yours, Prince. Also the four-score refugees I've gathered together and turned into warriors. All are yours. As for being your ears: if I have heard falsely, then strike me deaf. But my work is finished in the south and I thought you had more need of me here. Soldiers are few in Kiev this day, and her borders are wide...'
The Vlad's eyes remained veiled. The Pechenegi are at bay, you say - and do you give yourself credit for this?'
'In all modesty. This and more.'
'And you've brought my men back with you, without casualty?'
'A handful are fallen.' Thibor shrugged. 'But I found eighty to replace them.'
'Show me.'
They went to the great doors, out onto the wide steps of the church. There in the square, Thibor's men waited in silence, some upon horses but most afoot, all armed to the teeth and looking very fierce. They were the same sorry bunch the Wallach had taken away with him, but no longer sorry. His standard flew from three tall flagstaffs: the golden dragon, and upon its back a black bat with of carnelian.
The Vlad nodded. 'Your mark,' he commented, per-haps sourly. 'A bat.'
'The black bat of the Wallachs, aye,' said Thibor. One of the monks spoke up, 'But atop the dragon?'
Thibor grinned at him wolfishly. 'Would you have the dragon pissing on my bat?' The monks took the prince aside while Thibor stood waiting. He could not hear what was said, but he'd imagined it often enough in times since:
'These men are utterly loyal to him! See how proud they stand beneath his banner?' the senior monk would have whispered in that sly Greek way. 'It could be a nuisance.'
And Vlad: 'Does it trouble you? I have five times their number right here in the city.'
The Greek: 'But these men have been tried in battle; they are warriors all!'
Vlad: 'What are you saying? I should fear him? I've Varyagi blood in me and fear no man!'
Greek: 'Of course you don't. But... he sets himself above his station, this one. Can we not find him a task -him and a handful of his men - and keep the rest of them back here to bolster the city's defences? This way, in his absence, their loyalty will surely swing more rightly to you.'
And Vladimir Svyatoslavich's eyes narrowing more yet. Then - his nod of approval: I have the very thing. Yes, and I believe you're right - best to be rid of him. These Wallachs are a tricky lot. Far too insular...' And out loud to the Voevod: 'Thibor, I'm honouring you tonight at the palace. You and five of your best. Then you can tell me all about your victories. But there'll be ladies there, so see you're washed and leave your armour in your lodgings and tents.'
With a stiff little bow Thibor backed off, went down the steps to his mount, led his men away. At his command, as they left the square, they rattled their weapons and gave a single, sharp, ringing shout: 'Prince Vladimir!' Then they were gone into the autumn morning, gone into Kiev, called the City at the Edge of the Woods...
Despite the disturbance, the unknown intrusion, the Thing in the ground continued to dream. Night would soon fall, and Thibor was sensitive to night as a rooster is to the dawn, but for now he dreamed.
That night at the palace - a huge place with stone chimneys in every room, and wood fires blazing, sprinkled with aromatic resins - Thibor had worn clean but common clothes under a rich red robe taken from some high-ranking Pechenegi. His flesh was washed and perfumed, tanned like leather, and his forelocks freshly greased. He was an imposing sight. His officers, too, were spruce. Though they obviously stood in awe of him, still he spoke to them with some familiarity; but he was courteous to the ladies, attentive to the Vlad.
It was possible (so Thibor had later reckoned) that the prince found himself in two minds: the Wallach would seem to have proved himself a warrior, a Voevod indeed. By rights he should be made a Boyar, given lands of his own. A man will fight even harder if he fights to protect that which is his. But there was that sombre something about Thibor which the Vlad found disquieting. So perhaps his Greek advisors were right.
'Now tell me how you dealt with the Pechenegi, Thibor of Wallachia,' Vladimir finally commanded, when all were feasting. Their dishes were several: Greek sausages