Byzantium

73

May the peace of Allah attend you all your days, Wise Basileus," said Amir Sadiq. "Truth is more often bitter than sweet, yet it strengthens all who partake. Taste then, if you will, that your judgement may be seasoned with discernment."

Thus spoke the amir, relating all that had happened: the embassy to Trebizond and the long season of negotiation leading to the initial peace agreement; the hateful tribulations that followed-including the brutal massacre on the Sebastea road, the murder of the governor, and the enslavement of the survivors in the mines.

Leo listened, sitting not on his golden throne, but on a simple camp chair of the kind military commanders often employed. The image of a general ordering battle was furthered by the double rank of Farghanese bodyguards ranged behind him. The imperial frown had returned as Leo contemplated the story Sadiq unfolded before him.

When at last the amir finished, he said, "The accord which we offer has been secured at a fearful price. Few were brave, fewer still knew the reason for their torment, but such sacrifice as theirs should not be dishonoured by those who wield power and authority. The Sarazens stand ready to renew the treaty that has been so dearly purchased."

Leo, a thoughtful expression on his long face, nodded. "Peace between our peoples is a noble-and it must be said, costly-ambition, Lord Sadiq. With your approval, we will cause the treaty to be rewritten. Naturally, this will require your close participation."

"The successful completion of the peace treaty is of foremost importance," Sadiq said. "To this end, I have come to Constantinople, and to this end, I place myself at your service."

Basileus Leo next turned his attention to the Danes. Accordingly, Jarl Harald was summoned, and took his place before the emperor. He motioned for me to join him, which I did.

"Sovereign Lord," I said, "with permission, I will translate the king's words for your majesty's benefit."

Inclining his head in assent, the emperor said, "We give you leave to speak."

I gave a slight nod to Harald, who immediately proceeded to lay his claims before the emperor. "Most Noble Emperor," he said, his voice a low thunder in the great room, "I am Harald Bull-Roar, Jarl of the Danes of Skania, and servant of the Emperor Basil, who took me into his service to provide for the protection of his ships. This I have done with unrivalled skill and courage, to the cost of one ship and all save sixty brave men."

"You will forgive us, Lord Harald," replied Leo when I had relayed the king's words, "if we profess no knowledge of this agreement. Be that as it may, I am aware that my predecessor often pursued such arrangements. What were you to be paid for these services?"

"Great Leader," answered Harald, speaking through me, "the agreed recompense was one thousand nomismi for the king and his ships and eight denarii for each man, each month, to be paid upon completion of duties in Trebizond and safe return to Constantinople."

Harald, having thought of something to add, nudged me and spoke again. "Basileus, Jarl Harald respectfully requests the cost of one fine ship and the lives of one hundred and twelve loyal men to be taken into account." Harald thought of yet one more circumstance to add: "Not forgetting the hardships of slavery endured by the king and his men during the time of their service to the emperor."

The emperor's frown had deepened on his narrow face. He considered his answer before making his reply, chin on fist, regarding the hulking Danes all the while. This gave me good opportunity to observe the emperor; I was still undecided how much of Nikos's schemes he was party to. I think that some small part of me yet wanted to believe the best, so I watched him for any hopeful sign.

"Lord Harald," began Leo in his deep voice, "we are mindful of the enormous sacrifices you and your men have made on behalf of the empire. We are aware that provision is often allowed for the widows of soldiers killed in imperial service. Therefore, we propose to extend this compensation to you, in addition to a remittance for your ship. The logothete will call upon you tomorrow to agree on the amounts and arrange payment. We trust you will find this acceptable?"

"Great Sovereign," replied Harald, when I had translated the emperor's offer, "insofar as mere treasure can ever replace men of courage in the service of their lord and the hearts of their kinfolk, I deem your majesty's offer acceptable, and will receive your servant with all courtesy."

The magister officiorum, standing at the emperor's right hand, duly recorded the agreement on his wax tablet. When he finished, Emperor Leo stood and declared the proceedings concluded. I could not help but notice that nothing further had been mentioned of Nikos. While Amir Sadiq and Harald may have been content to allow the matter to end, I was not; I reckoned the monks of Kells and Hy still had a claim to be settled.

Even as the emperor rose to dismiss the assembly, I made bold to speak. "Lord and emperor," I said, stepping before him, "there is yet a debt to be reconciled."

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder to see who had called him. "Yes? And what is that?"

Indicating Brynach, Dugal, and Ddewi, standing a little apart from the Danes, I said, "My brother monks have also suffered much at the hands of those to whom authority had been given. They came on pilgrimage to make entreaty before the emperor. Thirteen left Eire, and only those survive who stand before you now."

The emperor appeared distracted. He glanced at the monks, and seemed inclined to sit down again, but thought better of it and remained standing. "We are sympathetic to your plight," he intoned, "and we are not unmoved by it. Be that as it may, we are persuaded that pilgrimage is wont to be a perilous undertaking, and any that would be a pilgrim must count the cost.

"Therefore, we can but share your sorrow at the loss of your brothers, and offer our heartfelt condolences."

With that, Leo turned away again. Brynach and the others looked on in startled confusion at the emperor's abrupt rejection. Seeing that the emperor meant to terminate the audience anyway, I determined there was nothing to be lost by pushing the matter further.

"With all respect, lord and basileus," I remarked, speaking up once more, "it was not the natural predation of seawaves or the dangers of the trail that led these holy men to their deaths, but the wanton actions of a depraved and ambitious man who traded on the authority granted him by the throne you now possess."

"That man," replied Leo quickly, "as we have been so pithily reminded, has been summoned to the Eternal Judgement Seat to answer for his crimes, which, we have no doubt, were deserving of the punishment exacted. We are persuaded that the manner of his death, while unlawful, has secured a rough equity. Therefore, we are content to leave affairs as they stand." He regarded me sternly. "If you are wise, you will follow our example."

Returning his stern gaze, I replied, "Wise Lord, I pray you do not mistake me. These men ask no compensation for their loss, but will bear it for the sake of the petition that compelled them to seek audience with the Lord and Emperor, Elect of Christ, God's Vice-Regent on Earth. That petition remains to be heard."

"If that is so," replied Leo curtly, "it must be placed before us through the organs of state which exist for such purposes. We will, of course, consider it in due course."

The emperor's manner baffled and provoked me; it seemed extraordinary, especially in light of his willingness to dispose of the other claims so efficiently. Harald's settlement would cost the imperial treasury dearly, but the monks were not asking for so much as a single denarius. Why, then did he resist so?

It occurred to me then that of the three debts presented to him, this was the one for which he could make no restitution. The Arabs would be happy to see the treaty restored, and the Danes could be bought off with silver-but the monks would only be satisfied with justice, and Leo knew he could not offer that.

Sure, I had my answer. Even so, I resolved to hear the truth from his own mouth.

"Sovereign Lord," I said, fearless now, having neither self-respect nor honour to lose, "before leaving for Trebizond, the basileus took me into his employ also-to be, he said, his eyes and ears in that foreign place, and to bring him word of all that happened there. In short, I was to be his spy."

Leo, wanting to leave, regarded me distractedly. "As the basileus is dead, and the peace treaty is to be rewritten, we can see no value in resuming an occupation whose purpose has ceased."

"With all respect," I replied quickly, "I have information regarding certain matters which would reward careful consideration."

This intrigued Leo, I could see; he was curious to learn what I knew, but could not allow anyone else to hear. He made up his mind at once; declaring the audience ended, he ordered his visitors to wait in the outer hall, and his bodyguard to remove themselves a discreet distance so that we might talk together without being overheard.

"We find you an obdurate emissary," he said, resuming his seat. "What is your purpose in pursuing these matters?"

"Lord and emperor," I answered, "in light of the recent tragedy which has overtaken the empire, I could in no wise remain easy in my mind if I did not tell you that Basil's suspicions regarding betrayal were not unfounded."

"The former emperor was a very suspicious and fearful man," Leo allowed, and I noted that he never referred to Basil as his father. "Which of his many fears did he confide to you?"

"That men were plotting to kill him," I answered. It was not true, of course; but in light of Basil's murder, he might have been.

"And were they?" inquired Leo. The question was asked casually, but the keenness with which he regarded me gave me to know that I had pricked his interest.

"Yes, lord," I answered bluntly. "The conspiracy was discovered by Exarch Honorius, for which knowledge the governor was also murdered. I carry his sealed letter," I touched the parchment beneath my siarc, "which testifies to this fact, and was meant to serve as a warning to the emperor. Unfortunately, we arrived in Constantinople too late to prevent the consummation of the hateful act."

"The emperor died in an accident," Leo replied coolly. "I am told he rode too far ahead of the hunt-always an ill-advised thing to do in any circumstance-and it ended in the disaster for which the empire is still in mourning."

I had hoped he would be curious to know what the letter contained, but Emperor Leo was too canny to be caught like that. Still, I had but one more chance and nothing to lose, so I took it: "Eparch Nikos left no doubt about the veracity of these reports involving wild stags and runaway horses."

Leo folded one hand into the other and looked at me over the fist. "The eparch," he said slowly, "may have wished to create suspicions of his own, for purposes of his own. While his crimes, as you suggest, may once have demanded answers, he is now beyond questioning. We must be satisfied with the end which Heaven, in its infinite wisdom, has ordained."

That was all he said, and I understood that it was over at last. Not only had I failed to gain even so much as a hint of wrongdoing, much less a confession, Leo would simply lay all blame for every wrong on Nikos' head. I had provided him with the perfect scapegoat; dead, Nikos provided exoneration and absolution. Sick at heart, I stood looking on in despair.

Leo shifted, as if he would leave, but something held him. Regarding me with a sour expression, he said, "As you have not answered, we will ask you once again: what is it that you want?"

"Sovereign lord," I replied, almost desperately, "I came to Byzantium a monk with nothing save the faith that sustained me. Now even that poor possession has been taken from me. I have seen the innocent slaughtered in their hundreds-men, women, and children whose only wrong-doing was to cross Nikos's path. I saw the blessed Bishop Cadoc torn apart by horses and his body hacked to pieces. I myself have endured slavery and torture, but that was nothing beside the dissolution of my faith."

I paused, swallowing hard, knowing that the next words I spoke might well bring about the fulfillment of my darkling dream, my death in Byzantium. I stumbled on, heedless of consequences. "I came here today seeking justice for those who died; yes, and revenge for myself, I will not deny it. When I learned there could be no justice, I undertook revenge lest that, too, escape me."

Leo accepted this without remark, and without the slightest indication of concern or anger or even surprise. So, I pushed ahead.

"Before he died, Nikos gave me to know that he killed Basil, and that the one who now wears the crown endorsed his crimes and conspired with him. You have asked what I want, and it is this: was he speaking the truth?"

Leo sat for a long moment, gazing at me with his dark, deep-set eyes as if at a problem that resisted every solution. Drawing himself up, he spoke at last. "We see that you have endeavoured good on behalf of the imperial throne," he told me, "and this at fearful expense to yourself. Would that you had asked us to restore your silver; we would have given it you a thousand times over. But you desire a thing even the basileus cannot bestow: the renewing of your faith." An expression of regret softened his features. "I am sorry," he said, one man speaking to another.

He rose from his chair, slowly unfolding his long form to stand tall and slender before me-so unlike Basil in every way. "Truly, I am sorry," he said again.

I made no move, nor spoke any word. There was nothing more to say. Shorn of my last hope, bereft of all belief, I simply gazed back at him, a numb, hollow creature of wood and bone.

Tall and regal, Leo moved away, but then turned after only a few paces. "If Eparch Nikos overreached himself in pursuit of his ambitions," he said, voicing what had already become the official explanation for all wrongdoing, "we see that his sins have borne their bitter fruit. It may not be to your liking, but we hold that justice is satisfied."

He hesitated, his lips pressed into a hard line as he regarded me almost angrily. I have seen such expressions before, usually when a person is warring within himself. With Leo, the battle was swiftly over.

"You ask for the truth," he said, his voice low to a whisper, "perhaps you will recognize it when we tell you this: Nikos did not kill my father."

Basileus Leo motioned one of the guards to come forward. The soldier took my arm and, under the gaze of the emperor, I was led from the room. But upon reaching the huge door, I glanced back and he was gone.

Yes, I thought bitterly, I could yet recognize the truth when I heard it.

Brynach was waiting for me as I stepped from the room. The Danes, I could see, were huddled together across the hall, deep in discussion-about what they would do with their increased wealth, I suppose. Sadiq and Faysal were head-to-head, speaking together in low tones; Kazimain stood near, looking lost and forlorn.

"The emperor wished to speak to you," Brynach suggested hopefully.

"He did," I allowed, glancing to the place where Nikos had fallen. The body was gone and three young servants were scattering wood dust over the floor to draw up the blood; soon that would be gone, too, leaving, perhaps, only a slight ruddy tint to the smooth stone to mark what had happened in this room. Dugal and Ddewi stood nearby watching the cleaners, and I motioned them to join us.

"Tell us, brother, what did he say to you?" Brynach asked, eager for a word that would redeem the pilgrimage.

"He said justice was served," I told him scornfully. "But there is no justice in this place; there is only debt and the collection of debts."

"Did you tell him about the book?" wondered Ddewi. "Did you tell him we brought a gift for the imperial library?" He put his hand on the leather bag he carried beneath his siarc. The simple action cut me to the bone. He had borne this burden of love without complaint, and would go on bearing it.

"Ddewi," I said, "the emperor is not worthy of our gift. Men of faith gave their lives for its safe-keeping, and I would not demean their sacrifice."

Ddewi appeared disappointed. "Then what are we to do with it?"

"Carry it back with you," I told him. "Take it home, Ddewi, where it will be a treasure of inspiration to all who see it."

"What of our petition?" Brynach, ever hopeful, could not help himself. "Did you tell him why we came?"

"No, Bryn, I did not," I replied bluntly.

The Briton's face fell. "Why?" he asked, his eyes searching me for an answer. "It was our last chance."

"It was no chance at all," I said. "Shake the dust of this place from your feet, leave and never look back. I tell you the truth: make your peace with Rome, there is no protection here."

We left the palace then, crossing the reception hall to the outer doors. Dugal, who had remained silent before, fell into step behind me. "Did Leo own the deed?" he asked.

"He told me that Nikos did not kill his father."

"Sure, that was a lie, Aidan."

"No, Dugal," I replied from my wooden heart, "that, at least, was the truth."

The doors opened and we stepped out into the light of a day grown unimaginably bright.