THE SILK TREE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was a long walk back but, in a whirl of elation and trepidation, Nicander barely noticed it.

As long as they kept their heads all would be well: they would be confirming what was generally believed about silk and its growing. Their claim could not be disputed – there would be no one from ‘Artaxium Felix’ to cause them trouble, for it didn’t exist, and there were none who had travelled to Serica or knew enough about it to confound their story. Above all, the stakes were so staggering that any hearing of it would want to believe.

Aware of tramping feet behind, he turned. It was soldiers – praetorian guards under the command of the Prefect of the city and responsible for good order, a not unusual sight on The Mese.

Marching stolidly, they were in two columns led by a centurion. Nicander and Marius stepped aside to let them by.

But the columns divided, surrounding them. The centurion bawled, ‘Take ’em!’

Brawny arms seized Nicander. He did not resist, noting in shame that it took four to subdue Marius.

It soon became apparent that they were being taken to the Praetorium, the headquarters of the Prefect himself. The place of secrets and terror.

What had they done? It couldn’t be his library visit, they had neither his name nor where he lived. And he’d done nothing wrong – yet – and as far as he knew was unknown to the authorities. This was probably a case of mistaken identity.

At the reception desk his protesting was ignored and the pair found themselves thrown into a prison cell. Ragged moaning punctuated with screams sounded down the passage as the hours passed.

Then suddenly there was the clash of doors and four guards appeared. ‘Out! March!’

They wound up a worn staircase to a richly appointed office.

A thin, ascetic-looking man with an expression of disdain rose from a desk. He was in flowing white, edged with scarlet, the rich embroidery of a silk tablion proclaiming high rank.

‘I am Peter Barsymes, Count of the Sacred Largesse. Be aware my time is limited and I will not be trifled with.’

Nicander gave a start. This was the one he had been warned about.

‘You were seen at the villa of the disgraced John the Cappadocian. Twice. Do not attempt to deny it, I have competent enough informers. Once might be accounted coincidence, but two times… this suggests an assignation. What were you doing there – answer!’

‘Sir, we are castaways. We were rescued and returned to our land but we have information of such importance that it is only for the ear of Emperor Justinian himself. We were given the name of this gentleman as being one who could arrange a meeting.’

‘Convince me. If not, I swear your end will not be pleasant!’

It all now sounded so unbelievable but Nicander persevered with the story of a remote desert kingdom, their honest seeking after truth.

‘And this information for the ears of the Emperor only,’ Barsymes snapped. ‘You will tell me, that I may be judge of its value.’

‘Oh, this is impossible, sir! We have sworn-’

‘Do you realise that I am at the right hand of Justinian always? There are no secrets between us, you may safely disclose your information to me.’

‘Sir, we cannot! It is-’

‘Before you go before the Emperor I must be sure his time is not wasted on idle talk. Tell me!’

‘Very well, sir. But I crave that the room be empty of all but yourself, what I have to say being of such gravity and… and of interest to those of a sinful cupidity.’

Barsymes’s eyes gleamed. ‘Get out! All of you! Guards, wait outside. Now, speak!’

One thing was certain: John the Cappadocian was out of the game, their pathway to Justinian stopped.

But just possibly this power behind the throne might restore it!

Nicander’s voice fell to a whisper as he outlined their story and the plan that the seeds of the tree be acquired for the Empire.

‘Do you… have you any idea what you’re saying? This is incredible!’

‘But only what is due to our illustrious emperor,’ Nicander murmured. ‘We ask merely that we might seek assistance from him for an expedition to Serica.’

Barsymes gave an oily smile. ‘A fine and worthy object! However, I doubt the Emperor need be troubled. I have it in mind to finance an expedition myself.’

‘Sir, you’ll dispatch your own men?’

‘You’ve suffered much, and are not to be imposed upon again. If you’ll leave me the details I’ll ensure you’re both handsomely rewarded.’

Yes, in a sack at the bottom of the Bosphorus!

Nicander thought furiously. ‘I’m devastated to be the one to bring objections, but if it’s others who venture forth, there will be a difficulty.’

‘Oh?’

‘The king of Serica decrees that none but we two named in the document we have shall be made welcome in his country.’

‘I see.’

‘It is a long and dangerous road to Sinae, sir. On the outward journey there will be need for much expense, many bribes, unforeseen costs.’

‘You’ll not want for outlay – be assured I have resources I may count upon.’

‘The return journey will be much easier,’ Nicander stammered. ‘A few dozen seeds is a paltry cargo. Sir, as yours is the investment, the seeds are your property. Have you given thought to their cultivation? They require particular soil and much labour in the harvesting, and will-’

‘Thank you, Brother. We’ll attend to that, I promise you. Now, you see to finalising your plans, I’ll take care of the funding, and we’ll meet again soon.’

He went to the door and barked for the guards. ‘These two good men are my friends and not to be vexed with petty attentions when next they visit.’

‘We’ve done it, Marius! In just a few weeks-’

‘We’ve done it, right enough. The bastard took the bait, but when he starts asking questions among his poncey friends he’s going to wake up and we’ll be nailed to the wall!’

‘What questions? Nobody knows us! That’s the great thing about it all. John the Cappadocian is going to deny he’s anything to do with us, and who’s to say we’re not who we claim to be?’

‘You’re so bloody confident – I’m not! This is way over our heads, out of our league as much as a worm to an eagle. I’ve never had a word from a nob in all my life, now in a couple of days I’ve been pawed over by two! I don’t like it, and I want to get out before it’s too late, Nico!’

‘Take it easy, Marius. Think about it – Barsymes stumbles on two innocent holy men with the secret to wealth beyond his wildest dreams. All they ask for is to be funded to get it. No big risk to him, that’s our worry, he just sits back and waits for the gold to shower down. All we have to do is come up with some sort of believable plan and sail off with the chest of riches and vanish. Can’t be much simpler than that!’

‘If he smells a rat-’

‘How can he? I keep telling you, nobody knows either about us or Serica! And the thing I particularly like…’

‘What?’

‘Barsymes insists we’re on a private venture – the palace is not involved any more and it’s in his selfish interest to keep very quiet about it. So for us it means no need to get worked up about seeing the Emperor, or even to go into the Grand Palace which, I tell you now, gives me the shakes just to look at it! We’ve the chance to be not just comfortable, but rich – wealthy! And we’re only talking a few weeks away! Just play your part – and we’re there!’

A grin eventually surfaced. ‘What the fuck! Let’s go for it.’

Nicander went over to the corner and found their pot. He emptied it on the table, a solidus here and there but mostly the worn dark bronze of a follis. With a practised eye he assessed their pile and divided it into two. ‘There’s enough here to see us over the next few weeks – and some for tonight! I say we go out and celebrate. Soon we’ll have more than ever we could jump over!’