Emperor Basil commanded that music should be played, and the wondrous organ we had heard on entering began once more. We waited, listening to the heavenly sounds of that most extraordinary instrument. The Danes grew restless; unaccustomed to spending so much time without shouting, drinking, or fighting, they shifted from one foot to the other with growing agitation. "How long are we to be made to stand here like this?" demanded Harald loudly.
"Peace, Jarl Harald," I soothed. "I believe the emperor is working out a plan."
He subsided with a growl and contented himself with scrutinizing the gold on display. Hnefi and Gunnar talked openly of how their fingers itched to be close to such riches, and yet unable to steal any for themselves. I might have been embarrassed by this, but as no one else knew what they said, it made no difference.
The emperor, for his part, deigned not to notice his barbaric guests' coarse behaviour. He sat back in his throne, folded his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes. When I thought he must be asleep, he roused himself and said, "Slave, come here."
There were no slaves near, that I could see. So it took me by surprise when he raised his hand and beckoned me. "Forgive me, basileus," I said, edging a hesitant step forward.
The emperor motioned me nearer, and held out his hand for me to kiss. I did so, and remained standing before him with my eyes downcast-as I had seen the magister do.
"We perceive that you are a learned man," Basil said. "How came you to be a slave to these barbarians?"
"Lord emperor, I was on a pilgrimage with my brother monks when our ship was attacked by Sea Wolves." I explained briefly about surviving the shipwreck and finding the Gaulish village. I concluded, saying, "The settlement was attacked that same night and I was taken captive." Indicating the cumtach resting in the box at the foot of the throne, I said, "The silver book cover offered to you as surety once belonged to us."
"Indeed?" wondered the emperor. "And your brother priests? What became of them?"
"Sovereign lord," I said, "I wish I knew. As it happens, I hoped the emperor might tell me."
Basil regarded me with a look of studied amazement. "We might tell you?" He laughed. "Although the emperor's knowledge of the events in the empire is exhaustive, it is by no means infinite. Why would a man of your learning imagine that we could provide you with an explanation of so obscure an event?"
"Forgive my presumption, basileus," I said, "but the pilgrimage of which I speak was to Constantinople; it was, in fact, to seek audience with yourself, sovereign lord, and present you with a gift both rare and precious."
"Truly?" The emperor professed himself to be fascinated and commanded me to explain further. "You have gained the imperial ear, bold priest-at least until the magister returns. Tell us more of this wonderful tale."
In all my days of captivity, I had never dared think, even in whimsy, that I might stand before the emperor and regale him with the story of my misfortune. But I was keen to learn the fate of my brothers, so up I spoke, casting aside all trepidation. I told the basileus about the abbey at Kells, and the making of the book; I told him about the choosing of the thirteen to make the pilgrimage, the preparations for the trip, and the storm that drove us across the sea and into the Sea Wolves' path. "I assumed the pilgrimage would continue without me," I said. "But unless the emperor tells me he has seen them, I must conclude that my friends turned back, or were killed in the raid as I feared."
Emperor Basil sat for a moment, thinking, and then said, "What is your name, priest?"
"Sovereign lord," I answered, "I am Aidan mac Cainnech."
"Aidan," he said, "it grieves us to tell you that your brother priests have not arrived in Constantinople. They have not come before us here. Devoutly do we wish it were otherwise, for judging by the cover alone, it would have been a gift worthy of veneration, and a tribute to your monastery's devotion. We are truly sorry."
The magister sacrum returned just then, and the emperor summoned him. I made to step away, but the emperor said, "Stay, priest." So, I remained beside the throne.
"Basileus," the magister said, "the komes have returned."
"They may enter," allowed Basil, and the magister withdrew. The emperor's smile grew sly as he said, "Now let us see what breed of vermin we have caught."
The magister reappeared, leading three young men, all dressed alike: they wore long, close-fitting tunics of yellow and blue with wide sleeves, and yellow breecs with the leggings tucked into the tops of high boots; short, gold-handled swords hung from their belts. The foremost of the three-slender as a sword, with dark hair and fine, sharp features-advanced swiftly to the throne and prostrated himself. "Rise, Nikos," said the emperor, recognizing the courtier. "Rise and declare before this exalted assembly that which you have discovered."
"Basileus," answered the man named Nikos, when he had regained his feet, "it would seem that our quaestor has been a very industrious man, and richly blessed of God in all his dealings."
"Enlighten us further." The emperor turned his gaze from the courtier to the worried visage of the harbour master.
Komes Nikos, a dark-haired young man with keen black eyes in a smooth, handsome face, held out his hands and two of the courtiers who had entered with him advanced bearing a large earthen jar. Nikos took the jar, raised it, and held it aloft. "With God and these men as my witnesses, this jar was found in the home of Quaestor Antonius, lord and emperor," he announced, his voice trembling slightly with the effort, for the jar appeared heavy. "With your permission, basileus."
Basil nodded, and Nikos let the jar fall. The pottery vessel struck the polished marble floor and smashed into splinters, releasing a cascade of gold and silver; hundreds of gold solidi and silver denarii splashed onto the floor.
Nikos, stooped, filled his hands with the coins, and let them spill from his fingers. "It would seem our estimable quaestor is either a most frugal man, or a most dishonest one. I am intrigued, emperor." He regarded the ashen-faced quaestor. "I would know how he acquired such wealth."
"Quaestor Antonius," called the emperor, "come forward and explain how you came by these riches. For we are persuaded that a man with a salary of two solidi a year could never hoard so much. Perhaps you sold property?" suggested Basil reasonably. "Perhaps you wagered on a race? Perhaps the Greens have given you the festival money for safe-keeping?"
Antonius stared sullenly at the money on the floor. "You had no right," he muttered to the courtier.
"By decree of the emperor, I was given the right," replied Nikos succinctly. His manner was that of a man enjoying himself with immense satisfaction, and immense restraint.
"We are waiting, Quaestor Antonius," said the emperor, raising his voice. "How did you come by this money? We require an answer."
Antonius, looking shaken and afraid, nevertheless raised his head. "Sovereign lord, the money which was found in my house is the inheritance of my family. It came into my possession with the death of my father, eight years ago."
"You certainly come from a very wealthy family, Quaestor Antonius," observed Nikos, his tone insinuating and accusing. "By the look of that pile, your father must have owned half of Pera."
"My father was a shrewd man of business," allowed Antonius. "It is well known. Ask anyone who had dealings with him."
"Shrewd indeed," said Nikos, stooping again to the heap of coins. He withdrew a handful. "It seems he must have saved much for the future-and well into the future. See here!" He held up a gold coin. "This solidus was struck only last year. And this one the year before. In fact," he sifted through the coins in his hand, examining them closely, "as I look at them, I cannot see any older than three years. Yet, you say they came to you eight years ago."
"I have been changing them-old for new," Antonius replied smugly. "I prefer new coins; they have a more uniform weight."
The slippery quaestor appeared to be wriggling away. His explanation, though hardly believable, was at least plausible; and, more importantly, there seemed to be no way of disproving it. Sure, he had anticipated this day a thousand times and had devised his story well.
I looked at the coins on the floor, and saw the silver cumtach of Colum Cille in the thieving quaestor's hands. The silver! "Sovereign lord," I said, surprising even myself with my suddenness, "if I may speak."
The emperor nodded slowly, his eyes on the quaestor.
"There are silver coins among the gold. Perhaps they might be examined as well." So saying, I bent down and stretched my hand towards the heap of coins.
Komes Nikos stopped me; taking hold of my wrist, he said, "Allow me to assist you, friend." Though he spoke politely, his grip on my wrist was uncompromising, and there was no friendship in his eyes.
I withdrew, allowing the courtier to sort through the pile, picking out the silver denarii. In a moment, he had retrieved a handful, and then turned to me. "There are not so many silver as gold," he said, "but a fair few. What is your interest in them?"
"Only this," I said, and walked to where King Harald stood silent and slightly bewildered; I held out my hand to him. "Your silver, Jarl Harald," I said, in Danespeak. "Give me some coins."
"What is happening here?" he asked, withdrawing the pouch from his belt at the same time. "What are they saying?"
"Patience, lord, it is soon over, and I will tell you everything."
The king grudgingly placed the coin bag in my hand and I returned to my place by the throne. Nikos had already seen what I had in mind, and said, "Reach into the purse, and take out a coin. I will take up one also. Now, show them to the emperor."
We both extended our hands with a coin on the palm. Emperor Basil examined each denarius in turn. "They are the same."
Nikos took several more coins from among those he had retrieved and inspected each one. "They are all the same, basileus."
"I would know, Quaestor Antonius," the emperor said, "how the coins of this Danish king have come to be in your possession. Do you maintain that they were also part of your shrewd father's bequest?"
"Lord and emperor," the harbour master replied, "those denarii are the most common coin in the empire, as everyone knows. Rather ask how this barbarian king came into possession of coins minted in Constantinople."
"These were not minted in Constantinople, Quaestor Antonius," said the komes. "They were struck in Rome, and all commemorate Theophilus." Stooping again to the heap, he sifted through the coins, withdrawing the silver until he had them all. These he counted. "Basileus," he announced, rising, "I would have you know that there are forty-five Roman denarii."
The emperor glared at his tax collector. "It appears that you have, to the very coin, the precise number of denarii this king has charged you with stealing. What is more, each is a Roman coin of the exact stamp as that from the barbarian's own purse. If you can explain, then do so."
The harbour master, brazen to the last, shrugged. "It is merely an unlucky chance, basileus," he said. "Nothing more."
"Oh, it is too much for chance, we think," declared Basil pointedly. The emperor gazed with cruel satisfaction at the unhappy quaestor and said, "Allow us to suggest another, altogether more logical possibility: that you stole this silver from these men and put it in the jar with the intention of changing it for solidi-along with all the rest of the denarii you have been stealing in the course of your duties. Further, Quaestor Antonius, it is our belief that, judging from the considerable extent of the evidence we see before us, you have been abusing your position as Master of Hormisdas Harbour for a considerable length of time." Emperor Basil sat upright in his wide throne. "That will stop."
"Sovereign lord," said Antonius quickly, "the gold is mine, I swear it on the holy name. I am telling the truth; it is my bequest. With all respect, you cannot believe these barbari."
"Respect?" asked Basil. "We wonder that you use such a word. You have shown little respect to us, or to your position. Still," the emperor said briskly, "though the silver is no longer in question, it is not proven that you stole the gold."
So saying, Basil beckoned the magister to him. The court official brought a wax tablet of the kind the prefect carried, and gave it to the emperor. Taking up the stylus, Basil began to write.
"Basileus," ventured the quaestor hesitantly, "it was but a small transgression. It is not a matter for prison certainly."
"We agree, Quaestor Antonius, it is not a matter for prison. That would be a cruel waste of a man of your impressive talents, and a loss to the empire. It is clear to us, however, that your present position is, shall we say, constricting to you."
Glancing up from his writing, the emperor allowed himself a thin smile. "The imperial mines are always in need of men such as yourself-men with an appetite for wealth, and an eye for the glint of silver. We are certain you will find the company of like-minded men most invigorating."
The former harbour master's mouth dropped open; he closed it and swallowed hard. "No…no…please Holy Jesu, no," he murmured.
Basil, having dispensed justice to his satisfaction, dismissed the matter. "Transportation has been arranged. You will be the guest of the emperor until your ship sails." He made a signal with his hands and five of the Farghanese stepped forward at once. Basil passed the wax tablet to the magister, and flicked his hand towards the bronze doors, saying, "Take him from here."
"My money!" said the quaestor, struggling forward as the guards took hold of him. "That is my money."
"Your gold will remain with us," Basil replied. "Wealth of this magnitude would only prove a hazard where you are going. In this, we are showing you far more charity than you ever showed us."
The bronze doors opened and the prisoner was hauled into the anteroom. He made one last attempt to remonstrate with the emperor, but the leading Farghanese silenced him with a sharp blow to the mouth and he resigned himself to his fate and allowed himself to be led away.
Emperor Basil gestured that the gold and broken pottery should be cleared away. Komes Nikos turned to King Harald and presented him with the recovered silver coins. "Your denarii, lord," he said, dismissing the king with a word.
Harald accepted the silver and then, in an act I have pondered often since, he stepped to the foot of the throne and, directing me to translate his words, said: "Most Noble Emperor, I tell you the truth: I came here to plunder your treasure stores and take to myself as much as I could carry back to Skania."
The emperor received this confession with good grace. "You are not the first to entertain such notions, Lord Harald."
When I had relayed Basil's words, the Sea Wolf king continued, "Now I find myself before you, and I look around me," he glanced around with wide-eyed admiration, "and I see such wealth as men in my country cannot imagine." Gesturing to the pile of gold coins on the floor, Harald said, "What is more, I see that men in your service are rewarded far more richly than can be told."
The emperor nodded with satisfaction. "You have had but a glimpse of the wealth and power of the Holy Roman Empire, and you realize the futility of clashing with that power. In this, you show wisdom, Lord Harald."
"It is true," agreed Harald readily, when I had translated the emperor's words. "And I ask myself, if a mere servant can amass such wealth, what may a king do? I have with me four ships and one hundred and sixty men. We have come seeking plunder, but will stay to gain wealth and renown in friendship with you, Great Jarl. Therefore, I place myself, my men, and my ships at your service, Most Noble Emperor."
Even as I conveyed these words, I wondered at Harald's audacity. Was he so confident, so arrogant, as to believe all his men would follow him in this grand gesture? So naive as to believe the emperor would accept his offer, and even reward him for it?
In this, I was the innocent. For, wonder of wonders, the Holy Emperor of Rome, Sovereign Lord of All Christendom, regarded Harald Bull-Roar, barbarian lord and plunderer, narrowly, as a man calculating the value of a horse, and made up his mind at once. "We accept your offer, Lord Harald. You will have seen that men of valour are welcome in my service, and they are indeed paid well. That you are seafaring men argues well in your favour: we have need of swift messengers just now, for the southern waters have become dangerous due to Arab raids.
"Therefore, let us put your fealty to the test. We are readying an envoy to Trebizond which will require an escort. Accept this service, and we will make you part of the imperial fleet. As it happens, the conventions of war at sea allow the victor to keep any spoils he should acquire when engaging an enemy. Naturally, we would extend this privilege to you, and even pray that you prosper."
Harald, when he had heard the cast of the emperor's thought, heartily approved of the plan. "We will meet your test, Lord Emperor," he said. "Your enemies will become our enemies. Our victories will be victories for you. I, Jarl Harald Bull-Roar, pledge this with my life and the lives of my men."
Perhaps Jarl Harald, himself a man of authority, recognizing a power far greater than his own had adopted the most prudent course; perceiving the might of the empire arrayed against him if he pursued the raiding scheme, his shrewd barbarian mind had contrived the best possible solution. Or perhaps God, toiling away unseen and unknown in the fertile soil of Harald's immortal soul, had sown the seed which now bore its unexpected fruit. However it was, the result both astonished and amazed me.
"We accept your pledge, Lord Harald," replied the emperor graciously. "And we will pray the Heavenly Father richly rewards your loyalty. Return to your ships and prepare yourselves." Gesturing to the magister, who produced his wax tablet, the emperor took up the stylus and began to write. "We will send the protospatharius to you tomorrow to arrange for provisioning. The envoy sails in three days' time." Passing the tablet back to the magister sacrum, Basil held out his hand for the king to kiss.
This time, Jarl Harald Bull-Roar bent his neck, and sealed his allegiance with a kiss. The emperor stood up from his throne and retrieved the golden bowl that lay at his feet and presented it to the wily Dane; then, descending from the dais, he stooped, and with his own hand swept a fistful of gold coins from the heap on the floor and poured them with a magnificent clatter into Harald's bowl as a wealthy merchant dispensing alms to a favourite beggar. The barbarian king smiled so broadly, and with such manifest delight, that the emperor repeated the gesture. I could not help noticing, however, that the silver cumtach received no further mention, and lay forgotten at the foot of the throne.
Basil then dismissed his new ally, saying, "Serve us well, King of Skania, and the glory and treasure you seek will be yours, as God wills."
Harald thanked the emperor and took his leave, saying he would return to his ships and await the emperor's pleasure. Then, following the magister's lead, we were removed from the imperial presence-eyes averted, we walked slowly backwards from the throne. Upon reaching the doorway, I paused for a last lingering glimpse of the marvellous hall, when the magister put his hand on my shoulder.
"The basileus would speak with you alone," he said, indicating the throne. I looked up to see Emperor Basil beckoning me to him. "Tell your king that you will be returned to him when the emperor has finished with you."
Harald, happy with his gold, grunted his gruff approval, and I retraced my steps to the throne wondering what God's Vice-Regent on Earth could want with me.