by Henry Treece
Maria Anastasia did not answer him. She felt her eyes were full of tears and did not wish to humble herself by weeping before this man.
So he said, ‘This dress they have given you to wear, it is not very becoming for one like you. It is more like rough striped sackcloth than anything else. It must be very trying to the skin. And that length of rusty chain which you wear as a girdle, surely you do not like that?’
Maria clenched her teeth and said, ‘No, I do not like it. But I do not like the perfume you are wearing either.’
The Curopalates was offended at this. He raised his eyebrows and began to sniff rather delicately. Then he said in a sharp voice, ‘When I visit such places as this, I use such a scent to protect my nostrils from plagues and pestilences. No doubt you are by now used to the smells of prisons and quarries, but I, I am glad to say, am still an admirer of cleanliness and decency.’
Maria put down her hammer and stood up with some effort because of the shackles about her ankle. She put her hands on her hips and said to him quite calmly now, ‘I too am an admirer of cleanliness and decency, Curopalates; but if I had to choose between the sort of people I have met in the quarry and the sort that mince about the imperial palace with their silver wands, then I would choose my friends down here.’
The official waited until she had finished, smiling with mockery all the time, then he said, ‘Between ourselves, it is my opinion that Byzantium will be well rid of you, child. I do not think that your ancestor Constantine Argyrus the Macedonian would have approved of you. In fact, with your crude habits and appearance, you seem to me to take after your other forefather, Basil Bulgaroctonus, the Slayer of Bulgarians! His hands were red like yours and I remember him in my youth. He always looked more like a peasant than an emperor.’
Maria said evenly, ‘If you have come here merely to insult me, my lord, then consider that your work has been well done and that you are now at liberty to go back to the palace and make your report. For I have no doubt that as with every other trivial thing in this place, a lengthy report will have to be drawn up by the scribes and then entered into the court records in at least three places.’
The Curopalates nodded and smiled. ‘Something like that,’ he said. ‘It is the custom and always has been the custom. So who are we to change the habits of our greatest of cities?’ Maria Anastasia said angrily, ‘I sometimes wish that the Turks’ would come into the Golden Horn and sweep all this ancient custom and habit away. It lies on us like a cold dead hand from the past and I find it sickening.’
The official bowed and said, ‘I will have such a note made in the records, my lady. It might be helpful for the emperor to know your considered opinion on the matter.’
Maria said, ‘The emperor is not interested in any opinion that I hold, my lord. Nor can you frighten me by threatening to tell him what I have said.’
The Curopalates stroked his long nose and smiled. He said, ‘In the present circumstances I think that the emperor might be very influenced by your opinions, my lady. Moreover, in those circumstances, the emperor would do anything rather than harm you, whatever you chose to say on any matter.’
Maria wondered why he spoke in this way; his next words answered her. He said, ‘Life does not stand still, my lady, however much it might seem to do so for one working here in such depressing conditions day after day. Let me tell you something which you may not know: long before you were born the Caliph of Cairo, whose name was Hakim, went mad and ordered the destruction of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. After that he proclaimed himself to be God and so his subjects very properly got rid of him.’
Maria said, ‘I have heard all this many times before. You did not have to come so far on a hot day to tell it to me again, sir.’
But the Curopalates smiled and said, ‘Have patience, lady. There is a new part to the story which even you have not yet heard. His Most Serene Majesty, Michael Catalactus, has recently made a pact with the present Egyptian caliph and has been given permission to rebuild the church over the grave of Jesus Christ. Is that not good news? Do you not rejoice that once more our pilgrims will be able to travel to Jerusalem under imperial protection to say their prayers in a church rebuilt by Greeks?’
Maria said, ‘Of course. There is no need to ask. But I can see by your face that you have more to tell me. What is it?’
The official nodded and said quietly, ‘Do you think that pacts are made as easily as all that, child? Do you not know that there are often small conditions made between great princes when a pact goes forward?’
Maria now felt her legs trembling as though they would let her down. She said, ‘These conditions - do they affect me?’
The Curopalates nodded. He said, ‘You and certain other ladies of Byzantium are to go to Egypt at the caliph’s request.’
Then Maria flung herself down on the pile of stones she had been working at and began to weep bitterly.
The official raised his eyebrows again pityingly and said, ‘It is not every young woman who is permitted such an opportunity to travel in these times. You have the satisfaction of knowing that the emperor approves of your journey, and that the caliph will look after you as befits a princess of the imperial house. Who knows, child, if you are amenable to Saracen ways, one day you might rise to be an important person in the world. He has many sons, and to have a Macedonian princess once more in power in Egypt would be a great advantage to Byzantium. No doubt, with your great learning, you will recall that Cleopatra was also a Greek of sorts. Our fame and heritage are ancient and wide-flung. When you have had time to think of what I say, you will bless the moment I walked into this stone quarry. Now I will leave you.’
He went away, but Maria did not raise her head to watch him go, picking his way carefully with his long wand. Instead, she wept and wept until her tears ran over the stones she had hammered earlier, and two African slaves came from their own heaps of rubble to stare down at her in wonder. She kept crying out, ‘Harald, oh, Harald Hardrada.’ But the two Africans knew no language but their own, so shook their heads at last and left her to her solitary weeping.
26. The Hunt Begins
Word came to Bouid from one of his spies that General Maniakes had set himself up in the fortress of Catania, almost in the shadow of the great fire-mountain, and was daily gathering more and more men about him, including many wandering Norman knights.
When Harald heard this he said, ‘There is no time like the present, friend. Your army and mine together could put an end to this Greek.’
But Bouid stared down at the mosaic tiles and said at last, ‘That was my dream, to ride with you, brother. But now I hear that the King of Tunis has sworn to burn me out of Syracuse and is getting ready to send a fleet against me. His harbour lies only a hundred miles from here and, with the right wind, he could be knocking on my door before Catania fell.’
Harald slapped him on the back. ‘That is no reason for making such a long face, brother,’ he said. ‘Such things could happen to any general. You must stay here and beat back the Tunisians. I will go with the Varangers and give short shrift to Maniakes on my own. After all, it is my quarrel and not yours.’
But Bouid looked hardly any more pleased at this. He said, ‘The fortress there is a very ancient one, with walls that have grown thicker in every century. It would need many strong siege-engines to bring down such walls and as I am placed at the moment I scarcely dare let my catapults out of my sight,’
Again Harald laughed. ‘Friend,’ he said, ‘even if you dared, I have no men who could work them. We Varangers travel light and fight light. We are not engineers. So set your heart at rest, beat off the Tunisians, and we will put our longswords to the work in hand and come back to you as soon as we have the head of Maniakes on a pole to show you. Is that well?’
Bouid nodded sadly. ‘It is as well as can be expected, brother,’ he said. And so, the following day, the Varangers set out towards Catania, carrying little with them in their journey up the coast of Sicil
y.
They arrived at twilight on the second day and set up camp near the river Simeto, meaning to make their first assault just before dawn on the morrow. But when they came in sight of the castle Wulf blew through his cheeks and said, ‘We have as much chance of getting into that stone beehive as an Iceland dog has of dancing an Irish jig.’
But Gyric of Lichfield shook his head and said, ‘I have certainly not come as far as this just to look at the place and then go home. I shall walk round the walls and see what I can see. Then perhaps I will teach you Norsemen something you did not know before.’
Eystein Baardson came up just then and said laughing, ‘Watch how you go, Lichfield. They have three hundred archers on top of that wall, waiting for someone like you to step within range.’
Gyric gave him a hard look and answered, ‘When I get an arrow in my jacket, that will be the first time, friend.’
The Varangers watched him go and saw the bowmen on the walls making ready; but Gyric passed out of sight beyond the walls without a bolt being loosed off at him, although the men on the walls called out all the time, inviting him to step a little closer.
Gyric was away all day and by sunset some of the Varangers had begun to make wagers on him, laying odds against his return. But just after the red sun fell behind the Hybla mountains, Gyric came back into camp with a grim smile on his face, footsore and very thirsty.
Haldor went to meet him and said, ‘I see three holes in the skirt of your mesh-shirt. They look very much like arrow-slits to me, friend.’
Gyric shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘Aye, that is what they look like. In my great thinking about this fortress, I happened to turn my blind eye towards the walls three times. It is at such time that one may walk against briar thorns and rip one’s shirt.’ Harald called out, ‘Less of this bragging, Gyric. Come and tell us what you have learned.’
So Gyric sat by the fire and drank three cups of ale before he would say another word. And when he did, he said, ‘Well, I have prowled right round this place and have stood on a little hillock that gives a good view of the roofs.’
Wulf said, ‘That is most interesting, friend. And were the tiles of pretty colours?’
Gyric said starkly, ‘There are no tiles. All the roofs are thatched, dearest of comrades.’
Then Harald said, ‘No doubt your grandmother the witch would know what to make of that, Gyric, but as a plain soldier I must confess that you have baffled me.’
Gyric cut himself a piece of beef and placed it on a thick slab of barley bread and began to munch. ‘All that walking has given me a great appetite,’ he said. ‘I could eat a horse.’
Wulf said then, ‘If you do not speak some sense very soon we shall find a horse and keep you to your word, if we have to ram it down your stupid throat.’
Then Gyric laughed and answered, ‘Very well, little vikings, if your own frozen brains won’t give you the answer, then mine must. I have been watching the roofs of Catania all day while you have been lying in the sun boasting about your old victories. And what I have noticed is that this place is not a beehive, but more like a home for birds.’
Wulf began to say something then, but Harald waved to him to be silent, and Gyric went on: ‘I have never seen so many birds at one time in my life before. They fly in and out of the thatch in all places.’
Then there was a long silence, for the Varangers had all clustered round the fire to hear Gyric’s words, and now they looked at one another in bewilderment.
So Gyric turned towards them and said, ‘You are a brisk set of fellows, my friends. Let each one of you who knows how to catch a bird hold up his right hand.’
Then, amid much laughter, five men put up their hands and Gyric said, ‘Very well, my friends, then waste no more time but get about your trade and fetch in as many birds as you can before night comes down on us too heavily.’
So the men went away, with nets and cloaks and anything else they needed; and when they had gone, Gyric said to the others, ‘Now all of you scout round and bring back to me thin twigs of resinous wood, and any jars of oil or cauldrons of pitch you can lay your thieving hands on.’
Then he went back to eating more meat and drinking more ale. And when he had satisfied his hunger and thirst, Harald said to him, ‘I have been in a few battles in my time, but never in one where the fighting-men were set on to catch birds.’ Gyric looked at him wickedly and said, ‘We learn something every day, if we keep our eyes and ears open, do we not, Harald?’
He would say no more. But later, when the men came back with the netted birds all fluttering and squawking, and the others had laid down their heap of small dry twigs, Gyric said, ‘Now I want the men with the nimblest fingers to take twine and to tie the sticks on to the birds’ legs and tails, put a light to the wood, and send these little creatures back home.’
Harald shook his great head and went away to sit down beside Eystein. He said to the old sailorman, ‘I do not know who is the bigger fool, Gyric for thinking up such a scheme, or myself for letting him do it. But, what is certain, by tomorrow my name will be the one that sets all men laughing from coast to coast throughout Sicily.’
But even as he was talking he saw a rush of fire across the sky, moving towards Catania. And shortly he saw a roof burst into flame and heard a great deal of shouting from the high walls.
And while he was still staring in bewilderment at this, another house took fire, then another and then another. And soon the whole of the fortress was blazing from the roofs downwards.
Then Gyric strolled over to the brazier where Harald stood and said, ‘We may not get into this place, captain; but those who are already in will be most anxious to get out before an hour has passed.’
And he was right. In much less than an hour the great gates swung open and townsfolk came streaming out beyond the walls. From where the Varangers waited, their swords drawn, they could see the stones of the fortress growing white and chalklike and could hear some of them splitting up with a loud noise.
Then Gyric said smiling, ‘Are we ready to move in, Harald?’
And that is what they began to do, each man keeping his eyes open for General Maniakes. But when they were a bow-shot from the walls, a party of men-at-arms came out holding their swords by the points to show that they were of a peaceful mind. They were led by a Greek lieutenant whom the Varangers knew well and who flung himself on his knees before Harald and said, ‘My lord, such as is left of this place, we surrender to you.’
Harald glared down at the man and said, ‘It is not this burnt-out heap of rubble that I have come for, but your General Maniakes. Tell him to come out and stand before me.’
The young lieutenant rose and spread his hands. He said, ‘My gracious lord, that is not possible. When he saw that the flames could not be put out, the general escaped from the far postern in a beggar’s cloak and riding a fast horse. I beg you, be merciful to the townspeople here, they have no quarrel with you.’
Harald said grimly, ‘I have never punished townsfolk yet for what the soldiery have done. But I shall change my habits this night unless you tell me faithfully where Maniakes has gone. By dawn the folk of Catania shall learn what it is to lock their doors against a Norseman.’
Then the lieutenant wrung his hands and said at last, ‘I have no alternative. Though I betray my general, I must tell you where he is, for I am a Christian and could not go to my grave with the lives of so many innocent citizens on my conscience.’ Wulf took out his sword and held it at the lieutenant’s throat. He said, ‘Let us have the news we want, not a sermon. We are not in Hagia Sophia now, friend.’
The Icelander’s face was so red and fierce and bristling that the Greek fell on his knees once more and clasped his hands. ‘Have pity, my lord,’ he said, ‘and I will say a prayer for you every night of my life from now on.’
Wulf said starkly, ‘Save your breath, youth; I would rather know where Maniakes has gone.’
‘Then,’ said the Greek, ‘I must tell you. Our g
eneral has gone across the mountains to Licata, where the Tunisians are gathering and have promised to side with him.’
‘Good,’ said Wulf, kicking the lieutenant over, ‘then we will also go to Licata. Why should this Maniakes have all the amusement in this world?’
27. The Tunnel at Licata
But the journey over the mountains to Licata was not the pleasure that Wulf had said it would be. There was much hard climbing to do, under a harsh sun, and up sharp rocks that tore through shoe-leather and left feet raw and bleeding. Besides, since the Varangers travelled light to make good speed, they carried small provision with them and, since there were few houses and no villages on the upper slopes of the mountains, after the third day Harald’s men began to wonder if they had been wise to follow Maniakes after all.
When at last they reached the ridge and looked down on distant Licata, the Varangers were more like parched scarecrows than warriors. Few of them could walk without groaning and all of them limped. If Maniakes could have met them then, on the mountain-top, he would have found but slight difficulty in putting an end to their hunting.
Then, by good luck, the weather changed suddenly. Heavy black clouds settled low over the mountains and without warning thunder and lightning burst forth, and then the rain came down as though it would never stop. The Varangers stood in the downpour, letting themselves get soaked to the bone, even lapping up the water as it flowed down their sun-scorched faces. Some of them began to dance like bears and to give thanks to Thor for sending his lightning; but Harald quickly put a stop to this by reminding them that they were Christians and not heathens any longer.
