The Sword of Damascus (10 page)

‘Put your backs into it!’ I croaked at Edward and the able-bodied oarsman. ‘If we don’t get a move on, they’ll try to cut us off.’ But the chaos of shouting and running back on the docks hadn’t yet resolved itself into effective action. By the time their boat was setting out, we were already three-quarters back to the ship. I could see the anchor as it was pulled up and hear the beat of the drum as every man raced to take his place at the oars. Four arms of differing strength lifted me up and pushed me against the side of the ship. Two hands from above took hold of my wrists, As I was jerked into the air, someone else grabbed the waistband of my tunic. In an instant, I was back on deck and pushed into the arms of Wilfred, whose only response was to try carrying me back to the daybed from which I’d been plucked so very long ago – or so it now seemed. Needless to say he failed, and it was Edward who finally disentangled the pair of us and placed me with some show of reverence on the stained cushions.

An atrociously ugly but admiring face snarled down at me as I lay, exhausted, back on to the cushions.

‘Have you managed to drink all the wine yet?’ I asked weakly.

The face looked at me a moment longer, then vanished.

Chapter 11

‘So, apart from this exchange off Kasos,’ I asked again, ‘you have no idea what Hrothgar was about?’

Edward looked across the table with tear-swollen, still terrified eyes. He shook his head.

‘Well,’ I said with a hard smile, ‘you can take that as a lesson to have something in writing.’ There had been nothing. There should and could have been nothing. Most likely, Hrothgar had been illiterate even in the runes our people used before the light of Rome broke in to shine so benevolently upon us all. But I’d watched as Wilfred and Edward went through the man’s cabin. Not a scrap of writing. And I believed Edward when he insisted that he’d been kept throughout on a need-to-know basis.

I pulled my wig off and dumped it on the table. Wilfred’s first act once we were away from Cartenna and he’d recovered from his fainting spell had been to wash the paint off my face and pull my new clothes back into shape. I was vastly tired. I was beginning to hurt all over from the strain and the bruises. But I was enjoying myself far too much to give in to that. Yesterday, I’d been poor old Brother Aelric, schoolmaster and close prisoner. This morning, I’d nearly been food for the larger fish. Tonight, I was again – or as near enough as mattered – His Magnificence the Lord Senator Alaric. Now, the three of us sat in what had been Hrothgar’s cabin, deciding what to do next. Correction –
I
was deciding.

There was a polite knock at the door. One of the less ferocious northerners sidled in. Had I any orders for dinner?

‘I’ll have some of the pickled lamb,’ I said with a lordly wave. ‘Do make sure to cut it up small and cook it tender. With it, I’ll have bread soaked in whatever milk you have.’ There had been no supplies from Cartenna, and I didn’t feel that hungry. But prestige called for a dinner of sorts. And I could do with some more of that Spanish apology for wine.

‘Oh,’ I added, ‘and do please send in your friend with the green eyes. For want of anyone else, I’ve decided to appoint him pilot of this ship. We need to discuss a change of course for tomorrow.’ I waited for the door to close, then turned back to the boys.

‘I’m not going back,’ Edward said yet again. He squeezed his fists tight. ‘I’m not going back. Any orders you give I’ll countermand. You forget that I’m now in charge of this ship.’

‘I beg to differ, young man,’ I said grimly. ‘The moment Hrothgar choked out his last breath ashore, you lost whatever position you had on board this ship.
I am the master now
.’ There was a slight exaggeration here. If its crew was treating me with scared reverence, it was plain I was barely more in charge of the ship than a rider was of a bolting horse. Yes, everyone had been awed by my achievements ashore. They appreciated that I actually knew where we were. And they hadn’t refused my offer of twice whatever Hrothgar had been paying them – twice that, and pay­­able in gold the moment we made contact with Theodore in Canterbury. But calling myself their ‘master’ was putting things rather strong. Still, I was as near as mattered in charge. Certainly, Edward would have to adjust to his altered position on board. And I had no intention of making it other than a bitter demotion.

‘Richborough strikes me as by far the most suitable destination,’ I went on, ‘by far the best for all of us.’ Edward opened his mouth to argue again. I glowered at him until he shut it. I thought he’d burst into more tears. But, though his shoulders shook, he fought off the attack. ‘So Richborough it will be,’ I said with a nasty smile. ‘For Wilfred and me, it will be special prayers of thanks for our safe return. For you, it won’t be quite that. But I’ll get you a very gentle penance. I’ll even have you back in my class – this time under your own name, assuming it’s other than Edward. Before then, however, there will have to be some kind of penance. I am mindful of your services earlier today. But it doesn’t make up for your part in getting Wilfred and me on to this lunatic voyage. And killing a monk isn’t something the Church can wholly overlook.’

The boy looked up. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he cried.

‘Come now, boy,’ I snarled. He shrank back before a glare that had terrified emperors. ‘Don’t try denying something when the facts speak for themselves. You sucked Cuthbert off till you puked. Then you cut his throat so you’d be the one who opened the gate. I don’t think anyone is missing a man like that. No doubt Benedict has already found a better teacher of logic among the surviving villagers. But since no one probably gives a shit about poor young Tatfrid, you can take the blame for Cuthbert. I’ll ask you some other time about the two groups who turned up outside the monastery. For the moment, you’re an accomplice to what I consider bloody murder, and penance you’ll do for it.’

‘There will be no trip to Constantinople?’ Wilfred broke in. The shock of my coup on board had forced all thought of dying from his mind, and there now seemed a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I shook my head. Being ambushed in Cartenna was neither here nor there. I could put that down to local causes. The real problem was the change of emperor. Justinian might be friendly for old times’ sake, and I could be sure that any Circus execution was right off the agenda. But I didn’t suppose there would be any plans to kill the fatted calf in the event of my return. The new ministers could be trusted to see to that.

‘Your place is in England,’ I said reassuringly.

Wilfred nodded, now obedient.

‘Besides, we don’t really know what was agreed with Hrothgar. Edward is sure there was talk back in Jarrow of an exchange in Kasos, but has no idea where Kasos is, or when the exchange might be. Is that so, Edward?’

He nodded.

‘Well, Kasos is a little speck that lies between Crete and Karpathos. It has a nice harbour, but is also rather close to the seas where the Saracens may again dominate. We aren’t going there.

‘No,’ I said firmly with a little gloat at Edward, ‘we’re going home. For all the wind may be blowing from the west, it’s back west we’re headed.’

The gloat was too much for Edward. He reared up and shouted, ‘I’m not going back to England! I’m never going back. I’ve got this far into the world. I’d rather die than go back to England.’

‘Be that as it may,’ I sneered, ‘you’re going back. You’re going back to do whatever penance I get you. After that, you can study for the Church, or go off and fight for someone, or, failing that, dig in the fields. And if you try anything naughty between here and Richborough, I’ll have you flogged and then clapped in irons.’

I overate at dinner. Or perhaps I drank too much. Whatever the case, I had what I suppose I should think the most awful dream. I was back on my diverted ship to Athens. The sun shone bright overhead. The waters sparkled all about. I was naked again. I held my arms up and bathed in the glorious warmth. I thought of my own appearance and felt the usual stiffy coming on. It swelled and swelled into a mighty erection. I looked about me. The sailors were all hard at work with their ropes. No one was looking. I thought of my cabin below. But this was an urgency that wouldn’t wait even the brief drop down the ladder into the cool darkness. Again, I looked about. Even if every eye had been turned in my direction, I was too far gone to care. I flopped down against the mast and gently stroked myself. I almost went off at once, but squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on delay. When I was ready, I began again with the lightest strokes. My nipples were stiff with excitement. I could feel the sweat running down my back. I groaned and paused again.

‘Let me help you, Master,’ I heard Edward say in English.

I opened my eyes and looked at him, trying to work out who he was, and then how he could be here with me.

‘You haven’t been born yet,’ I said through dry, trembling lips. As he smiled silently back at me, the clothes melted from his body, and he knelt naked beside me. I put a damp hand on his back and pulled him towards me. I kissed him and breathed in the smell of his body. He took hold of me and pressed very hard. I put my hands on to his shoulders and looked into his eyes. He smiled steadily back. I looked at him until a great ball of white fire went off behind my eyes and bleached out all other visual sensations. All sense of time, of space – even of personal identity – followed, as I passed deep into the blaze of annihilation the more insane mystics try and fail to describe.

At last, it was over, and I lay trembling on the deck. Still looking at me, Edward smiled with a calm tenderness. And rested a hand lightly on my chest.

As I finally relaxed and let my eyelids droop, he said, ‘
Ya a’khy, anta ygeb a’n takon alkhalifa
.’ I opened my eyes and looked at him. With a strange smile, he repeated himself. He was speaking, I realised, in Saracen. ‘O, my brother, you shall be Caliph,’ he was saying. How could I understand what he was saying? I asked myself. What did it mean? But he smiled again and pointed down at my crotch. I followed his pointed finger. With a cry of terror, I was on my feet and brushing at myself. Writhing in the sticky mess that covered my belly and thighs were thousands and thousands of black maggots. I brushed at them, and they fell on to the deck. I looked at my right hand. They squirmed and wriggled between my fingers. Already, some were crawling on my wrist and forearm.

‘Welcome to Hell!’ I heard Priscus call from behind me. ‘Isn’t this what you’ve always deserved, you corrupt bastard? Yes, welcome to Hell, my shitty young Alaric! This is the beginning of the punishment you’ve long deserved.’

His grating laughter still sounding, I woke with a start and lay sweating in my cot. I tried to sit up, but found I couldn’t move. Gradually, I came back to my waking senses, remembered who and where and when I was. Except for the steady grinding together of new timbers, all was now silent about me. Instinctively, I reached down to my crotch. Certainly, I’d had an orgasm. Still cold with horror, I rubbed the watery-thin liquid between forefinger and thumb. For all the seed I’d cast off, I might have pissed myself. But I was alive and here and very, very old.

I laughed. Was that any improvement on the dream? I laughed again, and now felt the griping in my belly. It was the disgusting food, I told myself – that, or the still more disgusting drink. I lay in the cot, farting softly. That gave some relief, but wasn’t enough to settle me. I carefully relaxed my sphincter muscle and waited. I was right. That sour milk had gone straight through me, and was now sloshing insistently against its final exit. Unlike the dark, semi-cupboard below in which I’d previously been shut at night, Hrothgar’s cabin up here on the deck had no night bucket. I could choose between shitting the bed and going in search of the common bucket on deck.

I pushed back the blanket and sat up. Since old Aelric had never yet fallen into geriatric incontinence, His Magnificence the Senator Alaric would definitely have to go for a walk. I reached out in the darkness for my walking stick and got unsteadily to my feet. The weather had cooled astonishingly since Wilfred and Edward had carried me to bed. I felt about for an old under-tunic that had belonged to Hrothgar, and stepped out on to the deck. I didn’t suppose I’d be all alone out there. As usual with this rather strange ship, we hadn’t put into shore for the night, or even dropped anchor, but were drifting in open waters. That meant there would be someone up on the mast to keep watch. But even if I were to be seen, my helpless doddering old fool act was now superfluous. There was a gentle but increasing motion of the ship, and I’d need to keep hold as I felt my way down to the stern, where the night bucket was placed. But I could and would easily manage that for myself.

Chapter 12

Most of the pleasures that men discuss, and write books to praise or analyse, are best enjoyed when young. Just as satisfying in your nineties, though, as in your twenties, is a good shit. Indeed, my dinner was nicer to evacuate than it had been to swallow. I relaxed and savoured the relieved emptiness in my guts, and, seated on the bucket, looked up at the splashes of light that I saw in place of stars. All things considered, I had no reason to complain. Forget my bizarre dream – I’d just had a wonderful shit. And, if I was hurting all over, I hadn’t broken anything in the escape from Cartenna. I was reasonably clean. If there had been no supplies in the end, I was now master of a crew that had, only that morning, been prepared to butcher me. Above all, I was still alive!