Because I was not a warrior, I was paired with Gunnar, who volunteered to look after me.
Shackled and chained, the next morning at dawn we were given our tools-short-handled picks for chipping and prying, and small hammers for breaking rock-and led into the shaft that we were to work, along with a dozen Greek slaves, mostly fishermen from an island called Ixos, whose boat had been driven off course by a storm. There were four guards-two for every group of fifteen or so slaves-and each shaft or pit had an overseer, which meant that we laboured under five keen-eyed Arabs. All the guards were armed: some with wooden staves, and others with short, curved swords, but all carried horse whips, which they applied with dexterity born of long practice.
The shaft was a tunnel driven directly into the hill which opened into a large cavernous room, from which several dozen smaller tunnels radiated in all directions. The work was arduous, but simple. Each slave pair was to take a finger shaft and, using our picks and hammers, pry the precious metal from the unyielding stone. So that we might see what we were doing, we were given small lamps. These were crudely fashioned of baked earth and held a horse-hair wick and measure of olive oil. The lamps were lit from a torch kept burning in the centre of the cavern, beside a tub of oil used to fill the lamps.
After twenty days, my hands toughened and my blisters no longer bled; after forty days, I no longer smashed my fingers against the rocks with the unwieldy pick. Sometimes, we were able to work near other Danes and we could talk to them. Mostly, however, we were kept apart, save for meals-which were little more than flat bread and a thin, watery cabbage soup-and at night when we were taken back to the huts to sleep.
We worked every day, with no rests-except during the more important Arab holy days, and then it was not for us, but for the guards, that we were allowed a day of peace. These days were infrequent, and always welcomed with profound, if pathetic, gratitude. And so the days passed.
The only solace-if solace it could be called-derived from the fact that the Sea Wolves actually enjoyed finding the silver. They would have gladly dug up all of Byzantium to get such wealth if they had but known where to dig. Thus, they approached the work with a sly enthusiasm that was exceeded only by the ingenuity with which they hid the silver they found.
Of course, they did not hide all of it; Jarl Harald made certain that they provided a fair account of their work to our Sarazen slave masters. It would not do, he said, to make the overseers suspicious. "Better to keep them happy," Harald counselled, "then they will leave us alone."
Thus, the chief overseer received a goodly portion of the silver the Danes mined, and seemed content with his new slaves-content, and oblivious to how much wealth they actually unearthed. I do not exaggerate when I say that the Sea Wolves obtained half again as much as they gave up. And all that they kept for themselves, they hid against the day when they would escape. In concealing their wealth, they showed a genius that rivalled their proficiency in finding it. Truly, the Danes are supreme masters at hiding treasure.
The same guards remained always with us, though the ones that watched us during the day were relieved from duty at night. Thus we came to know very well their habits and dispositions. It was during the changing of the guard, when the night watch arrived and were settling themselves, that Harald took the opportunity to pass along his thoughts for the day.
Usually, this communication took the form of whispers relayed one person to the next down the line, although sometimes-when the guards were very lax-Harald gathered us together to exhort us and praise our efforts personally. It was important to do well, he insisted, for that way we would win our freedom the sooner. Never forget, he insisted, that the king was working on a plan of escape.
We could speak this way to one another, because no one else understood Danespeak. Most of the guards knew some Greek, and a few could speak it fluently. As time went on, I began to learn a word or two of the Arab speech, but no one knew what the Sea Wolves said to one another, which Harald considered a good thing since it meant none of the Greek slaves or Arab guards could betray us. This, he maintained, would make our escape all the easier when the time came.
When we weren't plotting escape, we concocted ingenious tortures for Nikos. That traitor died a thousand times over, each death more hideously painful and protracted than the last. Thoughts of revenge kept many a man going through the endless days of mind-numbing, body-wracking labour.
