Krispos Rising

The abbot told the tale as Krispos had given it to him, then carried it forward. His explanation of how he had come to call for Krispos in the monastery was vague. Krispos had thought so the night before. Iakovitzes, however, was in a position to call Pyrrhos on it. 'I don't follow you there,' he said. 'Back up and tell me just how that happened.'

Pyrrhos looked harassed. 'Only if I have your vow by the lord with the great and good mind to let the story go no further—and yours as well, Krispos.' Krispos swore the oath; after a moment, Iakovitzes did, too. 'Very well, then,' the abbot said heavily. He told of his three dreams of the night before, and of ending up on the floor after the last one.

Silence filled the waiting room when he was done. Iakovitzes broke it, asking, 'And you think this means— what?'

'I wish I knew,' Pyrrhos burst out. He sounded as exasperated as he looked. 'That it is a sending, I think no one could deny. But whether it is for good or evil, from Phos or Skotos or neither, I would not begin to guess. I can only say that in some way quite unapparent to me, Krispos here is more remarkable than he seems.'

'He seems remarkable enough, though perhaps not in the way you mean,' Iakovitzes said with a smile. 'So you brought him to me, eh, cousin, to fulfill your dream's commandment to treat him like a son? I suppose I should be flattered—unless you think your dream does bode ill and are not letting on.'

'No. No priest of Phos could do such a thing without yielding his soul to the certainty of Skotos' ice,' Pyrrhos said.

Iakovitzes steepled his fingertips. 'I suppose not.' He turned his smile, charming and cynical at the same time, on Krispos. 'So, young man, now that you are here—for good or ill—what would you?'

'I came to Videssos the city for work,' Krispos said slowly. 'The abbot tells me you're hiring grooms. I've lived on a farm all my life but for the last couple of weeks. You won't find many city-raised folk better with beasts than I am.'

'There is probably a good deal of truth in that.' Iakovitzes raised an eyebrow. 'Did my cousin the most holy abbot—' He spoke with such fulsome sincerity that the praise sounded like sarcasm, '—also, ah, warn you that I sometimes seek more from my grooms than skill with animals alone?'

'Yes,' Krispos said flatly, then kept still.

Finally, Iakovitzes prompted him: 'And so?'

'Sir, if that's what you want from me, I expect you'll be able to find it elsewhere with less trouble. I do thank you for the breakfast, and for your time. Thank you as well, holy sir,' Krispos added for Pyrrhos' benefit as he stood to go.

'Don't be hasty.' Iakovitzes jumped to his feet, too. 'I do need grooms, as a matter of fact. Suppose I take you on with no requirement past caring for the beasts, with room and board and—hmm—a goldpiece a week.'

'You pay the others two,' Pyrrhos said.

'Dear cousin, I thought you priests reckoned silence a virtue,' Iakovitzes said. It was the sweetest snarl Krispos had heard. Iakovitzes turned back to him. 'Very well, then, two goldpieces a week, though you lacked the wit to ask for them yourself.'

'Just the beasts?' Krispos said.

'Just the beasts'—Iakovitzes sighed—'though you must not hold it against me if from time to time I try to find out whether you've changed your mind.'

'Will you hold it against me if I keep saying no?'

Iakovitzes sighed again. 'I suppose not.'

'Then we've got ourselves a bargain.' Krispos stuck out his hand. It almost swallowed Iakovitzes', though the smaller man's grip was surprisingly strong.

'Gomaris!' Iakovitzes shouted. The man who had let in Krispos and Pyrrhos appeared a moment later, panting a little. 'Gomaris, Krispos will be one of the grooms from now on. Why don't you find him some clothes better than those rags he has on and then get him settled in with the rest of the lads?'

'Of course. Come along, Krispos, and welcome to the household.' Gomaris waited till he was halfway down the hall, then added softly, 'Whatever else it is around here, it's rarely dull.'

'That,' said Krispos, 'I believe.'

'Here comes the farm boy.'

Krispos heard the whisper as he came into the stable. By the way Barses and Meletios sniggered at each other, he had been meant to hear. He scowled. They were both younger than he, but they were also from the city, and from families of more than a little wealth. So were most of Iakovitzes' grooms. They seemed to enjoy making Krispos' life miserable.

Barses took a shovel off the wall and thrust it at Krispos. 'Here you are, farm boy. Since you've lived with manure all your life, you can clean out the stalls today. You're used to smelling like the hind end of a horse.' His handsome face split in a wide, mocking grin.

'It's not my turn to shovel out today,' Krispos said shortly.

'Oh, but we think you should do it anyway,' Barses said. 'Don't we, Meletios?' The other groom nodded. He was even handsomer than Barses; almost pretty, in fact.

'No,' Krispos said.

Barses' eyes went wide in feigned surprise. 'The farm boy grows insolent. I think we'll have to teach him a lesson.'

'So we will,' Meletios said. Smiling in anticipation, he stepped toward Krispos. 'I wonder how fast farm boys learn. I've heard they're not too bright.'