Aaron released his hand. ‘Moise will show you out.’
As Vallon and Richard made for the door, father and son held a whispered conference.
‘One moment.’
Vallon turned.
‘My son reminds me that last summer a man called applying for a loan. What was his name? Never mind. He was a Norwegian, one of the few survivors of the invasion defeated by the English at Stamford Bridge. He escaped in a ship which was blown on to the shores of East Anglia. He wanted money to repair the ship. He offered to repay me in fish, and when I told him I wasn’t a fishmonger, he tried to sell me an orphan English girl. Even if he’d had collateral, I would have refused him. He was a repulsive wretch, careless with the truth and a little touched in the wits.’
‘I think we can do better than that.’
‘I only mention him for these reasons,’ Aaron said. He counted them off on his hand. ‘He has a ship; he needs money to repair it; he wishes to return to his homeland.’ Aaron held up another finger. ‘And, as I said, he’s crazy. I wish I could recall his name. It will come to me the moment you leave.’
‘Where will we find him?’
Aaron conferred with Moise. ‘A town called Lynn. It’s a day’s ride north, on the Wash.’
On the steps outside the entrance, Vallon watched soldiers moving in the glow of braziers by the castle gates.
‘Come here,’ Aaron said to Hero. ‘You know that Jews in England are forbidden to follow any trade other than moneylending.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I’m a wealthy man. I can travel anywhere in the kingdom without paying tolls. In a court of law my word is worth the testimony of twelve native-born Englishmen. I have many personal blessings — my family, my religion, my books, my garden. Yet the truth is, I’m confined to a cage.’
‘We ought to be going,’ Vallon said, eyeing the soldiers.
‘I didn’t choose to be a moneylender,’ Aaron continued. ‘My ambition was to follow the law, but … ’ With a little roll of the hand, he dismissed the tidal waves of history. ‘You must be a scholar of great promise to have been singled out by Constantine Africanus. Don’t waste your talents out of misguided devotion to a … ’ Aaron looked at Vallon. ‘
‘There’ll be time for my studies when I return.’
‘Ha! The optimism of youth, the bliss of ignorance. There’s never enough time.’
Aaron closed the door. Bolts were shot, chains rattled. The key turned in the lock.
Hero eyed Vallon. ‘Don’t be angry, sir.’
‘Why did you come back?’
‘I couldn’t forget how Cosmas had said an unfinished journey was like a story without an ending. How could I leave without knowing how this one ends?’
Vallon shook his head. ‘Not all travellers reach their destination, not all journeys end happily.’
‘There’s another reason — something that’s been plaguing my conscience.’
Two of the soldiers had begun walking towards them across the plaza. ‘Tell me later.’
They were at the foot of the steps when the judas hole opened. ‘Snorri,’ Aaron called. ‘That’s the Norwegian’s name.’
‘Leave us,’ Vallon said. He waited until Richard had gone, then sat down on a stool by the open window. Hero remained standing in the middle of the room, clasping his medicine casket. A single candle burned on the table. The only other light came from the moon rising in the east.
‘Well?’
Hero spoke in a barely audible voice. ‘When you asked me why Cosmas had gone to such pains to rescue Walter, I told you that he’d acted out of pity and a desire to visit England. I wasn’t speaking the whole truth.’
Vallon remembered his doubts about the old man’s motives. He rested a foot on the window ledge. ‘I’ve had a trying day and I’m in no mood to question or catechise. If you have a confession to make, get on with it.’
‘It’s true that Cosmas went to the Sultan’s camp after the disaster at Manzikert. It’s true that he helped negotiate ransom terms for some of the more noble prisoners, including the Emperor Romanus. While he was involved in these negotiations, he received a message from Sir Walter. It was a strange message and one that greatly excited his curiosity. Walter claimed to have in his possession documents sent by the ruler of a distant Christian realm. One of the documents was a letter addressed to the Byzantine Emperor, offering to forge an alliance against the Turks and Saracens.’
‘How did Walter come by the letter?’
‘While raiding into Armenia, he sacked a Muslim town. The governor gave him the documents in exchange for his life. He himself had obtained them after his troops intercepted a caravan travelling from the east. Cosmas knew how important an alliance could be. He believed that the defeat at Manzikert would lead to a Holy War. He went to the camp where Walter was being held. The Norman showed him the documents and offered them in exchange for his release. Cosmas persuaded Walter to give him the first few pages of the letter, in which the ruler offers an alliance and describes the glories of his far-off realm. The rest of the letter — explaining how an embassy can reach his land — together with the other document, Walter wouldn’t part with. He said that he’d hand them over once Cosmas had bought his freedom.’
‘For a king’s ransom.’
‘That was the first setback. The Emir couldn’t understand why Cosmas would want to free a low-ranking mercenary, so out of mischief or suspicion he set his demands impossibly high.’
‘Go on.’
‘Cosmas intended to raise the ransom from the patriarch in Constantinople. But before he reached the capital, he discovered that the newly returned Emperor had been deposed by his nephew.’
‘The traitor who provoked the rout at Manzikert.’
‘Yes, sir. Cosmas knew that as one of Romanus’s advisors, his own life was in jeopardy. He fled to Italy.’ Hero’s voice faltered.
‘Sit down,’ Vallon said. He waited until Hero was seated, cradling the chest on his knees. ‘We’ve reached Italy. What then?’
‘He visited his old friend Constantine. It was at this point that I was recruited, but I swear I had no knowledge of the documents. All they told me was that we would be travelling to England on a matter of great importance. By the time we left Rome, Cosmas was already showing signs of his fatal illness. I urged him to turn back, but he wouldn’t abandon the journey. The quest had become an obsession.’
‘When did he take you into his confidence?’
‘Not until the night you found us in the storm. He passed the letter to me before he died.’
‘You still have it?’
‘Yes, sir. It’s hidden in my medicine chest.’ Hero made a move to open it.
‘Later. What’s the name of this ruler?’
‘He doesn’t boast a regal title. Out of Christian humility, he calls himself Prester or priest — Prester John.’
Vallon frowned. ‘I’ve heard the Moors speak of him.’
‘As have I. Cosmas heard rumours of him as far east as Samarkand, as far south as Egypt. Some say that he’s descended from one of Alexander the Great’s generals. Others claim that his line goes back to Gaspar, one of the Magi who visited the baby Jesus in Bethlehem.’
‘Where does his realm lie?’
‘Somewhere in the three Indias. When Cosmas made an expedition into Greater India, he discovered several Christian communities founded by the apostle Thomas, the patron saint of Prester John’s realm. Cosmas believes that the seat of his empire is to be found in India the Far, a land that travellers of old call Ethiopia.’
Vallon nodded without really taking it in. For him, India was a place receding into myth and mist.
‘Describe it.’
Hero ran his hands over the lid of the chest. ‘Prester John says that it lies next to the original Eden. It’s divided into seventy-two provinces, each with its own king, some of whom are pagan but all tributary to the
