“God help me, but I must,” Alexios winced with pain.
“Yes, you must,” Talon agreed.
They lifted him up and half-carried him over to the horse. With difficulty they managed to get him astride his animal where he sat hunched over the pommel trying to stifle a sob of agony. Max and Talon looked at one another. Max absently stroked the head of the dog that had never left his side.
“This does not look good, Talon. Look, the Emperor is moving off already, leaving the wounded behind,” Max said this under his breath as he watched the army begin to move away
“I do not know what choice he has, Max.”
“He will leave these men behind to die and we cannot take them with us either, but that one we should take with us.” He pointed to one of the Varangians who was limping along trying to keep up with the others. He had a wound in his calf that had a crude bandage wrapped around it. Eadgar was trying to help him along.
“It is Cuthberht! Quick, Talon, get hold of that horse over there!” Max said with an urgent note in his voice. “No one seems to have noticed it.”
Talon scrambled off to catch the horse, which did not try to escape. He knew very well that Cuthberht would never be able to make it to their destination without one.
Max meanwhile called over to the Norseman. “Get on the horse, Cuthberht. It is your only chance.”
Cuthberht looked back at them. Despite the bandage he was bleeding copiously from his wound. There was a desperate look in his eyes that changed to one of pure relief when he saw Talon holding the reins out to him. He slapped Eadgar on hte shoulder, said something to him then urged him to go on with the others. He limped back and took the reins and said, “God bless you, Frank. I am in your debt.”
“Can you ride?”
“Does it matter? I will ride no matter what,” he replied. “What? Should I wait for the Turks to come and geld me?”
“Let me look at that wound,” Talon said.
Cuthberht held onto the reins of the horse and sat down hard. Talon realized what an effort it had been for him to walk with the wound. It was a nasty and deep cut, but he was able to stop the bleeding with a tight bandage and patted the man on the knee.
“You can get up now, Cuthberht, it will take more than this to finish you.” He helped the man onto his horse.
“I shall stay with you, Frank. I owe you that.”
“I am, Talon. You do not have to,” Talon said.
“I shall, Talon. The Gods have given me a second chance. I thought I was finished just then.”
“Then stay with us, as I think we are about to be left behind,” Talon remarked with a lift of his chin toward the emperor’s entourage. “You will be good company.”
“Stay together and we will be fine. Keep that axe of yours with you, Cuthberht. You might still need it,” Max said. Talon had a very uneasy feeling that they might not survive, but it made sense for them to stay together.
There were many wounded but all who could not walk or ride either on their own or with the help of a comrade were to be abandoned. Some made a pitiful effort to stagger to their feet despite their gaping, crippling wounds.
“In God’s name, do not leave us to those barbarians!” they cried, but the remainder of the men who could continue to march had the wide-eyed stare of men who have seen too much horror and are simply trying to get out of hell. Talon and his companions were being slowly left behind, which could be disastrous, for the Turks would surely come back to loot the dead and finish off anyone they found alive.
“We must keep up at least until dark,” Talon said to his companions. Alexios looked dazed, Max was squinting, but Cuthberht was alert and his bright blue eyes watching both the front and the back of them.
They rode flanking Alexios, at times holding him upright as they walked their horses. He was in great pain but Talon felt that as long as they could find clean water and food soon he might be able to keep his friend alive. They were falling further and further behind the emperor’s entourage, but there was nothing they could do about that. Alexios could barely stay on his horse. Talon was worried, and he wondered, not for the first time, why he was here at all. It was not his or Max’s fight. But then again perhaps it was, as the Turks were moving in large numbers all over the former Christian world. All the same, he knew full well that he would have remained in Constantinople if the Emperor had not ordered him to come.
“Do you think he will make it?” Max asked Talon of Alexios as they watched the sun setting.
Talon pointed. “We are close to some low wooded hills that the army has to negotiate, after that we should be near the border and with God’s help I can look after Alexios until then. Cuthberht will be all right as long as he has his wound stitched up and cleaned. Alex’s wound did not go deep enough to open his guts, but it came close. He needs to be stitched up or it will fester and then…”
Talon did not have to elaborate to Max, who knew full well what that meant.
Cuthberht remained with them and they were grateful. His wound was painful and he knew it would have meant death had he not had a horse to ride. He spoke very bad Greek so Talon had to strain to understand him. All the same he provided company, which was sorely needed, and there was something reassuring about his large muscular frame and the huge axe dark with dried blood that he gripped in his right hand as he rode on the left side of Alexios.
They arrived at the base of the wooded hills as the setting sun shone red in a flame of glory low in the western sky. The Emperor was for moving on, and his generals did not gainsay him. The army would march along the well-defined track that would take them through a low pass in the hills and then bring them to the plain beyond and the first fortified towns that belonged to the empire. It was a matter of five or six hours continuous marching. The Turks had drifted away as evening settled in so the army had for some hours been unmolested.
As they climbed the slopes of the first hills Talon looked back and saw the detritus the mass of men had left in their wake. Wounded and dead men and horses lay strewn along the side of the road among the baggage and equipment the men could or would no longer carry.
It would be rich pickings for the Turks in the morning, and more terrified men would stumble crying with frustration and fear along the road as they realized that they would not be able to march any further for loss of blood or the agony of their wounds, to await the cruel vengeance of the Turks. He turned his attention back to Alexios who was in a bad way; his normally dark features were ashen. The pain of the wounds and loss of blood were taking their toll.
Max glanced forward toward the Emperor and his entourage who were now some distance ahead of them. No one from that group so much as looked back to see how they were faring. They were now almost at the end of the marching rear guard who paid them scant attention as they staggered up the hill.
“We should stop and allow Alex to rest, Talon.” Max said. His face was grim and his jaw set. He knew full well what this could mean.
“If we stop then let us ride well off the trail and work our way into the hills. We know where the road is so we can regain it later.”
Max nodded. He looked as exhausted as Talon felt, but neither wanted to leave Alexios to the tender mercies of the Turks. They would have to stop.
“A couple of hours…it is all we can afford,” Max stated. “I have the headache of all headaches,” he complained. Talon said nothing. He hoped that the gash on Max’s head was all it was and not something more serious. He asked Cuthberht how he was feeling, and the Varangian said he would be fine.
“I am concerned about your comrade. He looks in a bad way,” he said, nodding at Alexios.
“He is, but with us three beside him there is a chance we can make it through.”
“Your dog likes that one there,” Cuthberht indicated the dog that remained close to Max.
“Max seems to have a way with it. It might be useful if we get in a scrap. It knows how to fight.”
“I have seen that,” Cuthber
ht said with a grin. His big round face was almost hidden by his bushy red beard but the exposed skin on his forehead was scabbed with sunburn and his bright blue eyes looked tired. He had massive shoulders and his large frame was too large for the small horse he was riding. Talon thought that he looked like a troll perched on the horse, which he made look small, but Talon was glad of his company.
They rode their horses off the darkening road, eliciting some disinterested looks from the dust-covered men marching past, but no one tried to stop them. Once they were well out of sight of the road Talon dismounted and walked back along their trail. He made sure there were no obvious signs of their having left the track and then went back to remount. Holding onto Alexios’ horse, Talon led the way up the slope among the thick trunks of stunted trees, their horses slipping and struggling for a foothold until they came out onto the crest of a low hill. From here, still under the cover of the trees, he could see the dust rising along the road from the army marching, but just as easily he could see some way back along the way they had come. He looked at the men filing slowly past and wondered whether they would see the Golden City ever again.
____________
The World is a raging Sea
Whose depth and width are vast,
And Time is a rickety bridge extending across it.
Yedaya Hapenini
Chapter 15
The Return
Talon was concerned about Max but his friend, although groggy from the blow to his head, still seemed to be able to function and was taking care of Cuthberht. Having settled the Norseman against a tree Max joined Talon as they considered Alexios.
“We can settle here for a while; let’s get him down.”
They eased Alexios off the horse and laid him against the bole of a gnarled old tree near to Cuthberht. The dog plopped itself down alongside the roots of another tree, his tongue hanging out panting and watching them. Alexios groaned with pain but otherwise said nothing. His eyes were closed and his face pallid. It was as though he had lost interest in his surroundings. Talon looked down at him.
“I am going to go down the other side of this hill and see if I can get some water. There might be a stream somewhere nearby,” he told the other two men. They were too exhausted to do more than nod acknowledgment.
Taking his bow and the now empty water skin, he left Max and Cuthberht to watch over Alexios and the horses and moved silently down the other slope of the hill to where he thought he might have heard the distant sound of water. The dog scrambled to its feet and accompanied him, keeping close, its head up and lifting its feet as though sensing that it should not make any noise. Talon was not disappointed; there was a trickle of water flowing along the almost dried up bed of a stream. Despite his eagerness for the water he approached with great care, taking the dog by the collar to restrain it. It was very possible that the Turks were somewhere near and the last thing he needed was to stumble upon any of them.
The cicadas were rasping loudly in the evening twilight, making it hard to distinguish other small but important sounds as he approached the water, but he heard nothing that sounded like men and their animals. He watched the dog carefully as he went but it displayed no interest in anything that might spell danger, so he cautiously moved to a dense thicket that was very near the water and began to fill the skin. He leaned over and took a long drink of water to slake his own thirst.
A small lizard leapt up, surprising him briefly as it skipped over the dried grass to stop and stare back at him, then it did three small press ups and ran off under a nearby stone. The dog leaned over the low bank and was about to jump in after the lizard when Talon placed a restraining hand on its shoulder and pushed it down. It obeyed him with a reproachful look, then lapped the nearby water, looking up at him with questioning eyes. Suddenly, its attention flicked downstream and it gave a low growl.
Talon instantly followed its gaze and was shocked to see that downstream, only about one hundred and fifty paces away, there were indeed some dismounted Turkish warriors who were letting their horses drink. He berated himself for having missed them the first time he had checked.
Clearly they did not think there was any danger, as they were squatting comfortably alongside their horses talking. Talon froze for a few long moments and then very slowly slid back into the bushes behind him, whispering softly to the dog to follow. It stood up and moved after him as he walked carefully away from the water. He had a full skin so there was no reason to tarry other than to see which direction they would take. Eventually the Turks mounted up and headed back downstream away from his position. He took out an arrow and knocked it just in case, but then made his way silently back up the hill. There was no sign of pursuit and the rasp of the cicadas continued undisturbed.
He arrived back in the resting place to find Max and Cuthberht both looking worried.
“You were gone so long I was concerned,” Max said, as the dog went up to him and offered to lick his face. He fondled its ears then pushed it away.
“There were Turks or Turcoman warriors watering their horses. I had to be sure which way they would go when done. I would not be surprised if these woods are crawling with them.”
Max’s eyes widened. Cuthberht went straight to his horse and took down his axe. His wide red face displayed apprehension.
“I do not think they heard or saw me,” Talon said as he handed the water skin to Max, who took a long pull and then passed it to Cuthberht. Max allowed Talon to undo the bandage on his head and clean the matted hair and wipe most of the blood off his face before replacing the bandage. The wound was long but not deep. It would heal if it was kept clean, Talon reasoned. He squatted next to Alexios and nudged him awake.
Cuthberht assumed the role of guard and gave a low call to the dog to come with him to stand on the edge of the small clearing, watching and listening.
“Do not say anything, Alexios, as there are enemy all about,” Max whispered while Talon was attending to him.
Alexios stared up at him and nodded. “Where are we?” he whispered.
“Well off the road, resting, but we cannot stay long. I want to dress your wounds and then we must move on or we will be trapped behind the Turks who are following the army. By dawn we must be over the border or we are in serious trouble,” Talon whispered back.
“Why do not you leave me and save yourselves?” Alexios muttered. He ground his teeth as a wave of pain washed over him and his knee gave a spasmodic jerk. He gave out a low moan.
“We do not leave our friends behind,” Max told him.
“God bless you for this…if we survive I will not forget,” Alexios whispered.
Talon unwound the bandages and inspected the wounds. The knee wound worried him most because it was deep. From what he could tell a spear had penetrated just below the kneecap and done considerable damage to the tendons and the cartilage. All he could do was to bind it tight with more rags torn from his own cloak and do the same with the blood-drenched bandage wrapped around Alexios’ stomach. At least the bleeding had been reduced to a mere seepage.
“We can stay for another hour and then we must leave. There will be a thin moon tonight, which will help us, but we will be in constant risk of discovery. You must do your best to stay awake and to make no noise.”
Cuthberht remained where he was while Talon and Max settled down near Alexios, who was dozing in a pain-filled state. Occasionally he would give out a low groan but otherwise he tried bravely to keep quiet.
The moon was climbing into the sky and the crickets were sounding off in the woods and frogs had taken up the song contest from the stream in the valley when Talon indicated to the others that it was time to leave. Max helped Cuthberht onto his animal then he and Talon assisted Alexios onto his horse, tied him to his saddle, then lead the way with their own animals down the hill towards the road. The dog stayed close to Max, silent and attentive for untoward noises as they moved through the trees. They moved very cautiously, although Talon was reasonably sure that the Tur
ks would not be traveling on the road during the night. The Turks had every reason to believe that it was all theirs and they had time to do what they liked during the day. Nevertheless he worried that there might be a loose band of pilferers out looking for advance pickings.
A hot breath of wind came up the hill behind them. There was a flicker of light that briefly illuminated the distant mountains to their rear and they heard the ominous sound of thunder in the distance. Watching the lightning flicker over the area of the fateful gorge Talon thought of the dead abandoned to the elements; it seemed as though some strange gods might be hovering over the battleground investigating the battlefield and arguing over their portions.
As though reading his somber thoughts Cuthberht said in a low voice, “The gods and ghouls are feeding well tonight, I think.”
The air around them changed perceptibly from the dry heat to which they had become accustomed to a heavy pall, making them sweat under their thick hauberks and chain armor.
“This might be a good thing,” Talon whispered to Max, indicating the storm.
“If God decides to send it our way,” Max whispered back and Cuthberht growled assent. Rain could help them travel undetected.
They arrived on the road to find it quiet and apparently deserted. They stopped and listened very carefully for any sounds of horses in either direction before walking the horses slowly up the hill. They still passed pieces of equipment and discarded baggage but not in any great quantities. The army had dumped most of its unwanted equipment down on the parched plains. Cuthberht went and retrieved a discarded bow. He hefted it. “I cannot understand why anyone would leave this behind.” Then he picked up a full quiver and climbed painfully back onto his horse.
He grinned at Talon and Max. “I too can use a bow. Not as well as you, Frank, but well enough.”
They gained the crest of the low pass and began the descent toward the plains beyond and the border without incident. The night was quiet now; even the cicadas had stopped, so they could listen to the more subtle night sounds. Behind them to the south the storm they had seen on the horizon had moved closer and the lightning began to be followed more closely by the rumble of thunder, but the sky was still clear above them.
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