Stephen Lawhead - Byzantium

"Pietro said he would wait until we were ready," I explained. "But I could see nothing to hold us here. I know it is not much time," I allowed; "if I had thought you wanted to stay on-"

"No," Brynach said quickly, "no-you are right. There is nothing more for us here." He paused, looking thoughtful. "And is it still your plan to return with us? I thought-"

"Where else would I go?" I said, then added quickly, "So, then, you have one last day in Byzantium. There must be something you wish to do in the city before we leave."

"I was always hoping to pray in the Church of the Holy Wisdom," Brynach replied; Ddewi and Dugal nodded their agreement. "I would like that. The brothers at Christ Pantocrator were going to take us, but then…well, it makes no matter."

"Go," I urged. "All three of you-go now. There are guides aplenty eager to show you the wonders of Constantinople for the price of a loaf." I gave him one of Harald's gold solidii. They protested such extravagance, but I had nothing smaller to give them and suggested it was little enough payment for their pains and bade them to enjoy the day.

They held quick council between them and decided to do it without delay. "Will you not come with us, Aidan?" inquired Dugal, regarding me with concern.

"There is nothing more I care to see or do in this city," I answered. "Besides, I would only steal your joy. Go and say your prayers, Dugal, and never fear-I will be here when you return."

No sooner had they left, than Faysal appeared to say that Lord Sadiq desired to speak with me. I had been expecting a summons of some kind, and now that it had come, I found I was unready to face him. Guilt about how Kazimain and I had parted was, I suppose, making me dread a confrontation.

As I expected, he was not happy. After a simple, if somewhat austere greeting, he bade me sit down, and said, "Kazimain has told me that you two are not to be married. While I doubt neither her word nor her honour, I would hear it from your lips also."

"It is true," I replied. "I have broken my vow, and we have parted."

Sharp disapproval pursed the amir's lips into a frown. "That is not how Kazimain put it," he informed me, "but as this is a matter between a man and a woman, I will not interfere if your mind is made up. As to that, I offered to persuade you to change your mind, but Kazimain does not wish it." He paused, trying to read my thought from the expression on my face.

When he spoke again, he said, "There is a place for you in my court. I have need of a man of your considerable abilities. Stay with me, Aidan, and I will see that you rise to your rightful estate." He paused. "You need not marry my kinswoman to gain my favour, you have earned my highest esteem many times over with your exemplary deeds and character."

"I fear you flatter me too highly, Lord Sadiq," I said. "And your offer is tempting, but I cannot accept it."

The amir nodded silently, accepting my decision gracefully. "What will you do?"

"Return to Eire," I answered. I would complete the pilgrimage, see it through. That, at least, I could do.

"Forgive me for saying so, but though you return to your home a thousand times, you will not be happy there anymore," the amir warned. "You have seen too much of the world and its ways to hide away in your monastery."

"You may be right," I conceded. "Still, it is my home."

Sadiq gazed at me, and seemed to soften. "I wish you well, my friend." He rose, signalling an end to our talk. "Still, if you should ever come again to Samarra, you will find me ready to receive you and resume our friendship."

"I am grateful, Lord Sadiq. But my heart is hungry, and will not be satisfied until I have seen Eire again."

"Go in peace, Aidan," said the amir, raising his hands in blessing. "May Allah, Wise and Merciful, make straight your path and protect you from Satan's wiles, and may the Lord of Hosts grant you peace in his celestial palaces forever." Placing his fingertips to his forehead, he then touched his heart, saying, "Sala'am, Aidan, and farewell."

We ate together for the last time that night; the amir insisted on providing a feast to send us on our way. The rafiq and the monks attended and the talk was light and pleasant-Faysal and I were kept busy translating for everyone. All through the meal, I looked for Kazimain to join us, but the evening ended and she did not appear.

Nor did I see her the next morning when Pietro's man collected our few bundled belongings and we left the villa for the waiting ship. Though we had made our farewells the night before, Faysal insisted on accompanying us to the wharf. He said it was to make certain that we did not get lost and fall into misfortune. Just before I climbed aboard, I offered Faysal the Qadi as a parting gift, but he refused, saying that if I ever returned to Byzantium again, I would certainly need a good knife. Crossing his hands over his chest, he bowed, and bespoke the peace of Allah for our voyage. He then stood on the quayside watching us until we passed from sight.

That was the last I saw of any of them.

I will say nothing of our homeward voyage-save that it was at every point the opposite of our outgoing journey. The ship was both stout and swift, the weather warm and mild, the company of Pietro and his crew, cordial-even the food, which the Venetians prepared with skill and exuberance, was more than agreeable. Thus, we enjoyed comforts I had not imagined to exist among seafaring folk.

Though we urged the sturdy little ship's master to put first into their home port for the sake of his cargo, he would not have it any other way but that he delivered us safely to our destination as agreed. The more we tried to persuade him, the more adamant he grew. "You," he declared, "are my foremost concern. I will not rest until you are once again among your brother priests."

Again, I wondered how much Harald had paid to secure this kind of treatment-and what accompanying threats he might have added as further inducement-but, as there was nothing to be done, we simply sat back and allowed the days to drift pleasantly by…until one morning, Pietro came to us and said, "If you would like to see your homeland once again, follow me."

We made our way to the prow where he pointed to a low-rising blue eminence floating on the horizon. "There is lerne," he said. "You must tell me now where you wish to make landfall."

We held council, and decided that Brynach had the best reckoning of the Irish coast, so he should guide the ship to our destination. This he did, and by nightfall we had reached the bay at the mouth of the Boann River.

Rather than tempt the rocky shoreline at dusk, Pietro dropped anchor in the bay and waited until morning. We passed an excruciating night-within shouting distance of our cherished homeland, but unable to cross over until morning.

When dawnlight finally came, we proceeded slowly upriver to Inbhir Patraic and made landfall at the wooden wharf. "See now!" cried Dugal as his feet touched the planking. "We have crossed three seas without so much as getting our feet wet!"

Indeed, in light of our previous voyage, it was a remarkable achievement. We all agreed that our Venetian shipmates were fine sailors, and praised them extravagantly, much to their delight. Pietro liked the look of the settlement, and decided to stay a day or two to trade. He asked if we would translate for him; "I will pay you handsomely," he said. "You have been good company aboard my ship. I would like to do this for you."

Bryn thanked him and said that, tempting though his offer might be, we had been away a long time and were anxious to return to the abbey which still lay two days' walk inland. "Yet, where trade is the subject," he added, "I think you will find that, with the people hereabouts, silver speaks for itself."