Closer, we saw that the bay was heavily crowded-ships from every part of the world rode at anchor before us, thick on the water.
"I think something is wrong here." Harald scanned the clutter of masts cramming the quayside ahead-a veritable forest. "It is not as it was before."
At first I did not comprehend his meaning. The quayside appeared exactly as I remembered it. However, Dugal, standing beside me at the rail, confirmed Harald's observation when he said, "I did not think this place ever knew a moment's peace."
"Jarl Harald was just saying he thinks something is wrong, but I cannot-"
And then I saw it: the harbour was strangely becalmed. None of the sea-going vessels were moving. The lack of activity on the part of the larger craft had escaped my notice because the usual number of small boats still plied the clogged waters, busily ferrying passengers to and fro. These, however, accounted for the only movement in the harbour. All the big ships-and there were hundreds-remained motionless. I saw ships sitting low in the water, fully laden, but none were making for the docks to unload their goods.
What is more, the wharf appeared more than usually crowded; all along its length, people were thronged in dense knots, and swarmed around the gates, but the crowds, like the ships, were motionless, and I saw no one carrying cargo.
Turning back to the rail, I hailed the nearest boatman and, as soon as he had drawn near, inquired why none of the ships were docking or unloading. "The harbour is closed," the boatman answered. "And the gates."
Harald joined me and demanded to know what I had learned. Upon receiving my reply, the king said, "Ask him why this has happened."
Turning once again to the boatman, I asked, and was appalled at the answer I received. The sun in the sky seemed to dim, and I felt the same awful impotent frustration I had felt the day Bishop Cadoc was murdered.
"What does he say?" asked Harald impatiently. Brynach and Faysal needed no translation, and both at once besieged the boatman with questions. Faysal then hastened to rouse the amir with the tidings.
Gripping the rail between my hands, I turned to King Harald who was awaiting my reply. "He says-" I replied, my voice hollow in my ears, "-the emperor is dead."
Unable to credit the words, I said them again, "The emperor is dead. They have closed the harbours and gates to all foreigners." Looking past Harald along the line of those crowding the rail, I said, "I must tell the amir."
"The amir has heard," said a tired voice behind me. "We have come too late."
Sadiq stepped to the rail, Faysal beside him; the amir nodded to Faysal, who called down to the boatman. The two talked for a moment, whereupon Faysal turned and said, "He says the Golden Gate remains open."
Upon further questioning, and payment of a silver coin, the boatman went on to explain that in times of great import-such as an imperial birth, wedding, or death-the various entrances to the city were closed to allow the soldiery to assume other duties. The Golden Gate, however, was never shut, save in time of war; but owing to the crush of people, gaining entry into the city would be very difficult.
This I relayed to Harald, whereupon the jarl called the men to oars, and soon we were sliding slowly along the city's great southern wall towards the district known as Psamathia. Although we found no proper harbour there, the water proved deep enough for secure anchorage-indeed many ships were already berthed there, prow to shore, while waiting to take on goods or provisions, or to make repairs before undertaking voyages.
Thorkel quickly found a place to drop anchor, and commanded the ships to be lashed together. We then formed a landing party.
Harald reckoned he should be the first to go ashore; he had it in mind to proceed directly to the palace and settle accounts with whoever the new emperor might be.
"You are a striking figure, Jarl Harald. What if someone were to recognize you?" I argued. "We cannot risk warning Nikos unnecessarily. If he escapes us now, all we have endured will be for nothing. We cannot allow that to happen."
Jarl Harald did not like it, but in the end was persuaded to wait, at least until we could see how matters stood at court. It was agreed that Brynach and myself should go, along with Dugal to act as bodyguard. We hailed a small boat and Harald gave us each a handful of silver coins; he also gave Dugal a sword. The incident put me in mind of the day the monks of Kells first set off, when Lord Aengus offered him a blade, which Bishop Cadoc refused. This time, however, Dugal took it.
As Faysal arranged with the boatman to take us to shore, the amir called me to him. "You must be very careful, Aidan," he advised, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Our enemies are men without souls." Then, raising his dark eyes to mine, he warned: "Do not become one of them." He stood for a time gazing at me, then left, saying, "Bring me word when you return."
