The Danes were for killing them-indeed, several Sea Wolves already had their spears out of the holders and were taking aim, when Faysal put a stop to it. Seizing the nearest spearman by the arm, he prevented the warrior from throwing while shouting to me to tell them not to kill the pirates.
"Save them!" Faysal urged. "They are not Arabs, they are Armenians. Such captives may prove useful to us in Byzantium."
I relayed his words to Harald, who grudgingly agreed and ordered the men to rescue the survivors instead.
The captives were in all respects similar to the raiders who had attacked us on the road to Sebastea, and like those others their appearance was such that, until they spoke, I could not tell them from Arabs. "How did you know they were Armenians?" I asked Faysal. "Was it from their speech?"
"As Allah lives I knew even before they spoke," he replied with a shrewd smile. "The Sarazens do not yet possess the secret of the Greek fire. The method of its making is a carefully guarded secret which we have yet to penetrate. That these men use it can only mean that someone from within the imperial service has given the secret to them."
So it was that three soggy Armenians joined our company, snatched from the sea, to be bound hand and foot and carried to Constantinople as further proof of Nikos's treachery.
Standing at the sternpost, Harald Bull-Roar called, "Up sail!" and commanded Thorkel to resume our previous course. Then, as the proud dragonprow swung around, Jarl Harald lofted the war axe and bellowed his victory call.
"To Miklagard!" he bawled. "Death to our enemies!"
PART FIVE
Thou shalt not be left in the land of the wicked,
Thou shalt not be bent in the courts of the false;
Thou shalt rise victorious above them
As rise the waves above the shore.
Christ himself is shepherd over thee,
Enfolding thee on every side;
He will not forsake thee head nor heel,
Nor let evil come anigh.
69
Ten days after the sea battle, one of the Danes scrambled up the mast and hailed us to the sight of Miklagard, the Great Golden City. The call brought Lord Sadiq from his bed and, with Kazimain and Ddewi in attendance, he came to see the gleaming domes and towers of Constantinople.
Since the battle he had appeared often, if briefly, to walk the length of the ship a few times and take the air. On these occasions, he spoke to me-and through me to Harald-giving every indication of making a fair recovery. Though he still slept much of the time, striving to recapture his strength through rest, I formed the impression that he was indeed returning to health.
Standing at the rail, we watched the city emerge from the heat haze, shimmering atop its high-humped hills-like a dazzling white pearl couched on a bed of dusty green and grey.
"This is the much-vaunted City of Gold?" asked Kazimain. Owing to the presence of so many foreigners, she was forced to wear the veil continually, and though I could see her eyes, I could not discern the thought behind her words.
"That it is," I replied, and reflected how different this arrival seemed from the first. Then I had approached the city in fear and trembling, with dread in my bones, convinced that death awaited me the moment I set foot on the quay. Oh, but that was a different man from the one that looked out over the rail. The eyes that now beheld Byzantium belonged to a harder Aidan, stronger and more wise.
"I thought," Kazimain said, "it would be a bigger place."
Glancing to where the amir stood talking quietly to Faysal, I said, "Lord Sadiq seems very well. It is good to see him hale once more." Turning back to the glistering white of the city, we watched in silence for a time, my thoughts drifting inevitably towards events to come. After awhile, I said, "We are close now, Kazimain. Truly, I can feel it-justice lies within my grasp."
"You are so confident, my love."
"We have but to present ourselves to the emperor and reveal the plot against him, and our enemies will be destroyed."
"Allah alone shapes the future," Kazimain chided gently, moving away. "Only Allah may say what will be."
How wrong you are, my love, I thought, the future belongs to those who dare seize it for themselves.
I did not know whether Nikos employed spies, and if so whether they worked the harbours of Byzantium, but I considered it likely. In any event, the sudden appearance of three Viking longships would no doubt arouse some small interest, even among the jaded denizens of Constantinople. And while I did not care to warn our enemies unnecessarily, I could think of no way to avoid it; ships must come to port, and men must disembark.
Once again, I deemed speed our surest hope. If we could reach the emperor shortly after making port, we might strike before the foe knew we had landed; failing that, we could at least forestall any but the most hastily mounted opposition.
Still, it was a risk. After all we had endured, I reckoned it a poor exchange that we must trust fate and fortune to such uncertainty. As we drew nearer and the city loomed ever larger, its crowded harbours lining the stout walls, its famed seven hills rising above all, the thought occurred to me to change our approach.
"Jarl Harald!" I cried from the rail. "Make for Hormisdas Harbour!"
He regarded me with surprise but gave the command. As the ship swung around unexpectedly, the amir demanded to know why we had suddenly altered course.
I explained that since, so far as I knew, Harald's were the only longships in the emperor's employ, our arrival in the imperial harbour could but warn Nikos that we had returned. "We will attract the least notice passing among the foreign vessels of Hormisdas Harbour, and our arrival will not be marked if we use the Barbarians' Gate."
The amir grimaced at the term, but accepted my suggestion with good grace. "No doubt it is but a gate like any other," he remarked. "Humility also has its benefits."
We proceeded slowly into the crowded port, steeling ourselves for the impending confrontation. Alas, deeds taking place in Byzantium's black and twisted heart had long since rendered our small subterfuge a meaningless gesture.
Closer, we saw that the bay was heavily crowded-ships from every part of the world rode at anchor before us, thick on the water.
"I think something is wrong here." Harald scanned the clutter of masts cramming the quayside ahead-a veritable forest. "It is not as it was before."
At first I did not comprehend his meaning. The quayside appeared exactly as I remembered it. However, Dugal, standing beside me at the rail, confirmed Harald's observation when he said, "I did not think this place ever knew a moment's peace."
"Jarl Harald was just saying he thinks something is wrong, but I cannot-"
And then I saw it: the harbour was strangely becalmed. None of the sea-going vessels were moving. The lack of activity on the part of the larger craft had escaped my notice because the usual number of small boats still plied the clogged waters, busily ferrying passengers to and fro. These, however, accounted for the only movement in the harbour. All the big ships-and there were hundreds-remained motionless. I saw ships sitting low in the water, fully laden, but none were making for the docks to unload their goods.
What is more, the wharf appeared more than usually crowded; all along its length, people were thronged in dense knots, and swarmed around the gates, but the crowds, like the ships, were motionless, and I saw no one carrying cargo.
Turning back to the rail, I hailed the nearest boatman and, as soon as he had drawn near, inquired why none of the ships were docking or unloading. "The harbour is closed," the boatman answered. "And the gates."