A moment later the magister struck the white marble floor with his rod of office, and the great gilded doors of the Salamos Hall swung open. In marched Nicetas, followed by four of the imperial guard-one at each corner- leading a large, thick-set shambling man, tonsured and barefoot, and dressed in the dun-coloured hooded cloak and ankle-length mantle of a rural Roman cleric.
Excubitor Nicetas, sweating from his ride in the heat of the day, advanced quickly to the foot of the throne, prostrated himself, and rose at his sovereign's command to say, 'Lord Basileus, I give you Peter of Amiens.'
The rustic priest, suitably awed by the wealth of his surroundings, gazed with wonder at the exalted being on the throne before him. Upon hearing his name, he pitched forward onto his face and seized the emperor by the foot, which he kissed respectfully, saying, 'Hail, Sovereign Lord, your willing servant salutes you.'
'Rise, and stand on your feet,' said Alexius sternly. The man rose, shaking his clothes back in the same motion; with his tattered cloak and filthy mantle he looked like a vagrant bird which, having bathed in the dust, now settled its bedraggled feathers.
'They tell us you are the leader of these pilgrim peasants,' the emperor said. 'Is this true?'
'By no means, Lord Emperor,' replied Peter. 'I am but a poor hermit granted by God and His Holiness Pope Urban the divine favour of going on pilgrimage to the Holy Land.'
'You know, of course, that martyrdom awaits you,' Alexius informed him, 'should you be so fortunate as to reach Jerusalem.'
At this the hermit priest drew himself up to full height. 'Lord and Emperor, it is our very great privilege to wrest the lands of our Saviour from the evil infidel. With Almighty God as our protector, this we will do.'
'The Arabs will oppose you,' the emperor stated, watching the man before him. 'How do you plan to win Jerusalem?'
'If necessary,' the hermit replied, 'we will fight.'
'It will most certainly become necessary-of that we can assure you,' Alexius said, feeling his anger stir within. 'The Arabs are fearless in battle, and their resolve is legendary. Where are your weapons? Where are your supplies? Have you any siege engines? Have you the tools to make bridges, dig wells, scale walls?'
'What we need,' answered the cleric placidly, 'the Good Lord provides.'
'And has the Good Lord provided any soldiers for your army?'
'He has, Lord Emperor,' answered Peter, shaking back his cloak once more. There was more than a touch of self-righteous defiance in his stance and tone.
'How many?'
'We have eight knights with us. They are led by the most devout Walter Sansavoir of Poissy.'
'Eight,' repeated Alexius. 'Did you hear that, Nicetas? They have eight mounted soldiers.' Turning once more to the priest, he asked, 'Do you know how many warriors Sultan Arslan commands?'
Peter, uncertain, hesitated.
'Too late you show a little wisdom, my friend,' the emperor said. 'Very well, I will tell you, shall I? The sultan has forty thousand in his private bodyguard alone. Forty thousand mounted warriors against your eight.'
'We are sixty thousand strong,' Peter proclaimed proudly. 'We are God's own army.'
The emperor's shout echoed in the hall like the crack of thunder. He leapt from his chair and stood towering over the unfortunate priest. 'What is more, you are a wayward and undisciplined rabble. We have heard how you have plundered your way through Dalmatia and Moesia, looting towns and settlements to provide yourselves with food and supplies.' He turned his head to the Captain of the Excubitori. 'We are not at war with Dalmatia and Moesia, are we, Nicetas?' he inquired with mock innocence.
'No, Basileus,' the commander replied, 'the people there are citizens of the empire.'
'You see!' cried Alexius. 'You have attacked dutiful citizens whose only fault lay in the fact that they happened to live in the path of your thieving mob.'
'They were Jews,' Peter pointed out smugly. 'We have vowed before the Throne of Christ to rid the world of all God's enemies.'
'Your vow was ill-spoken, priest. You have neither right nor authority to swear such a thing. You are above yourself, and we will not suffer these transgressions lightly,' Alexius declared, glaring hard at the ignorant cleric. After a moment, he appeared to soften. 'Nevertheless, despite your flagrant and lamentable trespasses, we will make a bargain with you. In exchange for peace while within imperial borders, we will give you food and water while you are here in Constantinople; further, we will arrange safe conduct for you back the way you came.'
'With all respect, Emperor and Lord,' the hermit replied, 'that I cannot do, for we are sworn to liberate Jerusalem at all costs.'
'Then you must be prepared to pay that cost with your lives,' Alexius declared. 'For truly, you will not escape with less.' He paused, drumming his fingers on the arms of his throne. 'Is there nothing we can say to persuade you to turn back?'
The rustic priest made no reply.
'Very well,' conceded Alexius, 'we will see you safely across the Bosphorus, at least. And may God have mercy on you all.'
Humbled at last, the tattered hermit bowed and accepted his lord's generosity with simple thanks.
'Hear me, Peter of Amiens,' Alexius warned, 'you proceed at your peril. Take our advice and turn back. Without protection and supplies, your pilgrimage will fail.'
'As God wills,' he replied stiffly. 'We look to the Almighty for our aid and protection.'
Alexius, still fuming, glared at the mule-headed cleric and decided there was no point in prolonging the misery; with a flick of the imperial hand, he ended the audience and directed Nicetas to take him away. When they had gone, the emperor turned to Dalassenus. 'This is that incompetent Urban's doing, and he will bitterly regret it. His insufferable interference has brought us nothing but hardship… and now this!'
The emperor stared at his commander, his brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, he said, 'Can it be that he has misunderstood our intentions?'
'I do not see how that could be possible, Basileus,' Dalassenus replied. 'Your letter was most explicit. He had it read out before his bishops, and you have received his favourable reply.'
'Even so, something has gone wrong,' Alexius declared. 'I asked for an army to help fill the ranks and restore the themes. I said nothing about a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.'
'No, Basileus,' agreed Dalassenus firmly.
The emperor shook his head. 'I fear I must ask you to return to Rome, cousin. We must learn what that old meddler has done, and take measures to prevent any more citizens coming to harm. You will leave at once, and may God go with you.'
FIVE
'I have spoken to Guthorm Wry-Neck,' Lord Brusi was saying as Murdo drifted near, 'and he said the ship will leave Kirkjuvagr the day after the Feast of Saint James, God willing.'
'That soon?' His father sounded surprised. 'It cannot take so long to reach Lundein.'
Brusi only nodded. 'That is what he said.'
'But the harvest will not be finished,' Ranulf pointed out.
'Aye,' Brusi agreed. 'There is no help for it, I fear. We must reach Rouen by mid-August and no later if we are to travel with the king's men.'
'Yes, yes, I see that,' Lord Ranulf agreed. 'Still, I had not thought we would be leaving so soon.'
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Bishop Adalbert, who called his guests to table-the women to tables on the right, and men to the left. In the eager, but not undignified, rush which ensued, Murdo found himself squeezed onto a bench between two merchantmen of more than ample girth. The one on his left eyed him disapprovingly-as if he feared that Murdo's presence might turn feast into fast; but the man on the right winked at him and smiled. 'Going to Jerusalem are you, boy?'
'I am not, sir,' replied Murdo in a tone that dared his listener to pursue the matter further.
