‘But you know they’re innocent.’
‘I suspect they’re innocent of this, but who knows what other guilts they hide? They are enemies of Christ, and in times such as these we need only the Saviour’s friends around us. The chamberlain has opposed this action before but now he will sanction it, I’m sure.’
‘I’ll see to it that he doesn’t.’
The man smiled. ‘Don’t make me your enemy, scholar Loys.’
‘That is not my intention.’
‘Our intentions matter little in life. It is what we do that counts. Just by being here you are a threat to the authority of some of the great offices of state. When people find out you are conducting this investigation — which many already have — they will think those in charge don’t trust those offices, and if those offices do not have the emperor’s confidence then they are a little less respected, a little less feared. Killing the soothsayers has a practical benefit. It restores the fear.’
‘At the cost to your immortal soul.’
‘These people consort with devils. If Christ came back today he would be the first to shed their blood. Now excuse me. What you’re looking for is within.’
He tapped the door then walked back the way they had come.
‘I will oppose you,’ said Loys to his retreating back. The man stopped and turned.
‘You could stop me immediately if you chose.’
‘How?’
‘Resign.’
‘That would be my death.’
The man tilted his head, a sarcastic smile on his face. ‘So there’s a limit to your compassion and love for the low people, I see.’
‘I am not a martyr,’ said Loys.
‘Not yet,’ said the man. ‘If you need to leave this city in a hurry, stain your left-hand thumb and small finger with ink. My men will contact you. You may need us. You and your wife.’
‘Who are you?’ Loys felt the blood leave his face at the mention of Beatrice.
But the man walked away, disappearing around a corner.
Loys watched him go with the certainty that his destination, should he take up the man’s offer, would be the next world and his mode of conveyance a dagger to the back.
Loys knocked at the door. After a few moments it was opened a crack by a eunuch, tall and old. ‘Come in, master.’
He opened the door wide to a vision. Beatrice sat in a long dress of deep and lustrous blue. At her neck was a collar in cloth of gold and behind her a maidservant combed out her golden hair. Next to her was a table and on it a silver goblet and a plate of grapes.
‘Loys! You’ve been so long; they said you’d come immediately. Look at you. You’re soaked and you’re covered in dirt. Have you been attacked?’
‘No, gosh, no. You know me. No one crosses me and gets away with it.’ He put up his fists and gave a little growl, trying to be light, trying to reassure her.
‘Oh, Loys, come here and hug me.’
He did, and as he put his arms around her felt a huge need to protect her.
‘Did you see the sky?’ he said.
‘What about the sky?’
‘They brought you here before it happened?’
‘What happened?’
‘Never mind. Just bad weather.’
‘It was a fine day when I arrived.’
‘Who brought you?’
‘Men from the chamberlain’s office. I was afraid of them at first, but they were finely dressed and bore seals so I went with them.’
‘I was worried about you.’
‘They said you’d know I’d come.’
‘No matter. You seem to have settled in.’
‘I should say so! Isn’t it wonderful in here? It’s so lovely. The floor’s as warm as a kitten and look, they’ve laid out clothes for you. Even my father has never dreamed of luxury like this. My clever, clever, husband. I knew they’d reward you one day!’
Beatrice gestured towards a couch. Loys too had been given a rich robe of blue, though without a collar. That was only allowed to those of royal status. He was pleased Beatrice’s rank had been recognised. There were undergarments of linen, slippers too, in fine blue silk decorated with gold brocade.
‘What are these?’ said Loys to the eunuch.
‘A badge of office, sir, the mark of the chamberlain’s men.’
‘You can bathe,’ Beatrice said. ‘Down the corridor there’s a wonderful heated bath. You should try it, Loys.’
‘I will. I’ve heard about such things but I’ve never seen one.’
He studied the robe. Picked out in fine embroidery on its back was a picture of Christ casting out demons and sending them into a herd of swine. The message from the chamberlain about what was required was clear enough.
‘Can you get a message to the chamberlain?’ he said to his servant.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Can you tell him I need to see him at his earliest convenience?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Your mind is always on your labours, Loys,’ said Beatrice. ‘Look at all this lovely stuff. Think how lucky we’ve been, how clever you are to bring us all this.’
‘Well,’ he said, coming over to Beatrice and picking a grape, ‘let’s hope I can live up to it.’ He smiled for her benefit.
‘You can. I know you can, Loys,’ said Beatrice. She looked so alive, so relieved to be out of that stinking woodpile by the water. He kissed her, careless of the servant in the room.
‘For you,’ he said, ‘I will make sure that I do.’
11
Snake in the Eye felt strong and powerful in his Armenian armour, with his Greek sword at his side and his horse archer’s shield proudly on his back. He’d scarcely taken the armour off since he won it. The emperor had spent nearly no time at all in Constantinople and departed for Bithynia in the east almost as soon as he had finished his triumphal march. His attentions had shifted from the rebel to the threat from the Arabs.
Arabic translators were now in greater demand than Norse ones, and Snake in the Eye found himself left with the bulk of the Varangian force, camped outside the walls, waiting for the emperor’s instructions when the great man had made an appraisal of where the Vikings might be needed. At first Snake in the Eye enjoyed his privileged status as a go-between, running from Bollason and his men to the various offices of the city to strike deals on food and supplies. The problem was that Bollason’s army was large, restless and feeling short-changed. They had been promised the gleaming streets of Constantinople, an earthly Asgard, a home fit for gods, let alone men. Instead they were camped out on a freezing shore under a black sky.
Snake in the Eye soon found that his position — having the ear of the emperor and of Bollason — brought its own problems. Men overestimated his influence and asked him why they had not been allowed into the city, why wine was in short supply and so on. One even told him he should insist on a prettier sort of whore for the brave
