Richard Blake - The Curse of Babylon

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.