The Road to Miklagard

by Henry Treece

  Harald looked him in the eye. ‘Captain,’ he said quietly, so that only his immediate companions heard his words, ‘is the unpleasant duty to do with a certain lady from Jebel Tarik?’

  For a moment, Kristion stared back at Harald as though he did not know whether to punish him or not. But at last he nodded slowly.

  ‘I have the Imperial warrant here,’ he said, touching the roll of paper with the seal, which they had last seen in Irene’s hand that morning.

  Then, before the three could frame another question, or even think of what they should do, Kristion formed them up and led them out of the main gate.

  The sentry sprang smartly to attention as they passed and raised his javelin, crying, ‘May good fortune ever smile on Her!’

  Kristion nodded curtly and said, as he returned the salute, ‘May She prosper!’

  But Harald, who marched nearest to the Captain, noticed that as he spoke those words, his thin lips curled in bitterness.

  As the squad marched on through the darkening streets, Harald stole a glance at Haro, who stared back and suddenly made a gesture of running his forefinger across his throat and nodding towards Kristion, who was gazing ahead. But Harald shook his head; Kristion had already been too good a friend to them.

  At the end of the first narrow street, they came out into a small square, surrounded by high white buildings and edged with dark trees. At the base of each tree, and huddled in every archway, figures lay wrapped in robes, shrouds, lengths of sacking, anything that could be put to that final and dreadful purpose. In the middle of the square, a great brazier smouldered, throwing off the thick smoke of sulphur and casting a lowlying cloud of yellow vapour, which hung head-high across that forlorn place.

  Kristion halted his squad and half-turned to them.

  ‘The plague has struck heavily here,’ he began. Then he gave a short gasp and put his hand to his forehead suddenly, knocking off his light ceremonial helmet. The Guardsmen gazed at him in bewilderment and saw the beads of sweat break out on his olive skin, the light froth which gathered at his lips of a sudden, flecking his dark beard. As they watched him, he swung round as though trying to avoid a blow, then staggered away from them and fell, breathing harshly, against the wall.

  Harald ran towards him, ‘Captain,’ he said, ‘what ails you?’

  Kristion looked at him as though he were a stranger, or as though he could hardly see. Then he shook his head and tried to smile.

  ‘Viking,’ he gasped, ‘it is the wish of the Most High, Irene, that I strike off the head of the girl, Marriba, tonight. She commanded me to take a squad and see that this was done … That is why I chose you and your friends, and those two who owe you something and will obey you …’

  The Captain’s voice failed him for a moment, as Harald said, ‘But Kristion, I could never have helped you to do such a thing, you know that.’

  The Captain of the Imperial Guard slid down the wall until he rested on his knees on the pavement. He looked up at Harald and smiled.

  ‘I know that well enough, my friend. That is why you are here with me now,’ he said weakly.

  Then slowly and with fumbling fingers, he untied the purple sash which was his Captain’s emblem, and held it out towards Harald.

  ‘Viking,’ he said, ‘I am a sick man, I know that; I have seen too many smitten with this plague not to know the signs of death. Take this sash and put it on. Then go forward and do as you think is right in this matter.’

  Harald took the sash, wondering at the Captain’s courage, and slowly wrapped it about his waist.

  Kristion, the great Captain, watched him with a still smile, then, raising his right hand in salute he croaked, ‘Hail, Captain of the Guard in Byzantium!’

  As he finished his greeting, he fell forward on to the stones of the pavement and lay still. Haro ran to pick him up, but Harald waved him away and said, ‘There is nothing that we can do, my brother. It is the will of whatever God he prayed to. Let us go quickly and take advantage of this change in our fortune.’

  As the others moved away, Harald stooped and patted the Captain Kristion on the shoulder, as though he were alive again and knew what was happening.

  Then he hastened on after the four Guards.

  21. Marriba’s End

  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 o
n 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 o
ver 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.’