Krispos Rising

But he wanted her. He'd been uneasily aware of that for months, however hard he tried to suppress it even from himself. Anthimos, he thought, would be occupied for some time yet. A eunuch or maidservant coming by would think the Empress here alone—he hoped. He closed the doors.

Dara felt the danger, too. 'Hurry!' She held out her arms to him.

Slipping out of his robe was the work of a moment. He got down on the bed beside her. She clutched him as if she were drowning at sea and he a floating spar.' Hurry,' she said again, this time into his ear. He did his best to oblige.

He thought of the sea once more as he separated from her some time later—the stormy sea. His lips were bruised; he began to feel the scratches she'd clawed in his back. And he'd wondered if she was without passion! 'His Majesty,' he said sincerely, 'is a fool.'

'Why?' Dara asked.

'Why do you think?' He stroked her midnight hair. She purred and snuggled against him. But, reluctantly, he left the bed. 'I'd better dress.' He got into his robe as fast as he'd taken it off. Dara slid back under the covers. He opened the doors again, then loosed a great sigh of relief out into the empty hallway. 'We got away with it.'

'So we did.' Dara's eyes shone. She gestured him back to the chair that was his correct place in this room. 'I'm glad we did.'

'Glad we got away with it?' Krispos' shudder was not altogether exaggerated. 'If we hadn't...' He'd already thought once about consequences of not getting away with it. Once was plenty.

Dara shook her head. 'I'm glad we did ... what we did.' She cocked her head and studied him. 'You're different from Anthimos.' Her voice was low; no one coming down the hall could have made out her words.

'Am I?' Krispos said, as neutral a response as he could find. Silence stretched between them. Finally, because she seemed to want him to, he asked, 'How?'

'Everything he does, everything he has me do, is for his pleasure first, mine only afterward, if at all,' Dara said.

That sounded like Anthimos, Krispos thought. What had he said to Dara, that night when he called Krispos while he was making love with her? 'Why did you slow down ? That was nice, what you were doing.'

The Empress went on, 'You, I think, were out to please ... me.' She hesitated, as if she had trouble believing it.

'Well, of course.' Pity filled Krispos. 'The better for you, the better for me, too.'

'Anthimos doesn't think that way,' Dara said. 'I didn't know anyone did. How could I? He's the only man I've ever been in bed with till now. Till now,' she repeated, half gloating over doing once to the Emperor what he'd done so often to her, half marveling at her own daring.

'I ought to go back to my chamber,' Krispos said. Dara nodded. He got up from the chair, went over to the bed, and gave her a quick kiss. She smiled up at him, a lazy, happy smile.

'I may summon you again,' she said when he was almost at the door.

'Your Majesty, I hope you do,' Krispos answered. They both laughed.

The next thing I have to worry about, Krispos thought as he climbed into his own bed, is not giving myself away when I go in there tomorrow morning. He'd had practice in that kind of discretion with Tanilis. He expected he could manage it again. He hoped Dara could, too.

Anthimos noticed nothing out of the ordinary, so they must have done well enough. Krispos looked forward to the next time the little silver bell rang late at night.

Krispos bowed low. 'Excellent sir, I hope you're well.'

'Well enough, esteemed and eminent sir.' Iakovitzes' answering bow was as deep as Krispos'. Afterward, the little noble sank gratefully into a chair. 'Well enough, though this cursed leg will never be quite the same. But that's not what I came here to talk with you about.'

'I wouldn't have thought it was,' Krispos agreed. He served Iakovitzes wine and prawns in a sauce of mustard and ginger. 'What did you come to talk about, then?'

Before he answered, Iakovitzes made short work of the prawns. He wiped his lips and mustache on a square of linen. 'I hear the war with Makuran will begin as soon as the spring rains stop.' He waved a hand at the drops splashing against the windowpane.

'Excellent sir, that's hardly a secret,' Krispos said. 'The Sevastokrator's been mustering soldiers and supplies since last fall.'

'I'm quite aware of it, thank you,' Iakovitzes said, tart as usual. 'What I'm also aware of, and what Petronas seems to be blithely ignoring, is that all the signs point to Malomir coming down out of Kubrat this spring, too. I've been in the Phos-forsaken place enough times over the years to hear what goes on there.'

'Petronas does worry about Kubrat,' Krispos said slowly. 'Truly he does. But he's been set on this war against Makuran for years, you know, and now that he's finally ready to get on with it, he doesn't want to listen to anything that might set it back again. Have you told him what you just told me?'

'Every word and more. It's just as you said—he doesn't want to listen. He thinks the screen on the frontier will hold the wild men, 'if they do attack,' he says.' Iakovitzes raised an eyebrow. 'They will.'

'He raised the tribute we pay Kubrat last year, didn't he?' Krispos said, trying to find a hopeful sign. 'That might keep Malomir quiet.'

'His illustrious Highness may think so. But Malomir's no idiot. If you give him money, he'll take it. And when he decides to fight, he'll bloody well fight. Kubratoi like to fight, you know. You of all people should, eh?' Iakovitzes said. Troubled, Krispos nodded. Iakovitzes went on, 'What we have in the north isn't enough to stop the wild men if they do come down in force, Everything I know makes me think they're going to. That could be most unpleasant.'