fineness are correct. Would you like me to help you count it?’
‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ the horseman said. ‘With all my clients, I like to think I deal on trust. Let me give you what is now your property, to do with what you will.’
There was a rustling of smooth leather and then another silence. I was dying for a look at what they were trading. I almost had to hold myself from twisting my head up. Something was crawling on my neck. I hoped it wasn’t one of those yellow bugs. They had a nasty sting.
‘My, but aren’t those big, heavy scrolls,’ Leontius said uncertainly. ‘What am I supposed to do with them?’
‘When I am asked for information,’ he was answered, ‘my practice is to give it in full. If there is a lot here, it is because there was a lot to be gathered.’
‘I will read all this,’ said Leontius. He was still disconcerted. ‘But could you oblige with a verbal summary?’
‘Very well,’ the horseman said. I could hear a little smile. ‘Remember, though, that the written texts are the full report. Those are what you have bought. I hold out no warranties for any verbal summary.’ As if getting back on his horse, he twisted himself astride the column and faced Leontius. His booted left foot swung maybe four inches from my face.
‘Your target is not a natural-born citizen of the Empire,’ he said. ‘He comes from Britain, which I believe is an island to the west of Africa. Though this was in ancient times a province of the Empire, it is now given over, like much of the West, to barbarian occupiers.’
My heart skipped a beat. I’d normally have felt an overpowering urge to brush those bugs off me. There were two others now – brown ones – crawling up one of my arms. But, frozen in my place, I hardly breathed.
‘He is himself of barbarian stock,’ the horseman continued. ‘His claim to be descended from citizens of good quality is as false as the name he uses. His real name is also barbarian, but far less easily pronounced among the civilised. As for his claim to be thirty-five, that too is a lie. So far as I can gather, he is at least twelve and perhaps fifteen years younger.
‘He arrived in Rome just over three years ago. He was secretary to a priest sent back to gather books for the new Church mission established in his country. The priest was murdered in circumstances that neither Church nor Imperial authorities will reveal to any enquirer. It is enough to say that Alaric emerged with credit, and was able to stay on in Rome as main collector of books to the Church mission in a place called Canterbury.
‘He then moved about two years ago to Constantinople, again on Church business. He involved himself in the rather complex intrigues that ended in the replacement of Phocas with Heraclius. Since then, he has moved to a position of increasing importance in the Imperial Council. He is one of the projectors of the new land law. He has overseen its implementation in three provinces so far. And Heraclius is known to be impatient for his return to Constantinople, where he is needed to ensure good relations with the Roman Church.’
‘So, he’s the Emperor’s bumboy?’ Leontius cut in. He laughed unpleasantly. Sex was something anyone could understand. High politics, I’d known already, were beyond his provincial vision.
‘According to how these things are measured,’ the horseman said with quiet contempt, ‘he is number four or five in the Imperial Council. You haven’t bought my advice. But I will tell you free of charge to underestimate him at your peril. Despite his age, his reputation is for energy and efficiency.’
I nodded complacently at this. Those who spy never hear good of themselves, I’m told. That isn’t always true. But the fucking cheek of it! Leontius had got someone down all the way from Constantinople to do for me what I was having done for him. I was mortified. More than that, I was surprised. I’d never have thought him up to anything half so effective.
‘I have little interest in his university reforms,’ the horseman continued. ‘But I am assured that he could, but for his turn to politics, have become the most brilliant scholar of this age.’
‘I’m sure all you have to tell me is substantiated in your documentation,’ said Leontius. ‘However, I’m not sure if any of it is as useful as your associate promised it would be. My friends and I may choose to consider ourselves short-changed after so much promised.’
‘You can all choose to consider what you please,’ the horseman said drily. ‘But what I’ve given you, properly used, can severely undermine the authority here of the Lord Alaric. Heraclius is far away and preoccupied with five concurrent wars. What confidence will remain in a representative who turns out to be an under-aged barbarian of dubious background?’
‘Tell me about Priscus,’ Leontius asked with a sudden change of tone. ‘I mean the General Priscus.’
‘A nobleman in his late fifties,’ came the reply, ‘Priscus rose to prominence as a soldier in the reign of Maurice. He switched immediately to Phocas and became his son-in-law and heir. When it still seemed a matter of choice, he then switched to Heraclius and was rewarded with control of the armed forces. Why do you ask?’
‘Because he’s here,’ said Leontius. ‘He’s very interested in and sympathetic to my campaign against this barbarian child. I think he might be a useful ally to confirm all that you have finally brought me.’ There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of the scraping of the horseman’s boot against the other side of the column.
Then the horseman spoke again: ‘You regard Priscus as your ally?’ He laughed gently. ‘I can only rejoice I came here in time to collect my fee. I will freely advise you, my dear if temporary client, to watch Priscus very closely indeed. I will confirm that he and Alaric are sworn enemies at every level. Indeed, it was Priscus who led opposition in the Imperial Council to the land law. But there must be whole cemeteries filled with those who thought Priscus might be useful to them.’
The horseman suddenly changed tone. ‘You tell me you came here in secret?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ said Leontius.
‘Can you tell me, then,’ the horseman replied, ‘what that half-eaten loaf is doing on the ground?’
I kicked myself. I should have noticed that. But Leontius was laughing.
‘Some slave’s lunch,’ he said easily. ‘You must recall that I am a man of considerable weight in this whole region. I have friends in every party. I have that even without developments that will soon force every party to seek my friendship. I don’t think anyone would dare do anything so vulgar as spy on my movements.’
‘A wealthy city indeed,’ the horseman said with a sniff, ‘where even slaves can eat bread of that quality, and have new linen for wrapping it.’
‘Of course, I don’t want the information you’ve brought me to discredit the little fucker,’ Leontius said with a sudden shift to the defensive. ‘Ultimately, the landowners and even Priscus don’t matter a fig. It’s the boy who is important to me. If I can only get him under my control, just a few days up river from here, Nicetas – even the Emperor himself – won’t be able to lay a finger on me. Whatever I may have said to those who came up with the balance of your gold, I’ve commissioned all your dirt to turn the Great Lord Alaric into my own hunting dog. Do you suppose he will be open to such pressure?’
The horseman laughed. He swung his leg up and was sitting away from me again. Then there was the crunch of boots on the stony ground.
‘But I think our business is done,’ he said. ‘Bearing in mind how the day advances, you will forgive my calling an end to this meeting.’
I waited until the sound of hard breathing and of that firm booted tread was gone. I waited until I could hear the shouted orders at slaves and the gentle clopping of the horse on the road.
As I stamped viciously on every one of those bugs I could catch, the words kept repeating in my mind: Could have become the most brilliant scholar of this age. Even at my age, those words stung worse than any bug. For the moment, they obliterated any curiosity I might have felt over the blackmail attempt Leontius had in mind.
Could have become the most brilliant scholar of this age. I almost had to fight back the tears.
Chapter 12
‘I beg you, My Lords, not to use Greek in public. If you must speak in front of others, Latin is safer. It may not be recognised. And please, at all times, stay close by me. Even those who live here can have trouble at night in these unlit streets. If you are separated from me, you will be lost in moments.’
We nodded at Macarius. Priscus had turned his nose straight up at the rather nice brothel I’d urged on him. It was the Egyptian quarter, he’d insisted, or nothing.
