the Walking Drum (1984) (3 page)

That was the moment I had chosen to shear off and escape, but the chance was lost in the instant of birth, for Walther was beside me, a sword point in my ribs as if he had guessed my intent. I dared make no move.

The surprise attack had been a complete success. The merchantman's crew awakened only to die; moreover, the ship was well-found, with a rich cargo of silk and cinnamon. There was gold and silver coin ... and a girl.

She struggled to the ship's side, the prisoner of Cervon, a huge Gaul, the largest man in our crew. Beside her an older man pleaded and argued with the Gaul. Her eyes, wide with terror, looked across the rails of the two ships into mine. She could have been no more than sixteen and was very beautiful. Her eyes met mine, pleading and frightened.

"Stop him," I protested to Walther.

"He captured her. She is his." There was envy in his tone, for he hated to see such a girl in the arms of another. It was an envy to be used.

"You would waste such a girl? That is no shepherd's daughter! Would you throw away a fortune for a moment in the scuppers? Can't you see? This girl is worth more than all the loot combined! Think what her family would pay!"

Greed won where any other argument would have failed. The Gaul was pressing her against the bulwark and fending off the older man with one hand. Even at this distance it could be seen that her flesh was soft and her dress woven with threads of gold.

A fortune-hungry and jealous man, Walther seized the chance. "Stop!" he shouted to the Gaul. "Bring her here, and the man as well!"

The older man spotted Walther and leaned over the rail of their ship. "We can pay, and pay handsomely if the girl is unharmed."

Cervon hesitated, angry, but found no sympathy, for envy as well as the idea of profit had turned the crew against him. Angrily, he swung her over the side and dropped her to our deck, where we were lashed alongside. He left the man to find his own way, and went away, disgruntled and furious.

Already our crew was looting the vessel of both cargo and supplies. Bales and barrels came over the side, as the men stripped the vessel hurriedly, for fear a warship might intervene before the looting was complete.

The girl threw a glance my way and spoke to the older man beside her who also looked my way. Knowing I had spoken for her gave her more hope than the moment deserved. Yet I smiled at her, and she smiled in return.

When all attention was diverted by the stripping of the prize, I spoke softly to her, in Arabic. "Friend," I said.

The fog thinned, and our crew hurriedly abandoned the captured ship.

Ignoring the complaints of Cervon, Walther turned to the man. "Who are you? What can you pay?"

The man was not so old as at first he had seemed. He was well setup, a man of military bearing, gray of hair but clear of eye, and obviously accustomed to command. He had formed a quick estimate of Walther, and expected no mercy from the others.

"She is the daughter of ibn-Sharaz, of Palermo, a wealthy man, and one with power."

"She has not the Moorish look," Walther grumbled. "I think you lie."

"Her mother was Circassian, blonde as your northern girls. Treat her gently. If she is harmed, fifty ships will hunt you down."

"Fifty ships? For a slip of a girl?"

The man was brusque. "Fifty ships for the daughter of ibn-Sharaz, friend and adviser to William of Sicily!"

Walther paled. He had none of the sea rover's disdain for landlubber princes, although even a corsair might hesitate at the name of William of Sicily, descendant of Norman conquerors, his ships upon every sea, his spies in every port.

"Such a man can pay," Walther admitted, but speaking as much to advise his crew as to acknowledge the fact.

"Take us safely to any port in Spain, and you will be paid well and what you have done forgotten."

Of the first I was convinced, of the second I was not. This man and his kind were not likely to forgive such an injury, and I remembered the story my father had told me of the young Julius Caesar, taken by pirates. He promised to return after his ransom was paid, and hang them every one, and they laughed. Yet he did return, and he did hang them, and this man was of such a kind.

Walther strode off to discuss the matter with the crew, and the man spoke to me. "You have helped us. I value such aid."

"My word carries small weight here. Until recently I was chained to an oar. They neither like nor trust me."

"They listened to you."

"They are ruled by greed and envy. Each wanted her for himself, and hence was willing to listen when I suggested ransom."

"Remain our friend, and I shall replace the weight of your chains with an equal weight of gold."

When one is young, one does not think of gold but only of the light in a maiden's eyes. Yet a time would come when I would discover that one might have both-if one had wit.

Never had I seen such a girl. Our northern girls were stronger but their skin less fine from exposure to sun and wind, and they lacked garments such as she wore on this day. My father's house had been filled with treasures looted from eastern ships, and often he had spoken of the life in Moorish Spain where I longed to go.

Our northern castles were cold, drafty halls with narrow windows and few comforts, their floors scattered with straw and the accumulated refuse of months. My father had brought from Moorish Spain a love of beauty and cleanliness. So, accustomed to my own home, I could not abide the ill-smelling castles of nobles who had little but weapons and pride.

The old Crusaders learned a little, but merchants and minstrels had picked up the Moorish habit of bathing, changing their clothing instead of allowing it to wear out and drop off. Occasionally, travelers brought books to their homes. But books of any kind were rare in the land of the Franks, and the few available were eagerly read-but read only in private for fear the church might disapprove.

My father, not an educated man in the sense I was later to understand, was intelligent and observant, and like most of Brittany at the time was pagan rather than Christian. Christianity, for which my father had the greatest respect, had discarded much that was good along with the bad. The baths had been symbols of paganism, so baths and bathing were condemned, and few people bathed in Europe for nearly a thousand years. Books had been thrown out on the theory that if they repeated what the Bible said, they were unnecessary, and if they said what was not in the Bible, they were untrue.

Travel, ever an enlightening influence, had revealed to my father a more agreeable way of life. He had learned to appreciate the seasoned and carefully prepared food of the Mediterranean countries as well as their silken garments. The first rugs seen in Armorica were brought home by rovers of the seas, and many of the first books, also. Two of those brought to our house were Latin; another was in Arabic.

The first of the Latin books was Vegetius on the tactics of the Roman legion, and during that long voyage to Iceland and beyond, I read and reread it. The second book in Latin was theIllustrious Lives, by Plutarch.

The book in Arabic was on astronomy, and from this I learned much of navigation unknown in northern Europe. At various places in the volume were quotations from the Koran, and these I memorized.

Zorca, our Greek servant, had traveled up the Nile, had seen the pyramids, great temples, and all manner of strange animals. How much I could believe I did not know, but I loved his tales of Trebizond, the Black Sea, and the Greek isles.

The girl cast me a glance and said, "I am Aziza."

"And I am Kerbouchard, Mathurin Kerbouchard."

"It has a bold sound."

"My father was Jean Kerbouchard. It was also the name of an ancestor who fought Caesar."

The man glanced at me, his curiosity aroused. "What know you of Caesar?"

"He was an enemy of my people, but I have read of him in a book by Plutarch." Easing the tiller, I added, "Caesar attempted to destroy my people because they refused tribute."

Walther strode aft. "We go to a cove near Malaga." He drew from his tunic a chart from the vessel we had looted, and showed it to me, indicating a place on the shore. "Can you take us to that place?"

"I can."

"Do so, and when the ransom is paid you shall have a share."

Aziza's eyes were on me. Was she wondering if I would betray her for that reward?

Had she known my mind she would have been unworried, for there was no wealth anywhere that meant half so much as a glance from her eyes or the shape of her body beneath her thin clothing. But I was young then.

Chapter
3

When darkness came I was awakened and returned to my place by the steering oar. Near the bulwark huddled the two captives.

His name, I discovered, was Redwan, and he was a warrior as well as a statesman, a man of consequence. He slept now, snoring slightly. There was no sound from Aziza, and I suspected she was awake.

"Look to your steering," Walther advised. "We must not be discovered. Find the cove, and when shore is sighted, awaken me.

"Attempt no foolishness, for the Gaul is awake and so are the men of Finnveden. One sight of betrayal, and you will be killed."

Nor did I doubt his words, for the three men of Finnveden were cold and dangerous men, not so cowardly as the others, but morose and silent, vicious in any kind of a fight and without a thought for any but themselves. I suspected I should have to face them one day.

The sea was dark, the waters glassy. No oars were in use, only the sail to give us steerage way, for we wanted no sound to bring attention upon us.

There were no stars. Water rustled along the hull, phosphorescent ripples rolling back from the bow. The sky was heavily overcast with a hint of rain. Timbers creaked as the galley moved in a slow roll through the dark water. Here and there a slave muttered in his sleep, or murmured some half-forgotten name. Metal chinked upon metal as weapons touched in the night, for the men slept fully armed.

She came to me so quietly I scarcely realized her presence but for the perfume. Her hand touched my arm. "You must help us, Kerbouchard!Please!"

Her fear gave me strength, for when is one not the stronger through being needed?

Yet she stirred me in other ways, for along our Breton shores there were no such girls as this. Often they were lovely but never so soft and delicate as this.

"I shall do what I can."

"Already you have helped. It was you who stopped that man."

"Your companion is a Moor?"

"A Norman. He was a great captain among them when he fought against us, but now he has become an ally."

Her nearness was disturbing, for I knew little of women, yet most of my fear was that she should be seen near me and our nearness misunderstood. Such a suspicion might be enough to throw her to the crew, so when she returned to her place near the bulwark, I was relieved.

My experience with women had been slight, with little time for conversation. There had been a few meetings with girls on the moors who had a way of becoming lost where I was accustomed to wander alone.

Of course, there had been a time when a fine caravan camped atop the cliffs, and a young woman came alone to the beach to search for shells. She found more than she bargained for, which she seemed to appreciate and endure with fortitude, even to the extent of taking an active interest in the proceedings.

She was quite a beautiful young woman, the widow, I discovered, of a merchant in Angers. This I learned later at the inn where they stopped for the night. She had come alone to the beach where I lay sunning myself on the warm sand, and her search for shells brought her closer and closer until I began to suspect that her interest in marine life might be more extensive than at first appeared.

When she discovered that I was awake, a conversation developed, so naturally I told her of the cave behind the dunes. Intrigued by the mystery of it, she wished to see the cave, but what she found there was obviously no mystery.

The boom of a not too distant surf interrupted my thoughts, and my call awakened Walther who came aft, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The dark line of the shore appeared, and one of the men of Finnveden took his place in the bow to conn us in.

The cove was a mere cutback in the shoreline, partly screened by a bluff, and no place to lie with southerly or easterly winds. We could dimly make out the white sands, which lay deserted and still.

A change had come over the galley. Once committed to demand ransom for the prisoners, the ship's company was alert. Armed men came aft, and others scattered themselves along the bulwark. From now until we were safely at sea, this guard would stand twenty-four hours a day.

The lure of a strange, shadowed shore was upon me. I listened to the whisper of the sea upon the sand, the creaking of the ship itself, the lap of water against the hull, and thechuck, chuck sound from the trailing oars.

What destiny awaited me here? What girls might lure and laugh and leave me? What fortune might come? What mystery? In the strange and perfumed night I felt a stirring within me, a longing to be ashore, to go walking alone up through the trees that lay beyond the beach.

Walther came aft again with Eric, the eldest of the Finnvedens, Cervon the Gaul, and others.