He passed the skin to me and I held it to the fire and bent my head low over it. Much worried and wrinkled, the skin was dirty and faded, but there were yet legible a few letters and fragments of Latin words. "How did you come by this map?"

"My father was Thorolf, helmsman to Jarl Knut of the Straying Eye; he bought it from a helmsman in Jomsborg," Thorkel declared proudly. "This fellow got it from a merchant in Frencland-or was it Wenland?-I do not remember which. It is very valuable."

Thorkel's map soon proved its worth. Two days later we arrived at the trading settlement known as Kiev.

Set on the broad bank of the Dnieper, Kiev had grown from a small Danish trading outpost into a large market town carved out of a forest of birch, beech, and oak, surmounted by a hill on which was erected a large timber fortress where, it was said, the masters of Kiev stowed all the silver they took in trade. Furs of mink, marten, beaver, and black fox, silk cloth from the east, swords and knives, glassware and beads, leather, amber, ivory in walrus tusks and horn of elk and reindeer-all this and more passed up and down the river, and the trading lords of Kiev took their toll in silver denarii and gold solidi.

There were seven ships moored along the riverbank when we arrived, and two more joined us soon after; these had come up from the south where their crews had spent the summer trading with the Slavs and Bulghars. They were Danemen-some of them were from Sjalland, and others were from Jutland-keen traders all. Indeed, it was Danes from Skania who had settled Kiev to begin with, and most still spoke the Danish tongue, albeit with a strange embellishment.

King Harald ordered his four ships to be roped together and ten men to stay behind to guard each one, as he did not trust the other Danes to leave his boats in peace. Not until he was satisfied with these precautions did he allow anyone to go ashore, and then not until everyone had sworn a solemn blood oath not to breathe a word of our destination, lest any of the other Sea Wolves took it into their heads to raid the City of Gold and ruin our chance of taking the citizens by surprise.

Then the king gathered his karlar around him and made his way into the market. The first thing he did was buy a goat, a sheep, and four chickens, which he took directly to a place in the centre of the market surrounded by a half-circle of tall poles. The ground underfoot was damp, and the place stank of blood and rot; the skulls of various animals lay scattered about the open ring of posts.

Harald advanced to the centre of the ring. There, before an upright post carved with the likeness of a man, the king threw himself down upon his face. "Jarl Odin," he cried aloud to make certain everyone heard him, "I have come from afar with four longships and many good men. We have come seeking good trade and much plunder. And now I have brought you this fine offering!"

So saying, he raised himself up, drew his knife and promptly slit the throats of the animals which his karlar held for him. Beginning with the goat and the sheep, he slaughtered the poor beasts and collected some of the blood in a wooden bowl as it gushed onto the ground; this blood he smeared on the post and flung onto the surrounding poles. The chickens he beheaded and threw into the air so that the blood could spatter all around, on the post and also the poles, which were Lord Odin's wives and children. When the animals were dead, the king divided up the carcasses, leaving choice pieces for the god and sending the rest back to the ship for his supper.

This commotion was, I think, performed more for the purpose of impressing the Kievan merchants than any desire on Harald's part to honour Odin, Thor, and Freya. But despite the bawling and thrashing of the animals and the king's loud proclamations, the bloody sacrifice failed to elicit even fleeting interest from Kiev's populace. No doubt the tired spectacle bored them.

The rite observed, King Harald strode confidently into the marketplace and arranged for water, grain, and salt pork to be supplied to his ships. The men, meanwhile, took it in hand to discover the other, less overt-but by no means less prominent-trade of Kiev. There were large dwellings at one end of the market square below the fortress before which were long benches, and on these benches were assembled a number of young women who, like everything else in Kiev, were for sale. One could purchase them outright for a price, and many men found suitable wives this way. For a lesser price, however, one might purchase a small measure of wifely companionship.

It was this companionship which appealed most to the Sea Wolves. Harald had forbidden anyone to bring a woman aboard his ships, and anyway most of the men had wives at home. The king had less prurient concerns on his mind, however.

He was not seeking trade or companionship, but information. Thorkel had heard it said-and so his map seemed to indicate-that south of Kiev lay enormous whirlpools and cataracts which could smash even the strongest ships. Harald wished to know how these dangers might best be avoided; he hoped, if possible, to find a guide, or at least to learn what other traders knew of the river further south.

To this end, Harald wandered the marketplace, pretending to admire the wares and engaging the various traders in conversation. At the king's behest, Thorkel and I accompanied him on his sojourn among the merchants in the event our skills were required. Most of the merchants, as I say, spoke Danish, or could at least make themselves understood in that tongue. Even so, we learned little for our efforts, as the merchants were interested only in dealing and trade and kept steering any inquiries towards the value and quality of their particular wares. On all other subjects they were reticent to the point of rudeness.

"I am thirsty," Harald declared at last. We had walked the length and breadth of the market, enduring shrugs, silence, and insults for our trouble. "Some ol, I think, will help us decide what to do."

Crossing the market square, we directed ourselves to one of the larger houses, distinguished by the small mountain of ale casks stacked haphazardly outside. Several women were sitting on the bench, watching the activity of the market and enjoying the thin sun. At our approach, they began preening for us, to show their virtues to better advantage, I suppose. They were odd-looking women: black, black hair as fine as spider wisp, and deep dark eyes lightly aslant in full-cheeked faces round as moons, firm-fleshed short limbs with skin the colour of almonds.

The king paused to observe them, but found little to his liking and walked on into the house, which had been constructed on the order of a drinking hall, but with an upper gallery where, from sleeping places like stalls, people could look down on the proceedings below. Long benches lined the walls, with boards and trestles set up around a large square central hearth. A few men sat at the tables eating and drinking; more sat on the benches with jars in their hands. The huge room was loud and murky and dim, for there was neither windhole in the wall, nor smokehole in the roof, and everyone seemed bent on shouting at one another. One step into the room and I felt the gorge rise in my throat from the stink of vomit, dung, and urine. Filthy straw covered the floor, and skinny dogs slunk along the walls and cringed in the far corners.

Harald Bull-Roar had no difficulty in making his presence known. He strode boldly into the room and cried, "Heya! Bring me ol!" The whole house shook with the force of this demand, and three dishevelled men scrambled to serve him-each with a jar of ale and several large cups. They sloshed the rich dark beer into cups and thrust them into our hands. I got one, but Thorkel and Harald got two each, which they guzzled down greedily-to the ardent encouragement of the jar-bearers, who vied with one another to keep our cups supplied.