The magister returned for us eventually. We entered the throne-room to find Justin and the quaestor standing before the emperor. "Quaestor Antonius," intoned the emperor gravely as we resumed our places, "we have been hearing about some of your recent activities. Have you anything to say in this regard?"

"Sovereign lord," replied Antonius at once, his voice, like his expression, pure defiance, "a serious mistake has been made by these men. Possessing no knowledge of the currency of Constantinople, they have erroneously calculated the worth of their coinage and so believe themselves to have been cheated."

"A reasonable explanation," replied the emperor mildly. He pursed his lips as if in thought, laced the fingers of his hands together and brought them to his chin. After a moment, he spoke again, directing his question to Harald, "The harbour tax is paid in silver. Have you other coins like those you delivered to Quaestor Antonius?"

"I do," replied Harald, speaking through me. Withdrawing the pouch kept under his belt, he opened it and shook a few silver denarii into his hand.

These he passed to the emperor, who examined them briefly and selected one, observing, "They were not minted in Constantinople, but we believe such coins to be in plentiful supply here and elsewhere." Showing the coin to Harald, he said, "What is its value?"

"One hundred of your nomismi," replied the Danish king, when I had explained the question.

"Who told you this?" wondered the emperor mildly.

"That man." I conveyed the king's words, and Harald pointed to Justin. "Indeed, if not for the scholarae's aid, I have no doubt there would have been bloodshed and loss of life." This last I added on my own, thinking it important that Justin's part should receive its due.

The emperor merely nodded and continued with his examination. Holding up a silver coin, Basil asked, "What say you, Quaestor Antonius? Tell me the value of this coin."

"One hundred nomismi, basileus," the quaestor answered stiffly.

"So," Basil smiled. "We have established the question of value." Addressing the harbour master, he said, "King Harald of Skania has made claim against you, Antonius. He says you have reckoned but ten nomismi to the denarius. Is this so?"

"Exalted basileus," replied the quaestor, "it is not so. Such an error could not be made. The barbarian is certainly mistaken."

Basil pursed his lips. "Then the fault is the king's alone."

"Lord and emperor," replied the quaestor, adopting a more reasonable tone, "I do not say it is the fault of anyone. Indeed, I believe no one is to blame. I say only that the ways of Byzantium may be confusing to one so newly arrived. I have already explained this to him, but he chooses to believe otherwise."

"There," the emperor said, spreading his hands as if satisfied that he had penetrated to the heart of the mystery at last. "A simple miscalculation. As no harm has been done, we are happy to allow the matter to end here and send you about your business with our own good wishes." He paused, observing the effect of his words. "We excuse your ignorance, as we forgive the disturbance of our peace. Return the bowl, and we will speak of this matter no more. What say you?"

Harald's face clouded as I relayed what the harbour master had said and explained the emperor's words to him. "With respect, Jarl Harald," I said, "he is giving you a chance to withdraw your complaint without incurring the wrath of the empire. It appears the judgement has gone against you."

"Tell him about the token," Harald commanded.

"Lord and sovereign," I said, apprehension creeping over me, "the king has brought a token of surety which he would like to put before you in consideration of his complaint."

This revived the emperor's interest.

"There are barbarians waiting in the anteroom, basileus," the prefect volunteered. "Shall I cause them to be admitted?"

"By all means, prefect," said the emperor. "It seems we are to be overrun by barbari until this matter is resolved."

Some of the courtiers laughed politely and the prefect hastened to summon the remaining Danes. A few moments later, the bronze doors opened and four Sea Wolves stepped from the vestibule, two of them carrying the peaked treasure box between them. I saw the chest and my heart beat faster. The Danes came to where Harald stood and placed the treasure at his feet.

"Well?" asked the emperor impatiently.

"Basileus," I said; it was all I could do to prise my eyes from the peaked box, "King Harald has placed before you the assurance of his honour in this matter."

"Has he indeed?" With the merest movement of his wrist, Basil summoned the magister, who opened the lid of the treasure box to reveal, Jesu help me!-the silver cumtach. Sure, Harald would bring that as his pledge of faith and honesty. The book was gone, but the sacred cover had found its way to the emperor nonetheless. Oh, but it was not the way I would have chosen to deliver it.

The official knelt down, withdrew the priceless cover from its resting place and, still on bended knee, placed it at the feet of the emperor. Basil leaned forward, allowing the imperial eye to rest upon the exquisite silver tracery and jewels of the cover. Then Harald stepped forward and laid the emperor's golden bowl alongside the silver cumtach. "We see by this that you place a very high value on your word, King of the Danes."

The quaestor stared at the treasure incredulously, and I imagined that he was on the point of recanting his version of the events. But the moment passed, and the harbour master kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Magister," the emperor called, beckoning the official to him. He whispered something into the official's ear, whereupon the man nodded once and departed, walking backwards from the room. "Now we may learn the truth," Basil declared and, in afterthought, added, "as God wills."

Emperor Basil commanded that music should be played, and the wondrous organ we had heard on entering began once more. We waited, listening to the heavenly sounds of that most extraordinary instrument. The Danes grew restless; unaccustomed to spending so much time without shouting, drinking, or fighting, they shifted from one foot to the other with growing agitation. "How long are we to be made to stand here like this?" demanded Harald loudly.

"Peace, Jarl Harald," I soothed. "I believe the emperor is working out a plan."

He subsided with a growl and contented himself with scrutinizing the gold on display. Hnefi and Gunnar talked openly of how their fingers itched to be close to such riches, and yet unable to steal any for themselves. I might have been embarrassed by this, but as no one else knew what they said, it made no difference.

The emperor, for his part, deigned not to notice his barbaric guests' coarse behaviour. He sat back in his throne, folded his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes. When I thought he must be asleep, he roused himself and said, "Slave, come here."

There were no slaves near, that I could see. So it took me by surprise when he raised his hand and beckoned me. "Forgive me, basileus," I said, edging a hesitant step forward.

The emperor motioned me nearer, and held out his hand for me to kiss. I did so, and remained standing before him with my eyes downcast-as I had seen the magister do.

"We perceive that you are a learned man," Basil said. "How came you to be a slave to these barbarians?"

"Lord emperor, I was on a pilgrimage with my brother monks when our ship was attacked by Sea Wolves." I explained briefly about surviving the shipwreck and finding the Gaulish village. I concluded, saying, "The settlement was attacked that same night and I was taken captive." Indicating the cumtach resting in the box at the foot of the throne, I said, "The silver book cover offered to you as surety once belonged to us."