King Magnus was not slow to grasp Murdo's meaning. 'If this is what troubles you, my friend, then your hardship is at an end. As I am King of Norway and Orkneyjar, I will see justice served.'
'Very well,' replied Murdo, inclining his head in assent. 'I ask for no more than that.'
'Splendid!' cried Bohemond, slapping Murdo on the back. 'It is agreed.'
'Now then,' the king said, 'tell me who has perpetrated this offence, and when we return to the Dark Isles I will have the man summoned and demand an accounting for his crimes.'
'There is no need to wait for our return to Orkneyjar,' Murdo answered bluntly. 'The man I speak of is here among us even now.'
'Here!' wondered Magnus, drawing back suddenly as if suspecting a trap. Casting a quick, worried glance at his liegemen, he said, 'Certainly, you must be mistaken.'
'There is no mistake, Murdo assured him. Pointing to the rank of onlooking noblemen, he declared, 'Orin Broad-Foot is that man.'
Magnus, aghast and dismayed, stared at Murdo, and then at his vassal lord, who was as surprised as his king at this startling accusation. Bohemond appeared bemused; he regarded Murdo wonderingly, as the Norse lord rose and stepped quickly to his nobleman. The two held close conversation for a moment while all those about them shuffled and murmured in restless anticipation.
'This is a most difficult matter,' Magnus announced, turning from his consultation. 'It seems my son, Prince Sigurd, is responsible for taking your lands. Naturally, Lord Orin knew nothing of your family's plight and he is not to blame in this matter.'
'God knows it is true,' Orin swore. 'If I had known the isle belonged to your father, I would never have taken it. But I had it on good faith from the bishop that those lands had fallen forfeit when Jarl Erlend was dethroned.'
Magnus nodded, satisfied with his lord's declaration of innocence. 'For this reason,' he continued, 'I do not think justice would be accomplished by punishing a good man for a crime which he neither knew nor intended.' Murdo opened his mouth to protest, but the king, anticipating his complaint, raised a hand to stay him. 'Still, it is not right that you and yours should bear such ill-fortune. I would be a worthless king indeed if I did not offer some remedy for injuries caused by my son's inexperience.'
Bohemond nodded approvingly, and the noblemen added their endorsement of the king's judgement with grunts and growls of support. 'Therefore,' Magnus resumed, 'I would make amends to you and your family and vassals by offering you other lands on which to build and settle.' He paused to take in Murdo's sour disposition, and then added, 'However great your lands in Orkneyjar, ten times that much again shall be given to you.'
'There is no estate in all Orkneyjar so big as that,' Murdo observed somewhat warily.
'That may be as you say,' answered Magnus. 'So I will give you land in Caithness-a portion of the kingdom granted me by Malcolm, King of the Scots. I give it right freely, and welcome you to take it.' He offered his hand to Murdo-the gesture of a Norseman when striking a bargain.
Realizing he had achieved a boon far greater than anything he would have dared ask, Murdo rose to his feet. 'My father, Lord Ranulf, fell at Jerusalem,' he said. 'But if he were standing here before you, I know he would accept your generous offer, freely forgiving any grievance or ill-feeling towards Lord Orin, or Prince Sigurd. Therefore, in honour of my father, I accept.' He grasped the offered hand, thereby sealing the bargain. 'Know, too, that my father would want to see the Holy Lance placed in safe and trustworthy hands for the good of all.'
With that, Murdo delivered the lance to Count Bohemond, who received it gladly, then stood at once, crossed to the rail, and lofted the silk-wrapped weapon above his head to the rapturous delight of the crowd who yet stood waiting to see how the confrontation would be resolved. 'The Holy Lance is recovered!' he called. 'Praise God, and give thanks for its swift return.'
Murdo heard a loud sigh behind him and turned in time to see Emlyn crumple to the deck. Overcome by the sight of his trusted companion delivering the lance to the adversary, the priest had swooned.
FORTY-SEVEN
Bohemond wasted not a moment summoning the imperial envoy to deliver his prize. Like Godfrey, he understood his survival depended on the good will of the emperor. Unlike Godfrey, he was not afraid to make the sacrifice which would secure Alexius' support. In his brief and prickly appearance before the council in Jerusalem, Dalassenus had left little doubt that the emperor's future co-operation depended on the return of the lance.
The wily count had decided that if the lance could secure the emperor's support, it was a price he would gladly pay. In order to derive the maximum benefit from the gift, Bohemond must be seen to be the agent of its return. Even as he and Magnus walked from the council chamber, he had begun scheming as to how to get the relic away from Godfrey.
The instant Bohemond learned that Godfrey's men had departed Jerusalem, he put his spies to work. Upon discovering that Godfrey intended sending the sacred lance to the pope for safe-keeping, he had set off in pursuit with his best knights. True, he had not reckoned on fighting the Turks all night, neither had he foreseen Murdo's intervention. And if the gatemen had not been telling everyone about the youth who had stolen the Holy Lance, he would have despaired of ever finding it again. Life in the eastern empire was full of surprises, however, and he was learning to seize each opportunity as it arose.
Grasping the iron lance in his hand, he marvelled at his own good fortune. 'Take word to the Grand Drungarius,' he said, turning to Bayard. 'Tell the envoy that Count Bohemond comes bearing the Holy Lance of Christ, and that we would be pleased to wait upon him for the relic's delivery at his earliest convenience.'
Bayard and two of Bohemond's nobles were despatched to the imperial ship with the count's message.
Murdo knelt beside the stricken priest, and shook him gently. After a moment, the priest woke with a moan and sat up. He saw Murdo and clutched at his sleeve. 'You gave the lance to Bohemond!' he gasped. 'We must try to get it back-it is not too late. We must -'
He struggled to rise. 'Shh!' Murdo warned, pushing him back down. 'Be still.'
'The lance!' Emlyn hissed. 'He means to give it away!'
'All will be well,' whispered Murdo, bending near. Gripping the monk by the arm, he helped him slowly to his feet. 'Listen to me, there is not much time. Magnus is here-which means Ronan and Fionn cannot be far away. The less they know about this, the better, I think.'
Emlyn searched the young man's face for a reason, found none, and shook his head sadly. 'I do not understand. Last night you said you would follow the True Path and rescue the lance, yet today you give it away. What has changed you, Murdo?'
'Nothing has changed,' Murdo told him. 'We have to see this through.'
At that moment, Bohemond, standing at the rail with King Magnus beside him, lofted the Holy Lance in the air, and called out in a loud voice so everyone on the wharf could hear, 'Make way! Make way, my friends, for the emperor's envoy. He comes to receive this most holy relic into his care.' The sailors and crusaders near by looked up to see the golden cord and silken wrapping flash in the sun; they saw the emperor's emissary moving towards them, and backed away, uncertain as to what was about to happen.
Bohemond put his hand out in a conciliatory gesture. 'Join me, drungarius,' he called. 'Let us stand together and pledge troth before all gathered here.'
While the Grand Drungarius made his way through the throng to the dragon-prowed ship, Bohemond delivered a high-sounding speech to his onlookers, speaking eloquently about the suffering of the crusaders and their noble achievement in securing the Holy City for all time. He spoke of God's great design for his people, and the supremacy of the emperor as the Almighty's sole representative on Earth, and how it was good to reflect on the suffering of all those who had died in the struggle, and how the Good Lord himself had blessed their great enterprise by revealing the Holy Lance as a sign of his favour.
From his place beside Murdo, Emlyn gazed longingly at the lance in the count's hands. 'He is giving it away!' The monk started forth.
'Peace, brother,' Murdo muttered, taking his arm and holding him to his place. 'Be still.'
The monk, growing desperate, squirmed in Murdo's grasp. 'We cannot stand by and let him give it away!'
'That is exactly what we will do.' Murdo jerked hard on the monk's arm. 'Now stand still and be quiet.'
Dalassenus, with four Varangian guards on either side, mounted the plank to the ship and came to stand
