IX
‘You are impressed with this?’ The Droungarios of the Capatanate of Italia Mar Hunrodarson gestured in passing at the mosaics. He governed the province from a Basilica in Bari, an ancient structure from the time of the Emperor Justinian, with heavy arches and a flat, coffered roof. Mar signed his eunuchs to bring his guest wine and seated him on a couch at the east end of the hall, where a large blue carpet had been spread over the marble floor. ‘The wealth you see here in Italia,’ said Mar as he sat in his chair, ‘is the shit of the Imperial Eagle. You will see well enough the truth of that when you get to Grikia.’
Mar beckoned to the prostitute as she came forward in a rustling of rose-coloured silk. Her tough blue eyes registered shock when she saw the face of the man she had been paid to entertain. But she quickly sat next to him and placed her slender arm on his huge, sloping shoulder. The guest placed his brutish hand round her waist; the sun-baked skin was crisscrossed with dozens of scars, and most of his forefinger was missing. ‘The reason I summoned you is this,’ continued Mar. ‘The Great King of Grikia has died, and I have just learned that the brother who was his marshal has been defeated.’ Mar used terms he knew his guest would understand. ‘The Great King who has been named the successor once promised the high seat to me. I am certain that when I remind him of his promise, he will gladly yield to me. If he will not, the Chief Kristr Wizard of the Griks will help me evict him.’
‘Then why do you need me and mine?’ The voice from the bearish chest was incongruously gentle.
‘I told you that I knew where you could find the prince who did not die at Stiklestad.’
‘Yes. Haraldr Sigurdarson. That is why I have come. He is in Grikia?’
‘Yes. He is an accomplice of this Great King who has cheated me. I expected him to be my ally in my worthy cause. But he is also a serpent-tongue and I am certain now that he will oppose me.’
‘How many men will you need?’
‘A great many. I believe the army of Grikia will oppose me. They do not want to be ruled by a fair-hair. However, I also know that a son of the Great Prince of Rus now has a grudge against the Griks. One of his comrades was slain in a brawl in the Great City. This Rus prince is ambitious as it is, and this gives him an excuse to attack. But of course you know the Rus. Without Norsemen to lead them, they are women.’
‘King Sven will allow me ten times three hundred men. Will that be enough to lead these Rus?’
Mar thought for a moment. ‘Men like you?’
‘You know there are not many like us. But these are well-tested men. Many fought for Sven’s father Knut at Stiklestad.’
‘Yes. That will be enough. I am going to send my marshal Thorvald with you. He will arrange your counsel with the Rus prince. I will instruct Thorvald as to the time for you to strike. You must be very careful to follow what he says, so that you will arrive at a time when the patrols cannot detect you until you are on the threshold of Miklagardr. And then everything you see here in Italia you shall have for yourself a thousand times.’
‘If I can kill Haraldr Sigurdarson, I will already have more than this. King Sven has added to King Knut’s bounty. Will I be allowed to kill Haraldr Sigurdarson?’
Mar looked into the fiery, dark, insane eyes of his guest. ‘Yes. You have already killed the King of Norway once, have you not? You will not find his little brother nearly as formidable a warrior. But then I forget. You already know that.’
The yacht’s deck swayed in a scarcely perceptible motion. The lights of the city blazed off the starboard railing. A eunuch walked forward from the stern-castle, his white silk like some phosphorescent sea creature. ‘You will miss it,’ said Haraldr.
Maria’s hands gripped the railing tightly. ‘Of course I will. It will probably make me melancholy. You will find me unendurable.’
‘I will find you seductive,’ said Haraldr, recalling an earlier conversation.
Maria put her hand to his face, but her melancholy seemed genuine. She turned to him suddenly. ‘No. I could not leave quickly enough. I am serious, my darling. I have a foreboding.’
‘You have not dreamed again?’
‘No. This is . . . I do not like the Emperor.’
‘I don’t understand. He has proved himself just and capable beyond my imagining. Consider. He has not executed a single man for the treason against him and has imprisoned but a few. His reforms have so encouraged the people that he cannot enter the city on even a secret visit without them spontaneously flocking to throw flowers and carpets on the streets before him. Believe me, I have seen this, and it is not a case of the cursores rousting people out of their homes. He is truly loved. And most importantly, he is deeply devoted to the Empress. Anyone can see his love for her.’ Haraldr shrugged. ‘I believe he is somewhat deficient in the area of military preparation, but his first challenge will bring out the warrior in him. You, yourself, saw him fight once.’
‘Yes. But I also saw him cringe once. That morning when Joannes sailed into the harbour. Ever since then he has looked at me as if he fears I will reveal his secret shame.’
‘I know that he harbours guilt about that day. I see it in his eyes as well. But I have also in my life suffered from that guilt, and I understand how it can rend a man’s soul. He will outgrow it.’
‘I don’t trust him.’
Haraldr realized he had pursued his argument to outpace some of the same doubts. But then there were few men in Rome one could not doubt in some fashion. ‘Most of the men I have talked to at court feel that Michael may be the most able Emperor since the Bulgar-Slayer. He is clearly dedicated to the Empire above all else; he dismissed his own father, the Droungarios Stephan Kalaphates, as commander in Sicily, and the man he appointed in his father’s stead, Maniakes, has dramatically improved the situation. He is Zoe’s lover again, I am almost certain, so he obviously has her interests at heart. And while Rome enjoys this good fortune, Norway now suffers under the boot of King Knut’s son, Sven. It is Norway, not Rome, that I am now concerned about.’
‘I am aware of that.’
Haraldr looked south to open water, as if the city that was clearly his rival offended his sight. He had forgotten that a woman could love her too. ‘This is your fashion of refusing me, is it not? I understand if you are frightened of the journey north. I am frightened myself, and certainly I fear for you. But you must refuse me in your own words, from your own breast.’
‘You are an enormous pig, Prince-King Haraldr!’ Maria pounded the railing with her fists. ‘I said I wanted to leave as quickly as it can be arranged!’
‘And leave your mother with this man you cannot trust.’
‘She is not my mother, pig head!’ Tears glimmered on Maria’s lashes.
Leave her to her anger, thought Haraldr. The scar from a deep wound takes many years to heal. Haraldr stepped away, having learned that intimacies only fanned the flames at these times. ‘Very well, Maria. I am going to ask to see the Empress tomorrow. I am going to discuss with her in terms of greatest candour her dealings with Michael, suggest the possibility that he may pose some threat to her, and discuss any fears or even intimations she may have. But if she assures me that she has no reservations concerning the Emperor – and I believe she is in a far better position to divine his intentions than you or I – then I am going to the Emperor and make arrangements for my leave-taking. It is not necessary for me to say that my heart cannot leave without you. But it is necessary for me to tell you that I am going to leave, and I will leave with my heart torn from my breast if that is how it must be.’
Maria did not answer, and her blue eyes blazed back at the City.
‘You are certain I cannot interest you in breakfast?’ Alexius, Patriarch of the One True Oecumenical, Orthodox and Catholic Faith, gestured towards the silver double doors of his private dining chamber.