1. Prince Vil’hel’m reigned over Novgorod, the northernmost province of his father’s vast but tumultuous empire of Kievan Rus.   He was tall, like the rest of his people, but where they were pale and blond, his dark skin and dark hair harkened from his late mother’s Khazar ancestry.  His eyes changed colour like the ripening grasses of her steppe homeland, and seemed always trained on some far-off quarry, like a bird of prey.   Some called him “the Wise”, due to his fluency in foreign tongues and adoption of the new Cyrillic alphabet.   But most still used his childhood nickname, the Fox.  It was true that during the bone-chilling winters, he wore a mantle of fox fur to keep warm, but the true source of the name was his quiet cunning and subtle aloofness, as though he communed with the spirits of the endless forest.

2.  The power and wealth of Rus came from trade.   Any tribe or nation wishing to use her mighty rivers to gain access to Constantinople and the gilded lands beyond had to pay tribute first.   As his father’s emissary to the Baltic states, Vil’hel’m was called upon to play host to parties of Finns, Norse and Danes before they navigated the Dnieper southward to Kiev.  He found these events tedious (if you’ve seen one drunk Viking, you’ve seen them all), but they were his duty, and he was a dutiful son.   He made his way wearily to the wooden feasting hall, where the smell of roasting elk tinged the air.

3.  He only noticed her during the third verse of some endless Norse saga, when his attention drifted from the elevated platform to the darkened aisles, far from the light of the fires.  He first took her for a knave, but her movements as she offered a ladle of water to the Viking chieftain were economical and elegant, and her fox-pelt hair, where it caught the flame, was decorated with a golden clasp.  A noblewoman, then.  Probably some relative of the chief, being taken to Byzantium as a bartered bride.   He was intrigued, but he had other mysteries to ponder, and she disappeared into the shadows of his mind.

4.  The tribute negotiations took place on the third day, when even the Norsemen had grown tired of drinking and feasting.  Vil’hel’m sat on the raised dais of Novgorod’s only stone hall, a cape of ermine over his broad shoulders and a simple gold crown resting atop his head, inlaid with lapis stones.  The Viking chief sat on a plain chair, near his feet.  He began the long, formal process in Norse, which he spoke haltingly, and requested tribute in the form of a chest of amber, two barrels of mead, and a cart-load of tin.  The Norse delegation murmured their complaint.  The young woman he’d noticed earlier stood beside her father.  “Your price is too high.  We offer you a dozen able-bodied slaves, and two carts of pelts.” She addressed him in formal Slavonic, and he was so taken aback that he forgot momentarily he was addressing a woman.  “Do you take me for a fool?  Here I sit, surrounded by forest and vassal tribes.  What use do I have for your slaves and furs?”  Her blue eyes flashed, and the bargaining commenced.  After twenty minutes, Vil’hel’m descended from his throne to tower over his adversary.  After an hour, even the most loyal retainers grew bored and searched for excuses to leave, but the pair continued to barter.  “Fine,” Vil’hel’m finally exclaimed with a sardonic smirk, “I will accept two chests of amber, under one condition.   Your father must leave you here in Novgorod, under my protection, until he returns.   I cannot in good faith let you go on to Byzantium, where you will teach my enemy to thwart me.”

5.  Her name was Dana, and he was convinced she was the reincarnated spirit of a lynx, for she was fierce beyond her stature.   They argued about everything: the nature of the gods, the afterlife, the weather.   When the days grew short and his princely duties grew scarce, he wasted tallow sitting next to her, teaching her to read his language.   One evening, by candlelight. she addressed him calmly in Slavonic.  “When my father returns, I do not want to return to my homeland.”  He smiled from his couch.  “When your father returns, I do not want you to go.”