The Curse of Babylon (17 page)

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Authors: Richard Blake

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: The Curse of Babylon
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I stared at the crescent moon until the urge to burst out laughing had passed. ‘
She’s a nuisance for other reasons
,’ Simon had said. What could that have been if it wasn’t connected in some way with Eunapius?

I shivered slightly after so long without movement. I reached up to brush a hand over very hard nipples. I noted the immediate response in my groin. But this was something I must and could control. ‘I won’t rule Nicetas out,’ I said cautiously. ‘But I can’t see him as a traitor. Besides, all that’s happened today needed fast communications, not to mention a capacity for decision that I haven’t seen in Nicetas or any of his creatures.’

‘And where do I stand in this?’ she asked as if she hadn’t heard me. Once more, her voice had taken on a wondering, almost a dreamy tone.

I looked at her. She had the pale glow of the city walls behind her and her face was in comparative darkness. The moment for speaking had passed beyond recall. ‘Let’s get inside the walls,’ I said. I turned and climbed down from this boulder on to another. I helped her down beside me and looked over at the walls. I’d seen the white dust of a path. If we could get across an expanse of smaller stones, and then a mass of brambles without cutting ourselves, we might soon be able to present ourselves in reasonably good order before the Golden Gate.

Chapter 17

 

‘You have seen naked men before?’ I asked impatiently. Now we’d rounded the corner where land and sea walls met, we were back in a chill wind.

The guard’s mouth twitched slightly. ‘Never a naked Lord Treasurer, Sir,’ he said. I scowled. But he’d had his fun. His face vanished from the inspection window ten feet above. A moment later, I heard the scrape of bolts in the tiny door beside the main gate. A few moments more and I was sitting with Antonia in what seemed an astonishingly warm room, a cup of wine in my hand.

The guard finished shaking the dust from two dark cloaks he’d found in a cupboard. ‘It’s a proper relief to see you, My Lord,’ he said. ‘We’d been fearing the worst ever since your clothes was found close by them dead bodies. There’s talk of sending a fast galley off to tell the Emperor.’

‘Then we can be glad his communion with the monks of Saint Vesalius will not now be disturbed,’ I said. The last thing I fancied was a summons along the straits to Cyzicus, or – much worse – a sudden return by Heraclius. Whatever else he did, he’d drag me into a church and keep me there praying and fasting till I wished I was still with Shahin.

The guard sat down before me. He dropped his voice. ‘What
was
you doing out there, if you don’t mind my asking?’ He looked from the corner of his eyes at Antonia, who’d wrapped herself in one of the cloaks and was looking ready to fall asleep. ‘She’s a nice bit of tail, Sir,’ he whispered. ‘But you can’t have been fucking her all afternoon and evening. And what about all them bodies? Most of them was shot with arrows. Also, didn’t I see you go out through my gate with a young man?’

I finished my wine and pushed the cup forward for a refill. I’d made my promise to Antonia. Now was the time to keep it. ‘When you send in your report,’ I said, ‘I’d like it to say that I turned up alone at your gate and fully clothed.’ The guard frowned. I looked about the room. ‘There’s been much speculation about the design on the back of the new silver coins. I’m sure you’d like to be among the first to see the design for yourself – shall we say enough copies to fill that leather bag over there?’ The man pursed his lips. Then he nodded. I smiled wearily at him. ‘I’m glad that was so quickly arranged,’ I said. ‘Now, if you can find two suits of plain clothes for the pair of us, we’ll be on our way.’

The guard shook his head. ‘Can’t do that, Sir. It’s quiet enough out here. But the mob’s taken over all the central streets and is celebrating your death. You’ll have to wait while I send off for an armoured chair to get you home.’

As if on cue, I heard a distant sound of cheering. It came from deep within the City, and reminded me of the solid roar a winning charioteer gets in the Circus.

 

You never realise the full convenience of a secret entrance to your palace until you need to make a secret entrance. A hundred feet each side of the main entrance, the Triumphal Way was packed with the City trash, dancing round bonfires, or just cheering themselves hoarse at their apparent liberation from my spending cuts. But I was snug inside the thick walls of my palace before most of the household could know that I was alive, let alone insist on embracing me, one after the other.

‘I didn’t believe any harm had been allowed to come to you,’ Theodore said, once he’d got over the shock of seeing me in the chapel. It was a double shock, I might say – seeing me,
and
in the chapel. Pale and sad, his face wavered in the light of many candles. ‘I prayed before the icon of Saint George. It has never let me down.’ He got off his knees and embraced me. I can’t say our relationship had ever been affectionate. It hadn’t been that sort of adoption. Still, I liked to think there was a certain regard between us. I kissed his greasy forehead, noting how he’d shot up in the past few months. If he didn’t come up to my chest, he was no longer short for thirteen.

I looked about the unfamiliar room. With Martin away, the boy must be lonely in here. Oh, but silly me – you’re never alone in a House of God! ‘Where is Maximin?’ I asked.

‘I had him put to bed at the usual time, My Lord,’ Theodore answered. ‘I told the nursemaids to say nothing without my permission.’ I nodded. Looking at his sallow face and lack of bodily shape, no one could imagine Theodore was other than adopted. But, as well as much holiness, he had a frequently sound judgement. It compensated for the holiness. It even compensated for his lack of attention to personal hygiene and his absolute refusal to contemplate stripping for daily exercise in the gymnasium.

I looked again about the chapel. No wonder I’d nearly passed out on entering. The boy had five sticks of incense on the go. Should I tell him this stuff cost more than its weight in gold? ‘Where is Father Macarius?’ I asked instead. Since I’d been nagged into hiring a chaplain, I could go through the motions of annoyance that he wasn’t beside Theodore to pray for my safety.

‘He’s giving comfort to the eunuch who was struck dumb this morning,’ Theodore said. He saw the blank look on my face. ‘It was after you went out,’ he explained. ‘The older eunuch – the one with the fine voice – died suddenly of a bloody flux while easing himself in the latrine. His assistant fell down shortly after, and may not see the morning.’

That was a shame and an oddity. I would have asked more, but I noticed the boy was now looking past me. ‘Ah, Theodore,’ I said, turning to wave Antonia forward, ‘this is . . .’

‘I am Antony,’ she said, stepping forward with outstretched hand. ‘Your father saved me from the bandits. I am eternally grateful.’ She pulled her military cloak into place and tried for a manly smile. I pulled a disapproving face at her. Keeping her any longer than tonight in male clothing hadn’t been on my list of things to do. If she thought she could run a petitioning business from the Lord Alaric’s palace, she could think again. But she ignored me. ‘Your father is the bravest man I’ve ever met,’ she added. ‘You must be terribly proud of him.’

‘Our guest will be staying with us till further notice,’ I sighed. This wasn’t the time or place for complications.

Oh, bugger!
I’d no sooner let this new moment for truth go past, when I turned back to Theodore and saw how red his face had gone. The redness was followed by a look of exalted longing. ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Antony,’ he croaked. He put out a shaking hand and bit his lip hard as she took it. He looked down at the mosaic floor. ‘Shall I arrange a temporary bed?’ he whispered. ‘Or has Samo already been informed?’

I glared again at Antonia. I was already feeling nostalgic for a household in which the only females allowed were there to cook and clean and generally do as I told them. I’d put off one complication and raised another. I could still have taken charge and made a joke of telling Theodore about our little deception. But his face had settled into the look of rapturous agony you see described in Sappho and Catullus. Theodore
had
been growing up, I could see. It was time for me to attend to the next stage in his education. But that wouldn’t begin with a brutal and public disabusing.

‘Samo will attend to everything,’ I said. I pretended to misunderstand Theodore’s look and smiled. ‘Now, do go down to the kitchens and find Samo,’ I said. ‘I sent him there to arrange celebrations for the household. It may be worth reminding him of the need to keep every man sober who can handle arms. If word goes round that I’m alive, the mob may take a battering ram to the main gate. I’m sure you remember how much it cost to replace the bronze facings there after the last riot.’

 

‘You may leave us,’ I said in Lombardic. ‘Ask Samo to attend on me alone at dawn.’ The young slave bowed and, having dimmed the lamps, padded out. I shut the door behind him and almost fell out of my clothes.

I sat down and watched Antonia tug at the unfamiliar laces of her own clothes. She’d seen the massive luxury of my palace and my own absolute mastery within it. It seemed no more to throw her than the sight of my naked body had earlier in the day. ‘What is to be my status here?’ she asked in a tired but businesslike tone.

‘My steward has his orders,’ I said, avoiding the main question. She frowned slightly, before coming forward to let me help her from her under tunic. Naked, she sat down beside me. She put up a hand to arrange hair that she realised too late was no longer there. She frowned again and seemed about to ask another pointed question. Beyond a certain level, the real purpose of luxury is to intimidate. I couldn’t doubt it had failed with Antonia.

I thought whether I should put my arm about her. I decided against. ‘Until I can puzzle out today’s events,’ I explained, ‘I do think you’ll be safest inside these walls. Your own living and sleeping quarters will be ready by morning. You can send off to your lodgings for anything you want here with you.’

She lay back on the bed and looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. ‘There’s nothing I particularly want,’ she said. ‘I’d like to send some messages. But I’m sure you’ll urge me against that.’ She pulled at the silk covers. ‘Can I take it that the slaves you assign me aren’t the talkative sort?’

I got into the bed with her and moved a few inches towards her. ‘This is a household of many secrets and of many corresponding layers,’ I said. ‘Until further notice, most of the slaves will know you as Antony. Those who attend on you as Antonia will say nothing.’ I snuggled closer and wondered if sex was out of the question. Even as I reached for her naked body, though, she was asleep. I moved towards her and took her in my arms. Without any sense of change, fierce and joyous lust had given way to an odd happiness. I buried my face in the salty taste of her hair. Before I could fall to wondering about all that had happend, I was myself asleep.

 

Bathed in sweat, heart still pounding from the horror of my dream, I woke in a completely dark silence that suggested the dawn couldn’t be far away. I was still holding Antonia. She’d moved in her sleep and her own arms were tight about my chest. I shut my eyes and willed myself to sleep. But, though I’d had one of those nightmares where the details fade like the morning frost in Kent, enough sense remained of its overpowering fear and helplessness to keep me awake.

I untangled myself from Antonia and went over to wash myself in scented water. I caught a flicker of light from the balcony window. I slipped through the curtains and pulled the glazed door open. I went out into the renewed chill of night and looked down over the Triumphal Way. No longer celebrating, the mob was still far below, still blocking the entire width of the street before my ceremonial entrance. Resembling nothing so much in size and shape as animal droppings, I could see the dark bodies, stretched out and sleeping beside the dying bonfires. In the morning, these parodies of the human form would shamble off to whatever they did by day – or, if they didn’t wake in time, would be flogged about their business by the Prefect’s deputy. Shortly after, I’d have it formally announced that I was alive. What details my announcement would carry I hadn’t yet decided. There was no doubt, however, it would set off a chorus of lamentation in every district where the inhabitants didn’t work for their daily bread.

I leaned on the pitted marble and looked across the dark city to where it merged into the greater darkness of the sea. The street lighting had long since been left to burn itself out. But, here and there, in high towers or in the windows of palaces as immense as my own, there were the bright points that indicated some late activity. I breathed in and smiled. Somewhere out to sea, Shahin might by now have drunk himself to sleep. No doubt, he’d remit all the floggings and impalings he’d promised his crew in return for their silence over his failed capture of the Great King’s only successful enemy. I thought about Simon. I had told myself to keep it all out of mind till morning. But, as I stood up and walked back inside, I could feel a connecting thread begin to run itself through some of the facts of the past day. I listened to the slow and regular breathing that came from my bed. Thinking about anything at all should be left to the morning.

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