Byzantium

'Indeed,' I allowed, 'yet there are Christians among the astrologers and seers. I was always taught that such practices were an abomination.'

'Then you were well taught,' replied the bishop tartly. 'All such devilry is an abomination in the sight of God. Those are no true Christians you saw holding forth with the seers and soothsayers.'

'Are they not?'

'Be not deceived, son. They are Paulicians.' He said the word as if it were the name of a particularly hideous disease.

I had never heard of this sect, and told Arius so.

'Would that no one had ever heard of them,' he said pointedly. 'Forewarned is forearmed, so know this: they are members of a heretical sect which promulgates the instruction of a misguided apostate-a man who styled himself a teacher, yet whose teaching was far, far removed from that of his blessed namesake.'

He spoke with such vehemence, I wondered what they could believe that would arouse such wrath. 'These Paulicians,' I inquired, 'is it that they believe a false doctrine? Or that they lead others astray with their teaching? Either way, why not simply excommunicate them and ban the belief?'

'That was done,' the bishop affirmed, 'and accomplished with admirable vigour. But as sometimes happens, driving them out of the church has only made the sect stronger. It is no longer simply a matter of belief; their very existence is an offence against Heaven and all true Christians. What is more, they have amassed such power in certain quarters so as to choke out the very truth. Their doctrine-if the word can be used-is a perverted accretion of errors, lies, and half-truths.' Arius appeared to have swallowed something sour. 'These Paulicians propound that God created only the heavens and the celestial lights, while the Evil One created earth and all upon it. Every other tenet of their belief flows from this.'

I observed that many people held such views-if not overtly, then at least in their tacit response to the world. 'Many who call themselves Christians,' I suggested, 'behave in such a way as to reveal a true belief in no way dissimilar to that which these Paulicians teach.'

The bishop rolled his eyes. 'How well I know it, my friend. I have been twenty-eight years in the church, mind. No, no, it is not their assertion of an evil creator that is most offensive-if only they had stopped there! How much misery would have been prevented, only God can say. But they compound their sins, and go on adding lie to lie.

'For example, they say that the Lord Christ was merely an angel sent from Heaven to wage war against the Evil One,' Bishop Arius replied, his mouth squirming with distaste. 'They insist that the Virgin Mary is but an ordinary woman, unworthy of devotion, or veneration, or indeed any special consideration. They hold not to Holy Scripture at all, and preach that all men are free to follow their own dictates since the laws laid down by God were for the Hebrews of old, and no longer concern right-thinking human beings. Accordingly, they do not believe in marriage, or any other sacrament, nor the primacy of the church, nor even baptism.'

'Shocking, to be sure,' I conceded, warming to the debate. How long had it been since I had discussed such matters of doctrine in a learned manner? 'Still, they sound harmless enough.' Heresies abounded in the East, as everyone knew; and many were much worse than the benighted Paulicians.

'That is where you are wrong,' the churchman corrected. 'They are not content to preach and teach, but persist in fomenting riots and uprisings in the provinces.'

'Over baptism?' I wondered aloud.

'Over taxes,' corrected the bishop. 'Four thousand peasants and farmers were killed the last time. For this cause, and all the rest, they were purged from Constantinople. It is our misfortune that they fled east and now reside almost wholly in these much-disputed territories-at least, that is what is said. I have reason to believe, however, that very many yet reside in Constantinople, secretly, gnawing away like rats at the substance of the Holy Church. Rumour has it that some have even wormed their way to the very foot of the throne.'

'What do they want in Trebizond?' I wondered.

'They come here for the fair, like everyone else,' replied Arius. 'They come from Tarsus, from Marash and Raqqa in the south, where it is said they have made alliance with the Muhammedans. In exchange for allegiance, the caliph allows them to practise their abominable religion. They are ever seeking converts among the discontented.'

I was on the point of asking him for a description of these Muhammedans when Nicephorus appeared and I was dismissed, whereupon I left the house and hastened to my consultation with Amet.

As I walked along the much-constricted street to the forum, I could not help reflecting on the fact that despite whatever Bishop Arius might say, the fair was well-attended by the humble churchgoers of Trebizond. Tiny golden crosses were purchased right alongside glass amulets to be worn as protection against the evil eye-for if angels stood ready to aid the God-fearing, then demons were just as eager to harm them; and if Christians could command angels, then the wicked could certainly command devils.

In this and other ways, it seemed to me that most of the bishop's flock were far closer to these Paulicians he despised, than to his orthodoxy. Still, it was merely a matter of passing interest; I told myself that I was finished with such tedious matters of the faith. The rise or fall of an obscure sect was nothing to me.

These thoughts occupied me as I made my way among the magicians' stalls set up in the forum: crystal- gazers and potion-makers, men who foretold the future in the livers of freshly killed animals, the amulet-sellers, purveyors of incense and readers of knucklebones and gopher sticks.

In the encampment of the astrologers, I found Magus Amet in much the same posture as I had left him the day before. He opened his eyes at my arrival, welcomed me, and bade me to sit, patting the cushion beside him. Then, turning to a copper pot which was steaming over a small fire, he lifted the vessel and poured a thin brown liquid into two tiny glass cups sitting on a brass tray. Holding the tray, he offered me a cup, saying, 'Refresh yourself, my friend.'

Accepting the cup, I lifted it to my lips. It was very hot, so I hesitated. 'Drink! Drink! It will not harm you,' Amet said. Taking up his cup, he sipped the hot liquid noisily into his mouth. 'Ah! Most refreshing, you will find.'

The stuff smelled vaguely herbal, so I sipped at it and found the taste not unpleasant-a little like rose petals combined with tree bark, and something slightly fruity. 'It is very nice, Amet,' I said. Even as I swallowed down the elixir, my heart began beating faster for word of what he had to tell me.

'You are wondering,' he said, 'if I have discovered anything of interest to you.'

'That I am,' I granted, 'though I must confess that all my teaching prior to this moment has warned me against trifling with the forces of darkness.'

'Forces of darkness?' Amet raised his eyebrows high. 'Hoo! Listen to you! If that is what you believe, then be gone from me. Shoo! Go away.'

'Truly,' I told him, shaking my head, 'I no longer know what I believe.'

'Then allow me to assure you, my sceptical friend, that I have not spent my life in the pursuit of trifles. The same God-the very same-who set the stars in motion guides my sight along Future's course. This is my belief.'

We sipped our drink in silence for a time, and then Amet put aside his cup and slapped his knees with the palms of his hands. 'I have discovered many things about you, my friend,' he said. 'Whether they are of interest to you is another matter, and one which you alone must decide. Shall I tell you?'

'Yes, tell me. I am not afraid.'

The old man's eyes narrowed as he looked at me. 'Fear comes into your mind very quickly. When I said you were a seer, you protested to me that you were not. Yet I know that you are, and I think you have seen something of what the future holds for you, or fear would have no place in your thoughts.'

'It may be as you say,' I allowed vaguely, trying not to give away any more to him than that. If his abilities were genuine, and I truly hoped they were, I wanted to learn from an untainted source.

'Since that is the way of it,' Amet continued, 'what can I tell you that you do not already know?'

This seemed to me a ruse-a trick to coax the ignorant or gullible into revealing more about themselves, details which the seer could then claim as proof of his veracity and craft. 'Pretend I know nothing of which you speak, for indeed-with all respect, Amet-you have told me nothing.'

The old man's wrinkles rearranged themselves into an expression of deepest pity. 'Very well,' he said, choosing a scroll from among those in his basket. He unrolled the parchment and studied it for a moment, then began to read aloud. 'All praise to Allah, Wise and Magnificent, Ruler of Realms, Progenitor of Peoples and Nations! Blessings to all who honour His name.' So saying, he bowed his head three times, then raised his eyes to me and