‘So we are agreed?’ Siroes asked. ‘We are agreed on a permanent alliance of our three crowns – an alliance to take what is ours by right, and to take what ought to be ours by means of the force prophesied to us?’
‘Let it be as you suggest, my dear Brother in Purple,’ said Lucas.
I’d been glancing at his face while Priscus and Siroes were talking. He hadn’t yet spoken much. But he was looking at his notes with a mixture of awe and cunning. He was visibly thinking how not to be other than last to go down that hole – and how long before its covering slab might safely be lifted again.
‘We may be agreed, my dear fellow,’ Priscus said wearily. ‘But I’d be grateful for some explanation of how we are to translate possession of this object that so excites you into shared dominion over all the nations. I can’t say it wouldn’t please me to watch Heraclius devoured by hyenas in the Circus in Constantinople. But the prospect won’t excite me until I’ve been given some indication of the means.’
Siroes smiled. ‘I understand that you retain command of all the military forces in and around Alexandria,’ he said.
Priscus nodded. If Nicetas really had recovered from his fright, that wouldn’t be technically correct. Even so, the men might follow Priscus rather than him. Setting them to an easy massacre, with rape and plunder for dessert, is the quickest way to a soldier’s heart.
‘Good,’ Siroes continued. ‘Then we will march on Alexandria just as soon as our business here is finished. From there, we will send letters to Heraclius and to Chosroes. We will invite both to come in person to Daras on what is still more or less the border between our two empires. There, I will recite the words that only I know, thereby combining what I have with what we shall jointly acquire tomorrow into a demonstration of the power that we have. I do not expect any difficulty beyond that. We shall take power by acclamation. If there is any delay, we shall simply have to see one or both capitals go up in a fire that cannot be quenched.’
‘Before we both declare ourselves traitors,’ Priscus replied, ‘and that might well bring on the truce Heraclius has been begging for these past two years, I think it would be best if we could all be sure that the power you promise really is what you believe it to be. I might add that, if this is a power that still requires some armed support, it might not be what you would have us believe. I suggest a prior demonstration for our own benefit. Whatever you are planning for Daras might be tried first in Alexandria. Nicetas can stand in perfectly well for Heraclius in this as in all other respects.’
Siroes laughed bleakly. ‘Then let it be so, Priscus,’ he said. ‘I did suppose His Majesty the Pharaoh would choose to make his capital in Alexandria, and that this might be taken with conventional force. But if you wish to see Nicetas devoured from within, let fire and pestilence be spread also through the streets of that great and famous city.’
If Priscus still didn’t look convinced, there seemed no point in his continuing the interrogation. He shrugged and pointed at the wine. Lucas sat nearest the jug. He pulled a face and stared back. But there were none of his people in the tent to witness any humiliation. Priscus pointed again, then went back to stroking his cat. Putting on what he may have thought an hospitable look, Lucas got up and filled four cups. Siroes took out his dice and Priscus cast them. We took the cups allotted, and then exchanged them one last time at random.
‘Come, dear friends,’ Priscus called with a semblance of cheer, ‘let us drink to Success in Unity.’
Two firm voices, and one with a mutter, repeated the toast. We raised our cups. I drank.
I looked up in the sudden silence. Still full to the brim, three other cups had been set down again on the table. I looked at Priscus, who was now smiling expectantly.
‘Oh, Jesus!’ I cried. ‘I blame myself for this. I should have remembered what a fucking snake you were.’ I clutched at my throat and rolled my eyes.
‘You were right, Priscus,’ Lucas cried exultantly. ‘The barbarian drank as greedily as if he’d been a sick slave.’ He turned to me. ‘You can now look forward to an eternity in Hell for your impertinence to the Chosen One of Isis. You can see there what the demons think of your “State of Nature” and your “Perfect Freedom”.’ He took up his water cup and refilled it. ‘Did I not once tell you,’ he asked, ‘that I am now a sworn stranger to wine? Did that fact slip your drunkard mind?’ He spat in my direction and laughed. ‘No witch will save you now,’ he gloated. ‘You will die choking in pain before our eyes. The very night beasts of the desert will spurn your tainted barbarian flesh.’ He drank again and laughed triumphantly.
‘Do believe me, Alaric,’ Priscus said, now friendly, ‘that this was a difficult task. I did argue your case. But I was outvoted. And you will agree that your usefulness as finder of whatever this object may be is now at an end. Siroes is assured we can do the rest together.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, now raising his voice again, ‘I give you the toast a second time: Success in Unity!’
I fell back and coughed hard. Siroes raised his water cup in another ironic toast and drained it.
‘Oh, Aelric! Aelric!’ Martin sobbed as he threw himself at me. ‘This is all my doing. You should have left me to die at the Church of the Apostles.’ He snatched the cup from my hands and drained it to the bitter dregs. He embraced me and slobbered a kiss on my cheek. My blanket fell loose and my nipple stiffened in the slight chill that I now felt around me. ‘O God,’ he cried in a loud voice, ‘let me burn in Hell for my sins. But show mercy on this blessed if foolish barbarian child.’ He dropped the cup and clutched at himself. ‘I feel death already clawing at my vitals,’ he called, now speaking still louder. ‘Let the agonies of death be just the prelude to my deserved sufferings in Hell. O God in Thy Mercy, let-’
‘Oh, do shut up, Martin!’ Priscus said wearily. ‘Whatever happens when you’re out of it, you really should remember your position in this world, and only speak when spoken to.’
I kicked Martin hard on the shin and pulled a face. That shut him up. I resisted the urge to laugh at the expression on his face. I rearranged my blanket and sat forward again.
‘Now, gentlemen,’ Priscus said to the whole company, ‘because I’m in talkative mood, I’ll tell you something not many people know.’ He took out one of the black pills he reserved for moments that he was already relishing. ‘Tittymilk of Hera is the finest weapon in the poisoner’s arsenal. I cannot recall how useful I’ve found it these past forty years for removing those inconvenient souls who cannot be got at by other means. However – and Alaric should know this – it is completely useless in wine. Never mind the taste, you’d need to be pissy drunk not to notice the smell.
‘In water, on the other hand, it has neither smell nor taste.’ He put down his own still full water cup and put the black pill on to his yellowish tongue. He washed it down with a long single gulp of his wine. He looked around, bright anticipatory pleasure on his face.
Siroes opened his mouth, his face gone suddenly grey. He looked at his empty cup. Lucas simply looked stupid.
Chapter 66
‘Because I’m still in talkative mood,’ Priscus continued with a complacent look round the table, ‘I’ll tell you what you can expect. In the dose I’ve just administered, you should already be feeling a paralysis of the speech organs and of the limbs. This should last some while, the stiffness growing progressively more uncomfortable. You should feel the approach of death in some convulsions – convulsions that will be exquisitely painful and, from my point of view, conveniently silent.
‘Do have some more of this, Alaric, my dear boy,’ he said, leaning forward with the wine jug. ‘I’ll not grudge a taste to Martin. But it really is too delicious to pass up.’
I drank again and it set my teeth on edge. Martin was still retching and clutching at his stomach. I kicked him again, and followed this with a gentle slap to the unbandaged side of his face. Siroes and Lucas, now speechless, were beginning to tremble and to sweat heavily. Priscus smiled and stretched his arms. He sat back in his chair. He looked round for his cat. It was quietly shitting over in a corner of the tent.
‘I must thank you, Alaric,’ he said, ‘for playing along so well. Do tell me, though, how it was you managed to guess my intentions.’
‘I’ve never known you to trust anyone,’ I said. ‘I really couldn’t imagine you’d play along with these two a moment longer than you needed. It was when you had the water bowl filled right up that I guessed you’d been at work on the brim.’
‘Clever lad!’ he said appreciatively. ‘If I ever need to poison you, I see I’ll not be able to pull that one again. But how did you know the wine wasn’t poisoned? Three bodies, after all, might be just as useful to me as
