The iron lance

'All praise to God,' the Grand Drungarius answered.

They drank together and Alexius, laying aside his cup quickly, said, 'See here, Dalassenus. I have already sent messengers back to the city. The ships will be ready to sail upon your arrival. It is a cruel thing to dispatch a man fresh from the battlefield, I know. But you will have a good few days' rest aboard ship.'

The young commander nodded. 'It is no hardship, Basileus, I assure you.'

'It is not that I do not trust the Logothete or the Syneculla,' Alexius continued. 'Indeed, they will go with you. But this is primarily a military matter, and the Patriarch of Rome must know the importance I place on the victory we have achieved today, and how much I value his aid. Now that the northern border is secure, we can turn our attention to the south and east.'

The emperor began pacing back and forth, clenching his fists. 'We can begin taking back the lands the Arabs have stolen. At long last, all we have worked for is within our grasp. Think of it, Dalassenus!'

Alexius stopped, regaining control of his free-racing hopes. 'Alas, the army is not ready to meet the challenge.'

'Your troops fight well, Basileus,' Dalassenus disagreed mildly. 'We could not ask for better soldiers, nor would we find them.'

'Do not misunderstand me. I agree: they are brave men-the most disciplined and courageous soldiers in the world-but they are too few. The constant warring has taken its toll, and we must begin rebuilding the themes. There is so much to be done, but it is within our very grasp now, and -'

The smile on Dalassenus' face arrested his kinsman's familiar tirade.

'Forgive me, cousin,' Alexius said, 'I am forgetting myself. You, who have been with me from the beginning, know it all as well as I. Better, perhaps, in many respects.'

Dalassenus turned to the table, refilled the emperor's cup and handed it to him. 'Let us savour the victory a moment longer, Basileus.' Raising his cup, he said, 'For the glory of God, and the welfare of the empire.'

'Amen!' replied the emperor, adding, 'May the peace we have won this day last a thousand years.'

THREE

Murdo wilted under the abbot's interminable prayers and wished he was far away from Kirkjuvagr. His knees ached from kneeling so long, and the smoke from the incense made his empty stomach queasy. The dim interior of the great church reminded him of a cave: dank and cool and dark. Save for a smattering of candles around the altar, and a few tiny slit windows, he might have been deep in an earth-howe, or one of the ancient chambered tombs scattered among the low hills. Outside it was balmy midsummer, but here inside the cathedral it was, ever and always, dreary mid-November.

Craning his neck sharply to the right, he could see the stern countenances of saints Luke and John staring from the nearest wall in sharp disapproval at his fidgeting. Higher up, under the roof-tree, a frog-eyed gargoyle grinned down from a corbel-as if in merry mockery of Murdo's growing discomfort. To his left knelt his mother and father, and before him his brothers and cousin. None of them, he knew, shared his distress, which made it all the worse.

The Feast of Saint John was one of the few holy days Murdo truly enjoyed, and here he was spending it in the worst way possible. If he had been at the bu, the morning service would have been over long since and he would be filling himself with roast pork and barley wine. Instead, he was trapped in a damp, dark cavern of a church listening to some lickspit priest gabble on and on and on in irksome Latin.

Why, of all possible days, did it have to be this one? He moaned inwardly, contemplating the ruin of the day. The waste of a good feast-day was a mortal sin, yet the bishop, in typical ignorant clerical selfishness, had decreed the Feast of Saint John for the cross-taking. The only consolation, and it was cold comfort indeed, lay in the fact that at least Murdo was not alone in his misery.

Indeed, the entire church was full and so was the yard outside -full of men and women of rank, as well as merchants and tenants of various holdings large and small, from many of Orkney's low-scattered isles: hundreds of islanders in clutches and knots, all of them kneeling, like himself, heads down, faces almost touching the clammy stone, intoning their dull responses in a low, mumbled drone. Murdo imagined they were each and every one praying that the abbot would, for God's sake, stop.

Seeing them like this, their backs all bent, put Murdo in mind of a field of boulders, and it was all he could do to stop himself leaping up and making his escape by skipping from one humped back to the next like stepping stones. Instead, he lowered his head once more, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried not to think of the succulent roast pork and sweet ale he was missing.

When at last the ox-brained abbot did stop, Murdo rose to his feet, almost faint with hunger. He stared glumly, forlornly ahead, as yet another black-robed cleric ascended to the pulpit high above the upturned faces of the overcrowded sanctuary. Bishop Adalbert stood for a time, gazing beatifically down from his lofty perch. Satisfied that every eye was upon him, he thrust out his hands and declared, 'This is the favourable day of the Lord!'

'Amen,' the congregation mumbled. The response sounded to Murdo like the sea when it lies uneasy on the shore.

Again, the bishop put forth his hands and proclaimed, 'This is the favourable day of the Lord!'

'Amen,' muttered the crowd, sounding more and more like a fretful sea.

'Amen!' cried the bishop triumphantly. 'For this day our Saviour King will receive into his service men of faith who will fight for him in the Holy Land.'

The cleric retrieved a square of parchment and made a show of unfolding and opening it. 'This,' he explained, 'has lately come into my hands: an epistle from our holy father, the Patriarch of Rome, bearing his seal.' He flourished the parchment to show the red blot of wax and the golden cord. Holding the letter before him, Adalbert began, 'I read it thus: 'Bishop Urban, servant of servants, to all the faithful of Christ, both rulers and subjects: Greetings, grace, and apostolic blessing. We know you have already heard that the frenzy of the barbarians has devastated the churches of God, and has, shame to say, seized into slavery the sacred relics of our faith, those blessed objects of veneration by which we recognize and proclaim the truth of our salvation. Alas! Not content to destroy our churches, the infidel have seized the Holy City of Jerusalem itself and would prevent God's people their rightful worship.' '

The good bishop paused to allow his listeners to more fully savour this dire state of affairs. ' 'Grieving in pious contemplation of this disaster,' ' Adalbert continued, making Murdo squirm, ' 'we strongly urge the princes and people of every western land to work for the liberation of the Eastern Church. Who shall avenge these wrongs, who will recover the relics and lands if not you? You, my people, are the race upon whom God has bestowed glory in arms, greatness of spirit, physical energy, and the courage to humble the proud locks of all those who resist you.' '

Adalbert looked up from his reading to gaze upon the assembly as if to say, I, too, have seen this glory, greatness and courage. He then cleared his throat and continued. ' 'We have heard that some of you desire to go to Jerusalem. Know then, that anyone who sets out on this journey, not out of lust for worldly advantage but only for the salvation of his soul and for the liberation of the Church, is remitted in entirety,'' the bishop paused so to repeat this astounding offer with appropriate weight, ''remitted in entirety all penance for his sins, if he has made a true and perfect act of confession.

‘ 'O, most valiant knights, descendants of unconquerable ancestors, remember the courageous faith of your forefathers and do not dishonour it. I urge you to become Soldiers of Christ and follow the cross whereby you have received your strong salvation. For this purpose and to this end, we have appointed this a year of jubilee to be celebrated in the pursuit of Godliness and righteousness, the culmination of which is to be a pilgrimage to free Jerusalem from the wicked oppressor under which the Holy City languishes even now.

'Beloved in Christ, if God calls you to this task, know that this Most Holy Crusade will set out, with the aid of God, the day following the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin. May Almighty God strengthen you in His love and fear, and bring you free from all sins and errors to the contemplation of perfect charity and true piety through this pilgrimage of faith.' '

Here the bishop laid aside the epistle and, gazing benevolently over his congregation, said, 'Brothers and