The Viking Saga Read online

As they marched on along the tree-lined avenue, Haro said, ‘That was a good man and a true soldier we have left lying in the street, comrades.’

  Harald said, ‘If all Christians were like that one, there is not a true man who would not be a Christian. Kristion is just such another man as the priest, John, who once held me up in the sea until the Danish longship rescued me. I have often thought about that. I owe my life to a Christian, and soon, perhaps, another will owe her life to one. When I get the opportunity, friend Haro, I shall burn ten candles in a Christian church for Kristion, if his God will accept the offering.’

  Haro replied, ‘I think that He will, Harald; He seems an understanding God to me, after what I know of Thor and Odin.’

  As they talked in this manner, they passed many folk lying in doorways, inert or groaning; and here and there, at the street corners, they glimpsed small groups of men with angry faces, who melted into the dusk as the soldiers came up to them. Over all the city there was the heavy stench of sulphur and of green herbs, which had been flung on to the many braziers and street fires to keep away the plague.

  So at last they came to the white tower where Marriba had her lodging. Four Guardsmen stood before the archway which led into her house, looking impatiently to left and to right, as though they were tired of their long vigil.

  When Harald marched up to them, they sprang to attention, seeing his Captain’s sash.

  ‘Greetings, Captain,’ said their sergeant, who stared at the Viking in surprise when he recognized him. ‘These are good times for quick promotion.’

  Harald sensed the old soldier’s resentment and replied, ‘That is a question for you to discuss with the Most High. She will no doubt be interested to hear your remarks on her choice of officers.’

  The sergeant dropped his eyes and mumbled, ‘I meant no offence, Captain.’

  Harald stared at him impassively. ‘Very well, sergeant,’ he said. ‘March your men away immediately and report to the Palace. We have come to relieve you.’

  Without another word, the sergeant saluted and then turned and called his men together. As they marched away across the square, Grummoch said, ‘It was good to me to see the look on that sergeant’s face!’

  Harald smiled bitterly and said, ‘It is the first order I have given, as Captain of the Guard in Byzantium; it may well be my last!’

  Then quietly he whispered to Haro to follow him into the house, and told the others to wait outside for him, keeping well in the shadow of the building.

  ‘Do not let anyone come up these stairs,’ he told them. ‘No, not the Most High herself!’

  The soldiers nodded, for already they had come to like this quiet Viking who assumed power so easily without assuming the arrogance which too often goes with it.

  On the first landing of the stairway, Harald said, ‘Stay here, friend Haro. Come up only if I call you. Do not let anyone follow after me, for what I go to do must be kept a secret.’

  Haro said, ‘I would hold back the whole of Irene’s Company.’

  Harald smiled down at him in friendship, then drawing his short sword he flung open the door and entered.

  The old woman, Lalla, gave a cry of terror and dragged her skirts over her head, shrinking back among the cushions on the floor. Marriba sat on a small gilded stool in the middle of the room. She did not move as Harald strode across the floor towards her, but smiled quietly, looking past him into space.

  ‘Strike quickly, soldier,’ she said, as though she was inviting him to sit down, or to taste some sweetmeat that lay on the little table beside her. ‘Strike quickly and cleanly,’ she repeated. ‘I have been expecting you for three days and I do not wish to wait any longer.’

  Harald fell on his knees before her, amazed at her courage, and laid his sword in her lap. Only then did her gaze come back within the four walls of the room, and she looked down at him with a gentle surprise, recognizing him in spite of the great peak of his bronze helmet.

  She put her hand on his shoulder for an instant and said, ‘Why, have you been given this unpleasant task, then? How cruel of Irene to make you do it.’

  But Harald shook his head and said urgently, ‘I have come to give you your freedom in another way, Marriba. Come, there is no time to waste, you must do as I say.’

  She paused for a moment and said shyly, ‘Constantine … has he sent no message? Has he not tricked his mother and sent me a message?’

  Harald turned his face away, unwilling to look the girl in the eyes when he told her the savage truth of the matter, yet knowing that the truth must be told.

  ‘Lady,’ he said as gently as he could, ‘Constantine was unfaithful to you; he even signed your death warrant so that he might not be put to any further inconvenience. He is unworthy of you, Marriba; you must forget him and take your chance of freedom.’

  She stood up then and said simply, ‘Yes, I think I knew it, but I hoped against hope that he might have found strength from somewhere. Very well, Viking, what am I to do?’

  Harald took back the sword which she offered him and said, ‘First, I would be pleased if you would scream; something rather sharp and frightening, lady; for, after all, I am supposed to be here for a sharp and frightening business!’

  Marriba smiled sadly, then she went to the window and screamed. Harald was quite taken aback by the convincing sound which the girl produced. He heard the voices of the soldiers in the street stop suddenly, as though they too had been taken in. Then Harald went to the door and opened it. Haro was standing outside, his own sword out, his eyes wild.

  ‘It is all right, my friend,’ said Harald smiling. ‘No harm has come to her; you may go back to your post.’

  Then, though much against her will, the sword which had been brought to that house for one purpose was used for another; swiftly, Harald cut off the girl’s long hair, looking away as each thick tress fell to the floor. Then, with the help of Lalla, who had by now come round, he knotted a small turban on Marriba’s head and tucked her long gown about her so that it looked like a tunic.

  Afterwards he stood back and said, ‘You make a very pleasant-looking boy. You must take care that some silly young girl does not fall in love with you before you reach your father’s house at Jebel Tarik once again.’

  Marriba suddenly fell upon her knees before Harald, clasping his hands tightly. ‘My dear friend,’ she said. ‘I do not deserve such a protector as you. And am I really going back to my father?’

  Harald said grimly, ‘If you do not reach your father’s house safe, it will be because Haro lies dead on the ground. He will take you back, lady.’

  Marriba said slowly, ‘But it is so far and we have no money.’

  Harald answered quietly, ‘Haro has found his way half across the world on more than one occasion; travelling is nothing new to him. He has a sword and a ready tongue; I have no doubt that, before morning, he will have found money, one way or another – though it strikes me that he is more likely to find a boat for the two of you. That is more in his line and would be much more useful than money.’

  Harald went to the door and called Haro within. Quickly he told him what they had planned, and as he spoke, Haro nodded solemnly, as though he had expected it all along.

  Then Harald turned to go. ‘Stay here, my friends,’ he said, ‘until I have taken my men out of sight of this house. Then make your way down to the harbour by the back streets. One day we may all meet again. Farewell!’

  Suddenly Haro clasped him by the hands, and Marriba flung her arms about him.

  ‘We cannot let you go,’ said the girl, in tears. ‘Come with us, Harald, and I will see that my father makes you a rich man!’

  Harald turned his back on them, for he suddenly found that his eyes were becoming damp too. He shook his head.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘I have no wish to live out my days in Spain, thank you. Besides, friend Grummoch would feel lonely. Also, I have a hankering to see something more of the world before I settle down. No, I must go my way. Take care of her
, Haro; and goodbye, lady.’

  As he went back into the street, he was careful to be seen wiping the blade of his sword. But Grummoch was not deceived. A roguish smile played about his thick lips, but he said nothing.

  One of the other soldiers said, ‘Where is Haro, Captain?’

  Harald nodded back up the stairs. ‘I have left him to guard the body,’ he said. ‘The Most High would wish that; she might want to make one of her inspections, you know.’

  The two men stared at Harald, a strange light playing in their eyes. ‘It is well that we are all in this affair together,’ said one of them.

  Harald asked, ‘What do you mean by that, Guardsman?’

  The soldier began to shoulder his long javelin. ‘I mean that we are men who can keep a secret, Captain,’ he replied. His companion nodded in agreement, smiling. Then they began to march back to the Palace.

  When they reached the spot where Kristion had fallen with the plague, Harald stopped and spread his own cloak over the body, and put the purple sash over the Captain’s chest.

  Then he stepped back and gave Kristion a final salute.

  ‘We shall not see such a man again, my friends,’ he said. They did not reply, but looked down on the still Captain with gentle eyes. Then they marched on towards the high Palace walls. Once inside, Harald told the men to wait while he reported that the duty had been carried out successfully.

  As he strode across the coloured tiles of the great hall, he almost ran into the Chamberlain, who was bustling out, breathless, his face wet with sweat, his hands shaking with anxiety. Harald saluted him, raising his flat hand out above his head, after the custom of the Imperial Guard.

  ‘Hail, my lord,’ he said. ‘I bring a message for the Most High.’

  The Chamberlain stopped and stared at him as though he were some unusual wild creature brought from foreign parts.

  ‘The Most High?’ he said. ‘The Most High? Why, Irene is not here. No, she left for Chrysopolis, across the water, half an hour ago. She and the Prince – they think the air will be cleaner there – less danger of plague. And I must be going too, my dear fellow. Really, I must. The boat is waiting for me, down at the quay. You must excuse me.’

  He began to totter past Harald, who called after him, ‘When you see the Most High, my lord, tell her that we carried out our duty. Marriba will never trouble her again.’

  The Chamberlain did not even stop or turn round, but shambled on, nodding, his face streaked with fear. ‘Yes, my dear fellow,’ he muttered. ‘I won’t forget … No, I won’t forget.’

  Harald smiled grimly after him, then he too turned and went to where his men stood waiting for him, realizing that now there was no one in authority to whom he could report the death of Kristion.

  22. City in Flames

  As harald made his way towards the small postern where he had left his friends, his mind was clouded with doubts. Obviously the Palace would soon be left to the care of what remained of the Imperial Guard, since both Irene and her ministers were fleeing from the plague and would undoubtedly be away from Byzantium as long as there was any danger of the disease spreading. Moreover, it was likely that within a few days at the most, death would be so rampant within the city that the Guard would become virtually imprisoned within the Palace walls, for fear of infection.

  And that might become inconvenient for at least two reasons; food supplies would be scarce, and the Palace would become the unfailing target for any unrest which arose among the suffering population of the city’s poorer districts.

  As Harald turned over these thoughts in his mind, an angry red glow was flung across the sky from the northern suburbs of Byzantium. Hardly had this appeared, when a smaller flush spread over the low clouds to the west.

  Harald turned in time to see a third area of sky glowing a dull bronze-red. There could be no mistaking such signs. The rebellious elements of the city, having heard, no doubt, that their rulers had deserted them, were taking the law into their own hands, and were setting fire to those parts of the city which were unprotected.

  Grummoch met Harald and said, ‘This is what I expected, friend. Do we stay and roast, or do we set out on our travels again, to see what else the world holds for a pair of likely fellows?’

  Harald turned to catch the eyes of the two soldiers who had moved up close behind him and were waiting for his answer.

  ‘What say you, my friends?’ Harald asked them. ‘Will you stay in the Palace and risk starving, or will you come for a little walk with us, to see what the world is like outside Miklagard?’

  The elder of the soldiers took Harald by the hand. ‘Friend,’ he said, ‘nothing would please us better than to go walking with you; but my friend Justinian and I have wives and children over the water at Pera. It runs in our minds to go now and comfort them.’

  Harald said, ‘You are wise men, my friends. Go, and one day I hope we may meet again.’

  The two men threw their swords and javelins into a corner and ran swiftly towards the great open gate. Harald heard them joking with the Guard who lolled there, telling him that they were only going as far as the next corner, by the sergeant’s orders, to see if the night breeze was fanning the fires. Then they disappeared.

  ‘We might try the same trick,’ said Grummoch. ‘But it would be wise for us to walk in the opposite direction.’

  Harald nodded and they walked towards the gate, without their javelins but hiding their swords beneath their tunics.

  ‘Halt!’ shouted the Guard, suspiciously. ‘Where do you walk, men?’

  Grummoch answered, ‘We go at the sergeant’s orders to see if the fires are being fanned by the night’s breeze, Guardsman.’

  The man smiled cynically and shook his head. ‘You know the rules as well as I do, my little man,’ he said. ‘Only two allowed out at one time, except by special pass. Have you a pass?’

  It was in Grummoch’s mind to march up to the man and show him his great ham of a fist and to tell him that this was his pass. But at that moment there sounded a sudden scurry of many feet down the narrow street and a mob of excited townsfolk came into view, yelling and waving sticks and rough weapons.

  ‘Down with Irene, the she-wolf!’ they shouted. ‘Down with her idiot of a son! They have brought disaster upon us! The Bishops warned us that we risked damnation in supporting Irene! The Bishops are right! Where is Irene? We will slay her and her son! We will burn her Palace of Unrighteousness! Down with Irene! Down with the Guard! They are butchers! They are the hounds of their evil Mistress!’

  The Guard at the gate calmly lowered his javelin, which had prevented the passage of Harald and Grummoch. Then he drew a silver whistle from his belt-pouch and blew a shrill blast upon it.

  ‘You two had better go and get your javelins, my friends,’ he said with a cold smile to Harald and Grummoch.

  Behind them, in the barrack block, a trumpet began to sound the ‘Fall in!’ The two men heard the sound of their comrades’ feet pattering on the stone courtyard.

  They were caught between the mob and the Imperial Guard.

  Just then stones began to fly. One struck Grummoch on the chest, but did him no harm; another struck the sentry between the eyes. He fell like a slain ox and lay still.

  Grummoch rolled him aside and said, ‘Come on, Harald, or we shall be too late!’

  Then, with a great roar, he drew his sword from under his tunic and charged at the crowd. Harald came beside him, shouting out with all his strength, ‘Up the North! Death to all traitors!’

  The mob faded before them, like wisps of smoke before a fierce gust of wind. Suddenly the street was empty and then Grummoch said, ‘Come on, lad, or we’ll be caught again!’

  They turned and ran with all their speed away from the Palace gate, and did not stop for breath until they were once more in the centre of the city.

  They stood panting beside a tamarisk tree when Harald said suddenly, ‘I have seen the light, friend Grummoch! Look, do you notice a house at the end of that all
eyway, with a door shaped like a Frankish shield set on its end? Well, that house was once described to me by an old man, when I was in prison here. It is one of the secret treasure houses of Her Imperial Majesty – one of many, scattered about the city.’

  Grummoch ruminated like a great bull. ‘I recall what a splendid store of treasure I once had, little Harald, way back in the kingdom of MacMiorog of Dun-an-oir. That treasure I lost – you know how! I would like to reimburse myself for it, somehow, before I die.’

  Harald nodded and said, ‘Irene owes us a month’s pay, Grummoch; and we served her well. After all, did we not dispose of Marriba for her? Come on, let us see what is to be found there!’

  The door shaped like a shield opened easily when they set their shoulders to it, and they found themselves faced by a narrow stone passageway, at the far end of which was a small square courtyard, set round on three sides with squat pillars.

  Harald ran straightway to a square flagstone in the middle of the courtyard. There was an iron ring set into it.

  ‘This is the place,’ he said excitedly. ‘The old man described it all – even the iron ring. If we lift that flagstone, we shall find a flight of steps leading directly into the cellar where the gold is stowed.’

  Grummoch had taken the ring firmly in his hand when a light shone on them from behind. As they turned in surprise, a man came from behind one of the squat pillars, a long curved sword in his right hand.

  ‘You choose the right moment, my lords,’ he said in a sly and silky voice. ‘But, alas, you forget that I am the official guardian of what lies below.’

  Harald stared him in the eye and said, ‘We are Guardsmen of the Company of the Most High. We come at her command, to bring back treasure for her, to pay for anything she might require while she is away from Byzantium.’

  The man gazed at Harald for a long while and then began to smile. ‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘Yet only an hour ago a messenger came from the Most High, threatening me with a slow death if as much as a single plate were moved from its place when she got back from Chrysopolis! How do you account for that, then, my good fellows?’