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Harald saw how they meant to wear down his men, or perhaps through frustration to draw them into a fatal blunder, so he signalled his men to retreat to the ships and make their stand on the riverbank. There, with backs to the solid oak hulls, they stood to face the feisty Patzinaks.

When the foemen saw that the Sea Wolves would no longer be drawn into the open, they soon lost interest in pursuing the fight further. But, far from discouraged, they simply changed their stratagem; retreating a short way off, they held council and elected an envoy to proceed under the sign of the willow branch.

As the envoy approached, the king motioned me to him. "We will speak to them, you and I," he said. "Though I think we will hear little to our liking."

When the Patzinak party had come within fifty paces, they halted and waited for us. The king, ten of his house karlar, and myself went out to meet them. The king, frowning mightily, scanned the ranks of foemen, sharp disdain furrowing his brow and making his lip curl.

Up spoke the envoy's leader, uttering an unintelligible stream of gibberish. When this produced no effect, he tried another tongue, which was, if anything, even more incomprehensible than the first. Seeing that neither of us understood him, he abandoned this speech and tried yet a third: "I give you good greeting, men," he said in sorry Latin.

This I understood well enough and replied in kind, telling Harald what he said.

"We see that you are not afraid to fight," the envoy continued smoothly. "Therefore, it has pleased our lord to allow you to pass through our lands unmolested."

I repeated his words to King Harald, whose response was ready. "Your lord has a most peculiar way of expressing his pleasure," the king grumbled. "Yet, I have been worse hindered. Fortunate for your lord and for all who follow him that I have lost no men, for we would certainly be having a very different manner of discussion at this moment."

"That is indeed true, Your Greatness. For this, you can thank my lord, who ever extends his hands in brotherhood to those who desire his friendship." The envoy, a slight dark man who was missing most of his right ear, paused, smiled affably, and added, "Of course, such friendship is best established with due and proper consideration." He rubbed the palm of his right hand with the fingertips of the left.

"It seems to me," replied Harald, once I had conveyed the envoy's words to him, "that your lord extends his hands for a more tangible reward than brotherhood alone."

The envoy smiled and shrugged. "The demands of friendship are many, and not without obligations of their own. A man of your undoubted eminence must certainly find this to be so."

King Harald shook his head when he heard this. "They are cheerful thieves," he told me. "Ask them how much silver it will take to establish this bond of friendship between us."

I asked, and the envoy answered: "It is not for me to say, Gracious King. Rather look at your men and ships and weigh their worth in your sight. As you are a man of obvious rank, I am certain you will behave accordingly."

Harald considered this and summoned one of his karlar who hastened back to the longship, returning on the run with a small leather bag. Reaching into the bag, the king drew out a silver armband.

"This is for friendship," he said, placing the silver in the Patzinak envoy's outstretched hand. "And this," Harald continued, reaching in again, "is for the friendship of my men." He placed a smooth-polished yellow gem in the envoy's hand. "And this," he said, reaching into the bag a third time, "is for the future good will between our peoples should we happen to pass this way again." He placed a green gem beside the yellow one, then closed the bag and passed it back to his man.

"I would have thought," said the envoy, peering disappointedly at the objects in his hand, "that a man of your estimable worth would have placed a much higher value on the friendship between our peoples."

"I desire only the merest acquaintance," was Harald's retort. "I do not wish to marry your lord or any of his people, agreeable though they may be."

The Patzinak envoy did not like this. He sighed and pulled on his chin, gazing at the loot in his hands and shaking his head sadly from side to side as if he were contemplating a tragic mistake. "I am loath to believe," he said at last, dropping the treasure into the bag at his side, "that your new friends hold so little value in your eyes. I fear it is most distressing. No doubt when my lord hears of the small esteem in which you hold him, he will require additional blandishments."

"How foolish of me," replied Harald upon my relation of these words, "I have forgotten to mention that in addition to the silver and gems which you have so swiftly hidden from sight, I am also giving you and your wealth-lusting lord the gift of your lives." The Sea Wolf king paused to await the effect his words would have; and when the envoy raised protest against this line of reasoning, Harald said, "What? Do you place so little value on your own heads?"

With that, he drew his axe and prepared to signal his men to renew the fight. The Patzinak envoy gaped at him and said, "Now that I understand you better, I am amply persuaded of your earnest desire for our friendship. Therefore, I will endeavour to present your generous offer to our lord. Still, I would remind you that you must pass this way again when you return home. And I would beg you to consider well what manner of welcome you wish to receive upon your return."

"Let us find what we find," growled Harald, growing tired of the game.

"Then go your way," the Patzinak envoy said. "I will tell my lord to prepare the welcome you deserve."

"That is my fondest wish," replied Harald, drawing his thumb along the edge of his axe.

"So be it." With that, the envoy signalled to his men and they withdrew at once.

"That was well done, jarl," said one of Harald's men. "Will they attack again do you think?"

"I think not," replied Harald. "We have purchased safe conduct this time. But we are forewarned: next time it will be more costly."

Returning to the ships, we prepared to continue on our way. By day's end all four ships were once again in the water and drifting peacefully downriver. As the moon was bright enough to steer by, we did not rest, but continued on through the night. Daybreak found us far away from the Patzinak lands, and well beyond the last of the obstacles standing between King Harald Bull-Roar and the City of Gold.

PART TWO

May the Everlasting Christ

Go before you all your days,

And take you in his loving clasp,

Whether braving storm-torn Western seas,

Or treading death-dark streets in

The Golden Cities of the East.

26

The Black Sea, so far as I could tell, was no darker than any other I had seen, and when the sun shone the surface of the water gleamed like polished jade. But the sun was a rare visitor, for the days were often grey and the dawn mist which lay thick on the water now remained well past midday. Still, the air was warmer than I would have imagined; and if it grew chill at night, when the sun shone it grew almost pleasant.

By what I could see from the longship's rail, I reckoned we had come to a land of tight-clustered hills. The hills, rising dull brown beyond the cragged shore were not high, but they were dense with small, shrubby trees and thorny bushes. Sometimes I glimpsed bony sheep picking their way among the prickly branches, searching for food, but I did not see any people.

Harald, considering his fleet more than a match for any foe, proceeded boldly, sailing by day and coving at night. One evening the wood gatherers returned to camp with some of the peculiar sheep: tall, rangy, thin-haunched, long-necked, with mottled fleeces of brown and grey-more goat than sheep, to look at them. We slaughtered the beasts and put them to roast on spits over the campfires. The meat was strong and tough, and the burning tallow made our eyes water. None of the men could stomach the fare. Even Hrothgar gave up after a while, saying his belt would be more tender, and would no doubt taste better. After that miserable meal, no one troubled the sheep any more.