Since our presence in Trebizond was impossible to hide, I attempted to make our appearance both brief and unassuming. We would linger in the city only so long as it took to provision the ships. Once aboard, we would sail immediately-thereby thwarting any interference from the duplicitous magister and his unseen minions. Accordingly, I held counsel with Jarl Harald to discuss how this might be accomplished.

"Before anyone knows to stop us, we will be gone," Harald said confidently; he had regained his former bluff manner, if not his entire strength. The Danes are a sturdy race; hardship seems only to make them stronger. Harald and his men had recovered from the privations of slavery wonderfully well; they were almost completely restored and eager as I was to return to Constantinople. "I will go to the harbour and make the necessary preparations. When I send word, you come and we will sail at once."

"What if the ships are not there anymore?" I asked. Never once did Harald display the slightest doubt, but insisted his ships would still be waiting for his return and that the crews would be ready. While I wondered at his simple faith, he laughed at my unbelief.

"You will see," Harald said, and chose men to go with him. They were soon lost in the early-morning bustle and crush of people making their way into the city. Meanwhile, I explained our plans to Faysal. "What if his ships are not there any longer?" Faysal wondered, scanning the crowded road uneasily.

"Harald says his men would starve to death before they would abandon their king."

"They are so loyal, these Wolves of the Sea?"

We settled ourselves outside the city gates to wait, hoping Harald's trust in his men was not woefully misplaced. The king had been absent a long time, after all. But before the sun had passed midday, one of the Danes returned. "The ships are soon sea-ready. Jarl Harald says come to the harbour now."

Trebizond appeared exactly as we had left it; nothing had changed-which surprised me somewhat, for I felt a lifetime had passed since I had last threaded my way through the narrow streets to the harbour. This time, however, I was painfully aware of the attention we were attracting, and feared that the city's soldiers would appear at any moment to challenge us; but we passed unhindered, and proceeded directly to the wharf where the four longships lay at anchor.

Once there, we were greeted warmly by the Danes, forty-four in all, who had stayed behind. Gunnar stood on the quayside with happy tears streaming down his face, while his friends pounded him joyfully on the back. Sure, I too was overcome by the sight of Tolar and Thorkel and the rest, looking much the same as the day we had left them on the wharf. While the world had turned through its three seasons they had stood at their duty and guarded the dragon-headed ships against the expectation of their king's imminent return: an exemplary feat of pure childlike faith.

The Sea Wolves' jubilation at the appearance of their king and comrades was nothing beside their amazement at the wealth the Jarl brought with him. Their rejoicing, however, was soon swallowed in the feverish rush to board everyone and set off. We were, of course, forced to abandon the horses and camels; Faysal chose three men to stay behind and look after the animals, charging them to establish camp outside the walls and await the amir's return.

"They are so loyal, these rafiq?" I asked, turning his question back on him.

"Allah willing, they will wait until their beards grow to touch the ground," he replied.

"And then?"

"They will shave, and wait some more."

What with his crew so brutally decimated, Harald no longer commanded enough Sea Wolves to man four ships, and had been forced to the onerous expediency of hiring seamen to help man the ships-Greek fishermen, mostly, who agreed to go to Constantinople where they could find work on other ships. He hired fifty-three, and would have taken more, but there were no more to be had at any price.

As soon as the last water cask was lashed to its companions, and the last of the rafiq scrambled aboard, the Sea Wolves took up their long oars and pushed away from the wharf. As the wind was favourable, Harald ordered the handsome red-and-white banded sails to be raised while the ships were still in harbour. Although such practice was certain to draw the harbour master's condemnation, the jarl cared nothing for that, thinking only to get away as swiftly as possible. Thus, in less time than it takes to tell it, the four longships sped from Trebizond like wild geese loosed after lengthy captivity.

Harald, glad to be his own master once more, took his place at the sternpost and commanded Thorkel, the pilot, to steer a course that kept us far from sight of land. I asked him if this unaccustomed caution arose from fear of Sarazen pirates, but he spat and said, "The emperor owes me much silver for my pains, and the sooner we reach Miklagard, the sooner I will be paid."

I could but marvel at the audacity of the man. Even after all that had happened, he still considered himself in the emperor's employ, and meant to collect his wages. Nor had he forgotten the debt Nikos owed him-an account he meant to collect in blood.

The tented platform behind the mast, where Harald was wont to keep his treasure, became the amir's sickbed. As soon as we departed the harbour, I went to see how he fared. Faysal and Ddewi had hung the amir's sling between the mast and one of the supports of the platform; Sadiq lay covered only by a cloth of the lightest material. He seemed peacefully asleep, and if not for the white band swathing his head instead of his customary turban, he might merely have been a man taking a well-deserved rest.

"There is little change," Kazimain informed me when I asked. She appeared haggard, her eyes dull and her skin pallid; her lips were dry and cracked. The journey and its consequent demands of caring for her stricken kinsman had used her cruelly.

"Has he woken?"

Not trusting her voice, she merely shook her head.

"The worst is behind us," I said, trying to comfort her. "He can rest for a time now-at least until we reach Constantinople."

At this, Ddewi raised his head and regarded me with interest. "How long?" he asked. The question, though simple, surprised me; it was the first time I had heard him speak since escaping the mines.

"No fewer than twelve days," I answered. "Thorkel says if the wind stays fair, we shall make good time."

"Twelve days," he mused, returning his gaze to the amir's unmoving form. "That is good."

Kazimain noticed my look of mild surprise, and smiled. "Yes," she said, "he speaks now. No doubt, you have been too busy to notice."

"I am sorry, Kazimain. If I have seemed preoccupied, it is not-"

"Shhh," she soothed. "I did not speak so to rebuke you, my love. I know your thoughts are elsewhere."

She returned to her duty, and I curled myself into the curve of the bow to take a nap. No sooner had I closed my eyes, however, than Harald's bellow roused me. "That one may be trouble," he said, pointing to a square red sail visible against the buff-coloured hills. Another ship with a blue-and-white striped sail could be seen moving eastward along the coast, following the established sea path.

"Perhaps he will turn aside when he reaches deeper water," I suggested.

"Perhaps," agreed Harald doubtfully. "We must keep our eyes on him, I think. He is very fast, that one."

The red ship did not turn into the sea lane when he reached deep water; he proceeded on steadily, following our wake, seemingly content to hold back as the distant hills dwindled behind us. Harald read this as a bad omen. "He is waiting until we are out of sight of land," Harald said. "Then he will make his move. We have a little time yet to prepare."