YOU HEAR HER NAME. YOU WONDER. YOU IMAGINE. You’re so impatient. Afraid. You set sail towards her. And then…there she is. Dream and body meet. For a little time there is no time.
That’s how it was as we closed with Zara; as we dropped anchor, and rocked in the sparkling water.
I haven’t seen much of this middle-earth yet, but I have looked up at the gap-toothed grey walls of London and the walls and towers of Ludlow Castle and Count Thibaud’s castle in Champagne and the Doge’s palace in Venice and they’re nothing like as high or long or smooth-skinned as the Roman walls of Zara. You can only see the tops of the spires and bell towers behind them. Rubbing shoulders. Reaching for heaven.
We were all up on deck. Some men were kneeling and talking to God, many were leaning over the gunwales; some were silent, some were conversing in low voices and gesturing.
I overheard two men from Champagne.
“Impossible.”
“All things are possible.”
“Not with walls that thick.”
“With God’s help.”
“They’re as safe in there as hill-warriors.”
Which warriors? Not the ones Nain told us about, guarding the Sleeping King?
I was about to ask them when Sir William strode towards me, singing loudly and badly out of tune:
“Water leaps from rock,
Manna snows on earth,
In the burning bush
The flame still flickers.…
“Sing, boy! Sing!” Sir William bawled.
“We’ll root out the serpent,
Stone him out, smoke him out,
Starve him and dig him out
From behind his walls.”
He grimaced, and I could see all his black teeth. “That’s what we’ll do, won’t we?”
“But I thought…, ”I began.
“You think too much,” Sir William boomed. “You tie yourself in bloody knots.”
“But Lord Stephen said we wouldn’t have to attack,” I said. “They’re Christians. He said we’d talk and reach an agreement.”
“And I said when they saw the size of our fleet they’d mess themselves. God’s teeth, Arthur! They’re in our way.” Sir William sniffed loudly. “I know what I’d do,” he said, and he strode off towards the stern, singing:
“We’ll root out the serpent,
Stone him out, smoke him out,
Starve him and dig him out
From behind his walls.”
At noon, the Doge came alongside in his vermilion galley. He dropped anchor and sent over a messenger to say we should await all the other boats, the transports and horse carriers.
“And then,” said the Doge’s messenger, “as the sun rises tomorrow, we will proceed.”
“Thanks be to God! Deo gratias! Thanks be to God!”
I could hear myself shouting along with everyone else on board, but I don’t know what will happen when we do proceed.
The sun’s setting now, and the water is fretful, slopping and sobbing.
All the towers and spires are on fire. Zara! Her high walls are ashen already.