'What they call glory, I think, is mostly the relief you feel after you've fought and lived through it without getting maimed. If you have.'
'Hmm.' Mavros rode on in silence for some time after that. Before he and Krispos got to Opsikion, though, he was slaying bushes again. Krispos did not try to dissuade him. He suspected Mavros would make a better soldier than he did himself—the young noble seemed inclined to plunge straight ahead without worrying about consequences, a martial trait if ever there was one.
They got to Opsikion a little before midmorning. Being with Mavros got Krispos through the south gate with respectful salutes from the guards. When they came to Bolkanes' inn, they found Iakovitzes just sitting down to breakfast—unlike most folk, he did not customarily rise at dawn.
He fixed Krispos with a glare. 'Nice of you to recall who your master is.' His eyes flicked to Mavros. Krispos watched his expression change. 'Or have you been cavorting with this magnificent creature?'
'No,' Krispos said resignedly. 'Excellent sir, let me present Mavros to you. He is the son of the noblewoman Tanilis, and is interested in returning to Videssos with us when your mission is done. He'd make a fine groom, excellent sir; he knows horses.'
'Tanilis' son, eh?' Iakovitzes rose to return Mavros' bow; he'd evidently learned who Tanilis was. But he went on,'When it comes to grooms for my stables, I don't care if he's the Avtokrator's son, not that Anthimos has one.'
He shot several searching questions at Mavros, who answered them without undue trouble. Then he went outside to look over the youth's mount. When he came back, he was nodding. 'You'll do, if you're the one who's been tending that animal.'
'I am,' Mavros said.
'Good, good. You'll definitely do. We may even get to leave before fall comes; Lexo may see reason after all. At least I'm beginning to hope so again.' Iakovitzes looked almost cheerful for a moment as he sat down. Then he found something new to complain about. 'Oh, a plague! My sausage is cold. Bolkanes!'
As the innkeeper hurried up, Mavros whispered to Krispos, 'Is your master always like that?'
'Now that you mention it, yes,' Krispos whispered back.
'I wonder if I want to see Videssos the city enough to work for him.' But Mavros was joking. He raised his voice to a normal level. 'I'm going to ride home now, but I'll be in town a lot. If I'm not, just send a messenger for me and I'll come ready to travel.' Bowing again to Iakovitzes, he left the taproom.
Around a mouthful of fresh, steaming sausage, Iakovitzes said, 'So now you're hobnobbing with young nobles, are you, Krispos? You're coming up a bit in your choice of friends.'
'If I hadn't spent these last months with you, excellent sir, I wouldn't have had any idea how to act around him,' Krispos said. Flattery that was also true, he'd found, worked best.
It worked now. Iakovitzes' gaze lost the piercing quality it had when he was suspicious about something. 'Hrmp,' he said, and went back to his breakfast.
Three days later, Mavros brought Krispos another dinner invitation. Krispos went out and bought a new tunic, a saffron-yellow one that went well with his olive skin. After he paid for it, he felt odd. It was the first time he'd got a shirt just for the sake of having something new.
Tanilis' admiring glance that evening made the purchase seem worthwhile. She was worth admiring herself, in a thin dress of white linen that emphasized how small her waist was. More gold shone on her wrists and around her neck.
'You are welcome, as always,' she said, holding out her hand.
Krispos took it. 'Thank you, my ... Tanilis.' His tongue slipped by accident, but he watched her eyes fall as she heard the last two words together. Maybe his hope of the previous visit had not been so foolish after all.
But if that was so, she gave no hint of it during dinner. Indeed, she said very little. Mavros did most of the talking; he bubbled with excitement at the prospect of heading west for the city. 'When will we leave?' he asked. 'Do you know? How fare Iakovitzes' talks with the Khatrisher?'
'Better, I think,' Krispos said. 'He's hardly swearing at all when he gets back from the eparch's residence these days. With him, that's a very good sign.'
'I'll start packing, then.'
'Go ahead, but don't pack anything you might want before you go. He was like this once before, weeks ago, and then things fell apart again.' Krispos took a last luscious bite of blackberry tart and turned to Tanilis. 'I wish your cook could come with me along with your son. I don't think I've ever eaten so well.'
'I'll tell Evtykhes you said so,' she said, smiling. 'Your praise will please him more than what he gets from us —you're not obliged to say kind things to him for politeness' sake.'
Krispos had not thought about that. The servants at Iakovitzes' home were the only ones he'd known, and he was one among them. For that matter, Iakovitzes did not say kind things to anyone for politeness' sake. He used the rough edge of his tongue, not the smooth, to keep his people in line.
Tanilis said, 'Though I must keep Evtykhes, Krispos, you will need more than you have if what we hope is to be accomplished. When you and Mavros do at last depart for the imperial city, I will send gold with you.'
'My lady—' This time Krispos deliberately used her title rather than her name—'even with Mavros with me in Videssos, what's to keep me from spending the gold just on women and wine?'
'You are.' Tanilis looked him full in the face. Those huge dark eyes held his; he had the uneasy feeling she could peer deeper into him than he could himself. Now he was the first to lower his gaze.
Mavros rose. 'I'm off. If I'm to be leaving soon, I have some farewells to make.'
Tanilis watched him go. 'What was it you said about wine and women?' she asked Krispos. 'Most of his farewells will be of that sort, I expect.'
'He's coming into a man's years and a man's pleasures,' Krispos replied from the peak of maturity that was twenty-two.
