Byzantium

"Some come for Euthemius's feast, I suppose," he allowed with a shrug of indifference. "But most come for the fair."

I had heard this word before, of course, but his use of it was strange. Upon inquiring, I was told that a fair was a gathering, not unlike a market, where people might buy and sell, and also enjoy special entertainments and diversions over many days. "The Trebizond fair is well known," the merchant assured me. "People come from the far ends of the empire and beyond just to attend-Christian and pagan alike, everyone comes."

He spoke the truth with no exaggeration. For the Christ Mass came and went, strictly observed, yes, but stiffly and with very little warmth. I did attend a Mass, out of curiosity rather than desire, and I could not find it in my heart to pray. The worship seemed perfunctory to me; even the singing lacked interest. All in all, I thought it a dismal observance-though, perhaps my own feelings of desolation coloured my perception; I was still bitterly disappointed with God, and in no fit mood to regard the birth of his son, to whom I was no longer speaking.

Deep in my i

The only glimmer of anything that even faintly resembled happiness or good will came from the barbarians. The Sea Wolves made a noble and determined attempt at a celebration: jultide, they called it-a seven-day orgy of eating and drinking and fighting. They contrived to brew their ol, and procured six sheep and four bullocks for roasting, though they would rather have had an ox or two and some swine. As there was nothing to prevent me, I joined them for part of their festivities at the quay where they had taken over a sizeable portion of the wharf, having erected large tent-like shelters made from their ship's sails.

"I am missing Karin's rokt skinka," Gu

Tolar nodded sagely, and stared into his cup. "The glogg is good."

"True," agreed Gu

"Heya," Tolar replied, then thought perhaps he had said too much, for he rose abruptly and went to find a jar to refill the cups.

Thorkel and two other Danes staggered by just then and settled at the table with us. "Aeddan, old Sea Wolf!" cried Thorkel. "I have not seen you for fifty years!"

"You saw me yesterday, Thorkel," I told him.

"Ah, yes, so I did." He smiled happily. "This is the best jul ever, but for the snow." He paused, his smile fading in a sudden upsurge of melancholy. "It is a pity about the snow." He shook his head sadly. "I miss that."

"Not the cold, however," amended Gu

Tolar, just returning, overheard this remark and shook his head solemnly. He did not miss the cold, either.

"Nay, not the cold," agreed Thorkel wistfully. "You can keep the cold." He looked at me blearily, guzzled his drink, and asked, "What do the folk of Irlandia do for the jultide?"

Though I had no wish to discuss it with drunken barbarians, that is exactly what I did. "We have no jul, but celebrate the Christ Mass instead," I told them, and went on to explain something about it.

"And is this god the same as the one hanging on the gallows?" wondered the pilot. "The one Gu

"It is called a cross," Gu

"That is so," I agreed. "He is Jesu, called the Christ."

"How do you know so much about this?" inquired one of the Danes with Thorkel.

"Aeddan here was a priest of this god, and he was my slave before Jarl Harald got him. He knows all there is to know of such matters."

"Beware, Gu

"Ha!" cried Gu

The others were much impressed with Gu

"No, he will not," I told them, bitterness welling up in me like venom. "He does not help anyone! He does what he pleases and heeds nothing of men or their prayers. He is a selfish, spiteful god, demanding everything and giving nothing. He is fickle and inconstant. Sooner pray to your rune stones-at least a stone will listen."

Stu

They all agreed that this accounted for my sudden contrariness regarding this Christ, and determined among themselves that whatever I said, the opposite must be true.

"You ca

The discussion was curtailed just then when a wrestling match began. Two big Danes stripped off their clothes, laved olive oil over themselves and began to grapple with one another on the quay. A crowd quickly gathered around them, and wagers were made. The fight, however, settled into a rather lacklustre and disappointing tussle. The spectators were on the point of abandoning interest in the contest when one of the wrestlers, stepping too near the edge of the quay, fell into the harbour. His opponent, seeing his chance, dived into the water after him, seized him, thrust him under the surface and held him there until the unfortunate wretch collapsed from lack of air. He would have drowned if the other had not let him up when he fainted.

This produced a most remarkable consequence, for no sooner had the first wrestler been hauled from the water than another Sea Wolf threw off his clothes and jumped into the harbour. He, too, was bested and was soon dragged unconscious from the cold sea. The next to enter the fray fared better. He bested the first opponent and the next three in turn, but fell to the fourth, who then took on all comers.

This water wrestling proved enormously popular with everyone. Even King Harald tried his luck, and lasted through three opponents before succumbing. With each new contest, wagers were laid and money changed hands. The sport continued for two days before they had had enough, and everyone agreed that it was one of the best jultide games they had played.

Thus, we wintered in Trebizond. Gradually, the days began to lengthen and the weather to turn. When at last the sea roads opened once more, the ships began arriving from other parts of the empire. The eparch and amir looked to the conclusion of their talks, and the merchants to returning home. Meanwhile, streaming into the city by all and every means, came a veritable torrent of people, from as many tribes and nations as could be counted.