By the time we had worked this out and washed and dressed, Roupen was waiting to escort us to the banqueting hall. 'I suppose you will be leaving soon,' he said as we walked across the inner courtyard.
Owing to the nearness of the mountains-whose sun-flamed peaks could be seen rising above the palace roof- the evening air was cool; the play of light and air put me in mind of a summer night at home in Caithness. Before the memory could result in melancholy, I pushed it firmly from me and reminded myself of my vow – now long deferred. 'As soon as may be,' I replied. I no longer cared about anything but returning to the pilgrim trail, and resuming my abandoned quest. 'Tomorrow.'
'You must allow my family to honour you sufficiently,' chided.
Roupen. 'After all, you two saved the prodigal son and have proven
yourselves allies of the Armenian kingdom. It would be ungracious
to refuse the homage of my people.' '
'I meant no disrespect. I only thought -'
'Peace, my friend,' Roupen replied lightly; I had never seen him so calm and self-composed. 'I spoke in jest. Of course, you will be allowed to leave whenever you like. But let us speak of all that later. Tonight, by Prince Leo's decree, you are to be lauded and praised in the ancient manner.'
'How is your father?' asked Padraig. 'Have you seen him?'
'He is very ill,' Roupen answered. 'But my return has cheered him greatly, and he asked to see me as soon as they told him I was home. Although we talked only for a moment, my mother says he looked in better health than she has seen him for many weeks. The royal physicians are hopeful that he is showing signs of recovery.'
'Good. I am happy to hear it.'
'God willing, my father will be able to thank you himself before you both rush away.'
'We told Thoros about Bohemond's plan to attack Anazarbus,' I said. 'He appeared to take the prospect with astonishing tranquillity. I do not think I could be so placid in the face of the impending destruction of my home and people.'
'That is his way,' Roupen replied. 'Thoros rarely reveals his true disposition to anyone. No one ever knows what he is thinking.'
We reached the entrance to the feast hall then; the doors were flung wide and we were met by the royal steward who bowed low and, in a loud voice, announced to the assembled guests and family members that Lord Roupen and his friends had arrived. We paused to receive the adulation of the gathering, and were then led through the noisy throng, our ears ringing with enthusiastic shouts. Many of the courtiers reached out to clap us on the back; my arms and shoulders were joyfully slapped and pummelled until the flesh stung and I feared my bones would crack.
Padraig and I were brought to the high banquet table where a combed, shaved, and freshly arrayed Yordanus was talking to an ill-at-ease Constantine; Sydoni, immaculate in a thin summer gown of shimmering green silk, was listening to a grey-haired woman with sad dark eyes. At our approach, the older woman held out her arms to Roupen, who kissed and embraced her, and then declared, 'Lord Duncan, Brother Padraig, I present my mother, Princess Elena.'
I bowed dutifully. She offered her hand, and I kissed it. Padraig likewise, whereupon she said, 'Words do not exist to express a mother's gratitude for the return of her lost son.' Her Latin was very formal, and slightly stilted. 'Yet, perhaps you will allow this token to adorn the hair of a lady you love, that when you see it, you will be reminded of one whose prayers you helped to answer.'
So saying, she reached behind and retrieved from the table two small wooden boxes. She gave one to Padraig, and placed the other in my nand and bade me to open it. Inside was a brooch and pin of gold; the brooch was made of a single large blood-red ruby surrounded by a ring of tiny blue sapphires which glittered with frozen starlight. The ruby was carved with a curious symbol-what appeared to be an orb borne between the wings of an eagle; the orb was surmounted by the Greek letter chi, forming a cross in the shape of an X.
Padraig had received a band of gold, the ends of which were shaped like two bird's heads-storks, or swans, I think-and between their beaks they clutched a glowing emerald. For size and lustre, the gems were the largest and most brilliant I had ever seen.
'My mother gave these to me, and I wore them on my wedding day. I do not know if priests in your homeland are allowed to marry -I am told that some do not. But I hope you will keep these gifts for the woman who bears you a son as kind and loving as my Roupen.'
'Nothing would give me greater pleasure, my lady,' Padraig said, and thanked her with a blessing in Gaelic.
'And you, Lord Duncan,' she said, tapping the box in my hand with her finger. 'Do you have a wife?'
'Alas, no Lady Elena,' I answered simply. I did not care to disturb the memory of your blessed mother, Gait. 'One day, perhaps, God willing.'
Sydoni, standing behind Princess Elena, caught my glance as I said this; her look of frank appraisal was disconcerting in its intensity.
'Then I will pray the woman you choose will wear it always in love and happiness,' Elena said. Pointing to the symbol carved on the ruby, she said, 'It is the seal of the Royal House of Armenia, our emblem for a thousand years.'
'Your gift is overwhelming, and I thank you, but it is too much,' I demurred, withdrawing from Sydoni's glance with more difficulty than I would have imagined possible. 'I merely accompanied your son along his way.'
The noble woman's expression became condescending. 'Come now, false modesty is as unbecoming as arrogance. Roupen has told me how you twice saved his life, and have been his guardian angel every step of the way.'
I saw that it would do no good to protest further, so I bowed again and, with burning cheeks, accepted my gift as graciously as I could. To my relief, a serving-boy arrived bearing a silver tray with wine in small glass beakers. Constantine took the tray and distributed the cups to our little gathering. Taking up one himself, he said, 'Let us drink to safe journeys and glad homecomings.'
We raised our cups and drank. The wine was sweet and good, and as we drank and talked, I felt myself begin to grow more easy in my manner. Every now and then, one of the other guests would come to the high table to be introduced to Padraig and me and make our acquaintance. Most often, Roupen did the honours; when a name or face failed him, Constantine or Lady Elena obliged. At first, I tried to remember all the names and faces, but there were too many, and not only did they all look alike to me, they seemed to be related to one another in extremely complicated ways so that after awhile it was impossible to tell one from the other.
More people were coming into the hall, and the sound of the crowd soon made speech all but impossible. So, I stood uneasily beside Roupen and his mother, holding my cup and gazing out upon the milling throng. Just when I thought the hall could hold no more, the doors were closed-which made the sound inside even more deafening.
There was a movement in the crowd, and Thoros suddenly appeared, pushing his way through; Nurmal followed in his wake. They proceeded directly to the high table, and greeted the Princess and other members of the royal party waiting there. As they moved from person to person, I noticed that both men were already well into the celebratory spirit. They laughed loudly, kissing everyone and clapping them on the back, their gestures grandiose and exaggerated. In short, they looked for all the world like men who have just won a fortune on a wager, or sailors with silver in their fists who have come into port after a long sea voyage.
I was not the only one to observe their ebullient behaviour. 'The roisterers emerge from their cups at last,' remarked Constantine; he leaned close and all but shouted in my ear. 'Now the festivity can begin for the rest of us.'