Krispos the Emperor

for good. If Krispos ever found out, Evripos could claim they were fanatical Thanasioi. Who would contradict him, especially after he became the primary heir? 'It's ... decent of you.'

'Meaning you expect me to throw you into some dungeon or other and then forget which one it was?' Evripos asked.

'Well—yes.' Phostis felt his face heat at being so obvious; had he made that kind of mistake at Etchmiadzin, he never would have got out of the fortress.

'If you think the notion didn't cross my mind, you're daft.' Phostis needed a moment to realize the strangled noise Evripos made was intended as laughter. His younger brother went on, 'Father always taught us to fear the ice, and I guess I listened to him. If you'd gone over to the gleaming path, nothing would have made me happier than hunting you down and taking your place. Always believe that, Phostis. But stealing it after you've got loose of the Thanasioi?' He made a wry face. 'It's tempting, but I can resist it.'

Phostis thought of the chamber under Digenis' tunnel, and of the naked and lovely temptation Olyvria had represented. He'd passed her by—then. Now he lay in her arms whenever he could. Had he yielded to temptation? Would Evripos, with some future chance to seize the throne, spring after it rather than turning his back?

As for the first question, Phostis told himself, the situation had changed by the time he and Olyvria became lovers. She wasn't just so much flesh set out for him to enjoy; she'd become his closest friend—almost his only friend—in Etchmiadzin. Were circumstances different, he'd gladly have paid her formal court.

As for the second question ... the future would have to answer it. Phostis knew he'd be a fool to ignore the possibility of Evripos' trying to usurp him. In the future, though, he'd have the power, not his brother—as Evripos did today. And maybe today showed they had hope, at least, of working together.

Evripos said, 'Come the day, brother, we may not make such a bad team. Even if you end up with the red boots on your feet, give me something to do with soldiers and I'll do well for Videssos with them.'

Not in your service, Phostis noted. He didn't quibble. Among the other things Krispos had taught was that the Empire came first, that anyone who didn't put it ahead of everything else didn't deserve to have his fundament warm the throne in the Grand Courtroom. The lesson made more sense to Phostis than it ever had before.

'You know what?' he said. Evripos raised a questioning eyebrow. Phostis continued, 'It'll be good to see Father. It's been too long.' Phostis paused again. 'I don't suppose I could bring Olyvria along?'

'No,' Evripos said at once, but then added, 'Wait. Maybe you should. She'll know a lot about the Thanasioi —'

'She does,' Phostis said, at the same time as Olyvria was saying, 'I do.'

'Well then,' Evripos said, as if that settled things, 'if you don't bring her, Father will come down on me for making you leave her behind so he can't wring her dry with questions. Take her by all means.'

'I shall obey your commands, young Majesty,' Phostis said with a salute.

Evripos saluted in return. 'I've obeyed yours a time or two, young Majesty,' he answered.

'Brothers,' Olyvria said; she might have been referring to some lower form of life. Phostis and Evripos looked at each other. Grinning, they both nodded.

XI

Krispos slammed his forehead with the heel of his hand, hard enough to hurt. 'By the good god, I'm an idiot,' he exclaimed.

'No doubt, your Majesty,' Sarkis agreed cheerfully; along with Iakovitzes, Zaidas. and Barsymes, he could say something like that without going up on charges of lese majesty. 'In which particular matter are you being an idiot today?'

'With all the hoorah over Garsavra, I clean forgot to write to Evripos and warn him to be alert for Phostis,' Krispos answered. He thumped himself again, in disgust. Characteristically, he wasted no more time on reproaches. Instead, he pulled a scrap of parchment and pen and ink from pouches on his belt, scrawled a few nearly illegible lines—the motion of the horse didn't help—and then called, 'Katakolon!' After a moment, he called again, louder.

'Aye, Father? How can I help you?' His youngest son brought his own horse trotting up alongside Krispos' mount.

Krispos handed him the note. 'Seal this, stick it in a message tube, and get it off to Videssos the city as fast as you can.'

'Just as you say.' The piece of parchment was too small to roll or fold conveniently. Katakolon read it before he took it to do as Krispos had commanded. His eyes were troubled when he raised them to look at his father again. 'Surely it can't be as bad as—this?'

'I don't know whether it is or not,' Krispos said. 'But as to 301

whether it can be—by Phos, boy, it could be ten times worse. He might be landing in the city with a shipload of fanatics all hot to die for the gleaming path.'

'Phostis?' Katakolon's voice rose. He shook his head. 'I can't believe it.'

'I can, which is what matters,' Krispos answered. 'Now get moving. I didn't give you that note to argue over it, just to have it start on its way to the city.'

'Aye, Father,' Katakolon said dolefully.

'You don't suppose he'll 'accidentally' lose that, do you?' Sarkis said.

'He'd better not,' Krispos answered; the same thought had crossed his mind. He remembered his talk with Evripos back in the city. If his sons thought strongly enough that they were right, they would follow their own wills, not his. They were turning into men—at the most inconvenient time possible.

Had Phostis done that? When he chose to walk the gleaming path, was he making his own judgments as best he knew how, no matter how wrongheaded they seemed to Krispos? Or had he merely found someone whose lead he preferred to his father's? Krispos shook his head. He wondered if Phostis knew.

As he had so often over the years, he forced personal worries—and worries about which he could do nothing—