Richard Blake - The Curse of Babylon

‘Is that you, Shahin?’ Eunapius called from within the darkness of the corridor. ‘Did you come alone?’ He uncovered the lamp he was holding and took a heavy step forward.

‘As nearly alone as a man can be when going about an enemy capital,’ Shahin said with a contemptuous laugh. He straightened up from an inspection of the perfect thighs of Antinous — he’d always enjoyed rubbing himself off against mine. ‘Are you so distrustful of your own slaves that Simon has to arrange meetings in public?’

‘My Lord’s palace may be watched,’ Simon said, trying for an emollient tone.

Shahin sniffed loudly. ‘Oh, let’s get on with it,’ he sighed. He stepped through the doorway and was followed by everyone else.

Antonia pressed herself against me. She put a cold and trembling hand on my arm. ‘Will they really kill us if they find us?’ she asked. I nearly jumped. I’d forgotten I wasn’t alone. I suppressed the returning guilt and fear. I tried for a reassuring squeeze of her hand. It was the only answer I could give. Taking extra care not to scrape my feet on the floor, I continued moving towards the little access stairway.

Leaded roofs in the dark are treacherous things. There’s a risk you won’t notice until it’s too late that you aren’t standing on the level. I had to keep a tight hold on Antonia and make sure we both kept close by the line of glazed ceiling windows. Beyond this, it was easy enough to know which window we wanted. Ours was the only one in which every piece of glass shone bright. Ours was the one that was abruptly pushed open from below as we approached it, and secured with a two-inch gap. Hoping not to spoil my toga, I lay down flat about a foot away. In a kind of press-up that made no sound, I moved my face close to the gap. I pulled back as something with wings settled on my nose. I brushed it away and tried to get into the same comfortable position that I’d now lost. From out here, the lamps had seemed to fill the room with as much light as Nicetas had laid on for his recital. Looking in, I could see that the one lamp left burning sent out a pool of light that barely showed anything beyond the table on which it was set. I pushed my face closer and bobbed up and down and from side to side. I could dimly make out a blackboard on which someone had drawn and half-erased a demonstration from Apollonius. Except for the unattractively large feet joined to the ends of Shahin’s short legs, there was nothing human to be seen.

No problem, however, with listening. I might as well have been inside the room. ‘Greetings, Eunapius of Pylae,’ Shahin said in a voice that mixed politeness with a dash of contempt. ‘I generally like to see men before I deal with them. These are, to be sure, unusual circumstances. But I rejoice in finally making your acquaintance.’

Simon broke in with a reminder of how short the time was till dawn. ‘We’ll be out of here long before then,’ came Shahin’s easy reply. ‘So long as your people keep the dock secured, my people are waiting out in the strait.’ His feet moved forward and I heard a creaking of wood that reminded me of our times together in Ctesiphon, when he’d rock back in his chair and stretch out his arms. With a sudden bump, his chair was properly on the floor and his legs were pulled back. ‘My dear Eunapius,’ he said with a turn to the businesslike. ‘I’ve heard much from Simon of your motivations and of what you are able to offer in return for our help. But let me ask you directly what it is that drives you and your associates to make an approach to the Empire’s most deadly enemy. Why have you turned traitor? ’

There was a long silence. But I finally heard someone get up and walk over to the door. It opened for a moment, then was pushed shut again. ‘My Lord Shahin,’ Eunapius began in an attempt at firmness, ‘we do not regard ourselves as the traitors. We make this approach only as a last resort and in response to an Emperor who is himself subverting the Empire’s most fundamental laws.’ His voice trailed off and died. It was barely into this opening statement when it had lost all the unpleasant bounce of earlier in the evening. Eunapius coughed, cleared his throat and started again. ‘We, the nobility of the Empire, are the true representatives of the Roman people. We are the living embodiment of their glory and guardians of their Constitution.’ He stopped again. This time, when he started, he spoke quickly and made no effort at measured grandeur of utterance. Heraclius was taking his order’s land away, he whined. By closing down, one at a time, every historic department in the state, Heraclius was abolishing every office of dignity and every subordinate office that should be filled by the clients of the dignified. Heraclius was proposing to empty out the cities. Heraclius was raising the cultivators of the soil to an unnatural eminence and was even arming these men, and talking about raising an army from them that would be officered by men without birth and leisured education. Heraclius was listening to Jews and Armenians. Heraclius was giving inexplicable rights to merchants to arrange their own affairs and set their own prices. In short, Heraclius was turning the Empire upside down, and making it into a country as alien to its rightful governing class as the lost provinces of the West.

What Eunapius had brought out, in one tangled thread of rage and bitterness, was a fair summary of all that I’d already impressed on the Emperor, or was nudging him, a step at a time, to consider. With a bit of rearrangement and softening, I could easily have worked a transcript of all he said into a manifesto.

‘So it’s pretty young Alaric who’s pissed your people off!’ Shahin said in a voice of grave mockery that I doubted Eunapius was calm enough to notice. ‘We had our own taste of his reforms last spring, when a mob of farmers stopped our advance into the Home Provinces. We certainly shan’t forget the time he spent with us in Ctesiphon.’ He sniffed and stretched again.

Eunapius stopped walking up and down the room. ‘I’m told you had the piece of barbarian shit in your power all yesterday afternoon,’ he did his best not to shout. ‘Can I ask why you didn’t kill him on the spot?’

Shahin gave way to openly mocking laughter. ‘If I’d done that,’ he sneered, ‘can I suppose you and your friends would still be so keen to do business with me?’

The room was silent. At last, Simon struck up in his role as mediator. ‘If you please, My Lords, I will outline the agreement that has been made. The best people in Constantinople will convene an extraordinary meeting of the Senate and declare Heraclius a public enemy. Those ministers who do not recognise the Senate’s decree will be removed from office. The people will be promised the full return of their ancient privileges. The new Emperor will be Nicetas. The army will obey his order to arrest Heraclius. He will then open frank and open negotiations with the Great King for a fair settlement of what all agree has been a long and exhausting war. This settlement will include an acknowledgement of those conquests of Imperial territory already made by Chosroes, and a granting of such other territories as may be requested. At the same time, the Lord General Shahrbaraz and his deputy Shahin will provide whatever armed support the new Emperor may require.

‘Can I ask My Lords to confirm that this is an accurate overview of what has been agreed?’

‘Absolutely!’ Shahin said with what may have been a slapping of his thigh. ‘I couldn’t have said better myself. Peace and a renewal of friendly cooperation between the two Shining Eyes of the World. What more could any man want?’

I’d again forgotten that Antonia was beside me. ‘What about Cappadocia and Syria?’ she whispered. I dug my elbow in her side, and she was quiet again. So many silly questions — and hadn’t this one just been answered? I may not have had much regard for their value but I was buggered if I’d let the Persians keep Syria and have Egypt handed over on a plate. Certainly not Cappadocia. That was undeniably ours, even on my map of a remodelled Empire.