The next morning, King Harald prepared to receive the protospatharius aboard the longship. I marvelled at the eagerness with which this red-bearded plunderer donned the garb of civilization. I watched him stride about the deck, ordering the ship for inspection by the Overseer of the Fleet, and I thought: yesterday he was but a raiding rogue, and today he is a loyal defender of the empire.

At midday the anticipated official arrived in a small boat with four men in blue cloaks; they all wore brown belts and low-crowned, wide-brimmed black hats, and a black cloth pouch hung at his side on a leather strap over his shoulder. As an official of the imperial court, he carried a rod of ebony which had a bronze knob on either end.

The overseer and his men came aboard bearing greetings from the basileus and a parchment document recognizing the jarl and his men as mercenaries in service to the emperor. "I am Jovian, Protospatharius of the Imperial Fleet," he told us, and presented the sealed parchment to Harald, who received it with genuine gratitude, and sat bathed in bliss as I read it out to him. The two then sat down to a meal of black bread and fish and ol; they ate and talked most amiably and then applied themselves to the business at hand: negotiation of the amounts and methods of remuneration for Harald's service.

The emperor, it transpired, had placed the value of Harald's service at a thousand nomismi each month. There ensued some confusion over this, however, and it was explained that a month was to be understood as the duration of time between one full moon and the next.

"That is a hundred silver denarii every month," I told him. "I think that is very good, Jarl Harald."

Hnefi and Orm, sitting close by, heard the number and could not believe their good fortune. "Jarl Harald," they said, "it is more than we got raiding all last summer!"

But the marauding Dane was not accustomed to accepting the first offer. "It is enough for me and the use of my ship perhaps," he allowed cannily. "But I have four ships and a hundred and sixty men. What am I to give them?" While I translated his words, the king fixed the courtier with an uncompromising stare.

"I did not know you had so many men," replied Jovian. "Perhaps some allowance might be made for them." After a brief conference with his underlings, he said, "Shall we say two thousand nomismi? One thousand for you and your ships, and another thousand for your men. What say you to that?"

"That is less than ten denarii for each man," Harald complained.

"But it is more than most of them have ever held in their hands at once," pointed out Hnefi.

"Nay," declared Harald with a slow, obstinate shake of his head. "Ten for each man." I conveyed the king's answer.

"Eight, perhaps," suggested the overseer cautiously. "And I will allow your men a share of the theme bread."

Harald listened to the offer, considered it, and extended his hand in the barbarian manner. The protospatharius regarded the king's hand with a bemused expression.

"It means he has agreed," I informed the official. "If you agree, clasp his hand thus-" I made a shaking motion with my hands to show him how it was done.

Jovian grasped the Sea King by the hand and sealed the bargain. That settled, they then turned to a discussion of the rights, privileges, and duties of the Danes as new-made subjects of the realm. Lastly, they decided how, when, and where provisions for the voyage were to be collected, and the means by which the Sea Wolves were to join the other ships of the imperial fleet making their way to Trebizond. Needless to say, I spent the day translating between them; it was tedious, but I learned much to my advantage about the emperor's fleet, and the nature of the voyage under contemplation.

I understood that it was to be more than a simple trading party, although trade was indeed part of it, for Trebizond, owing to its location at the furthest extent of the eastern frontier, had long supplied Byzantium with its silks, spices, jewels, and other essential luxuries which, I quickly learned, the Arabs controlled. Each year, a great fleet of merchant ships made its way to Trebizond for the trade festival which was held in the spring. Delegations from all over the world attended the festival.

Recently, however, the Byzantine delegation had been running afoul of Arab pirates who preyed on ships passing to and from the market, which created the necessity of sending an escort of warships to protect the merchants-a costly exercise, and one which the imperial navy would rather avoid, all the more since the ships were increasingly needed elsewhere. For this reason, the emperor was risking the winter seas in order to send an envoy to arrange for a council with an entity called the Caliph of Samarra. If the council proved successful and the raiding could be brought under control, much expense and bloodshed might be avoided at next year's festival.

It was late in the day when the protospatharius finished his business and departed. I begged leave to return to the city, thinking I might worship again in one of Constantinople's churches, or even receive word from Justin as to the fate of my brother monks, but Jarl Harald would not allow it. He demanded I tell him what had passed between the emperor and myself the day before.

I had hoped he would not ask, but in the event I had already decided that I would tell him the truth-at least, as much of the truth as I could without betraying the confidence of the emperor.

"You returned to the ship late in the night," the king pointed out. "I am wondering what use the emperor made of my slave."

"Jarl Harald," I answered, "it is true that I was long absent from your side. The emperor wished to speak with me about the voyage to Trebizond."

"I see," the king replied, in a way that suggested he did not see at all why the emperor should bother himself about me.

"I believe he was grateful to you for bringing the harbour master to justice," I suggested, side-stepping the issue slightly.

"Ah, yes," replied Harald, as if remembering the incident was a strain on his mind, "the harbour master. Nothing else?"

"The emperor believes that he cannot trust many of his court officials," I offered. "That is why he makes such liberal use of mercenaries-men who prosper with his success, but have nothing to gain at his demise. He is well disposed to reward those who earn his pleasure."

"This Basil is shrewd, I think. He uses well the tools of his craft," Harald mused. "Did he ask about me?"

"About you, Jarl Harald? No, he did not ask me anything about you, or your affairs. But I can tell you that he appeared well satisfied with the bargain between you and him. In any event, he said no more about it-only that he found such alliances useful because he could place little trust in others."

"Heya," observed Harald absently. Obviously, I was not saying what he expected to hear. He was silent for a moment, and then said, "You will stay on the ship until we sail. This I have decided."

He dismissed me then, and I went to the prow of the ship and hunkered down in the sharp V-shaped nook formed by the high-swept keel and sides. There, below the fierce painted dragonhead, I turned my face to the planks, closed my eyes, and tried to impose some small order upon the chaos of my thoughts. Sure, this had been a most confusing run of days for me, and I was feeling the strain of trying to swim against the tide of swift-moving events.

To begin: I had arrived at the city of my death. Strangely, this no longer frightened me. I suppose I had lived long enough with the knowledge for any fear and dread to have abated. And now that I was here, I felt nothing-save an ambiguous curiosity. My lucid dreams never foretold falsely, however; experience had long ago taught me that what I saw never failed to come about. Still, I had arrived in Constantinople, I had walked abroad in the city, and yet I lived. I did not know what to make of that.