Ambrose, Prince of Wessex; Trader of Kiev.

by Bruce Corbett

  "By Odin's balls! You are right, Polonius.' His eyes swept the deck, and fell on a warrior working in a wool shirt. 'You!"

  "Aye, Jarl?"

  "Strip off your shirt, man! I need it. Captain, find me some cooking oil. And I need a fire. Have the cook start one up, immediately!"

  The first wagon was now half-way across the channel. Five of its draft-horses were dead, but the cable to shore still stretched taut, and the wagon crept inexorably forward. Four logs pressed against the rope barrier, but it held.

  The giant crossbow on Dir's karve thrummed twice, and the huge darts struck the wagon both times. Sullen flame crept upward and the warriors on the wagon stripped off their clothes, dunked them in the river, and beat madly at the fire.

  Dir turned to Polonius. "Well, my friend, it caused trouble, but it looks like they can get it under control. And you can be sure the next wagon will have buckets."

  "The problem is not the concept, Jarl. We just have to get more flammable liquid to the target."

  "Polonius, tell me you have an idea!"

  "Well, Jarl. What about if we removed the spearheads and mounted a bottle instead."

  "A bottle filled with flammable fluids! Captain, we return to the island. Polonius has to search through our supplies. We are not done destroying Pecheneg wagons yet!"

  "And, Jarl, do you have a really good swimmer in your ranks?"

  "Why do you need a swimmer?"

  "That rope barrier has to go. I was thinking that a midnight swim might help solve the problem."

  On the third day after the Varangians started using Polonius' incendiary spears on the wagons, a Pecheneg envoy stepped out onto the sandbar, carrying a freshly painted white shield.

  Dir watched idly from the deck of his command ship, and turned to Askold. "I do believe I recognize that man. Isn't he the one who told us we had to surrender or face having our town brought down around our ears?"

  Askold smiled. "I do believe it is. Do we want to talk with him?"

  "Sure. Why not?"

  "Captain, send a boat for that Pecheneg officer. Bring him aboard."

  "Aye, Jarl."

  Dir smiled at the envoy as he clambered up the side of the sleek vessel. "I remember you. Have you come to threaten us some more?"

  "If I had my way, your town would have been levelled by now, but my master is generous. He is still prepared to negotiate."

  "Negotiate. I do not know what we have to negotiate about. Some weeks ago I told you that you had five days to clear out of our territory or we would close the river to you. You besieged our town, and we held you off. You attacked our army in open combat, and we decimated your men. Now we are destroying wagon after wagon, and there is not a damn thing you can do about it. What do we have to negotiate?"

  "Make no mistake, Rus. Our men are still camped around Kiev, and the Great Khan has more than enough men to send north to overrun your puny walls."

  "Of course you do . . . if you wish to abandon your women and children to the tender mercies of the Ghuz and the Khazars. We both know that they will be arriving soon. And I have enough men here to keep the ford closed for as long as I wish."

  "We cross when we want. You cannot stop us, Rus."

  "You may be right, Pecheneg, but we can destroy perhaps half of the wagons when you do, and each crossing costs you more dead warriors. Without the wagons, how will you get the women and children across?"

  "Khans of the Rus, I have not come to argue with you. I have come to speak my Khan's words to you."

  "Then speak, Pecheneg, and be brief. We have more wagons to destroy today."

  "My Great Khan, in his infinite wisdom, has agreed to withdraw the men from Kiev if you, in turn, will withdraw your forces to Kiev. We will cross in peace, and be out of your country in less than a week."

  "The Khan is surely generous. Kiev is quite safe from you. It may be that you should worry about the men you left there. The paths through the forest are long and narrow. There is much to fear in the forest, where your gods cannot see you."

  "The Great Khan will agree to a peace treaty, guaranteeing that we will not again invade your country."

  "Pecheneg, you tried. You couldn't take our main towns. You couldn't defeat us in open battle, and now you can't even get across the damned river! Give me one good reason why we should agree to a treaty."

  "Khan, we still have over twenty thousand warriors! If the Great Khan wills it, we have the means to devastate your land."

  "Then try it. Burn our towns while the Khazars and Ghuz are raping your women and killing your children. In a few weeks we will be buying your women and children in wholesale lots, for shipment to Byzantium."

  "My master told me to tell you that we must cross the river."

  "We know that. We also know that you are running out of time."

  "Name your price, Khans. If it is reasonable, we will consider it."

  "Pecheneg, you are asking us to betray our allies the Khazars. They are good friends to us, even now protecting our fleet of ships south of here. They would be very angry if we let you escape."

  The Pecheneg officer took a deep breath. "The Great Khan is aware of all that you have said. What is your price?"

  Dir turned to Askold. "Cousin, could we even consider betraying our own overlords?"

  "It would be a foolish thing to do, Askold. Only a very large quantity of gold would even make me consider it for a moment."

  "And jewels, cousin. My wives love jewels. Very large jewels."

  The grizzled warrior looked from one to the other. "Have the two khans yet agreed to a price?"

  "What you ask is foolish for us even to consider. The Khazars would punish us severely if we let you go. Perhaps with enough gold we could dissipate some of their anger. We would thus need enough to placate them, to compensate the thousands of widows you have made, and, last, but far from least, to make it worthwhile for us. The Khazars would be very generous if they had found that we had prevented your crossing. And they would sell us the women and children cheap."

  "The Ghuz, cousin. You forgot the Ghuz!"

  "We dare not forget them, cousin. They have not been civilized by Jehovah yet. They are a savage tribe who would definitely wish to punish us for letting the Pechenegs escape. It would take much gold to placate them."

  The envoy gritted his teeth. "I await your answer, Khans."

  Askold smiled. "Then let it be this. We trust in the Great Khan's generosity. Our people are to be freed. Have your khan gather what he thinks is sufficient gold to pacify the Khazars, the Ghuz, us, and to compensate us for the deaths and damage our empire has suffered. If the pile is sufficient, then we will cease hostilities . . . oh yes, remind him of our rapacious women. They will need to see many fine jewels."

  "And the peace treaty between our two nations?"

  "We do not need one. If you return to the land of the Dnieper, we will finish the job we started in the last few weeks. Do I make myself clear?"

  The envoy sighed. "Perfectly. I will carry your words to my master."

  Ambrose watched the small boat return the envoy to the sandbank. He turned to Dir. "You expect a lot of gold, Jarl. Do you really think the Khan will pay a vast sum?"

  Dir shrugged. The Khan can give us half of his treasury and escape, or watch the Khazars and Ghuz take it all, along with the women and children. I think we offer him a bargain."

  "What will it take to placate the Khazar and Ghuz leaders?"

  Dir grinned at Ambrose. "You are an excellent warrior, Canuteson, and a better-than-average-officer. But your grasp of politics is still a little naive. Polonius, what is the answer to Canuteson's question?"

  "It is my guess that not so much as a single copper coin will be paid to either the Ghuz or the Khazars. If the Jarls pull this off, they will probably never again be in a position to have to pay tribute to anyone. Kiev will be feared and respected the length of the Dnieper, and even more men will flock to its banners. It will also, not incidentally, have a large enough
treasury to buy men and weapons in time of need."

  "Well put, Polonius. I couldn't have said it any better myself. And, knowing that, would you pay any tribute to our Khazar overlords?"

  Polonius nodded. "I might consider a generous present to the Khazars."

  "Why so?"

  "They protect the steppes with the blood of their young men, and could easily cut off the vital river trade if they so wished. It might be expedient to placate the Khagan with a gift, but it would be a gift from equals, not from a vassal."

  Dir smiled. "Truly it is said, even in the far north, that the wily Byzantines are the masters of intrigue."

  CHAPTER 30.

  Kuralla.

  The remaining Pecheneg forces around Kiev withdrew rode south. Dir and Askold, after filling ships almost to overfilling with gold and precious stones, ordered the southern army to return to the city on the bluffs.

  The fearsome nomads disappeared as if they had never been. Only the gold, the jewels, the widows and the ashes reminded the Rus and Slav allies that Kiev had faced a mighty nomad horde.

  Hard riding scouts returned from the southern steppe country west of the river to report that the Pechenegs were now far to the southwest and attempting to settle on open steppes claimed by the Magyars.

  The Rus and Slav allies spent the rest of the fall rebuilding ruined villages and strengthening fortifications. In spite of the rampaging Pecheneg hordes, more Rus families had slipped down the river from the north. As well, boats from other Varangian tribes had sailed south on the spring crest. On their return north, seeing that the nomad menace had ended and that Kiev was securely in Varangian hands, some of the adventurer traders chose to winter there.

  Kiev's location was extremely fortuitous. It was both an easily defended point just north of the grasslands, and near the point where the Slavs and Varangians traditionally gathered in spring for the dangerous run south through the rapids and across the open steppes. Further, trails from the Far East brought laden caravans to the river bank.

  As the newcomers arrived, the Varangian warriors and families were assigned villages to watch over, and billet with for the winter. After the departure of the Pechenegs, there was little excitement. Most of the Slavs in the area submitted with no further resistance. In spite of their sometimes harsh rule, the northerners had proven that they were capable of defending their new subjects.

  Ambrose had become concerned about Polonius. He seemed morose and stared at nothing for hours at a time. The prince poured both him and Phillip a horn of ale and sat down beside him.

  "Here you are, scholar . . . I must tell you that I am worried about you. You are not yourself. What is wrong?"

  Polonius sighed. "You are right, Master."

  "Then out with it! We are your friends."

  Polonius mumbled. "There has been something much on my mind."

  "Then spit it out."

  "I had meant to talk to you about it . . .It is just . . .'

  He took a deep breath. 'Prince, I would like to discuss a boon with you that has great importance to me."

  Ambrose stared at him, surprised at the almost shy quality of speech emanating from this normally silver-tongued mouth.

  Bemused, he yet responded. "Speak on, my friend, and if the boon is in my power to grant, consider it given."

  Polonius plunged on. "I would ask of you, if you could find it in your heart . . . to sell me the lady Kuralla . . . whom I crave to take as my wife."

  Ambrose looked at him very solemnly. Ambrose spoke softly.

  "My good and faithful friend, it is with great anguish that I tell you that I cannot accede to your request.

  Nay!' he said, for he saw Polonius preparing to grovel at his feet. 'Do not kneel to me, but let me tell you why I say what I do."

  Ambrose spoke on. "The cost of Kuralla is not relevant between you and me. I would in any case make that a wedding present to you, yet there is another, more severe problem here."

  Suddenly Ambrose swivelled on his bench and turned to face Kuralla. "Kuralla, would you please come and stand before me?"

  Ambrose looked into the beautiful woman's eyes. "Kuralla, do you wish to marry Polonius?"

  "My lord!' she uttered softly. 'A slave girl has no feelings save that of her master."

  "Then let me rephrase my question. Kuralla, if you were allowed to marry, would you marry Polonius?"

  "If that could ever be, my lord, I would be honoured beyond my imagination."

  "Kuralla, what did I tell you the morning after I bought you?"

  "That I was free, but I replied that I could not stay in the village."

  "And what did I tell you just before we left Novgorod?"

  "That I was free, but I chose to follow you here."

  Ambrose took her hands in his. "Kuralla you have been both faithful and obedient, yet you have not been a slave since the morning after your father was killed. You may do as you please! I will give you both a dowry and my blessing if you wish it, but you do not need my permission to marry my best friend in the world!"

  Polonius explained to Ambrose how he felt about marrying Kuralla. "I am a Christian, Prince, but there are no Greek priests in Kiev. I do not really understand much of Kuralla's beliefs. She mentioned the need to revere her ancestors, as well as various animals, yet she in the same breath mentioned Perun, the god of thunder and lightning."

  "Polonius, you could always ask Askold if he would, in his capacity of priest, perform the marriage."

  "Yes. I will then pray that the One True God will understand that it could not be a priest of His that said the magic words. I want someone official to say the words, however, so that we can be committed to each other for ever. I have to tell you, Master, it is a strange feeling, for I have never before voluntarily taken on such a commitment, and yet I feel only joy."

  As Ambrose and Polonius were walking to the trading factory, Polonius turned again to his friend. "Once, Ambrose, a wise man of the Franks told me that the attraction between a man and a woman is an instinctual one. He said that it provided the woman and her offspring with a life-long willing slave who provides food and security in return for the occasional grudging use of her body. I can only say now that the wise man had obviously never known such a woman as Kuralla!

  While I know it to be true that marriage provides benefits for the woman that she otherwise might not have, yet the man is in turn provided a willing servant, who, after a long day of labouring on his behalf, then keeps him warm at night. Nay, more! A wife is a friend and companion, to share all of one's life with."

  Polonius and Kuralla had a simple marriage ceremony, and Ambrose was more pleased than words can say that most of the settlement came to see them wed. As Kuralla was now considered the free daughter of a Slav chief, even the local Slavs paid her the compliment of coming. Some even came from a considerable distance to pay their respects.

  After the ceremony, Polonius and Kuralla spent some time alone in a little house that Ambrose, Phillip, Polonius and some hired hands had built in haste. Several days passed after their marriage before the happy couple stepped forth.

  Polonius sat at a table in the shop which sold mead to the merchants and soldiers of Kiev. The three had put in a long day at the trading factory, and were taking a well-deserved rest before heading home; Ambrose and Phillip to their shared quarters, and Polonius to the little house he shared with Kuralla. The thin Byzantine looked across at the Saxon prince.

  "Ambrose, now that the Pechenegs have fled and the trading factory is functioning, what are our plans?"

  Though they could not be seen from where they sat, Ambrose knew that several of Gunnar's river karves floated at anchor off their private dock located directly below the bluff. It was less than a year since the Pechenegs had attacked, but the town, and the trade, had grown enormously.

  The Novgorod post had sent several ship-cargoes south on the spring floods, and two more arrived shortly after, having come directly from Gunnar and the Rus tribal lands. Ambrose
was hard-pressed to contract adequate crews to deliver the cargoes to the waiting merchants in Constantinople. The river settlements absorbed more and more Vikings. The empire of Kiev grew daily. Settlement after settlement of Slavs bowed to the fierce Varangian warriors, and Varangian traders were quickly becoming masters of immense territories.

  Ambrose thought about Polonius' question. "Polonius, the weakest link in Gunnar's trading chain that stretches from the Varangian to the Black Sea is the Constantinople link. There wily Greek merchants take delivery of the northern goods, and sell the goods on consignment for Gunnar. In return, they buy for us the commodities eagerly sought after in the north.

  The ship captains then bring the payment, or cargoes that Gunnar has in turn contracted for, across the Black Sea and back up the Dnieper River. Now that we have established a permanent trading post in Kiev, it is this trading factory that receives the cargo or payments from the south.'

  Ambrose looked across at Polonius and Phillip. 'I feel, my friends, that altogether too much of the profit doesn't make it back up-river. I know that the Khazar and the Byzantine authorities take their prescribed amount, but they are generally scrupulous in their taxation."

  Polonius smiled. "I suspect, Prince, that they have no wish to kill a goose that lays golden eggs for them."

  Ambrose replied. "It seems to me that the Greek merchants are taking altogether too big a cut. Still, Kiev is the key to the trade. Someone has to stay here and ensure that the ships of Gunnar are able to sail north or south, as needed. Someone has to ensure that provisions and funds are available."

  Polonius sipped on his horn of mead. "I think, Master, that you are telling me that Kiev is going to be our base of operations, at least for the next little while."

  "Polonius, I think that this post is the key to the river trade. If Kiev falls, the already dangerous run across the steppes would be far harder. We promised Gunnar that we would take care of his merchant house on the southern rivers. I can see no better place to do this from than right here. This is a growing town, and I think we are in an exceptional position to grow with it.

  Are you thinking that we should head south to Constantinople? It is true that we need to eventually do something about our dishonest agents there. Far too much of the profits seems to stick to their greedy fingers."