monastery,' he said. 'They are far too fine for the simple life the brethren live.'
'You may take them now, for all I care,' Petronas said, shrugging again.
Krispos was sure he'd hoped to embarrass Pyrrhos. He succeeded, too; the abbot went red to the top of his shaven pate. Recovering, he answered, 'As I said, that may wait until you join your fellow monks.' He held out the blue robe to Petronas. 'Put this on, if you please.' While Petronas slipped on the, monastic robe, Pyrrhos intoned, 'As the garment of Phos' blue covers your body, so may his righteousness enfold your heart and preserve it from all evil.'
'So may it be,' Petronas said. He traced the circular sun-sign over his heart. So did everyone in the Grand Courtroom, save only the heathen Halogai. Krispos did not feel hypocritical as he silently prayed that the man who till moments before had been Sevastokrator would make a good monk. Like all his countrymen, he took his faith seriously—and better for Petronas, he thought, to end up in a monastic cell than to spill his blood on the polished marble in front of the throne.
'It is accomplished, Brother Petronas,' Pyrrhos said. 'Come with me now to the monastery of the holy Sirikios, that you may make the acquaintance of your comrades in Phos' service.' He began to lead the new monk out of the Grand Courtroom.
'Holy sir, a moment, if you please,' Anthimos said from his throne. Pyrrhos looked back at the Avtokrator with obedience but no great liking: he had worked with Anthimos to bring down Petronas, but felt even more scorn for the younger man's way of life than for the elder's. Nonetheless he waited as Anthimos went on, 'You might be well advised to have Vagn, Hjalborn, and Narvikka there accompany you to the monastery, lest Brother Petronas, ah, suddenly repent of his decision to serve the good god.'
Dara had been proudly watching Anthimos since the drama in the throne room began, as if she had trouble believing he could face down his uncle and was overjoyed to be proven wrong. Now, hearing her husband speak such plain good sense, the Empress brought her hands together in a small, involuntary clap of delight. Krispos wished she would look at him that way.
He fought down a stab of jealousy. Anthimos, this time, was right. That made jealousy unimportant. When Pyrrhos hesitated, Krispos put in, 'Were things different, Petronas himself would tell you that was a good idea, holy sir.'
'You've learned well, and may the ice take you,' Petronas said. Then, surprisingly, he laughed. 'I probably would, at that.'
Pyrrhos nodded. 'Very well. Such untimely repentance would be a great sin, and sin we must always struggle against. Let it be as you say, your Majesty.' Along with his new monk and the three broad, burly Haloga warriors, the abbot withdrew from the imperial presence.
'Anthimos, thou conquerest!' one of the courtiers shouted—the ancient Videssian cry of approval for an Avtokrator. In an instant, the Grand Courtroom was full of uproar, with everyone trying to outyell his neighbor to show his loyalty to the newly independent ruler: 'Anthimos!' 'Thou conquerest, Anthimos !' 'Thou conquerest!' 'Anthimos!'
Beaming, the Emperor drank in the praise. Krispos knew much of it was insincere, made by men still loyal to Petronas but too wise in the ways of survival at the imperial court to show it. He made a mental note to ask Anthimos to post Halogai around the monastery of the holy Sirikios to supplement Pyrrhos' club-wielding monks. But that could wait; for the moment, like Anthimos, Krispos was content to enjoy the triumph he'd helped create.
At last the Avtokrator raised a hand. Anthimos said, 'As the first decree of this new phase of my reign, I command all of you here to go forth and live joyfully for the rest of your lives!'
Laughter and cheers rang through the Grand Courtroom. Krispos joined them. All the same, he was thinking Anthimos would need a more serious program than that if he intended to rule as well as reign. Krispos smiled a little. That program would have to come from someone. Why not him?
XII
'What is your will, your Majesty?' Krispos asked. 'Shall we continue your uncle's war against Makuran on the smaller scale we'll have to use because we've shifted men back to the north, or shall we make peace and withdraw from the few towns Petronas took?'
'Don't bother me right now, Krispos.' Anthimos had his nose in a scroll. Had the scroll been too far away for Krispos to read, he would have been impressed with the Emperor's industry, for it was a listing of property that looked much like a tax document. But Krispos knew it listed the wines in Petronas' cellars, which had fallen to Anthimos along with the rest of his uncle's vast holdings.
Krispos persisted. 'Your Majesty, spring is hard upon us.' He gestured to the open window, which let in a mild, sweet-smelling breeze and showed brilliant sunshine outside. 'If you don't want to meet the envoy the King of Kings has sent us, what shall I tell him?'
'Tell him to go to the ice,' Anthimos snapped. 'Tell him whatever you bloody well please. This catalogue says Petronas had five amphorae of golden Vaspurakaner wine, and my cellarers have only been able to find three. I wonder where he hid the other two.' The Avtokrator brightened. 'I know! I'll cast a spell of finding to sniff them out.'
Krispos gave up. 'Very well your Majesty.' He'd hoped to guide Anthimos. Like Petronas, he was discovering guiding was not enough most of the time. If anything needed doing, he had to do it. And so, while the Avtokrator busied himself with his spell of finding, Krispos bowed to Chihor-Vshnasp, the Makuraner ambassador.
Chihor-Vshnasp bowed back, less deeply. That was not an insult. Like most of his countrymen, Chihor- Vshnasp wore a bucket-shaped felt hat that was liable to fall off if he bent too far. 'I hope his Imperial Majesty recovers from his indisposition soon,' he said in excellent Videssian.
'So do I,' Krispos said, continuing the polite fiction he knew Chihor-Vshnasp knew to be a polite fiction. 'Meanwhile, maybe you and I can see how close we get to settling things for his approval.'
'Shall we try that, esteemed and eminent sir?' Chihor-Vshnasp's knowledge of Videssian usages seemed flawless. Thoughtfully studying Krispos, he went on, 'Such was the custom of the former Sevastokrator Petronas.' It was as smooth a way as Krispos could imagine of asking him whether he in effect filled Petronas' place.
'I think the Avtokrator will ratify whatever we do,' he answered.
'So.' Chihor-Vshnasp drew the first sound of the word out into a hiss. 'It is as I had been led to believe. Let us
