After landing, the five hundred mercenaries were sent to the barracks to register their names.
Nils, however, was taken separately to a residence where a senior eunuch personally instructed him in the formal etiquette required for an imperial audience.
"First take off those filthy clothes and armor," the eunuch said while covering his nose. "Wash yourself thoroughly. You smell worse than an animal that has been rolling in a pigsty."
Four lower-ranking servants stepped forward and removed Nils's black cloak, chainmail, and long-unwashed undergarments.
Despite his irritated complaints, Nils was shoved into a steaming bath chamber. The servants scrubbed him repeatedly with brushes until his skin turned red—like a boiled shrimp.
After a long while, he emerged from the suffocating bathhouse wearing a robe.
Outside, two young eunuchs presented him with a brand-new set of luxurious lamellar armor, a crimson cloak, and a single-edged sword called a "Rhomphaia", its hilt decorated with gold.
Once fully dressed, Nils continued his training.
The Imperial Ritual
The core of the lesson was the imperial prostration ceremony.
He had to perform it three times:
kneel fully on the ground
press his forehead to the floor
kiss the emperor's boot
Seeing Nils's displeased expression, the eunuch scolded him.
"Stop making that face. This is an honor ordinary people desire their entire lives."
"Since Emperor Diocletian (reigned 284–305) created this ceremony, it has been followed for centuries. Countless nobles and generals have done it. You are no exception."
With no choice, Nils suppressed his humiliation and practiced the posture repeatedly.
They then moved to the next part of the protocol.
"After the audience, you must leave while walking backward," the eunuch explained.
"Watch my steps. Keep your gaze lowered at all times. Never look directly at the emperor."
Endless Training
The training lasted until evening.
After a quick dinner, the eunuch began teaching Nils several common Greek phrases of praise used during court ceremonies.
Again and again he corrected Nils's pronunciation.
"Too loud! Do you think you're on a battlefield? Start again."
"You mixed up the word order—again!"
"The final syllable is wrong. Forget those crude northern barbarian accents. It should sound like this—slightly higher, but not shrill, and not too low or hoarse."
The training continued until late at night.
Thanks to his intelligence and determination, Nils finally memorized the entire sequence of rituals and phrases.
It felt more exhausting than fighting a battle.
"More than twenty years ago," Nils muttered, "when my companions and I were summoned to the imperial hunting grounds outside the city, there weren't this many rules."
The eunuch explained calmly:
"At that time, you were merely outsiders—your status as low as wild grass. You weren't qualified to perform this ceremony."
"Rest early tonight. Tomorrow morning you will meet the emperor. Whether you become the commander of the guard depends entirely on your performance."
Entering the Palace
Before dawn, servants woke Nils.
After rehearsing the ceremony once more, he rode in a carriage to the imperial palace.
Looking out the window, he saw dense rows of multi-story apartment buildings lining the streets.
The ground floors contained shops.
The upper floors housed residents.
Occasionally they passed grand public structures—bathhouses and hippodromes—far more magnificent than the imitations in Londinium.
Upon entering the outer palace district, Nils was thoroughly searched.
He then followed the eunuch inside.
Every short distance they encountered richly dressed officials with long and complicated Greek titles, such as:
Logothetes tou Stratiotikou — military finance minister
Logariastes tes Aules — palace treasurer
The eunuch skillfully chatted with them, introducing the foreign visitor behind him.
Nils felt embarrassed under their curious gazes, like an animal displayed in a circus.
Eventually, after passing through countless courtyards and corridors, he became dizzy and completely lost his sense of direction.
At last they arrived at a luxuriously decorated hall.
Audience with the Emperor
After a lengthy procedure, Nils entered the hall with his head lowered and began the prostration ritual.
As he approached the throne, a strange sound suddenly echoed.
The mechanical birds in the golden tree beside the throne chirped loudly, while the golden lion statues on either side roared.
Following the instructions he had learned the day before, Nils remained kneeling and continued the ritual.
After a moment, the emperor spoke in Greek.
The interpreter beside him translated solemnly:
"Varangian, His Majesty commands you to raise your head."
Was that part of the ceremony?
Nils glanced at the eunuch kneeling nearby.
The man quickly signaled him to obey.
Taking a deep breath, Nils lifted his head and looked directly at Michael III.
Emperor Michael III
The emperor was wrapped in elaborate jewels and a magnificent purple robe.
He had:
a tall, well-proportioned figure
dark Mediterranean curls
a smooth youthful face
a short beard along his chin
His eyes were lively, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly upward.
Nils thought to himself:
"Frivolous manners, careless behavior… this is the man I am about to serve?"
Talking About Vigge
The interpreter then relayed the emperor's next question:
"I hear that in Western Europe a cruel Viking ruler has risen, nicknamed 'The Serpent of the North.' Do you know him?"
Nils answered calmly.
"Yes. His name is Vigge Tyneburg."
"Twenty-one years ago, Ivar, Bjorn, myself, Vigge, Gunnar, Orm, and Rurik came to Constantinople to trade. During that time we were summoned to the imperial hunting grounds."
"By order of the Empress Dowager and Bardas, Vigge fought someone in a duel before the court."
Suddenly the emperor burst out laughing and looked at one of his attendants.
"I remember now—Basil, it was you who lost that duel."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the attendant replied.
Stories of the West
Reminded of past events, the emperor grew interested.
He asked Nils to recount his experiences over the years.
During the conversation, attendants brought out a map of Western Europe, and the emperor occasionally exclaimed in admiration.
Finally, he ordered a eunuch to pour Nils a cup of wine.
"So," the emperor said through the interpreter, "you claim to be skilled at command and archery—and therefore the best candidate for commander of the guard?"
Nils answered confidently.
"Except for King Vigge of Britannia and Duke Gunnar of Normandy, my command ability is inferior to no Viking."
"Last year I defeated the army of the East Frankish king, annihilated their heavy cavalry, and captured a royal banner."
"They call me 'The White Raven of Gnuts.' If you doubt me, ask the Vikings living in the city."
The Test
The emperor waved dismissively.
"No need. I'm going to watch a chariot race soon. I don't have time to waste."
In his eyes, defeating Frankish barbarians was hardly impressive.
He stroked his beard and ordered attendants to bring over a dozen bows.
"Demonstrate your archery. If you succeed, the position of Akolouthos—commander of the Varangian Guard—will be yours."
This test was trivial for Nils.
He picked up a yew bow and followed the emperor's instructions.
Standing calmly in the courtyard, he shot several wine cups placed at a distance, hitting them one after another.
His movements were relaxed—as effortless as eating or drinking.
Commander of the Varangian Guard
"Excellent," said the emperor.
"Nils, from this day forward you are the Akolouthos, commander of the Varangian Guard."
Apparently eager to attend the chariot race, Michael III quickly announced the appointment, ordered an attendant to draft the decree, and then hurried away.
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