The gold-lust was on them now; they leapt to the oars and began rowing toward the shore. I crouched beside the mast, leaning against the solid oak for strength, praying the Kyrie over and over under my breath. "Lord, have mercy! Christ, have mercy! Lord, have mercy! Christ, have mercy!…"
All around me, men, gleaming hard in their war array, bent themselves over the oars, driving the ships to the rhythm of our swift-beating hearts. With every dip and pull of the oars, the hills of Byzantium drew nearer.
Harald Bull-Roar stood on his platform, feet wide, swinging his war axe over his head and calling cadence to the rowers. Deep voice booming like a drum, he bellowed, banking his warriors' courage high, inflaming their blood-lust with crude exhortations:
"Cold strake cuts wave!" he cried. "Axe-Wielder swiftly glides! Curved hull pushes wave! Sword-Striker hastens to the weapon storm!
"Doomed skulls roll! Severed limbs twitch! Hungry death delights in the battle banquet!
"Come, wolf! Come, raven! The meat-feast awaits! Drink deep of the red cup in the Worm King's hall!"
Raving like a madman, the king roared, whipping himself and his men into a battle frenzy.
"Gold-Giver, Ale-Pourer, Rich Provider, I am Jarl Harald Bull-Roar! Attend me Corpse-Makers, Hewers of Men, for I will deliver wealth into your hands. I will cause rivers of gold to flow over the Champion's feet, and showers of silver to fall from the skies!
"Steel-Clashers! Sword-Breakers! Widow-Makers! Hasten now to glory. Follow your Wealth-Thrower to the Hero's Hearth where cool gold quenches battle heat. Fly! Fly! Fly!"
Faster and faster we flew, the knife-edge dragon prow slicing through the calm water. Did ever a man hasten so to his death?
Constantinople, unsuspecting in the milky dawn, drew ever closer-as if it were the city flying towards us rather than the other way. I seemed to see death sweeping nearer with every oar-stroke, and yet I could not take my eyes from that place. The closer we came, the larger it grew: a colossus, a seven-humped wonder on its vast splayed thumb of a peninsula thrust into the sea. Soon I could see the dark seams of streets like tangled cords winding among the masses of square white dwellings. A filthy pall hung over the heights-smoke from hearthfires beyond counting, drifting, coiling, gathering in a thick brown pall of billows.
We drove swiftly on, making directly for the nearest landfall. Even from the sea, however, we could see the city's high protecting wall rising straight from the water. Harald was not dismayed; he directed the ships onward for a closer look. But what he saw dashed cold water on his overheated scheme. For, rising up like a sheer red cliff-face from the water's edge, stretching out of sight to either hand, encircling the entire city stood a thick curtain of brick and stone ten men high. On the water below, small tenders ferried tradestuff to and fro along the waterfront.
One look at the size and extent of Byzantium's wall, and the Sea Wolves faltered. I could feel the shock of discovery course through the ship like the tremor of an unexpected wave. Harald bawled for the longships to halt, and suddenly rowers were dragging their oars in a desperate attempt to slow our forward flight. The last vessel did not receive Harald's command until too late, causing it to collide with the one just ahead. A dozen oars on both boats were snapped and broken, and rowers cursed and writhed in pain, clutching injured limbs. The resulting confusion brought howls of outrage.
Ignoring the fuss, Harald, standing high on his platform, scanned the wall. Some of the small tenders, seeing our sudden approach, hastened to draw near, jostling among themselves to be the first to reach us-thinking, I suppose, that we had trade goods to unload. Each would be the first to provide this service.
As the tenders drew closer, the men aboard hailed us in Greek. It had been long since I had heard this language spoken aloud, and it sounded strange in my ears. Still, I was able to pick out a few words and phrases from the thick gabble of voices.
Suddenly, angrily, Harald called out to me. "What are they saying?" he demanded.
"They are offering to unload our ships," I replied, moving to the rail. "They say they will do this for fifty nomismi."
"Unload our ships!" the king cried. "What is this nomismi?"
"I do not know-money, I think."
"Tell them who we are!" the king commanded. "Tell them we have come to sack the city. Tell them we are after wealth and plunder."
Leaning over the rail, I called to the nearest boat in which two men with white woollen caps stood beseeching us loudly. I told the men that these ships belonged to Lord Harald, who was a fierce warrior, and that we had come from Daneland in search of wealth. The boatmen laughed at this, and called to some of their friends in other craft, who also laughed. I heard the word barbari relayed from boat to boat. They then told me how matters stood in the emperor's harbour.
"What do they say?" asked Harald gruffly, his patience wearing thin.
"They say everyone comes to Byzantium seeking wealth," I answered. "They say there are no more berths in the harbour, and you dare go no further unless you are prepared to meet the guards of the harbour master."
"To hel with their harbour master," growled Harald. Whirling away, he ordered the rowers to proceed up the channel along the northern shore.
We continued on our way, more slowly this time, and accompanied by a score of small craft, each with boatmen shouting and hailing us in shrill voices. Numerous vessels, large and small, thronged the way and it was all Thorkel could do to steer us through the obstruction without colliding with one or another of them. Hence, we proceeded with much shouting and cursing and waving of arms, using the oars as much for shoving other craft out of the way as for rowing. The commotion accompanying our tedious progress was deafening, the upset complete.
The ships had not travelled very far, however, when we came upon an enormous iron chain. Fixed to gargantuan rings set in the wall, the chain-each link as big as an ox!-stretched across the entire channel from one bank to the other, closing the waterway to all larger craft. Small boats could pass easily under this chain, but the longships of the Sea Wolves were halted within sight of many fine houses and several palaces.
Perplexed, frustrated, Harald Bull-Roar, King of the Danes, gaped at the chain in disbelief. Not knowing anything else to do, he ordered some of the warriors to destroy it. Leaning from the rails, the barbarians began chopping at the nearest links with their axes. The attack made no impression on the ponderous barrier, and the men soon gave up altogether. Even prodding it with oars, they could not so much as make the great chain swing.
King Harald commanded his pilot to turn the ships and follow the shoreline south, thinking to find some weakness in the city's defences the other way. The rowers renewed their labour, although with somewhat less zeal than before, for the inner waters were far more crowded with ships and boats. Pushing through them all was a torturous tactic, but the Sea Wolves persevered, and eventually rounded the peninsula to find a busy port with not one but three or more harbours, and the largest of these was, like the rest of the city, protected by high walls.
Harald ordered Thorkel to make for the first of the harbours, and we soon came within sight of the quay, but could go no further for the number of ships and small craft jamming the harbour entrance. The king was still puzzling what to do next when a large, square-hulled boat approached. This boat contained ten or more men dressed in fine red cloaks, and carrying spears and small round shields; they wore ornate helmets of burnished bronze on their heads, and short red breeches which ended just above the tops of their tall leather shoes.
The foremost man of the group was a short man who made himself appear taller by way of a high horsetail crest on his helmet; he stood at the prow of their boat holding a rod with a bronze ball on the end. This fellow began hailing us and gesticulating with the rod; those with him called out in loud angry voices.