Lord of Slaughter

15

Azemar, Mauger and Snake in the Eye made their way down the steps of Hagia Sophia.

‘Here’s someone we can ask,’ said Snake in the Eye. He spoke in Norse, his accent thick, and Azemar felt at a disadvantage. He only knew the language through his parents. He wasn’t as fluent as the boy or as Mauger, who spoke it as natives.

Snake in the Eye pointed out a monk in dark robes and full beard who hurried up the stairs. From somewhere a lament sounded: ‘Having foolishly abandoned thy paternal glory, I squandered on vices the wealth which thou gavest me. Wherefore, I cry unto thee with the voice of the prodigal: I have sinned before thee, O compassionate father. Receive me as one repentant, and make me as one of thy hired servants.’ The people were asking forgiveness for their sins, convinced the terrible sky was a punishment from God.

‘Fellow,’ Snake in the Eye called to the monk in Greek.

The monk stopped and his eyes darted from man to man. He clearly wanted to be away.

‘Do not give my friend the answer he seeks,’ said Azemar in Greek. ‘No good will come of it for any of us.’

Snake in the Eye ignored him. ‘Where might we find the scholars of this town?’

‘You are not the sort for scholarship,’ said the monk. ‘Now let me on my way.’

‘It would be a convenience to you to die so near to the house of your god,’ said Snake in the Eye, touching the handle of his sword. ‘I ask a simple question and seek no money or food or anything else it can pain you to part with. Be civil, and we will remain so.’

The monk glanced about him. No one around, not even a beggar.

‘Try the Magnaura,’ he said, ‘for the good it will do you.’

He moved around them and all but ran up the steps to the great church.

‘Do not reveal this to my companion,’ said Azemar, still in Greek. ‘I will pay you to keep this secret.’

‘I don’t seek pay,’ said Snake in the Eye, in Norse, ‘but adventure and sword work.’

Azemar looked to the ground. Why did he have the luck to meet an earnest idiot like this?

‘Where do we have to go?’ said Mauger.

‘The Magnaura. I have no idea where that is, but it won’t take us a moment to find out. Look, here comes a man of the palace now.’

Down the street came a man in a scribe’s white tunic.

Mauger glanced at Azemar and smiled.

‘It seems our work here might be shorter than we thought, scholar,’ he said.

The scribe directed them where they needed to go, and two hundred paces later they came to the door to the compound of the Magnaura.

‘Do we go in?’ said Azemar. He really couldn’t think what to do if Mauger saw Loys. Throw himself in front of the knight’s sword, he supposed. But he knew what Mauger was capable of. Azemar would only be putting off the inevitable.

‘We watch,’ said Mauger.

‘Why?’

‘Because I need to know this place, its weaknesses and its strengths, before deciding on my course of action. I intend to survive my encounter with your friend, and it seems unlikely I will do that if I act too rashly. The soldiers of this land are no fools and there are enough of them. When I strike it must be quickly and in secret.’

‘I would take a thousand men,’ said Snake in the Eye.

Mauger laughed. ‘Perhaps, but we who have seen more wars cannot be so confident.’

Azemar waited with the two men, not knowing what to do. The sun laboured under the heavy clouds, the light was weak and he was cold. They had been there a long time when he noticed men gathering around them. The weather had kept people indoors but now there was a crowd outside the Magnaura — twenty men at least behind them, in front of them the same number. This was very odd because the streets were otherwise almost deserted.

‘Hello, lads. A word, please.’

A short bald man in pale blue robes spoke. He took Azemar by the arm. Another man tried to grab Mauger but the warrior threw him down, and was running almost as he struck the ground.

Azemar tried to shake free, but a third man had his other arm. Men went streaming after Mauger, but the knight had a good start on them and ducked into an alleyway.

‘What is this?’ said Azemar.

‘We just need to talk.’

‘And you are?’

‘Forty strong,’ said the man, ‘and you are one, so I will ask the questions if you don’t mind.’

Snake in the Eye had not been approached. ‘Is he a spy?’ said Azemar.

The man drove a solid punch into Azemar’s guts. The scholar retched, his knees wobbled and he had to sit down on the ground.

‘I am the emperor’s man,’ said Snake in the Eye, ‘and no spy. These men are not my equals so would not dare touch me.’

One of the mob, a heavy man who wore a smith’s apron, pointed at Snake in the Eye. ‘You’re his favourite for now. But when that changes, you’ll get a visit from us, don’t you worry.’

Snake in the Eye was silent, just stood looking up towards Hagia Sophia as if nothing was happening.

‘With us,’ said the bald man. The mob swept Azemar through the backstreets leading him on at the trot up the hill away from the cathedral.

‘Where are we going?’

Another meaty blow struck him in the belly, staggering him sideways as he ran.

‘Save your energy for answering questions, sorcerer,’ said the man who had hit him, ‘because you are going to need it.’