Harry Turtledove - Krispos Rising

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."

"Yes." Krispos thought of his nieces carried off into captivity as he had been—if they were lucky. He thought of what could happen to them if they were unlucky ... and to his sister, and to everyone in his old village, and to countless people he'd never heard of. "How can we get Petronas to hold up again and reinforce the north?"

" I can't. The good god knows I've tried. But you, esteemed and eminent sir, you have the ear of his Majesty. And if the Avtokrator gives an order, not even the Sevastokrator may disobey." Iakovitzes grinned craftily. "And since, by an accident of fate and former status about which I would not presume to bore you by reminding you of it, I enjoy the good fortune of your acquaintance ..."

Krispos grinned back. "You thought you'd take advantage of it."

"Of course I did. That's what having friends in high places is for, after all."

"I'll see what I can do," Krispos promised.

"Good," Iakovitzes said. "I'd kiss you to show how pleased I am, but you'd probably go and use that notorious influence of yours to get me sent to the mines if I tried, so I'll just take my leave instead."

"You're incorrigible."

"By the good god, Krispos, I certainly hope so."

Krispos was laughing as he escorted his one-time master from the imperial residence. The laughter faded when Iakovitzes was no longer there to see. Apprehension replaced it. If he tried to stop the war with Makuran, Petronas would not be pleased with him. And no matter how much influence he had with the Emperor, the Sevastokrator was far more powerful than he, and he knew it.

"Your Imperial Highness," Krispos murmured, eyes on the ground as he went to one knee before Petronas.

The Sevastokrator frowned. "What's all this in aid of, Krispos? You haven't needed to be so formal with me for a long time, and you know it. That's all a waste of time, anyhow, and I have no time to waste right now, not if I'm going west once the rains ease up. So say what you have to say and have done."

"Yes, illustrious Highness," Krispos said. Petronas' frown deepened. Krispos took a deep breath before he went on, "Illustrious Highness, when you were gracious enough to help me become vestiarios, I promised I'd speak to you first over any doubts I had about what you were doing. I'm here today to keep that promise."

"Are you indeed?" Had Petronas been a lion, his tail would have lashed back and forth. "Very well, esteemed and eminent sir, you have my attention. Continue, by all means." Now he, too, was formal; dangerously so.

"Illustrious Highness, is it truly wise to use all the Empire's forces in your war against Makuran? Are you sure you've left behind enough to keep the northern frontier safe?" He explained Iakovitzes' concerns about what Malomir was going to do.

"I've heard this myself," Petronas said, when he was done. "It does not concern me."

"I think it should, though, your Imperial Highness," Krispos said when he was done. "Iakovitzes has had dealings with the Kubratoi for twenty years or so now. If anyone can divine what they plan, he's the man. And if he says they're likely to attack-would you risk the north for the sake of the west?"

"Given the choice, yes," Petronas said: "The westlands are richer and broader in extent than the country between here and the Kubrati border. But I say to you what I said to Iakovitzes—the choice does not arise. Malomir is being paid well to leave us at peace, and the border is not altogether denuded, as you seem to believe."

Krispos thought of the thousands of soldiers who funneled through Videssos the city on their way west. Those were the men whose presence made the Kubratoi stay in their own domain. Surely Malomir could not fail to notice they were gone.

When he said as much, Petronas answered, "You let that be my worry. I say to you that the Kubratoi will not attack. And if I am wrong and they do harass us, their bands will not be able to penetrate far past the frontier."

"I am reassured to hear you say it, illustrious Highness, but suppose you are mistaken?" Krispos persisted. "Could you stop fighting Makuran and send soldiers back to the north? That might not be easy."