The Betrothed Sister

by Carol McGrath

  She listened as he breathlessly told her, ‘There are no boats on the river, save Pereiaslavl vessels. Far to the east, across the river … smoke from cooking fires curling into the skies …’ Edmund paused for breath. He had confirmed her worst fears. ‘Sister, there is an army out there. I have the same uneasy feeling I had in Wessex when a Norman patrol was approaching. We must get inside the city gates as fast as we can.’

  She remembered another time ten years before when she was almost caught by a Norman army. She had been approaching Exeter with Alfred, the sword forger, seated precariously on his fast-moving wagon. They managed to enter the city’s western gate just in time but were besieged inside for several weeks. Now her first thought was for her children. ‘Edmund, then we must get the children inside the fortress quickly.’ She hesitated. ‘But wait, could you actually see warriors? Do you think it is an army on the move? Could they just be a caravan camping on the Steppes, grazing their herds?’ she asked, holding a desperate hope in her heart that this was the case.

  He shook his head. ‘It will be the army that Princess Anya’s messenger spoke about when she ordered us into Pereiaslavl. You know as well as I how terrible that will be for the fortress and, indeed, all of us, unless we are sent an army from Kiev to break a siege. Why would so many soldiers guard the bridges over the river into the city if those smoking fires were innocent?’ Edmund glanced up at the sun which was slowly crawling down the sky. He looked back at her. ‘If we hurry we can be safely in the fortress by sunset.’

  His speech was interrupted by a complaint from the first wagon. Harold had woken up and was demanding to ride his pony.

  Edmund dismounted and walked his stallion to the wagon. ‘No, not now, lad,’ he said firmly. ‘You will stay in there with your nurses and your brother. Urchin will slow us up. Your step-grandmother is expecting you before nightfall.’

  The dark look on Edmund’s face clearly frightened young Harold. He buried his face in his nurse’s mantle. Katya peered out from the cover’s shade where she was seated inside with little Iziaslav and Gudrun and her girls. Edmund began to explain that there was an army out on the Steppes. ‘They are far to the east and the river between us and them is a half-mile wide. We are safe, Katya, for today.’

  As he tried to reassure her, Katya gave the toddler over to his nurse and scrambled forwards. She squeezed in on the wagon’s broad bench beside the driver, a frightened-looking, sharp-faced man who kept a tight hold on the horse’s reins. Peering towards the river, screwing up her eyes, she looked quizzically at Edmund. ‘I can see nothing.’

  ‘They are too far away, for now. Do not fear, Katya.’ He frowned at the driver. ‘Don’t look so terrified, man. The enemy are across the river. They are not coming for you.’

  The driver muttered something incomprehensible but remained worried.

  That driver is a sack of grain, Thea thought to herself. He can drive at the back of my line of wagons next time. If there is a next time.

  Edmund remounted his horse, ‘We need to get going again. If the children need to eat, they can eat and drink as we move. No more stops between here and Pereiaslavl.’

  Thea shouted at the frightened driver to move on. She flicked her whip impatiently and led the long line of wagons, horses and guards forward. Edmund sent scouts out again but this time he stayed with his sister. For the rest of the afternoon the riders came galloping back to Edmund reporting that all was as it had been at noon. They reported that they had met a messenger from the city who said that Padar the skald was returned from trading and awaited his wife in Pereiaslavl.

  ‘Where is this messenger?’ Thea said, looking beyond them.

  ‘We sent him back to the fortress to say that you were on your way, Princess. They will keep the gates open past dusk if necessary.’

  ‘You did well. Go and tell Gudrun now. She will be overjoyed.’

  I wish that Vladimir was there too, Thea thought, as the rider went back to tell Gudrun this unexpected news.

  As they came closer to the city Thea felt an uneasy sense of impending doom. The river was unusually quiet, though they passed others approaching the city on horses, with carts filled with sacks of grain and families on foot carrying bundles, leading children even though the Cumans were too distant to be an immediate threat. If she looked hard she could see that all the bridges north and south of Pereiaslavl were guarded and secure. This included the small bridge they must cross at the river’s southern bend which took them over a tributary of the Dnieper so that they entered the city through a water gate.

  Thea breathed her relief. This tributary exited through a similar channel cut into the city’s north-western walls. The small river divided the city into two sections connected by humped bridges. It also ensured Pereiaslavl’s water supply. The city possessed many deep wells. Peasants with carts filled with turnips and barrels of apples pulled their wagons to the side and, bowing their heads, silently waited for Thea’s armed and protected cavalcade to pass through the water gate. One cart carried cages with small birds. Their chirruping eerily reached out into the late afternoon shadows. It was clear to them all that Pereiaslavl was preparing for a siege.

  Their horses clattered over the bridge on the river’s bend just as church bells began ringing for evening Vespers. The city stockades rose high, one behind the other to protect those fortunate enough to escape inside the fortress before the Cumans attacked their villages. Thea glanced up. Warriors in chain mail had positioned themselves on the palisade walkways. The city’s two great towers appeared impenetrable. They called the tall outer tower the Wolf Tower because a wolf pennant always flew from its battlements. The further one, even taller, the Oak Bear Tower, dipped its wooden feet into the great Dnieper where it swung close to the far outer northern stockade. The names appealed to Thea’s imagination.

  The fortress city slanted like one of Aristotle’s parallelograms towards the west. Two small square towers stood on the south-western corner and at the north-western turn of the battlements. She saw lookouts and guards up on all of the fortress towers visible from the southern route into the city.

  Once they had passed over the water gate, they entered the city through the first strong gate of three set into the outer stockade. Thea glanced back. Across the wide Dnieper, on the eastern horizon, smoke curled up into the sky from encampments. Shuddering, she knew in her bones that the enemy would not be retreating for some time. They could be besieged in Pereiaslavl for weeks.

  Passing through the city’s three southern gates did make her feel more secure. Their children would have protection. Her ladies would be safe. The last gate banged shut behind their wagons, their twelve riders and the limping kulak company that followed in their wake. Their carts rumbled over a wide paved road, past gawking citizens who were pushing barrels through their yard gates and building up sacks filled with sand by their fences. By the curiosity that showed on their faces, Thea could see that they were not sure who she actually was. She had deliberately chosen not to fly her well-known banner with its stork on a blue background. With only a dozen riders to protect her journey she could be attacked out in the woods, taken as prisoner by roving tribesmen and sold for ransom or into slavery.

  The great keep itself was situated on the northern side of the town. A high, covered walkway connected it to the city’s Oak Bear Tower. It was with a sense of relief that she rode at the head of her cavalcade in through the gates of the wooden-built keep and they had no sooner entered a second courtyard than Princess Anya appeared, accompanied by her steward, Lord Michael, Ivan Ilyich who was the castle’s governor, and Padar. Servants followed, bearing copper basins of water and linen cloths so that they could cool their faces and wash their hands before entering the castle.

  Gudrun leapt from the wagon and ran to Padar. Ceremony was forgotten in that moment as he held Gudrun close. Though she was not tall, she was a little taller than he. He reached up and kissed her and she bowed her head to reach his mouth. Moments later their small dau
ghters had clambered from their wagon and had surrounded him. Watching Padar forget the presence of the Rus nobility to kiss his wife publicly and Padar’s children throw themselves into his arms, Thea’s throat constricted. She longed for Vladimir. She bit her lip and, steeling herself to be brave, she acknowledged Padar with smiles. She bowed to Governor Ilyich who suggested that the princess’s brother, Edmund, should accompany him to the comfortable chambers he was to occupy. Steward Michael helped settle Harold by taking a soft, damp, linen cloth to wipe the little boy’s face and hands. Thea smiled her widest smile as she threw herself into Princess Anya’s arms. All ceremony was indeed forgotten in those moments and Thea felt a great relief overwhelm her.

  ‘Thank the saints, you have arrived safely. Come inside and eat. You must be famished,’ Anya said after they had embraced.

  Thea found sleeping places within the fortress for her household. She settled her exhausted children and their nurses in a chamber close to her own but Katya was to share her own comfortable chamber. Leaving Katya to unpack their baskets and travelling coffers, Thea hurried down the wooden staircase that kept turning at sharp angles as it descended and searched for Anya. She discovered her in the blue-tiled antechamber with Edmund, just as they were breaking off a meeting with Governor Ilyich, and a general whom she introduced to Thea as Lord Luke.

  After he bowed to take his leave, the general said, ‘Should Pereiaslavl come under attack, we can defend it. We have enough grain, meat, milk and water to withstand a siege here until help reaches us.’

  ‘Should,’ Princess Anya said in a clear voice. ‘Even the townspeople are preparing for a siege. The country kulaks have descended on the city today in great numbers to swell its population. Surely you mean, when we are attacked? Loaves of bread will not stop them bringing their ballista and trebuchets to destroy our walls.’

  ‘We hope to keep them away from our walls, my lady.’

  ‘You have not enough men.’ She turned to Edmund. ‘Tell them what your scouts have observed. If the Cumans move closer to our city we must be better prepared.’

  Thea and Edmund added their concerns to Anya’s own. Edmund said that the army out on the Steppe was enormous.

  General Luke said, ‘I am waiting for my spies to return. They will estimate their numbers.’

  Anya said curtly, ‘I sent a messenger to Kiev days ago and he has not returned. I hope your scouts will keep their distance from the enemy. If they are captured they may be forced to reveal our weaknesses.’ She stood and faced her general. ‘So, my lord, we must wait on your decision on our strategy. Make it soon. We may be defending our city within days. I shall send my personal guards into the town to oversee preparations for a siege. They can take an account of what provisions the monasteries have.’ She lightly touched Thea’s shoulder. ‘Come, Thea, we shall collect Katya and the children. I promised you supper a long time ago.’ She glanced at the hour candle. ‘At least two notches of that candle have burned down since. Supper will be served in my terem chambers tonight. Best to keep all as normal as we can. The general has much to discuss with Edmund and with his captains.’

  Thea felt Anya’s firmness and her strength. Despite the pervading tension in the fortress, Anya was organising everyone. She was arranging food and medicines to be carried to the fortress from the monasteries and defences inside the city. Thea could not but feel admiration for her.

  After supper, the steward, the city’s patriarch, Padar and Edmund met in the cool blue-tiled hall again. To her chagrin Princess Anya was not invited, nor was Thea.

  They sent the nurses, children and Katya away so that they could converse in private.

  ‘This is the way of men. They think we have nothing of value to contribute to a discussion,’ Princess Anya said as they walked through the moonlit garden.

  Thea sank onto a stone garden seat. She had no sooner sat by a sheltering palm tree than the resident parrot, Signor Tomas, echoed Anya’s voice, causing her to jump up.

  ‘The way of men,’ it parroted. ‘The way of men,’ it squawked over and again, as if trying to ram the message home. Thea peered up into the palm tree above and covered her ears with her hands. ‘How can you stand that parrot?’ she asked, irritated beyond belief.

  ‘He can be amusing sometimes,’ Anya began to apologise. ‘A diplomat brought him to us from Aragon. I shall have him removed.’

  She hurried to the doorway that led back into the terem and called for a servant to catch Signor Tomas and shut him up in his cage. For a moment they watched the creature’s removal, grateful and annoyed in turn, but relieved to discover laughter as the man enticed Signor Tomas down with a fruit. He placed the bird in a huge cage which two servants carried between them through an archway out of the garden.

  ‘At least he was quietened by a fig,’ Thea remarked. ‘Thank Heaven that bird is gone. Remind me never to keep a parrot.’ Anya laughed again and their mood lightened.

  Although they had the garden to themselves, they spoke in hushed tones.

  ‘Will we survive an attack, do you think?’ Anya asked. ‘I feel abandoned here and the children …’ There were tears in her eyes. She was obviously feeling very stressed. Thea took Anya’s hands in her own.

  ‘I hope so. I don’t think Prince Vsevolod suspected that the Cumans were on their way south. Vladimir was anxious, but only a little. He said we would be safe in the fortress if the Cumans raided the countryside. I don’t think he expected them to attack the fortress city itself. Surely we can protect ourselves until messengers break through and he sends us reinforcements?’

  Anya took her hand away and made a steeple of her hands, leaning her chin on them thoughtfully. ‘If messengers reach Kiev.’ She glanced up at Thea with a hopeful look in her eyes. ‘We do have our own troops, just not enough.’

  Thea thought for a while. She jumped up. In the distance she could hear shouts.

  ‘It is the guard changing, up in the two towers. That is all,’ Anya said.

  Thea sat down beside Anya again. ‘Thank heaven that is all.’

  The night-time scent of lilies and jasmine permeated the garden. For a few heartbeats Thea breathed it in, half-listened to the night and drifted into thought. The evening had now closed protectively about them. Something was occurring to her, a far-fetched thought but she couldn’t let go and it refused to leave. It was something Katya had once told her. At last it grew into spoken words. ‘You know, I believe I have an idea.’ Thea clasped and unclasped her hands. She leaned over, resting her chin on them. She looked up and turned to face Anya. ‘It is possible we can destroy this enemy completely.’

  ‘How can we without help from Kiev?’

  ‘No, listen to me, Anya. We can if we must.’

  ‘I’m listening.’ Anya looked at her quizzically.

  ‘You know that Katya says her father is on his way …’

  Anya broke in, ‘If he is sailing from the Black Sea ports he will be turned back far down the river. The rest of the trading vessels have all been turned back for their safety. How can the merchant possibly help?’

  ‘She says he knows many secrets.’ Thea leaned closer to Anya. ‘Listen, I have been thinking just how. Katya once told me that her father knows the secret of liquid fire. He used to experiment with it. I was thinking how we might avoid a siege if we made it and sent it into the heart of the enemy.’

  Anya’s eyes opened wide in amazement. ‘How can he know such a secret?’

  ‘If not the whole secret, he certainly knows something of it. He can make explosions.’

  Anya’s eyes became as wide as two great ponds. ‘Does Katya know how to make explosions?’

  ‘I asked her that question years ago when she was talking of it. She knows the ingredients her father has used for liquid fire. I think not his formula, however.’

  ‘That is the point, you see.’ Anya sighed. ‘Many know the ingredients but not the formula. Then there is the method of dispensing such a weapon, even if her father does know the formula. A
nd we would have to have those ingredients here in the fortress or nearby. Even so, it would be much too dangerous. If that explosive mixture hits water we could destroy ourselves.’

  ‘It does not have to hit water!’ Thea exclaimed, clutching onto Anya’s arm with excitement at a new thought. ‘It can work if we fire it from the water at the enemy. We can fire it before they get a chance to cross our bridges and lay siege to us.’ She clutched Anya’s arm even harder. ‘If we entice the enemy south beyond the bridges, we can use fire against them. I am sure we can. We can send it out from the ships and make them flee. Our horsemen could come down from the north bridge and attack them from behind. They will want to cross the bridges. We must make them think the south bridge is not so well protected and tempt them towards it. There is a valley cutting into the hills from the east bank of the river just beyond the water gate. I saw it today as we rode from the south-west.’

  Anya replied, ‘Trap them in the eastern valley!’ She laughed. ‘What a strategist you are. It is a good plan and it sounds simple. Perhaps it is too simple.’ An owl hooted. Anya looked beyond the trees towards the tower. ‘That is a good omen. The wisdom of owls, that was thrice it hooted, I believe,’ Anya said, glancing up towards the top of the terem tower. Looking back at Thea again, she said, ‘You may have something here. A part of our cavalry and infantry would draw them down the river. The other part would need to encircle them once they began to flee. There would be much noise and terrible smoke.’ She voiced another objection. ‘Our horses would panic and toss their riders.’

  ‘Our throwers can mask their horses. A flask of water and a damp cloth will do that. They must stay back once they hurl the fire at the enemy.’

  ‘The riders hurl the fire?’ Anya looked surprised.

  ‘Yes, they can. It has been done that way in ancient battles. My father spoke of them. They hurl it in pots. They ignite a taper from the pot first and then they throw it into the enemy. Assuming we can make the liquid fire and get it into clay pots, we aim accurately and from as much distance as it will allow because if we do not, we destroy ourselves as well as the enemy.’