As I expected, he was not happy. After a simple, if somewhat austere greeting, he bade me sit down, and said, "Kazimain has told me that you two are not to be married. While I doubt neither her word nor her honour, I would hear it from your lips also."
"It is true," I replied. "I have broken my vow, and we have parted."
Sharp disapproval pursed the amir's lips into a frown. "That is not how Kazimain put it," he informed me, "but as this is a matter between a man and a woman, I will not interfere if your mind is made up. As to that, I offered to persuade you to change your mind, but Kazimain does not wish it." He paused, trying to read my thought from the expression on my face.
When he spoke again, he said, "There is a place for you in my court. I have need of a man of your considerable abilities. Stay with me, Aidan, and I will see that you rise to your rightful estate." He paused. "You need not marry my kinswoman to gain my favour, you have earned my highest esteem many times over with your exemplary deeds and character."
"I fear you flatter me too highly, Lord Sadiq," I said. "And your offer is tempting, but I cannot accept it."
The amir nodded silently, accepting my decision gracefully. "What will you do?"
"Return to Eire," I answered. I would complete the pilgrimage, see it through. That, at least, I could do.
"Forgive me for saying so, but though you return to your home a thousand times, you will not be happy there anymore," the amir warned. "You have seen too much of the world and its ways to hide away in your monastery."
"You may be right," I conceded. "Still, it is my home."
Sadiq gazed at me, and seemed to soften. "I wish you well, my friend." He rose, signalling an end to our talk. "Still, if you should ever come again to Samarra, you will find me ready to receive you and resume our friendship."
"I am grateful, Lord Sadiq. But my heart is hungry, and will not be satisfied until I have seen Eire again."
"Go in peace, Aidan," said the amir, raising his hands in blessing. "May Allah, Wise and Merciful, make straight your path and protect you from Satan's wiles, and may the Lord of Hosts grant you peace in his celestial palaces forever." Placing his fingertips to his forehead, he then touched his heart, saying, "Sala'am, Aidan, and farewell."
We ate together for the last time that night; the amir insisted on providing a feast to send us on our way. The rafiq and the monks attended and the talk was light and pleasant-Faysal and I were kept busy translating for everyone. All through the meal, I looked for Kazimain to join us, but the evening ended and she did not appear.
Nor did I see her the next morning when Pietro's man collected our few bundled belongings and we left the villa for the waiting ship. Though we had made our farewells the night before, Faysal insisted on accompanying us to the wharf. He said it was to make certain that we did not get lost and fall into misfortune. Just before I climbed aboard, I offered Faysal the Qadi as a parting gift, but he refused, saying that if I ever returned to Byzantium again, I would certainly need a good knife. Crossing his hands over his chest, he bowed, and bespoke the peace of Allah for our voyage. He then stood on the quayside watching us until we passed from sight.
That was the last I saw of any of them.
76
I will say nothing of our homeward voyage-save that it was at every point the opposite of our outgoing journey. The ship was both stout and swift, the weather warm and mild, the company of Pietro and his crew, cordial-even the food, which the Venetians prepared with skill and exuberance, was more than agreeable. Thus, we enjoyed comforts I had not imagined to exist among seafaring folk.
Though we urged the sturdy little ship's master to put first into their home port for the sake of his cargo, he would not have it any other way but that he delivered us safely to our destination as agreed. The more we tried to persuade him, the more adamant he grew. "You," he declared, "are my foremost concern. I will not rest until you are once again among your brother priests."
Again, I wondered how much Harald had paid to secure this kind of treatment-and what accompanying threats he might have added as further inducement-but, as there was nothing to be done, we simply sat back and allowed the days to drift pleasantly by…until one morning, Pietro came to us and said, "If you would like to see your homeland once again, follow me."
We made our way to the prow where he pointed to a low-rising blue eminence floating on the horizon. "There is lerne," he said. "You must tell me now where you wish to make landfall."
We held council, and decided that Brynach had the best reckoning of the Irish coast, so he should guide the ship to our destination. This he did, and by nightfall we had reached the bay at the mouth of the Boann River.
Rather than tempt the rocky shoreline at dusk, Pietro dropped anchor in the bay and waited until morning. We passed an excruciating night-within shouting distance of our cherished homeland, but unable to cross over until morning.
When dawnlight finally came, we proceeded slowly upriver to Inbhir Patraic and made landfall at the wooden wharf. "See now!" cried Dugal as his feet touched the planking. "We have crossed three seas without so much as getting our feet wet!"
Indeed, in light of our previous voyage, it was a remarkable achievement. We all agreed that our Venetian shipmates were fine sailors, and praised them extravagantly, much to their delight. Pietro liked the look of the settlement, and decided to stay a day or two to trade. He asked if we would translate for him; "I will pay you handsomely," he said. "You have been good company aboard my ship. I would like to do this for you."
Bryn thanked him and said that, tempting though his offer might be, we had been away a long time and were anxious to return to the abbey which still lay two days' walk inland. "Yet, where trade is the subject," he added, "I think you will find that, with the people hereabouts, silver speaks for itself."
We bade farewell to Pietro and all his men in turn, and then climbed up the twisting, narrow path to the clifftop where we were greeted by a small crowd of folk who had seen the ship and gathered in anticipation of news and trade.
The head man pushed his way forward to welcome us. An expression of honest astonishment appeared on his face when he realized who it was that stood before him. "Hoo!" he cried. "Look at you now! Look at you! Returned from foreign lands as hale as the day you left!" Glancing around quickly, he searched among us and then scanned the cliff trail and wharf below. "Michael bless me, where are the others? Where are all the rest? Are they coming after?"
"Greetings, Ladra," Brynach answered. "Yes, we have returned-we four alone. Alas, no more will be coming after."
This caused a ripple of comment through the crowd. Ladra looked from one to the other of us, and said, "Well, well, however it may be, welcome home. You have much to tell, and we would hear it gladly."
"That, I fear, must wait a little," Brynach replied. "Our first duty is to make our return known to our brothers at the abbey. The day is good and we are well rested; I think we must make for Kells straightaway."
Ladra's face fell, and the people groaned. Pointing to the wharf below, I said, "There stands a man with ready silver. Would you keep him standing on the wharf until he grows weary and sails away to find more willing traders elsewhere?"
This caused a mild tumult as the people hastened down to meet Pietro and make him properly welcome. The resulting commotion allowed us to slip through the crowd and proceed on our way unhindered by hospitality, however well-meaning. Shouldering our various bundles, we started off.