Krispos the Emperor

'Have I, now?' Phostis tried to keep anything but the words themselves from his voice.

'Aye, you have.' It was accusation. 'Before you got kidnapped, you didn't have the slightest notion what you were for, what you wanted. You knew what you were against—'

'Anything that had to do with Father,' Phostis interrupted.

'Just so,' Evripos agreed with a thin smile. 'But being against is easy. Finding, knowing, what you truly do want is harder.'

'You know what you want,' Olyvria put in.

'Of course I do,' Evripos said. The red boots hung unspoken in the air. 'But it looks like I can't have that. And now that Phostis knows what he wants, too, and what it means to him, it makes him ever so much more dangerous to me than he was before.'

'So it does,' Phostis said. 'You can do one of two things about it, as far as I can see: you can try to take me out, which you say you don't want to do, or you can work with me. We spoke of that before I got kidnapped; maybe you remember. You scoffed at me then. Do you sing a different tune now? The second man in all the Empire can find or make a great part for himself.'

'But it's not the first part,' Evripos said.

'I know that's what you want,' Phostis answered, saying it for his brother. 'If you look one way, you see one person ahead of you. But if you look in the other direction, you see everyone else behind. Isn't that enough?'

Enough to make Evripos thoughtful, at any rate. When he answered, 'It's not what I want,' the words lacked the hostility with which he'd spoken before.

Krispos rode ahead of the younger members of the imperial family. As he clattered down the cobblestones in front of the government office building where Digenis had been confined, a man strolling along the sidewalk sang out, 'Phos bless you, your Majesty!' Krispos sent him a wave and kept on riding.

'That's what I want.' Now Evripos' voice ached with envy. 'Who's going to cheer a general or a minister? It's the Avtokrator who gets the glory, by the good god.'

'He gets the blame, too,' Phostis pointed out. 'If I could, I'd give you all the glory, Evripos; for all I care, it can go straight to the ice. But there's more to running the Empire than having people cheer you in the streets. I didn't take it seriously before I got snatched, but my eyes have been opened since then.'

He wondered if that would mean anything to his brother. It seemed to, for Evripos said, 'So have mine. Don't forget, I was running Videssos the city while Father went on campaign. Even without the riots, I'll not deny that was a great bloody lot of work. All jots and tittles and parchments that didn't mean anything till you'd read them five times, and sometimes not then.'

Phostis nodded. He often wondered if he wanted to walk in Krispos' footsteps and pore over documents into the middle of the night. That, surely, was why the Empire of Videssos had developed so large and thorough a bureaucracy over the centuries: to keep the Avtokrator from having to shoulder such burdens.

As if Krispos had spoken aloud, Phostis heard his opinion of that: Aye, and if you let the pen- pushers and seal-stampers run affairs without checking up on them, how do you know when they're bungling things or cheating you? The good god knows we need them, and he also knows they need someone looking over them. Anthimos almost brought the Empire to ruin because he wouldn't attend to his ruling.

'I wouldn't be Anthimos,' Phostis protested, just as if Krispos had spoken out loud. Olyvria, Evripos, and Katakolon all gave him curious looks. He felt his cheeks heat.

Evripos said, 'Well, I wouldn't, either. If I tried to live that life after Father died, I expect he'd climb out of the tomb and wring my neck with bony fingers.' He dropped his voice and sent a nervous glance up ahead toward Krispos; Phostis guessed he was only half joking.

'Me, I'm just as glad I'm not likely to wear the red boots,' Katakolon said. 'I like a good carouse now and then; it keeps you from going stale.'

'A good carouse now and then is one thing,' Phostis said. 'From all the tales, though, Anthimos never stopped, or even slowed down.'

'A short life but a merry one,' Katakolon said, grinning.

'You let Father hear that from you and your life may be short, but it won't be merry,' Phostis answered. 'He's not what you'd call fond of Anthimos' memory.'

Katakolon looked forward again; he did not want to rouse Krispos' wrath. Phostis suddenly grasped another reason why Krispos so despised the predecessor whose throne and wife he'd taken: no doubt he'd wondered all the years since Anthimos had left behind a cuckoo's egg for him to raise as his own.

And yet, of the three young men, Phostis was probably most like Krispos in character, if perhaps more inclined to reflection and less to action. Evripos was devious in a different way, and his resentment that he hadn't been born first left him sour. And Katakolon—Katakolon had a blithe disregard for consequences that set him apart from both his brothers.

Without warning, Evripos said, 'You'll give me room to make something for myself, make something of myself, when the red boots go on your feet?'

'I've said so all along,' Phostis answered. 'Would an oath make you happier?'

'Nothing along those lines would truly make me happy,' Evripos said. 'But one of the things I've seen is that sometimes there's nothing to be done about the way things are ... or nothing that isn't worse, anyhow. Let it be as you say, brother of mine; I'll serve you, and do my best to recall that everyone else serves me as well as you.'

The two of them solemnly clasped hands. Olyvria exclaimed in delight; even Katakolon looked unwontedly sober. Evripos' palm was warm in Phostis'. By her expression, Olyvria thought all the troubles between them were over. Phostis wished he thought the same. As far as he could see, he and Evripos would be watching each other for the rest of their lives, no matter what promises they made each other. That, too, came with being part of the imperial family.

Had Evripos said something like Good to have that settled once and for all, Phostis would have suspected him more, not less. As it was, his younger brother just flicked him a glance to see how seriously he took the gesture of reconciliation. For a moment, their eyes met. They both smiled, again for a moment