the sea along the way, had gradually become less and less palatable.
Many people were moving about the market stalls. He noticed a few women who wore veils and scarves and bright colors but who were unaccompanied. Others had their servants with them, but no one showed concern over single women walking along a street rubbing shoulders with wizened old people and young men alike. He had noticed this in Acre too. Greek Christians did not seem to have the same inhi
bitions as the Arabs regarding their women folk moving around unescorted.
They pushed past groups of well-dressed men who were chattering and gesticulating animatedly and glanced at them as they passed but did not hinder their passage. Talon assumed they were merchants; the manner of their dress told him that some at least were not from these parts.
There were even soldiers lounging at the entrances of what Talon took to be taverns, some of them inebriated even at this early hour. He observed that the men were of many different nationalities and wore distinctive clothing that identified them as such, although he had no idea where most of them might be from.
There were numerous beggars, lying or hobbling about on crude crutches. Many were maimed, riddled with disease and sores that could see through their filth. Talon wondered if these unfortunates might be the detritus of past campaigns. Beggars called out to them as they passed, waving wooden bowls and shaking their fists or sticks at them if they did not provide any coin. Martin was visibly distressed and flinched when a particularly aggressive beggar hobbled over to him and began to shout in some strange language. Max and Claude move to intercept the man and pushed him carefully out of their way. Jonathan did not seem to notice the beggars, but his gaze roamed over the younger women, many of whom were engaged in one occupation or another.
The street they labored up was home to many industries and merchants. They passed a bakery that had a long queue of people outside. The tantalizing smell of fresh baked bread made Talon feel even hungrier than before. There were soldiers outside keeping the line under control.
“Why do they need soldiers outside a bakery when there are many other kinds of shop along this street?” he asked.
“Bread is for everyone who can produce a lead token to prove they are a citizen. We might be able to obtain tokens for the crew, as they will need food, and we are after all a delegation. I shall ask,” Dmitri assured him.
Greek Fire Page 6