assembled a fine collection.' He smiled, regarding Alethea with a keenly appreciative eye. 'My ladies, you are welcome to examine my goods. I trade with only the finest craftsmen. Please, satisfy yourself that this is so.'

Alethea, uninterested in weaponry, yawned as Cait moved to a nearby rack which contained a dozen or more Prankish broadswords; other racks contained both smaller and larger swords of Arab and Byzantine design. She picked up one and hefted it in her hand; the weight was good, and the wooden pommel tightly bound with rawhide. Thoroughly bored now that there was nothing for her, Alethea wandered into the next room where Yngvar and Dag were selecting shields from among the many different varieties on offer-from small, round Byzantine dorkas, and long oval targs which covered half the body, to the enormous curved square wooden scutum of ancient Roman design.

'My compliments to you, Geldemar,' said Cait, replacing the sword. 'You have amassed a distinguished armoury.'

Rognvald appeared just then, holding a slender^thin-bladed lance. Caitriona joined him. 'We will find everything we need here,' he said. 'With your permission, my lady, I would like to deal with this fellow.'

'Very well,' replied Cait. 'I will leave it to you, my lord. If you like, Abu can stay and help with the bargaining.'

'No need,' answered Rognvald. 'Geldemar and I understand one another.'

She turned and addressed the merchant. 'I will leave the choice of arms to the discernment of my knights,' Cait told him.

Geldemar smiled, pressing his hands together. 'Very wise, my lady.'

Producing a small purse, Cait handed it to the merchant. 'As a gesture of good faith here are ten gold solidi. Let this be a partial payment for the items they select. The rest will be paid when the goods are delivered to the harbour.' Indicating the tall knight looking on, she said, 'Lord Rognvald will make the arrangements.'

'I am your servant, my lady,' replied the merchant, accepting the money. To Rognvald he said, 'Now, perhaps if you would tell me what you require, I will consider how best to help you.'

Cait left the men to their business and, summoning Alethea and Abu, resumed her procurement of provisions. They visited a butcher, miller, baker, sellers of spices, honey, oil, and green goods, and suppliers of smoked and salted meat and fish. They arrived back at the ship only a few moments before the knights returned. Each carried a new sword and dagger-which the merchant Geldemar had trusted them to take away – and their spirits were higher than she had yet seen them. They vied with one another in proclaiming the virtues of their weapons.

'This blade shines like a flame,' announced Svein, brandishing the weapon in the slanting sunlight. 'I shall call it Loga.'

Yngvar said that his sword would be called Fylkir because, as he boasted, 'It will always be first into the fray.'

Dag said his was to be called Hollrvarda, because of the three, his blade was the only true defender. This provoked an argument over what sort of names were best for weapons, and what the other items in the armoury were to be called. The discussion was still going on when Rognvald and Geldemar arrived in a horse-drawn wagon carrying the remaining arms and armour: helms and shields for all, swordbelts with heavy bronze buckles and hangers for their daggers, battle axes for Svein and Yngvar, a mace for Dag, and ten good stout lances. There were hauberks in heavy ringed mail, with hoods, and mail greaves to cover their legs.

Cait went down to the wharf to meet the wagon and pay the balance due for the weapons. 'We have done well, my lady,' Rognvald informed her. 'He put up a good fight, but we vanquished him in the end.'

'It was four against one,' Geldemar said happily, 'what could I do?' She noticed the rosy blush on his nose and cheeks, and guessed he had been standing very near a wine jar recently.

'How much is owing?' asked Cait.

'One hundred and fifty-five gold solidi, my bounteous lady,' said the merchant grandly. 'And a rare bargain it is, if I say so myself.'

'Indeed?' Cait looked to Rognvald for confirmation.

'Our friend here was rendered helpless by a fit of generosity of a magnitude unseen in Cyprus for more than a hundred years,' declared the knight, patting Geldemar on the shoulder amiably. 'I do believe he is trying to become a saint among merchants.'

Geldemar laughed loudly at this, and as the knights unloaded the wagon Cait opened her purse and began counting out the gold coins into his hand. Then he thanked Cait for her custom, bowed low and kissed her hand, and with Rognvald's help climbed into the wagon. Off he drove, with much waving and wishing of good fortune, disappearing along the quay. Cait and Rognvald watched him go; as soon as he was out of sight, Cait said, 'I know little about the cost of weapons, but a hundred and fifty-five seems a good price to me-a very good price indeed. I thought it might be two or three times as much.'

'To be sure,' replied Rognvald easily. 'But sometimes, after a few friendly jars, a fellow begins to understand that there is more to life than gainful trade.'

'I see.'

'Anyway, Geldemar has more than enough gold, but very few friends.'

'At least not many who will drink with him in the middle of the day, I suppose.'

They returned to the ship to find the knights rolling up the mats and clearing the foredeck; that accomplished, they immediately set themselves to honing skills dulled by long captivity.

Cait decided to withdraw to her quarters below deck where it was cooler. 'Come, Thea,' she said, 'let us leave the men to practise their swordplay.'

When Thea made no reply, she looked to see her sister gazing raptly at the knights, who had stripped to the waist in the heat. 'He is handsome, is he not?' she said.

Cait saw where her sister was looking. Dag, his spare, muscular torso glistening with sweat, was lunging back and forth across the deck in a vigorous display of stab and thrust-as much for Alethea's benefit, Cait surmised, as for the drubbing of his invisible opponent.

'Thea, come away,' snapped Cait. Abashed at her sister's barefaced stare, she took the younger woman by the arm and pulled her down the steps. 'Have you no shame?' she demanded as soon as they were below deck. 'He is hired to do my bidding, and I will not have you making cow eyes at him.'

'I was never making cow eyes!' replied Thea, rigid with indignation. 'Not that you would know anything about it. You will die a dried-up old hag and have no one to blame but yourself.'

The remark was calculated to cut deep and it did. 'Take that back.'

'No.'

'Take it back!'

By way of reply, Thea screwed up her face in a sour expression of defiant disobedience. Before she knew it, Cait's hand snaked out and struck her on the cheek with a resounding slap. Without another word, Thea turned and disappeared into her chamber, slamming the door behind her.

Cait, upset and angry, stood fuming in the companionway, fighting down the urge to go in and throttle her sister. Instead, she returned to the upper deck, and was speaking with Haemur about the voyage ahead when Rognvald approached carrying a long cloth bundle in his hands.

'This is for you, my lady,' the tall Norseman said. Drawing aside the cloth wrapping, he presented her with a short, slender sword. 'It was made as a gift for Queen Melisende of Jerusalem, but was taken as loot when the baggage train that carried it was overrun by Saracens. Geldemar only recently acquired it.'

He placed the elegant, keen-edged blade in her grasp. It was half the size of a man's weapon, lighter, shorter, and balanced for a woman's hand. She swept it back and forth smartly. The quick, responsive weight sent an unexpected thrill through her. She had tried swords before-men's blades-and thought them cumbersome and ungainly.

'It is fine, is it not?' said Rognvald approvingly.

'A very marvel,' she murmured. With this blade, she thought, I will hold de Bracineaux to account.

'When Geldemar saw that I liked it for you, he insisted that you should have it.'

'In recognition of a wonderful new friendship, I should think.'

'No doubt,' agreed the knight.

Cait raised the sword before her face. The way the sunlight slid over its polished surface and danced along the razor-sharp edge brought a smile to her lips. 'You must teach me to wield it properly,' she said.

'It will be my very great pleasure,' said Rognvald, inclining his head.

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