Krispos the Emperor

Krispos walked over to Phostis and clapped him on the back hard enough to stagger him. 'And all of it thanks to you, son. I owe you a great deal; you've done me as much good by returning and aiding me as I feared you'd do me harm had you stayed with the Thanasioi. And besides that, I'm glad you're back.'

'I'm glad I'm back, too, Father,' Phostis said. If Krispos claimed the relationship despite his doubts, Phostis would not quarrel with it. He went on, 'And what's this I hear about your missing me so much that you decided to sire a bastard'—He carefully did not say another bastard—'to take my place?' The year before, he couldn't have bantered so with Krispos.

The Avtokrator looked startled, then laughed. 'Which of your brothers told you that?'

'Evripos, back at Videssos the city.'

'Aye, it's true. I hope he also said I didn't intend to let it compromise the rights you three enjoy, even if it is a son.'

'He did,' Phostis said, nodding. 'But really, Father, at your age—'

'That's all of you who've said that now,' Krispos broke in. 'To the ice with your teasing. As you'll find out, gray in your beard doesn't stop you from being a man. It may slow you down, but it doesn't stop you.' He looked defiant, as if waiting for Phostis to find that funny.

But Phostis didn't feel like provoking him any further. Having just found his way onto good terms with Krispos, he wouldn't risk throwing that away for the sake of a few minutes' amusement. He probably wouldn't have made such a calculation the year before; two or three years earlier, he was sure he wouldn't have.

What does that signify? he wondered. Is it what they mean by growing up? But he already was grown up. He had been for years—hadn't he? Scratching his head, he walked back to the tent he shared with Olyvria.

'Due east now, your Majesty,' Zaidas reported. 'They're getting close, too; the arrow formed almost as soon as Phostis took his hand from the ensorceled soil.'

'All right, sorcerous sir, and thank you,' Krispos answered. For the last week he'd been maneuvering to place the imperial army square in the path of the withdrawing Thanasioi. 'If the lord with the great and good mind is kind to us, we'll swoop down on them before they even know we're in the neighborhood.'

'May it be so,' Zaidas said.

'Due east, you say?' Krispos went on musingly. 'They'd be somewhere not far from, hmm, Aptos, I'd say. Is that about right?'

'Given where we are now—' The mage frowned in concentration, then nodded. 'Somewhere not far from there, yes.'

'Uh, Father... ?' Phostis began in a tentative voice.

He hadn't sounded tentative since he'd escaped from the

Thanasioi. Krispos gave him a curious look, wondering why he did now. 'What's wrong?' he asked.

'Uh,' Phostis said again. By the hangdog look on his face, he regretted having spoke up. He needed a very visible rally before he continued. 'When I had to go out on that Thanasiot raiding party, Father—remember? I told you of that.'

'I remember,' Krispos said. He also remembered what a turn news of Phostis' movement had given him, and how much he'd feared the youth really had decided to follow the gleaming path.

'When I was on that raid,' Phostis resumed, 'to my shame, I had to join in attacking a monastery. I know I wounded one of the holy monks; if I hadn't, he'd have broken my bones with his cudgel. And my torch was one that helped fire the place.'

'Why are you telling me this?' Krispos asked. 'Oxeites the patriarch is a better one to hear it if you're after the forgiveness of your sin.'

'I wasn't thinking of that so much—more of making amends,' Phostis said. 'By your leave, I'd like to set aside a third of my allowance for the next couple of years and devote it to the monastery.'

'You don't need my leave; the gold I give you each month is yours to do with as you will,' Krispos said. 'But this I will say to you: I'm proud of you for having the idea.' He thought for a moment. 'So you'd give them eighty goldpieces a year, would you? How would it be if I matched that?'

He watched Phostis' face catch fire. 'Thank you. Father! That would be wonderful.'

'I'll leave my name off the money,' Krispos said. 'Let them think it all comes from you.'

'Uh.' Phostis said for a third time. 'I hadn't planned on putting my name on, either.'

'Really?' Krispos said. 'The most holy Oxeites would tell you an anonymous gift finds twice as much favor with Phos as the other kind, for it must be given for its own sake rather than to gain acclaim. I don't know about that, but I admit it sounds reasonable. I know I'm all the prouder of you, though.'

'You know, you tell me that now twice in the space of a couple of minutes, but I'm not sure you ever said it to me before,' Phostis said.

Had he spoken with intent to wound, he would have infuriated Krispos. But he had the air of a man just stating a fact. And it was a fact; Krispos' memory confirmed that too well. He hung his head. 'You shame me.'

'I didn't mean to.'

'I know,' Krispos said. 'That makes it worse.'

Sarkis rode up then, rather to Krispos' relief. After saluting, the cavalry general asked, 'Now that the heretics are drawing near, shall we send out scouts to learn exactly where they are?'

Instead of answering at once, Krispos turned to Phostis. 'Your store of wisdom seems bigger than usual this morning. What would you do?'