Mary Reed - Eight for Eternity

“We have a lot of saints here. Some whole saints, and parts of others.”

His companion’s frown reminded John that, unlike many soldiers John had known, Haik was not a Mithran but a Christian. A heretic, John seemed to recall, a monophysite. Speaking to a friend from his youth had made his tongue as hasty as it had been in those days. But what did John really know about the man who sat across from him now?

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Haik. The city is full of relics.”

Haik waved his knife. “I am not a very religious man. But I’ve seen the spot where Simeon stood many times. It amazed me, to think how a man could spend his life confined to a pillar, exposed to the elements, never lying down.”

“You’re not here on a pilgrimage though. You said you had business.”

“A minor matter.”

“It’s a long journey for a minor matter.”

“Blame that on Justinian’s Prefect of the East, the Cappadocian. He’s been bleeding us dry, and demanding we bleed in gold.”

“I understand John the Cappadocian has been extremely efficient in collecting revenues. If you’re here to petition the emperor about it I doubt you’ll get far. Half of the provinces are already here.” He glanced around at the farmers who had been staring at them. “Not that they’ll get to speak to anyone closer to the throne than the guards at the Chalke.”

Haik shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here. The Cappadocian has destroyed the postal system. They’re using asses instead of horses now. Cheaper. And so much slower I decided I might as well come myself rather than send a letter, particularly when I heard that Belisarius had been recalled. If another earthquake hits Antioch the emperor won’t find out until grass is growing over the ruins.

“He might not find out until too late if the Persians suddenly arrive at the walls, either.”

“Very true, but the Persians aren’t likely to be attacking again soon after the beating Belisarius gave them.”

“There are those who say that it is Belisarius who took most of the beating. That he was lucky to escape back across the Euphrates to Callinicum. They consider him a better politician than soldier.”

Haik knifed another sausage. The blade hit the metal plate with a click. “As a hot-blooded young soldier I might have felt differently, but these days I agree with what Belisarius says, that the best general is one who is able to bring about peace from war. Whoever won the battle, the fact remains that the Persians no longer threaten Roman territory. And now that Chosroes has succeeded Cabades as king and agreed to sign an eternal peace, the emperor must be well pleased.

“It can be difficult to discern what the emperor thinks about anything. You said you don’t know General Belisarius well?”

“Not at all, actually. I have a good reputation in the area. I’m a respected landowner so he was happy to let me accompany him.”

A couple of the provincials who had been staring got up and left, trailing a vague odor of livestock. The Blue who had drunk too much wobbled to his feet at the same time. One of the provincials paused at the bar to hand the tavern keeper two tiny copper nummi. He stared into the age blackened pouch from which the coins had come, grunted in disgust, and tossed it away. Funds had run out as they soon did in the city.

The Blue staggered off toward the door leading to the lavatory. John wondered if he had intended to follow the unsuspecting visitors into the street and rob them. If so, they were fortunate to be destitute.

John sipped his wine and watched Haik devour another sausage. Hadn’t he stopped to eat after arriving in the city? He shifted his weight. The hard bench dug into his thighs. He could practically feel the glass-eyed Porphyrius in the wall mosaic looking over his shoulder. It made him uncomfortable even though he knew it was only his imagination.

“It’s quite a leap, from mercenary to estate owner,” John said. “What made you think of growing pistachios?

Haik swallowed, then grinned. He tapped the half-tooth that left a gap in his smile. “Don’t you remember when I broke this on a shell?”

John chuckled. “Now that you have reminded me. The way you howled, half of us in the camp grabbed our weapons before we realized we weren’t under attack. We thought you’d taken an arrow in a tender spot.”

“I spent five years fighting and that was the worst injury I suffered. The pistachio family has compensated me many times over for my pain. Unfortunately, I will never have my smile back. There are things that can’t be fixed. But tell me, John, how did you come to live at the Great Palace in Constantinople? The last I knew you were going to Egypt.”

A haughty looking youth in a bright green cloak strode in from the street and demanded a jug of wine. He set his drink on a table and headed for the lavatory.

John’s gaze settled on the newcomer with automatic wariness. His thoughts were elsewhere. “Haik, there’s something I should probably tell you. If you stay at the palace, before long, you will hear me referred to by another name.”

“I’m not surprised. There are too many Johns around to keep track. What exactly do-”

“Behind my back I’m called John the Eunuch.”

“How dare they insult you!”

“It’s not an insult.”

Haik simply stared at John. Then seemed to realize he was staring and looked away. “My old friend, I’m sorry.”

“It happened a long time ago. I was captured by some of those Persians we are at peace with now.”

Haik began to speak. An enraged shout cut him short. The Blue they had seen seated at a table earlier stumbled backwards out of the lavatory followed by the Green who had recently come in. Vomit stains down the front of the Blue’s tunic revealed the reason for his lengthy stay.

“You set them on my brother, didn’t you?” bellowed the Green. “Three against one, and all older too. That’s what a Blue considers a fair fight!”

The Green swung his sword and caught the Blue on the side of the head.

No, John realized. It wasn’t a sword but the sponge on a stick that lavatory patrons used to clean themselves when they visited the room for a major need.

The noisome weapon did no damage to the Blue but sent a spray of filth over John’s head, spattering the famous charioteer in the mosaic.

The tavern keeper came out from behind the counter as the Green struck again. The Green strode forward. His foot hit some of the filth sprayed by his weapon. He slipped, fell and rolled into John’s legs. The Green lay there senseless.

The reeling Blue stumbled backwards, placed his hand on the table in front of Haik, balancing himself as he pulled a long blade from his belt.

He looked down at the prostrate Green, started to lift the blade, then screamed. He lurched awkwardly to the side and shrieked again. The blade fell from his hand. The Blue looked around dumbly, confused, flecks of vomit dripping down his chin.

John saw what it was. Haik’s dinner knife protruded from the back of the young man’s hand, pinning it to the table.

The tavern keeper loomed over them. He brandished an enormous meat cleaver. “Sirs, please, please accept my apologies. And accept your refreshment for free. And please, come back tomorrow. I shall be happy to serve you my best wine, for free. And sausages. One can hardly enjoy a meal under such disgraceful circumstances.”

The man’s bald pate had turned as red as his big hands. He looked as if he’d be wringing his hands if it weren’t for the heavy cleaver he carried.

Haik yanked the knife out of the Blue’s hand. The ruffian squealed like a dying rat and crumpled onto the straw-covered floor in a faint.

He glanced down at the two unconscious faction members and then at John. “There’s a Green family in the city who owes you more than they realize, my friend.” He set the knife beside his plate, wiped his fingers on his cloak, and picked up the remaining sausage. “Excellent sausage. I will be sure to recommend your establishment to all my friends at the palace,” he told the tavern keeper.