mouthed at the little army that blocked every exit from the square. ‘And you will sit by your wounded friend, hands spread in front of you. Try anything fancy, and I’ll start by having your toes nipped off. Do you understand me?’
As one of them nodded, Theophanes came into view.
‘My dear Aelric,’ he cried plaintively, ‘I can only ask what on earth you thought you were doing? I praise God that I had need of Martin’s company tonight.’ Was that a blush? Hard to say in the torchlight.
Dressed in black, a shawl over his head, Theophanes tried to look military. Torch in hand, Alypius stood beside him. I smiled grimly, but could think of nothing to say. For what it was worth, I’d show him the message soon. Theophanes, I had no doubt, would be astonished by the signature it carried.
Yes – Priscus had gone too far this time. That forgery, plus whatever testimony we could get out of those Syrians, would give him much explaining to do at his next meeting with the Emperor.
A shutter overhead flew open and a flickering light seeped out. The occupant looked down at us, realised this was state business, and closed it again with desperate force.
‘If you please, do bring that torch over here,’ I asked of Alypius.
I peered into the faces of the three sitting men. There’s something about Syrians – especially bearded ones. They all tend to look alike. But I was fixing on any peculiarities of expression. I wanted to remember those faces
The one I’d injured was in some kind of spasm from the pain. But a mild jab with a sword-point got him to look up. There was little worth remembering in the contorted expression. Instead I looked closely at the mutilated right hand. I noted the dark tattooed crosses on his remaining two knuckles.
I drew Theophanes over towards the church. ‘Please,’ I said, speaking low, ‘I’d like all four put in solitary under the Ministry. I want each one deprived of all sound and light. No food. No water. Naked and chained. No medical attention for the one with the wounded hand.
‘I want the cells guarded by your own people. No one goes into them except you or me – no one else at all. We’ll interrogate them tomorrow evening. Any sooner, and I’m not sure if they’d give us the truth.’
‘It will all be as you ask,’ said Theophanes. I could see the questioning look on his face.
‘It was’, said Theophanes, cup in hand, ‘the neatest double ambush you could ever have wanted to see. One moment, our hero was confronted by four low ruffians. The next, they were grovelling at his feet and blinking in the light of a dozen torches.’
Martin grunted and looked over to the sleeping Maximin. I could see he still wasn’t pleased that I’d gone without thinking into the night. Had Theophanes not turned up to demand a sudden report on me, I might be lying face down in a gutter.
‘Don’t worry,’ I’d said. ‘Really, I was never in the slightest danger – and we might be able to reduce the number of our enemies because of this.’
He’d paid no attention as he fussed over an inkpot.
‘Have some wine, Martin,’ I now said, leaning forward with the jug.
‘No thank you, sir,’ he said, still very stiff. He looked away.
‘Suit yourself,’ I said with a clumsy attempt at lightness. I waved to Gutrune to fetch some more of the spiced melon pulp for Theophanes.
‘Martin,’ said Theophanes with a slight emphasis, ‘you will be aware that at least our present game is approaching its end. Hera clius has nearly thirty thousand men outside the walls. Thirty thousand men – and barely enough food and shelter for half that number. If he doesn’t make his move in the next two days, he might as well not bother. But you and I know he will attack – don’t we?’
‘Yes,’ Martin said flatly.
I pretended not to notice the indirect warning. My own game was nowhere close to finished.
‘There will be an attack,’ Theophanes continued. ‘It may fail – in which case we shall have many more jolly parties ahead of us. If not, all that we have so far gone through together must be the whole sum of our relationship.
‘We shall meet again tomorrow in the course of business, and perhaps also the next day. But there may be no more of these little gatherings from which I have come to draw so much honest enjoyment.’
He turned to me. ‘Aelric,’ he said, ‘when the attack does come, I advise you to lock the main gate and barricade yourself in here. Do not advertise your presence. Pray that no one who might break in tries to set fire to the building. Wait patiently – in this beautiful home you have created within a drab official residence – wait until, one way or another, order has been restored. What you do then must be for you to decide in the circumstances prevailing.
‘But why give thought to the things of the morrow? Now let us drink and make merry.’
To Gutrune: ‘My dear woman, I will take just a little wine. Do please add plenty of water.’
She had enough Latin to understand ‘wine’. ‘Water’ was outside her vocabulary.
‘Do you remember, Martin,’ I asked, ‘the look on the Great One’s face as Theophanes began juggling those heads?’
So, keeping our voices down for Maximin, and for any spies who might be listening, we caroused till dawn.
53
Going out of the Legation next morning, I bumped into a band of about a dozen students from the University. One of them was wearing a breastplate far too large for his body. Another had perched a bronze helmet on his head that looked so like something in an ancient bas relief, he must have got it from a tomb.
They told me they had asked if they could join the first line of defence down at the docks, and had been honoured with an acceptance. Would I bless their weapons? one of them asked me. All the Greek priests they’d met had made excuses and scurried away.
And quite properly too, I’ll say. Men of God should only get involved in civil wars when it’s clear which side has won. I called an ambiguous blessing on the arms of the Emperor and continued about my own business.
I didn’t get far in the crowded streets. At the first main barricade, I met Priscus. He was patiently drilling some members of the Blue Faction in how to discharge their slingshots in a slow volley.
‘Oh, my darling vision of beauty!’ he exclaimed as I tried to sidle past. ‘How we insult your dignity by allowing you to wander about the City on foot and unguarded. I was only mentioning this to His Majesty yesterday – how we should keep our most distinguished guest out of danger.’
‘The time you spare from your own duties to think of me, dear Priscus,’ I said, ‘warms my heart. Is it true the Charisian Gate was open all night?’
Priscus scowled. He took hold of my arm and drew me aside. ‘Of course it fucking wasn’t,’ he snarled. ‘If ever I find who started that rumour, I’ll flay him with my own hands.’
He took out his leather pouch and began fussing over its many compartments.
‘One rumour I can promise is true’, he went on, his selection made, his mood restored, ‘is that Thomas snuffed it earlier this morning. He cursed all Latins and their ways, and then made a noise that reminded me of two mating hyenas. I can tell you this is so. I was there.’
‘So we have another clerical vacancy,’ I observed.
‘Sadly, you’ll not be filling that one as well,’ said Priscus with one of his charming smiles. ‘I’ve already recommended Sergius,’ he added proudly. ‘Phocas will have the announcement made at evening service.’
We stopped for yet another column of armed citizens to straggle past. These were wearing armour made from dismantled wine vats and carried bronze railings they had stripped from one of the parks to serve as spears.
Priscus took their salute and made a brief speech about the duties of patriotism.
As the great wooden gate of the Legation swung shut behind us, Priscus sagged straight out of his military pose.
‘Fuck me, Alaric!’ he moaned. ‘Much more of this and I’ll join a bloody monastery.’
He threw himself on to the couch in my office and breathed a handful of yellow powder up his nose. As ever, I refused to join him and reached for the jug of heavily watered wine that had appeared on my desk.
