nothing had happened and no one had been hurt. As for myself, I had suffered nothing worse than embarrassment. Thinking this, some small part of my self-respect revived. What is more, I still had my silver coin.
Thus, much chagrined, I resumed my inspection of the market stalls. Alas, it was hopeless. Try as I might, I could not think of anything I would enjoy doing with the money. At last, I chanced upon the thought of procuring a meal at a taberna-like the one Justin had bought for me. But to enjoy it, I would need a friend to share the feast, and I had none. I thought of buying wine and taking it to the quay to drink with Gunnar and Thorkel and Tolar. If Gunnar were here, I thought, he would know what to do.
For a moment, I considered going to find Gunnar, but the more I thought about it, the more offensive the idea became. Had I become so devoid of creative volition that I required a master's aid and approval for even so small a thing as spending a coin? Had I embraced slavery so completely that I could no longer decide for myself?
Chastised by these thoughts, I determined to purchase a meal, as that had been the last thing I had truly enjoyed for its own sake alone. The forum was not the best place for this, so I went in search of the taberna I had seen when first entering Trebizond. I found the central street and began walking along it in the direction of the harbour. The narrow way was crowded as midday approached, and the street merchants were at their busiest. It was all I could do to find the place, and when I at last pushed my way to the door, I found it closed and locked. No one answered my knock, but when I persisted, a boy put his head out of a windhole above the street and told me to come back in the evening and the master would be happy to serve me.
Discouraged, I moved off down the street where I found a man selling bread, and another selling roast birds, chops of pork, and such like. I bought two fine loaves and a roast fowl, and continued on until I came to a woman selling wine. I bought a jar of sweet red Anatolian wine and, with the last of the money purchased some olives. As I was then very close to the harbour, I continued on towards the seafront, where I thought I might find a place to sit down and eat in peace.
Indeed, I reached the harbour and settled down on a large coil of rope and a heap of fishing nets at the water's edge. Carefully placing the wine jar on the quay so that I would not spill it, I untied the roast fowl and began to eat. It seemed odd to me, sitting there alone, but as I ate and watched the ships come and go in the harbour, I began to take pleasure in my simple meal. The food was good, the day was fine; I could look across the harbour to where the Danish longships were docked, and almost make out individuals among the figures moving around on the wharf.
Very soon, the sun and wine, and a stomach full of bread and roast chicken, united to make me sleepy. My eyelids grew so heavy I could not keep them open, so I lay back in my nest of rope and netting to sleep.
It was late when I awoke; the sun was well down, flaming the western sea and tinting the sky deep yellow. I rose with an aching head and made my way back through shadowed streets to the governor's house, and slipped in quietly, hoping no one had cause to remark upon my absence. Aside from a fleeting twinge of guilt over my small transgression, I reflected that I had enjoyed myself after all.
But then I wondered what Amet had seen that inspired him to exhort me to a day of pleasure. Was it really the last day of peace and happiness I would know?
42
Negotiations between the eparch and the amir concluded when all parties agreed to honour the safety of travellers, especially merchants and the like who habitually traversed disputed borders. The routes themselves might remain under contention, but all recognized that it was best for everyone if trade continued unhindered. What is more, both emperor and caliph vowed-through their emissaries-to take whatever steps necessary to halt the pirating and raiding on both sides.
Furthermore, they agreed that these simple measures, if strictly upheld, could lay a solid foundation for increased cooperation, perhaps even reconciliation in the future. Towards this end, they proposed to meet again the following year to plan a council at which the emperor and the caliph could meet face to face and exchange tokens and treaties of peace.
Spring, early in this part of the world, was soon upon us and that meant the beginning of the trading year. Hence, Nicephorus was eager to return to the emperor with word of the envoy's success, for the sooner word of the peace accord could reach Constantinople, the sooner the merchants could resume trading with full confidence-and the sooner imperial coffers would begin enjoying fresh infusions of tax money, foreign and domestic.
'If you will pardon me, eparch,' said Nikos the day after Amir Sadiq had departed. There had been a great farewell feast to celebrate the successful conclusion of the council, and the amir had been sent off with gifts of assurance and good will-the treasure the Sea Wolves had guarded, in fact. The eparch was preparing to sail the next day.
'Yes, yes, what is it, komes?' replied Nicephorus impatiently. He was sitting at the small table in the courtyard, looking at various documents having to do with the business just concluded.
'I see you are busy. Therefore, I will speak plainly.'
'By all means.'
'I think it a mistake to return to Constantinople at once.' Nikos was so intent on making his point that he failed to notice me standing just inside the door. I had brought the eparch his cloak; the day had turned cloudy, and he asked me to fetch it for him.
'And why is that?' wondered the eparch, laying aside the parchment he was reading.
'We have had pledges and assurances before, but it has not stopped the predation.'
'Are you suggesting the amir has lied to us, or deceived us in some way?'
'Not in the least,' answered the komes quickly. 'I am as certain as you are that Amir Sadiq is a just and honourable man.'
'Then what are you suggesting?' The eparch glared at Nikos. 'Come now! Be quick about it. You proposed to speak plainly-do so!'
'I am simply suggesting,' Nikos said with elaborate patience, 'that the news of our achievement may not receive the welcome it rightly deserves.'
'And why should you imagine that?' snapped the eparch, already dismissing the komes from his mind, if not from the room. He turned back to the parchment he had been perusing.
'For the simple reason that no one will believe it.'
The eparch glanced up from his work, regarded Nikos, then said, 'Ridiculous.'
'Is it?' countered the komes quickly. 'Who will be the first to test the soundness of the treaty? If I were a merchant, I do not think I would be overeager to risk life and livelihood on the naked assurance of…' He hesitated.
'Say it, komes,' demanded the eparch. 'On the naked assurance of a silly old man. That is what you were going to say, is it not?'
'To risk life and livelihood on the assurances of an unknown Arab emissary,' corrected Nikos smoothly. 'It seems to me that without additional surety, shall we say, the agreement we take back with us will be seen as yet another empty promise offered by the duplicitous Muhammedans-a promise ordained to be broken as soon as the first trade vessels leave the Bosphorus.'
This arrested the eparch's attention. He raised his head slowly and turned to the komes. 'Yes, I am listening. What do you propose?'
'A simple demonstration,' answered Nikos.
'A demonstration,' the eparch intoned flatly. 'What sort of demonstration do you have in mind, komes?'
'A journey, nothing more.'
The eparch's mouth turned down at the corners. 'I am disappointed, komes. I expected something much more creative and intelligent from you.' Flicking his hand dismissively, Nicephorus said, 'It is out of the question. You are too late with your anxious worries. We are leaving as soon as the ships are provisioned and ready. The merchants are anxious to return to Constantinople, and so am I. The emperor is waiting.'
'It need be nothing very elaborate, or very far,' continued Nikos as if he had not heard the eparch's decision. 'What better way to announce the success of the treaty than to declare before the emperor and the assembled merchant princes that you personally have inaugurated the new peace with a journey over one of our more troubled
