Byzantium

Father God, defend me, I thought. It would be a sorry shame to let your servant drown in beer!

Even as I loosed this prayer, I was yanked backwards, overturning the tub and spilling all the ale. I rolled onto my back, gasping for breath, squirming on the ground and shielding my head with my hands and arms against the heavy blows falling on me.

I glimpsed a red face swaying over me and heard an outraged cry. The Sea Wolf seemed to grow another head, for another face appeared on his shoulder, and it was Gu

The two rolled like snakes entwined, thrashing and sliding in the beer. I squirmed free of the fight and drew myself up a little apart. The hall's inhabitants, roused from their various stupors, quickly formed a ring around the combatants and goaded them on with taunts and cheers.

"Hrothgar!" shouted some. "Gu

Ragnar leaped up on the seat of his throne, clattering a spear against a shield, drawing the crowd's notice long enough to make himself heard. He shouted a command and the rabble surged forward, gathering up the fighting men and sweeping them out of the hall and into the yard where, cheering and shouting, they quickly reformed the ring.

Though the Dane called Hrothgar was larger, Gu

Hrothgar, unable to find any advantage over his opponent, broke off abruptly. He stepped back, lowered his head and charged like a bull, bellowing as he came. Gu

Hrothgar made to rise, but my master was on his back. Gu

Gu

I watched them go, but made no move to follow. For the sun was shining on a fine bright day and I had no wish to return to that dark, stinking hall.

"They were fighting about you, Irish."

I turned. "Scop!" The sight of him surprised and alarmed me. He stood red-eyed and haggard; sweat ran from him in rivulets down his neck. "Why would they fight about me?" I asked. "What did I do?"

"You drank from Jarl Ragnar's ale vat, and then offered the cup to Hrothgar." He shook his head in mock disapproval. "Most impolite that was."

He turned and began shuffling away. I called him back. "Stay. Please, Scop. I have been looking for you. I thought you would sing again."

The shabby skald slowly turned his head and gave me a sly wink and smile. "I throw my pearls to these swine only with greatest reluctance," he replied. "I sing when it suits me."

"Does this not displease Ragnar, your lord and master?"

Scop frowned and thrust out his chin. "Jarl Ragnar is my lord, but he is no master to me. I sing when I choose."

"But are you not a slave?"

"I was once. No longer. It took twenty years, but I am a free man now."

"Forgive me, brother, but if you are free, why do you stay? Why not go back to your people?"

The ignoble bard shrugged and shook back his rags. "This is my home. These are my people."

"That I can scarce believe," I told him.

"Believe it, boy; it is the truth," he spat, flaring suddenly. "God abandoned me here and left me to die. But I did not die. I lived, and while I live, I am my own man and I serve no one but myself alone."

"Then tell me, if nothing prevents you, how do you know Latin?"

Scop turned and began hobbling away. I fell into step a pace behind him. "Please," I insisted, "I would know how it is that you speak the cleric's tongue."

I thought he would not answer, for he limped on without heed. But after a dozen or so paces, he stopped abruptly and turned. "How think you I came by it?" he demanded. "Think you I found it at the bottom of my mead bowl? Or perhaps you imagined I went a-viking with the Sea Wolves and plundered it from some poor defenceless priest?"

"I thought no ill, brother," I soothed. "But it seems a very mystery to me, that is all."

"A mystery?" he wondered, rubbing his blackened neck with a dirty hand. "Dost speak to me of mysteries, Irish?" He glared at me. "Ah, mayhap you think your own speech mysterious."

"Nothing could be less so," I answered. "I am a priest. I was taught in the abbey."

"Well, I likewise learned my tongue that way."

"Indeed?" I could not keep the surprise out of my voice.

"Why amazed?" he countered defiantly. "Is that so unchancy? Do you find it beyond your narrow ability to believe?"

"I find it," I confessed, "most unlikely."

"Then tell me," he challenged, "which is the more unlikely: that you should find yourself a slave of the Danes, or that I should be sent out a priest among them?"

So saying, he gathered himself in his rags and stumped off, tatters flapping like the bedraggled feathers of a great, ungainly bird.

I did not see him again for, after more eating and drinking, and sport-the throwing of hammers and axes and, heaven forbid it! even pigs, which they caught and hefted into the air to the loud acclamation of their fellows-Gu

We walked through close-grown forest all the day, moving exceedingly slow, for Gu

At night we camped on the trail; Gu

We walked by day, Gu

As my master did not deign to speak to me-not that I would have understood him if he had-I had ample time to think. Mostly, I thought about my brother monks, and wondered if any had survived, and if so, what had become of them. Would they return to the abbey? Would they continue on to Constantinople? Since the blessed book had not turned up with the plunder, I reckoned some of the brothers may have escaped, and that our treasure had not been discovered.