said. ‘Go there if the need arises. The Fathers are all Monophysites but good people otherwise. They owe me much for the protection I’ve given them over the years. Show them this-’
With an effort, he pulled a black ring from one of his fingers. ‘Give them this, and trust them. Once order is restored, dress as one of their own and set out for Pavia or Marseilles. So long as you don’t show your face or hair, you can easily pass as a cleric of any theological persuasion. No one ever stops a monk.
‘Go, and don’t ever come back to the City or to any Imperial territory.’
I took the ring and held it up to the light. I’d noticed it outside the City, when it had been the only one not stripped from him by the barbarians. It was of heavily worn and pitted bronze.
‘Why are you doing this for me?’ I asked.
‘I do it because I can,’ came the answer. ‘If I could do more, I would.’
‘And what of you, Theophanes?’ I asked.
His face closed over. ‘Be assured’, he said, ‘that Theophanes the Magnificent has his own plans for when the moment comes. Only remember that I served the Empire to the best of my abilities when I could. The Persians may overwhelm you. If not them, some other race will finish the job. It could all have been so different if only this ghastly Religion of the Son hadn’t come to divide citizen from citizen.
‘You’re a Westerner. Even if in Latin, you’re trapped within the circle of Greek theology. None of you – Greek, Latin, barbarian – has ever realised that Easterners don’t fundamentally care about the Son. For us, it has always been the Father and the Father alone. That isn’t just the Jews – it’s all of us.
‘If Constantine had only realised this, he could have united the Empire for eternity. He missed his chance. No one else after him thought to repair the mistake. Now, if it ever is repaired, it will be from without your civilisation, and to the eventual ruin of your civilisation.’
The last thing I’d expected from Theophanes at this moment was a lecture on theology.
‘Will I ever learn what you and Phocas and Demetrius were up to?’ I asked.
‘Pray that you can ask that of His Excellency the Dispensator in Rome,’ Theophanes replied. ‘He knows all.’
‘Will the Emperor be joining me tonight?’ I asked.
Theophanes laughed bitterly. ‘His Majesty is currently so drunk, he can’t hold a pen to sign the last death warrants. Pray you’ll not see him again.’
He turned abruptly and walked away from me. Some old men squeezed into armour blocked his way at first. As he reached them, they suddenly stood back and bowed for him to pass. I watched him walk briskly across the square past the Great Church. At the far end, he turned not in the direction of the Ministry, but towards the palace.
I watched until he was out of sight. Then I turned back to the shop window. Inside, clearly visible in the torchlight, were some beautiful shoes. One pair I was sure would fit me. I had only to smash one of the panes and reach in for them. No one would stop me.
In the end I decided it would set a bad example. So I went home to catch up on sleep.
As the gate of the Legation swung shut behind me, I breathed a sigh of relief. The lamps were turned down but I could see that all was neat and orderly. I crossed the hall and rapped on the door to my suite.
‘Who’s there?’ Martin hissed from behind the heavy wood.
‘It’s me,’ I said. ‘I’ve come for a break from leading my army of old men and schoolboys.’
Fully clothed, I lay on my bed. Martin sat beside me.
‘I went out myself earlier,’ he said. ‘I know you told me to stay inside, but I had to get out for a walk. Everyone was talking of you as a future Emperor.’
I sat up. ‘In the name of God!’ I cried. ‘Let’s hope that doesn’t get back to any of the Imperial rivals. Besides, the last thing I want is to rule over this mob of lunatics.’
I showed him the ring Theophanes had given me. ‘This means’, I said, ‘we all have some means of escape. You can now stay here in good conscience with the others.’
‘God spoke to me while you were out,’ Martin said in a voice that he might have used for reminding me of a lunch appointment with Sergius. ‘He told me you would be saved if I did my duty. He finally told me why I was spared in the Yellow Camp.’
I lay back and stared up at the plaster vaulting. Outside my window, all remained dark. I really should try to get some rest. Before leaving me, Martin passed on some thoroughly grim news that no one else had seen fit to share with me. Just before nightfall, the chain securing the Golden Horn had been let down from the Galatan shore.
The City was now indefensible on every side.
58
The attack started in the middle of the next morning. It was a fine day. A good south wind was blowing away the broken cloud above the City. We’d not be fighting in rain or cold. Nor, though, would it be too hot for action.
Bathed and oiled with unusual care, I stood in my fine armour on the dome of the Great Church. From here, I had an unbroken view of the whole City and of the seas and the countryside that lay beyond.
The smoke signals I’d arranged went up from four places at once along the land walls. They went up, and then vanished in the wind.
‘The Second and Fourth Military Gates,’ Martin said, pointing due west. ‘Plus, I think, the Saint Anna and Charisian Gates.’
I doubted if there had been any military resistance at all. What surprised me was that anyone had bothered to follow my orders to signal that the gates were open. Perhaps every gate had opened.
All that mattered was that Heraclius was now inside the City. His forces would be marching up along those straight, wide streets, and they’d be on us in due course.
As we joined the crowds gathered outside the church I was met by the aged guard who’d stopped me all that time ago outside the Senatorial Dock.
‘If it may please you, sir,’ he gasped, out of breath from running, ‘the Green Faction has betrayed the Main Harbour. They’ve declared for Heraclius and turned on the Blues.’
I looked at the Aged Guard. He looked steadily back.
‘Is it worth fighting at all?’ I asked uncertainly. Was this the excuse I’d been hoping for to call the whole thing off?
He smiled and drew himself more stiffly to attention. ‘Duty is duty, sir,’ he said. ‘So long as you lead us, we’ll fight for you.’ He touched the blue cloth that covered part of his breastplate. ‘In any event, sir,’ he added, ‘it’s too late for any of us to back out. Our enemy now isn’t Heraclius. It’s them shitbag Greens. If we try dispersing, they’ll pick us off in the streets. Those of us what escape won’t never hear the end of it in the Circus.’
A younger and less military man spoke up from behind me:
‘Too right, My Lord. It’s battle or death for all on these barricades. It’s already bloody murder down in the docks. We fight until Heraclius draws off the Greens and sends in his regulars. We go on fighting until he gives us terms.’
There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd that had gathered to hear the exchange. For the first time, I realised that everyone around me – and everyone I’d seen manning the barricades – was wearing something blue. The only ones not in blue were my students. I knew Priscus had recruited the Circus Factions. I’d been too wrapped up in my own business, and I was still too fresh to Circus politics, to realise that he’d recruited them as members of existing armies rather than of a citizen militia.
‘Another thing, sir,’ the Aged Guard added confidentially. ‘Orders is that if you won’t lead us, we’re to hang you from the torch bracket nearest the doorway of the Great Church. You could, of course, countermand the order, was we to put you up for Emperor. You couldn’t be worse than the last few we’ve had.’
I smiled and shook my head. I looked out over the sea of faces. Some were troubled. Most were expectant.
‘Then we fight,’ I said. I ignored the threat. I had no duty to Phocas. I had none to any of the Circus Factions.
