Hawk Quest

XLVIII

Permission to call on Sir Walter arrived next afternoon. Vallon left with Hero and Wayland. He’d insisted on Drogo being housed in separate accommodation and had no intention of allowing him to confront his brother at this stage.

Two Seljuk escorts led the way. ‘When are you going to tell Walter about Drogo?’ Hero asked.

‘I’ll pick my moment.’

‘He’s bound to suspect a double-cross.’

‘I know. I should have killed Drogo the night we landed, but without him and Fulk we wouldn’t be here. It’s hard to slay in cold blood a man who’s fought at your side and lost a close companion.’

The escorts marched ahead to a small pavilion on the other side of the encampment. One of them shouted through the door flap in Turkic. A voice answered in the same language. The Seljuks called again and the entrance opened and a slender young man wearing eye shadow hurried out covering his face. ‘Tch! ’ the escorts said. One of them smacked the youth across the head and gave him a tongue-lashing as he hurried off. Vallon stared ahead with his mouth slightly pursed.

The escorts pushed the callers into the tent. Vallon entered the carpeted interior first, Wayland lagging behind Hero. Walter lolled on a divan, dressed in a loose Persian gown, a flask of wine and two empty cups beside him on a large brass tray. His puzzled expression showed that he had no idea who they were. He rose, looking from one to the other. He appeared much as Vallon had envisaged — tall and broad of shoulder with wavy yellow hair and a square jaw deeply cleft. Perhaps a suggestion of jowliness, a slight bagginess beneath the eyes. His smile revealed perfect white teeth.

‘You have the advantage of me. Are you diplomats? Have you arrived on a mission from Constantinople?’

‘I’m Vallon, a Frankish soldier of fortune. This is Hero, a Greek scholar. You already know-’

But Walter had recognised the figure standing inside the entrance. ‘Wayland? My God, I don’t believe it.’ He strode forward and placed his hands on Wayland’s shoulders. ‘It really is you. How tall you’ve grown. How serious you look.’ He turned to Vallon. ‘My head’s spinning. Does this have anything to do with the ransom?’

‘Yes. It would take a day to tell the whole story.’

‘Master Cosmas?’

‘Dead. He tried to raise your ransom in Constantinople. When that failed, he set off for England with Hero. I met them in the Alps as Cosmas lay dying and I agreed to continue the journey. We reached your home in February. Your mother pawned her lands in Normandy to raise funds for your release. We’ve been making our way here ever since.’

Walter opened his mouth, but too many thoughts and conjectures got in the way of speech. ‘I’m neglecting your comfort. Please sit. Let me order you some wine.’ He went to the entrance and shouted. As he returned, he ran a hand over Wayland’s back and his smile flashed. ‘Dear Wayland. All this way for love of your master.’

Vallon and Hero perched on the edge of the divan. ‘Before you ask,’ said Vallon, ‘I travelled here with the intention of claiming the reward you promised to Cosmas.’

‘The Gospel of Thomas and the letter from Prester John,’ Hero said.

Walter glanced towards the entrance. ‘Where’s that servant?’

Vallon slid one of the cups on the tray. ‘We interrupted at a delicate moment. He probably didn’t want to disturb you while you were entertaining company.’

Walter’s smile froze. ‘I’ll serve you myself.’

He fetched clean cups. His hand shook as he poured.

‘The gospel and letter,’ Hero repeated. ‘Do you still have them?’

‘They’re safe,’ Walter said, handing them their wine. ‘Not here.’ He raised his cup. ‘So my mother raised the ransom money?’

‘Part of it.’

Walter drained most of his cup in one draught. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that my mother’s estate would raise a quarter of the sum Suleyman demanded.’

‘We’re not redeeming you in gold. The Emir specified an alternative. Two casts of white gyrfalcons. We’ve spent the best part of a year on that chase.’

‘And you have them?’

‘We have one — one falcon that is.’

‘Only one?’

‘The rest died.’

‘What does Suleyman say?’

‘He’ll announce his decision this evening.’

Walter set down his cup and grimaced. ‘This is awkward. Worse than awkward. If the ransom specified four falcons, he won’t settle for less.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Wayland tended the falcons with the utmost diligence.’

Walter kept his smile, just. ‘You know, Vallon, it might have been better for me if you’d never come.’

Vallon regarded him with bleak intensity.

Walter looked away. ‘A mercenary, you said. Perhaps you’d care to tell me more about what set you on this course.’

‘The gospel and the letter. We can discuss my motives at length another time. For now, it’s more important that you tell us what sort of man Suleyman is.’

Walter picked up the flask and held it out. Vallon covered his cup. Walter refilled his own and settled back into the cushions. ‘He’s the son of Kutalmish, a cousin of Alp Arslan and a former contender for the Seljuk empire. When Kutalmish died, Suleyman and his three brothers were branded traitors and forced to flee for their lives into the Taurus mountains. Alp Arslan sent expeditions against them and succeeded in killing all the brothers except Suleyman. When he left the mountains, it was as commander of all the Turkmen in southern Anatolia.’ Walter took a draught. ‘That tells you all you need to know about Suleyman’s character.’

‘Why did the Sultan reward him with the title of Emir?’

‘He had little choice. Suleyman’s army is too powerful for Alp Arslan to crush. Besides, it suits the Sultan to have a strong Seljuk force in western Anatolia. Suleyman’s territories are a buffer against the Byzantines, and the Sultan knows that the Emir won’t attack him in Persia because that would mean leaving his own lands exposed.’

‘So Suleyman covets the Seljuk throne.’

‘He’s more interested in consolidating his position in Anatolia. Since Manzikert, he’s been exploiting the power struggle in Constantinople, allying himself first with this faction, then with that one. Don’t be fooled by his coarse manners. Suleyman’s as shrewd as they come.’

‘You don’t sound too concerned about your own situation.’

‘As you can see, it isn’t an uncomfortable one. I’m a valued member of the Emir’s war council. He’s convinced that Christendom will wage a crusade against Islam, striking first at the pilgrim routes now controlled by Suleyman. He looks to me for advice on military strategy, particularly the use of heavy cavalry. I’m also active in his negotiations with the Byzantines.’

‘So you’ve changed sides.’

That touched a nerve. Walter thrust forward, spilling his wine. ‘The Byzantines are on no one’s side, not even their own. The Emperor Romanus lost Manzikert because of treachery within his own ranks. The Sultan released him with full honours in exchange for a peace treaty and a marriage alliance. And what did the Byzantines do? They dug out his eyes and drove him into the wilderness with his head full of rot. When the Sultan heard of his murder, he declared the treaty void.’

Vallon hadn’t touched his wine. ‘Have you petitioned the Emir for your freedom?’

‘No.’

‘And if you did?’

Walter considered. ‘I think he’d grant my request.’

‘Why haven’t you asked to be released?’

Walter turned the cup in his hands. ‘The truth is, I find the life to my liking. I drink wine instead of sour ale, eat grapes and peaches in winter, wear silks and brocades. I earn a handsome commission from my dealings with the Byzantines. I’ve no burning desire to return to that cold castle in the north and spend the rest of my life skirmishing against savages. When I inherit on my father’s death will be soon enough.’

‘Have you been in touch with your family?’

‘I sent letters this spring. I haven’t received a reply yet. The only news I’ve heard from England is that my half-brother Drogo was killed campaigning in Scotland.’

Vallon put down his cup. ‘Your parents are much as you left them. Your half-brother Richard is dead. He joined us on the expedition and died of an arrow wound at the mouth of the Dnieper.’

‘Richard? Richard was in your company?’

‘A much-loved and much-mourned companion.’

‘I’m distressed to hear that. Poor Richard. I always suspected that he would never reach manhood. Whatever possessed you to take such a weakling with you?’

‘He volunteered. He was desperate to get away from your family.’ Vallon stood, ignoring Hero’s signals to remain.

Walter rose. ‘Leaving so soon?’

‘We’ll meet again tonight before the Emir.’

Walter stepped forward. ‘Wayland. Don’t you go.’

Everybody stopped.

Walter threw his arm around Wayland’s shoulder. ‘Remember the hunts we enjoyed together? They were nothing compared to the sport we’ll share in Anatolia. Bears, lions, leopards — creatures you’ve never even seen.’

Vallon noticed how strained Wayland looked. ‘Do you want to stay?’

Wayland shook his head.

Vallon took his elbow. ‘Come on then.’

Walter gripped Wayland’s other arm. ‘You don’t have any say in the matter.’ He was still smiling. ‘Wayland’s my personal property, affirmed by legal process. You probably heard how I found him starving in the forest and took him into my household.’

‘Norman law carries no weight in these parts. If Wayland wants to rejoin your service, I won’t stand in his way. He can answer in his own words.’

‘Is that a joke? The boy’s dumb.’

‘I’m not your slave,’ Wayland said. ‘I serve Vallon as a free man.’

‘That seems clear enough,’ said Vallon.

He led the way out. Walter caught up with them. ‘Not so fast, Vallon. How much did my mother raise on her estate?’

Vallon kept walking. ‘A hundred and twenty pounds.’

‘It must be worth at least twice that.’

‘It was all the moneylender was prepared to advance. I’ve got the papers.’

‘How much is left?’

‘Nothing. It’s all gone.’

‘You’ve spent more than a hundred pounds of my mother’s money and all you have to show for it is one gyrfalcon?’

‘The price was much higher than that.’

‘How much have you kept for yourself?’

Vallon halted. ‘Not a penny.’

Walter only just stopped himself from poking Vallon in the chest. ‘Coming from a mercenary, I find that hard to believe. I expect a full accounting.’

Vallon looked at Walter’s outstretched finger. ‘One thing I have to add. You were misinformed about your brother’s death. He’s here, lodged in the Emir’s camp.’

Walter’s face went blank. ‘You told me that Richard died on the Dnieper.’

‘I’m talking about Drogo.’

The blood drained from Walter’s cheeks. ‘Drogo was killed in Scotland.’

‘He travelled north, that much is true. But only in pursuit of us and with the aim of wrecking our attempt to win your freedom. I know it casts a bleak light on our enterprise, but when I explain the circumstances that led to-’

‘Say no more.’ Walter backed away, pointing. ‘You swagger into my quarters claiming that you’ve come to redeem me, and in the next breath you casually admit that you’ve brought Drogo.’

‘Sir Walter, let me explain.’

‘There’s only one explanation. The moment I looked into your cold eyes, I knew I faced an enemy.’

Hero forced himself in front of Vallon. ‘Let me speak. Sir Walter, the very fact that Drogo is here argues our good intentions. If we meant you harm, do you think we would have willingly brought along your worst enemy? Give me leave to explain how we were saddled with his company.’

But the old sibling rivalry had tapped into a part of Walter’s brain immune to reason. A strangled sound escaped from his throat. ‘I don’t know what plot you and Drogo have hatched, but I warn you not to trifle with me. The Emir holds me dear. When I tell him you came here with murder in your hearts, you’ll find his reaction cruelly disappointing.’

On the walk back to their lodgings, Vallon saw Hero darting glances of reproach.

‘You think I handled the encounter badly.’

‘Dismally. Why couldn’t you have been more diplomatic?’

‘It wouldn’t have made any difference.’ Vallon looked back, shaking his head. ‘The ingrate didn’t even thank us for our efforts.’ He stalked on through the camp. ‘God help me, I almost prefer Drogo.’

Hero hurried to keep pace. ‘We’ll never see the lost gospel now.’

‘We lost our chance when the ransom hawks died. One thing Walter said was true, and I didn’t need him to confirm it. I saw it at last night’s audience. The Emir isn’t a man who’ll soften his terms.’

They entered their quarters and Vallon fell onto his bed, covering his eyes with his forearm. Hero wandered about in a pall of misery.

The entrance flap parted and Drogo looked in, wearing a smile from the gallows. ‘Well, how did you find him?’

Vallon breathed deep. ‘Less charming than his reputation had me believe. To think that Richard and Raul sacrificed their lives for that vain wretch. And here’s what makes the pill even harder to swallow. It seems that Walter’s free to leave whenever he pleases. Or he was. Our arrival without the full ransom only complicates the situation and makes him resentful rather than grateful.’

Drogo laughed. ‘How did he react to the news of my presence?’

‘With fear, rage, blind hatred. He’s not without influence in the Emir’s court. If I were you, I wouldn’t walk alone at night and I’d employ someone to taste my food before eating it.’

Drogo looked down on Vallon with something close to pity. ‘You should have listened to me. You wouldn’t have grasped the challenge so eagerly if you’d known what kind of man my brother was.’

Vallon uncovered his eyes. ‘If we knew the outcome of our actions before we committed to them, we wouldn’t get up in the morning.’

Prayers mingled with smoke as the company made their way to the Emir’s pavilion. Stars streamed across the plateau in a misty arch and a splinter of moon hung between the icy cones to the south. The throne room was packed. The Emir must have decided to make the occasion a public demonstration of his judicial wisdom. He carried a ceremonial mace and sat aloof, picking his nose, while the infidels abased themselves. Faruq ordered them to stand.

‘Certain new facts have reached his Excellency. He’s asked me to examine them.’

Vallon could guess who’d brought them to the Emir’s attention. Walter stood to one side of Suleyman’s counsellors watching Drogo with a stare you could have strung beads on.

‘I’ll deal with this,’ Vallon told Hero. He bowed to Suleyman before addressing Faruq. ‘Excuse my poor Arabic. What little I have I picked up while I was a prisoner of the Moors in Spain.’

Murmurs rippled through the crowd and those at the back stood on tiptoe to get a better view.

Faruq hushed the chamber. He didn’t speak until the loudest sound was the guttering of the oil lamps. ‘Here is the first difficulty. You say that you came here to rescue Walter.’

‘There was no other motive.’

‘Yet you brought with you his step-brother, a man who nurses hatred for Walter.’

‘Drogo’s presence wasn’t part of my plans. The very opposite. He tried to thwart our efforts at every turn. When we escaped from England he was so determined to stop us that he followed us to Iceland.’

‘Where you had him at your mercy.’ Faruq pointed at Drogo. ‘Yet look. Here he is.’

‘He’s a hard man to get rid of.’

‘You could have killed him.’

‘I could, but if I had, we wouldn’t have completed our journey.’

The interpreter cupped his chin. ‘Oh, yes?’

‘Drogo fought bravely with me against the Vikings and Cumans. After standing shoulder to shoulder with a man in battle, it’s hard to dispose of him.’ Vallon glanced at Suleyman. ‘It is for me, anyway.’

Faruq began to pace, enjoying his role of prosecutor. ‘So, you allowed Drogo to live.’ He smiled at the audience and they responded with sceptical shakes of the head. He whirled and shot out an accusatory hand. ‘Do you deny that you used the moneys entrusted to you by Walter’s mother to line your own pocket?’

‘Every penny was spent on the enterprise. We kept accounts. Examine them if you wish.’

‘But you’re a mercenary who undertook the enterprise for personal gain.’

‘I hoped we would profit from trade. Unfortunately, our expenses exceeded our costs. It’s all in our accounts.’

‘Accounts you kept yourself. How much is Drogo paying you?’

‘Drogo doesn’t have any money. He’s only here by my charity.’

‘I don’t believe you. Walter doesn’t believe you.’

Vallon felt as if he were sinking in a mire. ‘Believe what you like. It’s the Emir’s decision that counts, and I’ll bow to his judgement.’

Faruq glanced at Suleyman before striking another judicial pose. ‘This is what I think. You travelled here with Drogo for the purpose of releasing Walter only so that you could kill him. With Walter dead, Drogo would inherit his father’s title and estate. In return he would reward you with gold.’

Vallon’s answer came out as a snarl. ‘If I wanted to get my hands on Walter, I wouldn’t have arrived with only one quarter of the ransom.’

‘Stay calm,’ Hero whispered.

Vallon nodded and faced Faruq. ‘Examine the bare facts rather than dig for ulterior motives. Interrogate us separately if you wish. We travelled here from the grim north and in the course of that journey we lost many men and all the falcons but one. His Excellency has inspected the haggard and I know that with all the powers and forces at his command, he couldn’t obtain one half so beautiful. Does it satisfy the conditions or not?’

Faruq and Suleyman engaged in close debate, the audience straining to interpret the outcome. At last the Emir waved Faruq aside and began deliberating. He expounded for a long time, swaying on his throne and using both hands to indicate how painstakingly he’d weighed the merits or otherwise of their case. The audience nodded as he made each point. Finally the Emir lowered his mace and Faruq stepped forward to deliver judgement.

‘His Excellency has heard with interest the story of your labours. He commends you on your perseverance, offers his condolences for the deaths of your companions. The falcon you have brought him is a bird of rare beauty and promise. Nevertheless, it doesn’t satisfy the terms of the contract. The problem is this. His Excellency asked you to bring him four falcons. You have delivered only one.’ Faruq pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Now, in all his dealings his Excellency is a man of his word. If he undertakes to grant one of his captains two horses, two horses is what he will give the man. Likewise, if a captain pledges ten archers for a campaign, ten archers is what his Excellency expects to receive. There can be no exceptions. How could it be otherwise? If today his Excellency were to ignore the deficit in your ransom, tomorrow his followers would expect him to demonstrate the same leniency towards themselves. They would say, look at the forbearance with which our lord treated those infidels. How much more generously will he overlook the shortcomings of his own people.’

‘Sir Walter told me that his Excellency would have given him his freedom, ransom or no ransom.’

Suleyman darted a poisonous look at the Norman.

‘Sir Walter presumes too much,’ said Faruq. ‘What is in his Excellency’s power to give is also in his power to withhold.’

‘If he’s decided to keep Sir Walter a prisoner, I have nothing more to say. My task is finished and my interest in these proceedings is exhausted.’

‘The proceedings are finished when the Emir says so.’

Vallon shrugged.

Faruq approached him with an expression of contrived friendliness. ‘His Excellency is intrigued to learn that you were a prisoner of the Moors. Presumably you bought your release with a ransom. Yes?’

‘No. A ransom was promised but never delivered. After eighteen months of degrading captivity, I killed my guard and escaped.’ Vallon looked at the Emir. ‘It was because I’d been a prisoner myself that I felt a degree of empathy with Sir Walter.’

Suleyman ignored Walter’s attempt to attract his attention. He stroked his moustache and studied Vallon and then summoned Faruq and murmured into his ear. When the interpreter addressed Vallon again his tone was as soft as balm.

‘There is a way to resolve the difficulty to everyone’s satisfaction.’

Vallon saw Walter grin and nudge one of his companions. Whatever cat-and-mouse game the Emir was playing, Walter was part of it. Possibly the instigator.

Faruq walked away. ‘You brought with you two things that exceed even the falcon in beauty. I refer to the women.’

Vallon’s cheeks grew hot. ‘The women aren’t chattels.’

Faruq pretended he hadn’t heard. ‘The captain who escorted you here wishes to take for his wife the girl with the sun in her hair and the moon in her eyes.’

‘Syth is betrothed to Wayland and is carrying his child.’

Wayland stiffened. ‘You mentioned Syth’s name.’

Vallon shook his head. ‘Later.’

The Emir gave an airy wave when he heard of Syth’s condition. ‘Very well,’ said Faruq. ‘His Excellency will not separate a man from his wife. He’ll say no more on the subject.’

‘It’s all right,’ Vallon told Wayland.

‘What’s all right? What’s going on?’

Vallon hushed him as Faruq began speaking again.

‘His Excellency understands that there is no such claim on the Varangian woman called Caitlin. The Greek youth who speaks such good Arabic told us that her family is dead and that she’s alone in the world. His Excellency takes pity on her and pledges to place her under his personal protection. Agree to this and the Emir will discharge all other claims. He will release Walter, if that’s what he wants, and you’ll be free to continue on your way. Separate ways.’

It occurred to Vallon that the Emir had wanted Caitlin from the start and that all the posturing was directed to that end.

Drogo tugged his elbow. ‘What’s he saying about Caitlin?’

Vallon took one pace forward. The audience craned.

‘Hero is misinformed about my relationship with the Icelandic woman. The truth is, I sealed a union with Caitlin in Novgorod.’

‘You’re betrothed?’

‘We’re lovers.’

Hero gasped. A moan rose from the audience. Their Emir had been humiliated in public. Suleyman’s face set in a scowl. He said something to Walter that made the Norman wince.

‘Once again we have two stories,’ Faruq said. ‘One from the Greek and one from you. Where lies the truth? Be warned. His Excellency will find it.’

Suleyman shielded his mouth and held muttered discussions with his counsellors. Vallon’s company all spoke at once, Drogo demanding to know why Suleyman had mentioned Caitlin and Hero apologising for creating the awful misunderstanding. Out of the clamour it was Wayland who made himself heard.

‘Ask him why he needs two casts of gyrfalcons.’

‘Because that’s what he demanded. Forget it. This is no longer about the falcons.’

‘No, I mean what practical purpose do four falcons serve? Ask him. Go on.’

Vallon put the question wearily and passed on Faruq’s blunt reply. ‘He says that one falcon can’t catch a crane.’

‘Not one of his sakers, perhaps. The gyrfalcon can kill almost anything that flies.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘You’ve only seen the falcon in a cage. I watched her hunting and she’s deadly. On the night we first met, Hero said that the Emir was planning to hold a contest with a neighbour to see who had the best falcon. I’ll back my gyrfalcon against any cast of sakers. Tell him.’

‘She’s not your falcon. If you’re convinced of her qualities, describe them to the Emir and let him test them for himself.’

‘She won’t fly at her best for anyone but me.’

Hero broke in. ‘Do as Wayland says. The Emir’s about to announce a decision, and you can be sure it won’t go in our favour. If Suleyman agrees to the contest, it will give us time to straighten out the lies and confusion.’

Vallon saw the wisdom of Hero’s suggestion. ‘You tell him. Dress it up in such flowery language that the Emir won’t be able to refuse. Get the audience on our side.’

Hero began to speak just as Faruq turned away from Suleyman. He spoke again of the perils of their journey into the realms of ice and fire. He described Wayland’s ordeal with the white bear, the battle with the Vikings, the four-month journey to the south. He extolled the gyrfalcon’s virtues, pointing out that she alone had survived the ordeal and that the Emir must surely take this as a sign of God’s will.

Suleyman chewed one of his moustaches while the audience waited for his decision. He summoned his hawkmaster and the two men spoke at length, breaking off to point or stare at Wayland. Faruq hovered in an attentive stoop until the Emir raised his mace, and then he straightened up.

‘This is not a trifling matter. Is the English falconer certain that the falcon can kill a crane unaided?’

Vallon glanced at Wayland. ‘I’ve never heard him make an empty boast.’

‘On no account must the falcon disgrace his Excellency. She must win the contest.’

‘Even if she doesn’t,’ said Wayland, ‘she won’t shame him.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Vallon said. ‘She has to win.’

‘She will.’

‘You don’t even know the rules of the contest.’

‘There’s time to learn them.’

Vallon put aside his misgivings. He looked at the Emir and gave a stiff nod. ‘The falcon won’t disappoint.’

Faruq glanced at Suleyman. ‘His Excellency agrees.’

The audience buzzed. Faruq raised his voice to outline various practical matters.

Vallon turned to Wayland. ‘How long do you need to prepare the falcon?’

‘Three weeks.’

‘You have twelve days. If that isn’t enough, say so.’

‘She’s a haggard. She’s been killing almost daily for more than a year. All I need to do is get her fit.’

Vallon faced the interpreter. ‘The falcon will be ready.’

‘His Excellency will issue a challenge tomorrow. If the white falcon outflies his neighbour’s sakers, he will release the Norman and send you away with gifts.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’

‘His Excellency is even-handed in his dealings. You have declared before his court that the falcon won’t fail.’ Faruq let the claim linger. ‘If it does, his Excellency will be put to scorn by his rival. You can’t accept the rewards of success while refusing to pay the cost of failure.’

Too late, Vallon saw the pit he’d dug.

Faruq continued. ‘If the falcon doesn’t triumph, his Excellency will give the English youth to Walter as his slave.’ Faruq stayed Vallon with an upraised palm. ‘And you as champion of the falconer must also pay a forfeit.’ Faruq allowed a space so that there could be no misunderstanding. ‘In your case, the Varangian woman.’

Wayland grinned. ‘What was that last bit?’

Vallon knew there was no way back. Before an audience of a hundred, he’d promised Suleyman a victory. It took all his self control to give a calm response. Behind Wayland he could see Hero’s appalled gaze and Walter’s smirk. He smiled and patted Wayland’s arm. ‘Nothing important. From now on, concentrate all your attention on preparing the falcon.’