The Dark Lord

Helena waved back, her fierce expression starting to fade.

'I will keep yours,' the Empress said. 'And you will help me get rid of a troublesome counselor. Agreed?'

'Agreed,' Anastasia said, though she felt a little odd. The little girl was watching them. She seemed familiar. The Duchess narrowed her eyes. Where have I seen her before? The girl turned away, just in time to pluck young Heracleonas from the stream, where he was trying to be a fish and breathe water.

—|—

'Lord and God?'

Galen did not respond. He was sitting at his desk in the workroom on the second floor of the Tiberian Palace, staring out one of the high, rectangular windows. The day was passing, blue sky beginning to shade towards evening. The city was busy—he could hear the dull murmur of voices, hammers, lowing cattle, sacred geese honking—unmindful of his splitting headache. The Emperor refused to cry out, though he could barely stand up. A shimmering wash of sparkling lights clouded half his vision, pulsing in time to the throb of his pulse and the crushing pain behind his right eye.

'Master? Are you well?'

Galen closed his eyes, though the piercing light remained. He licked his lips. They were dry. Maxian's anger had not abated, not even with Galen spending an hour—or two—in further, fruitless argument. Our course is so clear. At last the prince threw up his hands, shouting he 'agreed' before storming out. Galen's headache split open then, like Zeus erupting from the groin of Chronos, and the Emperor was barely able to walk down the hall to his office.

Nilos and the other scribes, of course, were waiting, along with an endless supply of scrolls to review, edicts to sign, documents to approve. Barely able to see, the Emperor ordered them all out, producing a flurry of activity and then the too-loud trampling of many feet as his scribes and clerks vacated the office. The resulting quiet had not helped.

'Master?'

Galen opened his eyes, focusing on the worried, thin face of his head clerk. 'What is it?' he whispered.

'My lord, perhaps you should go home. You seem... tired.'

'That's very polite of you, Nilos.' The Emperor exhaled with difficulty. 'I have a headache with a name—the worst kind. Is there anything pressing?'

The Greek seemed uneasy and did not respond. Galen noticed the man had a stack of legal documents in his hands, wrapped with the dark red string the Palace staff used to denote manuscripts for the Emperor's attention. 'What is this?'

'Nothing pressing, Lord and God,' Nilos said, clutching the wooden folders to his chest. 'You know... my cousin sometimes suffers from terrible headaches. He says it's like a vise crushing his temples.'

'This feels that bad,' Galen grated, squinting. 'What does he do?'

'Goes to see a prostitute,' Nilos said with a straight face. 'Or eats Axumite beans.'

'What is an Axumite bean?' Galen pointed at the documents. The motion made him feel queasy, but focusing on something other than his brother's pigheadedness was a welcome distraction. 'That is a senatorial will, isn't it?'

'An Axumite bean,' Nilos said, moving away and putting the stack of parchments on the far end of the marble-topped table, 'is a little red bean from a green bush. If you chew them, many pains are banished. He says they help if you have a very bad headache.'

Galen stood up and moved along the desk, supporting himself on the cool marble. 'They help more than a prostitute? Do you have any?' He reached for the top folder.

'I know some,' Nilos said, snatching the folders away from the Emperor. 'But you should visit your beautiful wife. A most efficacious cure for many maladies! These things will wait until tomorrow. Or the day after.'

'Give me the folder,' Galen growled. 'Or I will have you cut into tiny pieces by the guards. If this were Egypt, there would be crocodiles to clean up the mess, but I'm sure the circus is well stocked with hungry lions...'

'Yes, master.' Nilos said, relinquishing his hold on the documents. He looked a little ill himself. 'Should I find you some Axumite beans?'

'Wait a moment,' Galen said, opening the folder and squinting at the closely-set lines of handwritten text within. It was a will. He flipped through several pages of declarations and invocations to the gods for a just and swift disbursement of the inheritance. 'This is the will of Gregorius Auricus.'

'Yes, Lord and God.' Nilos clasped both hands behind his back and focused on a point above the Emperor's shoulder.

Galen's brow furrowed and the pain behind his right eye abated, driven out by intense irritation. His finger paused on the signatures at the bottom of the last page. 'This was prepared by the very Gaius Julius who is familiar to us?'

Nilos nodded, though his mouth puckered up like a quince.

The Emperor considered the date of preparation and announcement in the Forum. 'This is a revised will, replacing an earlier draft?'

The Greek nodded again.

'Does a copy of the previous will exist?'

'Yes,' Nilos said slowly, obviously hesitant. Galen raised an eyebrow.

'Have you seen the previous will?' Another nod. 'The benefactor was—'

'Lord and God, there were several...' Nilos' voice trailed off, then—faced with growing anger in the Emperor's face—he rallied and was able to say, '...temples devoted to good works, master. The Vestals, the Asklepian hospital on the Isla Tiberis, the funeral clubs for soldiers without families...'

Galen looked down at the document again. His entire body became still and quiet. ''All estates, lands, monies, investments, partnerships and shares previously owned by the senator,'' he read aloud, ''are now the sole property of one Maxian Julius Atreus, son of Galen the elder, an adult Roman male without living father.'' The Emperor paused, then continued in a stiff voice. ''To be administered and executed by his agent, Gaius Julius.''

The clerk blanched a little at the tone, but nodded again. 'Properly filed, master.'

'Was it?' Galen closed the folder. 'Yet all senatorial inheritances, particularly those without heirs of the body, must be approved by the Emperor. By me,' he snapped. 'Has my brother taken possession of this fortune, these estates?'

'Well... no, Lord and God.' Nilos gained some heart. 'But Master Gaius was already the senator's administrator and aide. He is already responsible for everything.'

'Not now,' Galen said with a sharp tone in his voice. 'I deny this claim.' He handed the folders back to Nilos, who was staring at the Emperor in surprise. 'These properties are declared the property of the Imperial Household. All managers and foremen will be immediately replaced and an audit will be conducted to ensure the previous administrator has properly maintained the patrimony of the Emperor's beloved friend, Gregorius Auricus.'

Nilos turned a little green.

'Do you understand?' The Emperor's poor humor disappeared, replaced by unsubtle anger.

'Yes, Lord and God.' The clerk bowed, then crept out of the room. Galen did not notice his departure, for the Emperor was staring out the window again, across the massive buildings of the Forum. The city sprawled away to the edge of sight, a jumble of red-roofed apartments, shining temples and the imposing bulk of the Antonine Baths. He felt better, much better.

I am the Emperor of Rome, he thought, finding solace in the statement. I am the Empire.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Near Iblis

Moisture brushed against Mohammed's face and he came awake. There was water, real water, cold and wet. Without thinking, he opened his lips. Something stiff pressed against his cheek, and water spilled into his mouth. He opened his eyes, startled. Take nothing from this place, he thought wildly. A