I prayed to the Heavenly Father to do with me what he would. I also prayed that I might somehow be spared aiding King Harald in his odious scheme of theft and slaughter. Having struggled through all things to remain a good monk worthy of the Cele De, I did not wish to begin a life of crime now-so close to the Judgement Seat, as it were. Far better, I decided firmly, to die opposing Harald than to approach the Throne of Heaven reeking of sin, with the blood of innocents on my hands.
It came to me that this was how I would die-with the king's sword at my throat, as punishment for refusing to accompany him ashore. The thought produced not fear, but despair, for it seemed a cruelly meaningless end to life. God be praised, my despair was short-lived. Jarl Harald considered scouting duty beneath him, preferring instead to remain on the ship awaiting our return. "Three of my karlar will serve me in this," he said, and turned his attention to choosing who should go.
He summoned the man who had suggested paying the harbour tax-his name was Hnefi, and the king trusted him for the sagacity of his advice; Harald also called forth a warrior called Orm the Red, who, in addition to being adept with sword and spear, was light of foot and stealthy. The king was on the point of selecting the third member of the party when I suggested that it might serve our purpose to have at least one warrior I knew and trusted, who could speak to the others should the need arise.
Harald, his patience growing brittle once more, asked if I knew such a man. I told him I did, and named Gunnar. "Very well," the jarl agreed impulsively, "let Gunnar Warhammer go with you."
Thus, we four found ourselves clambering over the side of the longship and into one of the many small boats still jostling one another for our service. Dropping into the boat, I told the boatman that we desired to be put ashore at the nearest city gate.
"A wise choice, my friend," the boatman said agreeably. "Rest yourself and worry for nothing. You will soon be there. My name is Didimus Pisidia, and I am at your service. You have chosen well, for this is the best boat in all Byzantium. I will pray to God your wisdom is rewarded a hundredfold."
"I thank you, friend Didimus," I replied, and confided that as we knew nothing of Constantinople, we would be grateful for any guidance he might be able to offer.
"Ah, you are the most fortunate of men," the boatman replied, "for you are in the presence of one to whom the city is a Garden of Delight. You may place your full confidence in me. I will certainly give you the best guidance you could desire, never fear."
Hnefi and Orm dropped into the boat just then. Orm, supposing it his duty to show me my place, pushed me roughly aside. Unsteady in the small boat, I fell against the side. "Say nothing!" he warned. "I am watching you."
Gunnar, coming behind them, interceded for me, saying, "Let him be, Orm. He is the king's slave, not yours."
"Tell this man to take us to the nearest gate," Hnefi ordered, settling himself in the bottom of the boat.
"I have already done so," I replied. "This is what I was doing when Orm struck me."
Hnefi nodded curtly. "I am the leader now," he said. "You will do what I tell you." He gestured to the watching Didimus and said, "Now tell this worthless fellow to get about his work or we will gut him like a fish."
To Didimus I said, "We are ready to proceed now, if you please."
"It is my pleasure," answered the boatman, pushing away from the longship with his hands. "Sit down, my friends, and worry for nothing. This is the best boat in all Byzantium." He took up the long oar at the stern and, standing with his foot on a bench, waggled the oar back and forth. The boat turned and drew away from the longship.
Those watching from the rail called out for us not to carry off all the treasure, but to save some plunder for them. Orm answered by blowing his nose at them, and Hnefi told them their time would be better spent looking to their weapons than worrying about us.
Gunnar settled himself beside me against the curved side of the boat. "Why did you choose me?" he asked.
"I thought it might be helpful to have someone I could trust beside me." As he made no reply, I asked, "Why? Would you rather have stayed behind, Gunnar?"
"Nay," he answered with a shrug, "that is no concern of mine." He looked out at the city for a moment, and then glanced at me sideways. "I thought you might have a different reason."
"Quiet!" snarled Orm. He kicked me with the toe of his boot.
"Orm," said Hnefi, "I am the leader here. If you cannot remember that, I will leave you in the boat while we go and find the treasure."
Orm grumbled and took out his knife and began polishing the blade on his breecs. To me, Hnefi said, "Keep your mouth shut. When I want you to speak, I will tell you."
I turned my attention to the city, bobbing nearer with every dip and stroke of Didimus's oar. From the water, very little of Constantinople could be seen-only where the hills raised their heads did I mark any of the city behind the walls. These walls, however, were most impressive. Brick and stone in alternating courses had been used to create an enclosure both high and stout, and bearing a distinctive red-and-white banding, making it like no other wall I had ever seen. Along the top of the wall, people were moving-city guards perhaps, though I was too far away to be certain. Here and there, I could see the tops of trees-a few pines, and the bare branches of others which had lost their leaves.
The sea came up to the very foundations of the wall, allowing only a very narrow causeway which served a varied collection of stone and timber quays, large and small, new and old; around each of these, ships clustered like feeding piglets crowding one another at the sow.
And such ships! I saw vessels with two and three masts, and some with more than one deck. There were so many different coloured sails, I quickly lost count-and the cargoes of the ships were even more varied. I saw bags and chests, casks and jars and baskets beyond number. Sure, if a boat could carry it over the sea, it would be found in Constantine's city.
Didimus steered a snaky course through the clotted harbour; we passed along the unending quayside, dodging the larger boats and searching for a place to make our landing. As we drew nearer the quays, I became aware of the stink. The water grew foul with garbage and excrement, and refuse of all sorts, for the slops were continually tossed overboard into the bay. This fulsome effluent made for a ready stench as potent as any I had encountered.
Our boatman seemed not to mind, however; he worked the oar with his arms, smiling and singing the while, pointing out any of several landmarks when it occurred to him to do so. Orm and Hnefi watched him with low suspicion and ill-founded contempt, and kept their mouths firmly shut as if they feared revealing the king's loathsome plan.
When at last we bumped against a tier of stone steps fronting the quayside before an enormous gate, I was glad to put the stink of the bay behind me. I turned to thank the boatman, but remembered Hnefi's warning and dutifully held my tongue. Orm stepped from the boat, and Gunnar followed, both seemingly oblivious to Didimus, who was calling to us and holding out his hand for payment.
Hnefi, ignoring the boatman, said, "Come, Shaven One, you will go before us. I do not want you wandering from sight."
"Forgive me, jarl," I replied, "but we must pay him."
The barbarian regarded the boatman impassively, and said, "Nay." Hnefi turned his back and stepped from the boat without further word, leaving me no choice but to scurry after him.