Kathleen Kirkwood & Anita Gordon - Heart series (10 page)

Rurik
’s mouth set in a firm line, his features darkening with memory.

“
The riots were intended to conceal their treachery. The emperor’s assassins would already be positioned in close proximity to his person — presumably trusted, high-ranking members of court to enjoy such privilege of access. We knew not their names. Meanwhile, within the Sacred Imperial Palace, the child and empress were to be slain.

“
With this knowledge in hand, I chose five of my most capable officers, and together we laid schemes of our own to snare the conspirators. The emperor proved cooperative, though he insisted he keep his appearance in the Hippodrome and force his opponents’ hands openly. Zoë feared for him but refused to leave the imperial grounds for safety, preferring to die in the purple if necessary. The child, we managed to spirit from the palace in Helena’s care and kept them both under heavy guard elsewhere in the city.”

Lyting
’s eyes snapped to Rurik’s.
Helena.
The noble lady who once held his brother’s heart in Byzantium. The cause of Rurik’s years of wandering. He had not known that she aided him in preserving Leo’s throne and family.

Rurik shifted his stance.
“The designated day came. Our Varangians were carefully posted about the palace grounds and throughout the Hippodrome. Another complement guarded the empress in her private residence, the Pantheon. I, myself, and my officers escorted Leo to the imperial box, the kathisma, which overlooked the arena from an upper balcony in the Hippodrome. Dignitaries and courtiers awaited us in the royal box. They were our chief concern.

“
The mood of the crowd was sullen that day. Early in the games, an upheaval erupted below, then spread through the spectators like a rapid fire feeding on dry kindling. During the tumult, the conspirators made their move.”

“
‘Twas your own blade,” Lyting recalled aloud, “that smote the assassins’ steel and saved the imperial neck. You shielded the emperor with your body, did you not?”

“
Já.
I to the fore, while Askel guarded both our backs. I felled two of them, Vegeir a third. The trio proved to be patricians of high office, one a member of the Senate. We quickly removed the emperor to safety, but it took hours to quell the broil below. The Blues and Greens had taken over the arena. Scores were arrested and interrogated.”

Rurik turned and braced his hands
on the fence, slightly crushing the parchment.

“
Though the conspiracy lay shattered and most involved seized, ‘twas plain that we had not apprehended the architect of the scheme. Personally, ‘twas my belief that he served Alexander, but every trail we followed evaporated before we could discover its end. He simply faded chameleonlike into the sea of officials and retainers that surrounded the throne.

“
Of course, he might not have survived the revolt. Many died in the affray. When I left Constantinople, ‘twas with the frustration that, dead or alive, he had eluded my grasp. And, if he had survived, ‘twas likely he yet abetted the emperor’s degenerate brother.”

Lyting watched the muscle flex along Rurik
’s jaw as he obviously grappled with that frustration once more. Rurik, he knew, would never have left the city had it not been for Helena’s death. Shortly after Rurik routed the conspirators, the emperor lavished honors and riches on him and his officers. Leo had intended to elevate Rurik to one of the privileged ranks so that he might reward him further with Helena’s hand in marriage. But Helena fell suddenly ill and died within days. After her funeral Rurik left Byzantium and took up the life of trading — a hollow man, until he came to Normandy. . . .

“
Since my leave-taking,” Rurik broke into Lyting’s thoughts, “I have maintained loose ties with the Guard and kept an ear open for news from the East. The year I came to Valsemé, Leo died — a natural death. Alexander usurped the throne with little delay and exiled Zoë to a nunnery. My men kept careful watch to see if anyone aided him, but Alexander-was so intoxicated with his own power ‘twould seem he heeded no man’s counsel. Scarcely a year passed when he, too, died. Patriarch Nicholas Mysticus, whom Alexander had recalled, took control as head of the Council of Regency for young Constantine.

“
His rule proved as brief as Alexander’s, for this year past, another palace revolution occurred, led by Zoë and her generals. Zoë expelled the Patriarch and assumed power in the name of her son. She rules today, bedeviled with many of the old contentions along with new ones she inherited from Alexander and the Patriarch, namely a war with the Bulgarians. Adrianople has already fallen, and now they move on Dyrrachium. Many of our Varangians have joined the Byzantines in the field to repulse the Bulgarians including Askel.” Rurik paused and reached for the wide silver armband that encircled his left forearm.

“
Before departing Constantinople, Askel felt an urgency to send me this.”

He drew off the piece and held it forth to Lyting.

Taking the band, Lyting examined it. As he turned it over, his gaze fell to the runes engraved on the underside. These he read with relative ease:

The spider yet spins in the palace of the Caesars.

Leidolf, Thengil, Vegeir dead.

His
gaze went immediately to Rurik, then to the parchment. He drew a brow downward as he puzzled the armband and the letter. Something felt amiss. Darkly amiss.

“
Does the letter reveal what befell Askel in Dyrrachium? In truth, I could unravel little of it. Who is this Stephanites Cerularius? ‘Tis odd that he should write you of Askel, and that he names the others as well.”

Rurik opened out the parchment.
“He claims to be a friend of Askel’s. Evidently he commands a
skutatoi,
an infantry unit, mainly of spearmen. He admired Askel’s skill with spears and they struck a friendship. According to Stephanites, Askel confided the information contained in this letter and directed that, should he die, Stephanites was to see it set down and dispatched it to me through the merchants of Hedeby.”

Lyting rubbed his hand along his jaw, an obscure thought
nettling at the back of his brain. “And what of Askel’s missive?”

“
He apprised Stephanites that Thengil and Vegeir died of a sudden and suspicious sickness, ‘not unlike Helena.’ Leidolf was found murdered in the men’s baths. ‘Twas Askel’s belief that the one we ever sought — the one behind the plot against Leo and his family — had resurfaced and was carefully removing the ‘Dragons’ from ‘around the throne.’ There is no telling who this man now serves. Ten-year-old Constantine is the last in the line of the Macedonians. Askel feared that Zoë and her son are again in grave danger.”

Lyting
’s brows drew together. “Yet, if that is so, why did he leave Constantinople for Dyrrachium? Though there are many Varangians serving in the palace guard, that left only Koll from the original six to try to expose the man.”

“
I have no solid answer.” Rurik shook his head. “It makes little sense unless Askel was on the scent of something.”

“
Or someone.”

“
Exactly. Stephanites says ‘twas not a Bulgarian’s blade that felled Askel. He disappeared from nightwatch. His body was found the next morning in the desert.”

“
Then Askel was tracking someone.”

“
Or mayhap followed out of the city.”

“
Still, there is something I do not understand.” Lyting’s thoughts congealed at last as that which plagued him came to the fore of his mind. “Askel took pains to send you an encrypted message from Constantinople — in runes, secreted on the back of an arm bracelet — as though he knew not whom to trust. Why, then, once in the field, would he detail the entire story — not to a Varangian bound by a code of brotherhood — but to a Byzantine soldier? From what you have told me, you six tasted full well of Byzantine duplicity.”

“
I have been struggling with that as well,” Rurik agreed. “When I remind myself that ‘twas Stephanites, not Askel, who authored the letter, it begins to come clear.”

Rurik held Lyting
’s gaze, the blue of his eyes draining to a flinty gray.

“
‘Tis my belief the letter is a lure, designed to draw me back to Byzantium, with Helena as the prime bait. It intimates that, like the rest, she, too, was murdered. He who wrote those lines knew full well that I could not bide to leave them rest.”

Lyting marked the complexity of emotion that passed through Rurik
’s face. “Then you think Stephanites is Askel’s murderer’?”

“
I know nothing with surety. Much lies in darkness.” Rurik brooded for a moment. “One thing is certain, however. Neither Askel nor Stephanites knew that I had abandoned my life of trading and now rule a barony in Francia with a wife and sons. Both sought to reach me through Hedeby, knowing it to be a major crossroad and market center of the North. That proved wise on their parts for the pieces found me easily enough. They came into the keeping of Issac the Jew, an old acquaintance, but he is too feeble to journey south anymore. He sent word with the ships bound for Normandy, and safeguarded the items here.”

Lyting nodded, recalling the messenger, one of Issac
’s kindred. “Have you determined what course you will take’?” Lyting handed him back the arm bracelet.

“
Nei
. I need think on this longer. Even if Stephanites proves false, I doubt he is more than an underling for the viper behind all this. I’ll examine the band and scroll further and ask about. Most of our Norse merchants traveling the Eastern routes are Sverige-men, as are the Varangians. Mayhap I can glean something of value from them. There appears to be an abundance of Sverige-men here in Hedeby this season.”

“
I think Ketil would agree.” A smile touched Lyting’s lips, then dimmed. “Do you think to journey to the Great City yourself? To Miklagárd?”

Rurik pressed his eyes closed a moment, then drew a long breath as he straightened and regarded Lyting.

“If one thing distinguishes a Varangian, ‘tis his fierce loyalty to the throne of the Caesars. ‘Tis a loyalty he carries in his veins till the day his blood flows no more. And yet, for myself, there are new loyalties of equal import. They bind me by oath to duke and king alike, to Normandy and Francia. And there are my people of Valsemé, and, not the least, my family which I am loathe to leave. Still, Zoë and Constantine need be warned, and I would make contact with Koll. The possibility of Helena murdered tears at me, I confess. But as to whether I will undertake this journey, I have no answer.”

Rurik tucked the parchment inside his tunic and slipped the band onto his arm.
“Sorry to burden you,
broðir
, but I thought you need know should anything befall — ”

He broke off the grim thought, then affected a smile.
“I think I shall envy you your peaceful days at Corbie in some ways.”

Brienne came forth from the
hús
just then and started toward him. The blue returned to his eyes, and he broke into an open smile.

“
And in other ways I shall not.” Rurik’s gaze shone down on Brienne as she stepped into his arms.

Lyting watched as Rurik secured Brienne against his side and dropped a kiss to her lips. Rurik continued to hold her as though he did so against the moment he might have to part from her.

Lyting dropped away his gaze, a tide of conflicting emotions sweeping through him. He glanced to the shimmering tree, then back again and caught the last of what Brienne spoke.

“
The children are sleeping soundly. Ketil returned and has taken Aleth out. It seems he is anxious to spend more coin on her, but he would not say what has taken his eye this time.” She laughed.

“
I, too, shall take my leave.” Lyting chafed to be moving, the familiar restlessness returned tenfold. “Unless there is some task you need me to attend,
broðir
, there are some purchases I would also make.”

“
Ah, Anskar’s bell,” Brienne said mindfully. “ ‘Twill be a fine addition to Valsemé’s church.”

Lyting
’s brows lifted with surprise. He had forgotten the bell since his encounter with Stefnir. In truth, ‘twas combs he would seek and a very long walk.

“
Já
, the bell,” he repeated, wholly distracted. “I’ll leave by the side yard so I don’t risk waking the babes.”

»«

Brienne’s gaze followed Lyting as he departed. Pensive, she leaned into Rurik’s chest and watched Lyting’s bright head and broad shoulders disappear down the lane.

“
When first I saw Lyting,” she reminisced, “he was shrouded in a monk’s garb. It did not seem to befit him then, nor does the thought of him wearing it now.”

“
Are you of the same mind as Ketil,
ástin mín
?” Rurik bent to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

“
Mayhap.” She tingled at the warmth of his mouth and touch of his tongue. “You are the one least surprised by Lyting’s decision to take the cowl.”