Tim Severin - King's Man

He called a servant, gave him his instructions, and while we waited for the man to return from his errand, he showed me various samples of his stock.

'I'm sorry to say,' reported the silk merchant when his servant came back with the information he needed, 'that peach-coloured silk will be impossible to obtain, at least for some time.' He looked knowing, and continued, 'There's a rumour that the Augusta Zoe is due to get married again ... for the third time, can you imagine! The royal workshops are working at full stretch to produce all the garments and hangings needed for the ceremony, and peach-coloured silk is a major item on their list of requirements.'

'But I thought purple was the imperial colour?'

'It is,' said the silk merchant, 'and so too is deep red and those shades of violet which border on purple. All those hues are strictly reserved for the palace. Anyone making or selling such material would be in serious trouble. Peach-coloured silk is made with the same dyestuff that produces the forbidden shades. It is a matter of precisely how much of the dye is mixed with certain tinting herbs, the temperature in the dyer's vat, and other craft secrets. Because of this association, peach is considered to be very exclusive and is customarily sent as a present to foreign rulers to inform them of important palace events such as weddings or coronations.'

I sighed. 'How very disappointing. I don't suppose it is worth my waiting in the city for peach-coloured silk to become available again?'

'Preparing the gifts for the foreign potentates will not be a high priority,' the silk dealer said. 'The royal workshops will want to get all the ceremonial material out of the way first, then use up the last stocks of dye to make the peach silk for shipment.'

'And when might that be? I need to leave well before the celebration of the Nativity.'

'It depends which Nativity you mean,' he replied. 'I presume you are from Venice, or Genoa perhaps. In the west you celebrate the Nativity of our Lord, and so do we. But this city celebrates another very special Nativity, that of Mary, our protectress. And her Nativity falls in September.'

My sudden intake of breath must have puzzled the silk merchant, for I saw that I had given Psellus too little credit for his secret intelligence, and even as I hurried away from the House of Lights, I was busy recalculating how much time I had to prepare Harald's escape from Constantinople. If Psellus's information about the two galleys was correct, then I had three months to get everything ready.

IT COST ME five nomisma to bribe a clerk working in the dromos to keep me supplied with further details of the silk shipment as they emerged. Psellus must have had an excellent contact in the royal silk factory, because on June the eleventh Zoe did get married again — to a patrician by the name of Constantine who was acclaimed as the new Basileus the next day — and it was a little less than three months later that the corrupt clerk in the

dromos informed me that the thirty bolts of peach-coloured silk were ready for despatch as gifts to the Caliph of Egypt. The silk was to be taken there by the imperial envoy carrying the official news of the acclamation of a new Basileus.

'According to my information,' I told Harald, 'two ousiai have been ordered to the Neiron to pick up the silk and other gifts. They are on standby to receive the imperial ambassador. He will come aboard as soon as the chancery has prepared the official letters announcing the coronation of the new Basileus.'

'You suggest that we seize the vessels?'

'Yes, my lord. They would suit your purpose. Ousiai are fast and manoeuvrable, and they can carry you and your men up to the Pontic Sea.'

'And how do you propose that we acquire these vessels? The arsenal is heavily guarded.'

'My lord, you remember your mission to the Holy Land as an escort for the architect Trdat?'

'Of course.'

'I suggest that you and your men present yourselves at the gates of the Neiron as the escort for this new ambassador.'

I could see that Harald immediately liked the idea of this deception. 'And what makes you think that the authorities in the dockyard will be tricked?'

'Leave that to me, my lord. All I ask is that you and your men act like a formal escort, and that you are ready to seize the two dromons when the time is right.'

'That part of the plan will not be a problem.'

Never before had I forged an official document, but I had retained the official orders I received when we had accompanied Trdat, and now I used them as my model. I found myself thanking the Irish monks who had taught me penmanship in my youth as I drew up an official-looking document stating that Harald and his men were to escort the envoy bearing gifts to the Caliph of Egypt. For paper I used a sheet of parchment which I purchased from my contact in the dromos. I paid him another two nomisma extra for the right colour ink - black for the text, red for the invocation to the Holy Trinity which is placed at the beginning of every official order. The ministerial signature I copied from my genuine original, and the seal with its grey silk ribbon I merely cut off and transferred. Finally I carefully folded the fake document, with exactly the same creases, as I had heard that this was a secret method by which the clerks guaranteed the authenticity of a document.

Then, on the day before the feast of the Nativity of Mary, Harald, the remainder of his war band and I arrived at the main gate of the Neiron and requested permission to stow our gear aboard the two dromons. Fortunately the archon, the director of the dockyard, was absent as he was preparing for the feast day, and his deputy was too nervous to question why so many men were needed as an embassy escort. Also, Harald's imperious manner cowed him. The official barely glanced at the forged orders before handing us over to a junior assistant to take us to the dromons. We made our way past the shipwrights, riggers and painters, who glanced at us curiously, surprised to see so many foreigners within the arsenal, and eventually came to a short wooden pier where the two ousiai were moored. As I had anticipated, their crews had been given leave to prepare for the festival, and they had left their vessels in care of the dockyard. There was no one aboard.

'Sweeps and sails left on deck, thank the Gods,' muttered Halldor, looking around the vessels, and I realised that in my enthusiasm as a forger I had forgotten that the dromons might not be fully ready for sea.

'We'll stow our gear on board and stay the night,' I told the archon's assistant.

He looked surprised. 'Are you not attending the festivities tomorrow?' he asked.

'No,' I said. 'These men are unbelievers. Also the sekreton of the dromos informs me that the ambassador himself may arrive

tomorrow evening, and we could be getting under way without delay.'

'But the regular crews are on shore leave,' the man objected.

'And if they are found to have neglected their duty, they will be reprimanded,' I added.

The dockyard assistant took the hint. 'Very well. I will make arrangements for additional fresh water and stores to be brought aboard tomorrow. But as it is a feast day, I cannot guarantee that it will be possible to provide all that is needed. I was not made aware that the ambassador would have such a numerous escort.'

'Do your best,' I assured him. 'We've brought enough rations with us to last the next few days.'

By mid-afternoon the activity of the dockyard was already subsiding. The sounds of hammering and sawing and the shouts of workers faded as the shipwrights left their tasks and went home early to prepare for the festival. Soon the only people left in the Neiron were the members of the fire watch, whose duty was to keep an eye on the highly combustible stores, and a night guard of about a dozen men who patrolled the slipways and quays.