Free TLV - 01 - The Golden Horn by Poul Anderson Page A

of dismissal.
    "Oh, I am sure you will, Araltes. A strong man like you ... It isn't my duty and they may frown on it, but I'll put in a good word for you, I promise. We have so many enemies, all those dreadful Saracens and . . . and all. And the Pope in Rome says we are heretics, imagine that!" Zoe leaned forward breathlessly. "You will have to fight very hard. God be with you in your battles."
    "I trust He will, despoina."
    "Remember that you fight for the Emperor," she said with a sudden earnestness, "and that God has set him over us, and that in spite of those horrible stories you hear Michael is the best and most gallant Emperor we have ever had." A rush of blood went up her rouged cheeks, and something glowed in her eyes. "Remember that, Araltes! The Emperor is not well, but he bears it bravely and . . . and . . . well, he is the best in the world."
    As Harald left, he reflected that in one respect Ulf had been wrong. Even this mist-brained creature could love.
     
    IV
    How Three Made Merry
     

1
     
    After a time, an official informed Harald that he would indeed be the next commander of the Varangian Guard. Since that would require dignity of him, he decided to celebrate freely while he still could.
    With pleasantly jingling purses, he, Ulf and Halldor pushed through the crowds and racket of the streets. It was a cool, sharp day, wherein a wind raised whitecaps on the Bosporus and rocked ships berthed in the Golden Horn. Almost, he thought with a little wistfulness, this was Norse weather.
    The Hippodrome saw use only a few times a year, but there were always the theaters, and his band sought one. Never had he seen jugglers so skillful, acrobats so lithe, magicians so crafty; it was as if Elf Hill had opened before him. Lions, tigers, bears, elephants danced, balanced, bowed their heads at the will of one brightly clad man. Comely young women writhed onto the stage and disrobed while music tweedled lustfully. The Northerners beckoned again and again to wine sellers in the aisles.
    When the show was done, Ulf led the way backstage. An attendant protested vainly; Harald picked him up and set him in a corner with his face to the wall. Halldor flung open the door of the women's dressing room.
    Ulf spread his arms grandly. "Who's for a barge on the water?" he called.
    A tall girl did not coo and flutter like the rest, but drew nigh, smiling. "I've heard tales about a king among the Varangians, a mountain of a man," she said. Harald laughed and threw an arm around her waist.
    Coin made the manager agreeable when he arrived. The Norsemen picked half a dozen lasses to come along. A pleasure boat, already hired, waited at the docks. Its cabins were rich with cushions, carpets, tapers, refreshments. Musicians played as oars sent the craft out upon the strait.
    Harald led the tall girl into one room. "What is your name?" he asked.
    A shadow crossed her. "I am called Bernice. But what does it matter?"
    His hands fumbled at the clasps of her dress. "Why, one as fair as you matters greatly."
    Bitterness edged her voice. "And when I am old and shriveled, and wait in my rags for whatever man may come by, down in the shadow of the Hippodrome arches? I could have wed once, but he seemed a dull sort. Now ..." She snapped the words off and her mouth was suddenly hungry on his, as if she would draw forgetfulness from him.
    But she was smiling again and combing tousled hair when they went out on deck to watch the shore slide by. In this wise did the day pass.
    At dusk, when the land was growing starry with the lights of houses, the barge moored and the warriors said farewell to their partners. As the women left, Halldor wiped his mouth to get rid of the rouge that clung there. "I'm thirsty," he complained.
    "Too much wine," said Ulf. "The cure for that is more."
    "Belike so. Anyhow, I'd fain be among men for a while."
    "Not all night, I hope. But follow me; I know a place."
    Ulf guided his friends down broad avenues and lesser streets until