Hereward 04 - Wolves of New Rome (26 page)

‘Men do not run unless they have something to hide.’ Wulfrun had ghosted up to his side and was looking up to the top of the column. His face was as graven as the statue atop it. Deda allowed himself a secret smile. So grim, these guards. Did they not see that life was good?

‘Men run for many reasons,’ he replied. ‘Some of them are even good.’

The commander shrugged. ‘We shall see, once he has answered all our questions, and given up those who aid him.’

‘Plots?’

‘Everyone plots.’ Wulfrun looked around. ‘Where is your wife?’

Deda searched the crowd until he saw Rowena’s head bobbing as she laughed with two other women. He was pleased. She had made friends quickly, as was her way. For a while he had feared that wrenching her away from all she had known would be like a blade to the heart. But she was wise, wiser than him. The old ways were gone and they would not be coming back, Rowena knew that. A fresh dawn, in a new home, where they could live their lives as they hoped, was all she wanted.

Leaving her friends, she hurried over. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Wulfrun. ‘I have never known a man of the fens to be so mirthless. Did you lie to us when you said you came from Barholme?’

‘Barholme lies behind me,’ Wulfrun replied without emotion.

‘You cannot escape your days gone by. They are always with you.’ Rowena’s words were playful, but Deda thought he glimpsed a shadow flashing across the commander’s face.

‘Come.’ The guardsman turned and walked towards the east.

When Rowena glanced at Deda with one eyebrow raised, he pressed a finger to his lips to caution her not to tease Wulfrun any more. Sighing a little too loudly, she brushed her shoulder against his in a silent promise that she would comply with his wishes.

When they left the forum, they strode to that part of the city where the wealthy merchants and senators lived. The dome of the Hagia Sophia rose up against the blue sky ahead.

Rowena marvelled at the fine, large houses on either side. The white walls were pristine. Pots of sweet-smelling herbs stood outside each door so that visitors might break a sprig and perfume their fingers as they entered. Here the streets were brighter, cleaner, not like the ones surrounding the shack where they had found lodging on their arrival. No beggars, no roaming dogs, no drunken men fighting in the filth. And yet Deda saw that Wulfrun’s fingers never strayed far from the hilt of his sword, and his eyes continually searched the alleys between the houses.

‘Never have I seen a place filled with so many wonders,’ she whispered. ‘And so many folk here! This must be the greatest city in all the world.’

Deda could not disagree. In their short time in Constantinople, he had met not only Englishmen and Danes, but Franks and Arabs and Jews, Syrians, Armenians, Lombards and Hungarians, and others he could not identify, with hair like raven-wings and narrow, slanting eyes. All the peoples of the world were in the process of making their way to this place, it seemed.

Wulfrun brought them to a halt outside an oddly shabby house with, Deda thought, an unsettling air hanging over it. ‘The house of Nepos,’ the commander said, waving a hand towards the door. ‘I promised to find you work. Here is your new home.’ He narrowed his eyes at Deda. ‘The Nepotes will not pay you. Do not shame them by asking. Come to me for your coin. Understood?’

The Norman nodded. This was an odd arrangement, he thought. But he would not question the kindness, if that was truly what it was.

A slave admitted them to a cool, quiet house. Deda looked around, puzzled by the stark surroundings. In England, a hall like this would be filled with gold chalices and plate, with sumptuous tapestries covering the walls. Hard times must have fallen upon his new employers.

‘Wait here,’ Wulfrun commanded. He stepped through an archway into an adjoining chamber where he was met by a young woman with hair that gleamed golden in the sunlight streaming through from the courtyard at the rear. After a brief exchange, she glanced over and flashed a sweet smile.

‘She is pretty,’ Rowena breathed. ‘It seems our fierce Varangian is in love.’

Deda gave a wry smile. ‘Sadly, it afflicts the best of us.’

The young woman disappeared and returned a moment later with a boy and an older woman, her auburn hair streaked with silver. Though still attractive, the Norman thought how sad she looked. But when she came over to them, a smile lit her face. ‘I am Simonis, mistress of this house, and this is my daughter, Juliana. We welcome you to the house of the Nepotes.’

‘And we thank you for providing us with shelter,’ Rowena said with a bow.

‘You will earn your keep,’ Wulfrun interjected.

Juliana laughed. ‘So gruff!’

The commander’s eyes darted towards her, but he remained solemn. Deda was pleased to see that the other man took no offence at the teasing. Perhaps there was more to him than there seemed. ‘Your mistress will find you work aplenty,’ he said to Rowena. Turning to Deda, he continued, ‘The boy’s name is Leo. His father is ailing so he is the man of this house and there is much that he must learn to do his duty. Teach him your skills.’

The Norman bowed to Leo. ‘I am honoured. I have no doubt you will be a good student.’

‘Will you show me how to use a sword to kill?’ the boy asked. His look seemed too old for his age. Remembering the harsh days of his own childhood in Normandy, Deda felt a pang of pity for whatever had advanced the lad’s years so fast.

‘Knights use a sword to fight for honour,’ he replied with a smile. ‘I will teach you about honour, if you so wish.’

As he turned away, Rowena caught his eye and a look flashed between them: a brief flare of hope that finally the days of struggle and threat could be put behind them.

When Simonis and Juliana led Rowena away to show her her duties, Wulfrun pulled the Norman to one side. ‘You are satisfied with this?’

‘Of course,’ Deda said. ‘I am in your debt that you have found work for a man and a woman from beyond this city’s walls.’

‘In Constantinople it matters not where a man comes from, nor a woman either, only what they can do. Men from all countries are running the emperor’s offices, and owning land, and making good coin as merchants.’ He held out his hands. ‘And here am I, an English mud-crawler, well paid for my services to the emperor himself. A good man will thrive here. A weak man, a poor man, will not survive. Make sure you are one of the former.’

‘I will.’

The commander leaned in so he would not be overheard. ‘I have more work for you than teaching the boy. I cannot always be around so I would have you guard this family too, as part of your duties.’

‘They need my protection?’

‘You will soon encounter a visitor to this house. Victor Verinus. He is vermin, feeding upon all the good things in life, and he is the source of much of the Nepotes’ misfortune. I would not have him cause more.’

‘And what would you have me do when I meet this man?’

Wulfrun sighed. Deda could see that this question had troubled him for a while. ‘Do not confront him. He is too powerful.’ He pointed two fingers to his eyes. ‘Watch. Whenever he is under this roof, watch, and hear all. And watch …’ the word hovered on his lips, ‘watch him around Juliana. See that she comes to no harm.’

The Norman nodded. He understood what the other man was saying.

‘And protect yourself. Victor Verinus will not like it that there is a spy in the house. Keep out of his way at all times.’

‘I have spent many a day around powerful men with tempers as taut as a bowstring,’ Deda said in a wry tone, ‘not knowing if I am to be given wine or the edge of a blade. That is a good way to learn how to keep your head attached to your neck.’

‘Good. Report back to me alone.’ Looking around one more time as if Victor might be there listening, Wulfrun nodded and took his leave.

As the day wound on, Deda sat with Leo and listened to him read. The boy was too serious, rarely smiling at any of his teacher’s humour. But he was driven, and determined to learn all that he could to help his kin. The knight understood that. His own father had been a hard man, but he had instilled a sense of duty above all else. Later Deda let the boy take him to meet his father, Kalamdios. The older man’s troubles were great indeed, the Norman saw. He was locked inside a useless body, with hands that could only twitch and grasp. And yet his eyes were keen with a fierce intelligence, passion even. The knight felt unsettled that he could not read what he saw there. Was it hatred for the world, despair at his lot in life, or something else?

At dusk, Deda was gnawing on a thin meal of bread and salted fish in the courtyard when he heard a booming voice. Setting aside his food, he strode into the entrance hall where a tall man with a leathery face and long grey hair looked around as if he could smell something unpleasant. He fixed a cold eye upon the new arrival.

‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Deda. I am a knight.’ He offered a friendly smile and a slight bow.

The other man cocked his head, listening to the accent. ‘A Norman?’

‘Yes.’

‘It is not enough that you nibble at our western borders, now you see what you can loot from the city itself?’ Contemptuous, he fluttered his fingers at the surroundings. ‘You will find little in this place.’

‘I am only here to serve the Nepotes.’

At that the man laughed. ‘What gain is there in that?’

‘A roof, and food.’

The visitor’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who brought you here?’

Deda did not answer.

‘A knight, you say?’ The tall man prowled around him. Deda sensed eyes sizing him up. ‘What use do the Nepotes have for a knight?’

‘I could not say. I would wager there could be some, or I would not be here.’

‘And they have coin to waste upon another mouth to feed?’ The visitor was musing, but the Norman could hear an edge of suspicion growing in his voice. ‘How low you must have fallen to accept this work.’ A jab, to provoke a reaction.

‘There is no dishonour in serving.’

The man’s laughter rumbled out. ‘Honour? Let that fill your belly!’

Deda heard the clatter of feet on flagstones as Simonis swept in with Rowena at her heels. The mistress flushed when she saw her guest. ‘Oh … Victor.’

The knight nodded. The identity of the visitor was no surprise to him. Men like Victor Verinus thrived in Normandy, where even the duke had to fight for his power. Perhaps this land was not as strange as he had first thought.

‘Leave us,’ Simonis snapped, and when Rowena hesitated for only a moment, the mistress’s voice cracked louder: ‘Go!’

As the English woman hurried out, she flashed a puzzled glance at Deda. With a shake of his head, he silenced her, pretending to follow her out into the courtyard. But once in the twilight, he pressed a finger to his lips and turned back.

Creeping through the hall, he followed the sound of voices. ‘The time for your games has passed, Simonis,’ Victor was saying.

‘What games?’

‘Do not test me. I speak of Juliana.’

In the dark by a doorway, Deda came to a halt. Candlelight cast dancing shadows on the wall of the chamber. Simonis seemed to be pouring her guest a goblet of wine.

After a long period of silence, she said in a quiet voice, ‘If you want her, why do you not take her?’

The shadow lifted the goblet high. ‘Where is the joy in that? She must come to me … perhaps creeping on all fours. Give herself to me, freely. I want her to prostrate herself before me and beg for my cock in her cunt.’

Deda grew cold at the other man’s cruelty. Now he understood well why Wulfrun had set him on watch.

Simonis must have taken too long to respond for Victor snapped, ‘Would you resist me?’

‘I do your bidding, you know that. That is the pact we agreed.’

Victor grunted. ‘You would be wise to heed me,’ he continued, calmer now. ‘Everything is changing here in Constantinople, and soon. If you fear my power now, that will be as nothing to what is to come.’

Simonis tried to speak, but the words were muffled, incomprehensible. Deda could not understand why.

Victor seemed to understand her, though. ‘That is right, wife of my hated enemy. Soon, perhaps only a few nights hence. All has been leading to this. The loss of Arcadius dealt a blow to my plans, but there is always another way. Be patient, wait for an opportunity, and one will surely come. And then all will change.’

Simonis said nothing.

‘I will seize my opportunity with both hands,’ Victor growled. ‘A river of blood will be spilled. Doom will come to all who stand in my way. But great power always demands a high price. Strength is required to see it through, and there are so many who are weak, eh, Simonis?’ He laughed quietly. ‘Bring Juliana to me, or all that you have suffered so far will pale before what is to come when I have achieved all the power I could ever imagine.’

As Deda slipped away, he felt dread licking at his spine. The threat against that innocent girl was as real as Wulfrun had feared. But there was more, much more.
Blood. Doom
. What horrors were unfolding, here in the city of light?

THE GULLS SHRIEKED
above the mast. Land could not be far away, Hereward thought as he rode the deck of the stolen ship. Beside him, Kraki brooded as he mended the net that had brought them sustenance on the long journey across the whale road.

‘What is on your mind?’ the Mercian asked.

‘England,’ the Viking replied, but Hereward knew he was really thinking of Acha.

‘You are free to return. William the Bastard will have too much on his mind to care about one lone warrior returning from the east.’

Grunting, Kraki shook his head. ‘You would be lost without me.’

As he searched the blue horizon for the first signs of land, or sight of Ragener’s ship, the Mercian felt pride that his men had stood by him. He was on a cold quest for vengeance now. The gold and glory of Constantinople would come later. Once they had left the massacre in the basilica, it had been easy to find a ship to steal. Siward’s men were busy looting Sabta under a pall of black smoke, and the seamen of the old town were too distracted to watch their vessels in the harbour. And Maximos and Salih ibn Ziyad had been eager to accompany them on the voyage.