Richard Blake - The Curse of Babylon

Antonia frowned. ‘And this is something you’ll still want tomorrow and the day after tomorrow?’ she asked. ‘You’ll still want it after I’ve helped you bring down Daddy? Love isn’t the same as fucking.’ She stopped a sharp intake of breath. ‘I learned that the hard way when I was thirteen,’ she ended with a slight tremor.

I put my arm about her. I swallowed and looked at her. ‘If it means taking the first ship out of here to Italy, and then to the realms of barbarism where the name of Heraclius is barely a name, we shall be married,’ I said.

She played with one of her nipples. ‘I don’t think I’d like to leave Constantinople,’ she said, now with a smile. ‘But I appreciate the sentiment.’ She sat up and stretched. ‘Do you think Uncle will be here by next week?’

I pulled her to me, and kissed her. ‘He’ll have my letter by Friday,’ I said. ‘Give him a day for getting over the shock, and then another two for asking advice of everyone down to the latrine slaves — we can expect him a week after that.’

‘He’ll have to kill Daddy, of course,’ she said firmly. Hers had been the Imperial Family just under five years. Some of its members hadn’t needed long at all to forget the normal bonds of affection. I looked into her eyes and did my best not to see their ruthless flash.

‘Heraclius doesn’t kill his own,’ I said with a slight emphasis. ‘So long as we can make out the charges in private, he’ll have your father shut away. He can be the Fortified Monastery’s first guest of quality since the rebuilding.’

She sat up again. If my own energies were fast recovering, she now had other things on her mind. ‘Too close,’ she said. ‘You must get him sent to Trebizond. The place is so dreary, you can beg for him to be spared blinding.’ Apparently as the mood took us, we’d been moving back and forth between Greek and Latin. But I could now see the key to her own usage. Except with Heraclius, it was a while since I’d used Latin other than as a means of concealment from nearby Greeks, or to communicate with my own Western domestics. As a language of power, it had a strange and even creepy sound on Antonia’s lips.

‘Don’t you think we’re running ahead of ourselves?’ I asked. I couldn’t say what sort of wife I’d thought I might find. It would be someone, I hadn’t doubted, more willing than this to stay out of sight and not ask too many questions. I looked at her again. Never mind, I told myself. Marriage always came down to the luck of the draw. Assuming Heraclius didn’t stuff me away beside Nicetas in the Fortified Monastery, I might easily have done worse. I lay back with my hands cupped under my head. I stared happily down the length of my body. I wiggled my toes again. Yes, things might have gone worse than they had. Though they hadn’t yet reached their conclusion, I could see my way to a conclusion. It was a matter of keeping me and mine safe till Heraclius put in an appearance.

Antonia put a hand on my chest. ‘I think I’ve worked out most things for myself,’ she said, now less tigerish. ‘However, I’d like to see the Horn of Babylon. Assuming that gross animal Eunapius was telling the truth, isn’t this what brought us together?’

I looked across the room at the late afternoon sunlight that streamed through all the windows. Soon, we’d have to get up. I’d call for baths to be brought in and filled for us. I’d call for women’s clothing for Antonia to put on and take her down to the library, where Theodore would be seeking comfort in the sermons of John Chrysostom, or possibly in the Revelation of Saint John — he preferred its vengeful tone to any of the Gospels. One of the many secrets this building contained could and should be fully disclosed. After that, there would be lawyers to summon and announcements to be drafted, though left unpublished until the day when we could get Heraclius to say the right word. And there was an Empire to save as well — not to mention the continuing business of its financial and other governance to be transacted. I stared up at the ceiling. Could I really get away with the alternative suggestion of more sex? I decided not.

‘It’s nothing much to see,’ I began. ‘But it is connected with Heraclius and your father. .’

Behind me, on my right, someone rattled the handle of my innermost door. ‘Are you in here, Father?’ Theodore cried uncertainly. ‘Antony hasn’t been seen all day. I’m really worried about him.’ I put a hand up for silence. How had he got through the other doors? The answer to that was a rattling of keys and the soft click of a lock pushed open.

It was too late to pull the blankets over us. All I could do was smile stupidly back as the boy came into the room and looked at us. He fell to his knees. His mouth opened and closed. I hoped he’d cover his eyes to blot out the vision of total sin he’d stumbled upon. ‘Antony!’ he croaked despairingly. I jumped out of bed and hurried over to the door. How the buggery had he laid hands on the master keys? I’d take my fists to Samo if he’d drunk himself blotto again and let the boy steal them from his belt. I closed the bedroom door and walked slowly back to Theodore. Antonia had got a sheet about her body. I looked round for something to put on. There was nothing within reach.

I sat on the floor beside him. I put a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t shrink back, but continued staring at Antonia. She pulled the sheet closer and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘Listen, Theodore,’ I said softly. ‘I was hoping to break this to you in a less — ah — shocking manner.’ I didn’t think he was listening, but went on even so. ‘There were reasons for this deception. These reasons are now passed. But I do most humbly apologise for not having taken you into my confidence.’

He wasn’t listening and I could be glad of that. ‘It is my own fault,’ the boy said calmly. He looked into my face. ‘I have committed the ultimate sin in my heart, and this is the beginning of my punishment. Blessed be the Name of the Lord.’

I’d seen him in this mood only once before. That was when he’d eaten too many honeyed figs. I’d only stopped things from ending badly by sending Martin into his room to take back the scourge I’d neglected to throw away on taking possession of the palace. Martin had prayed with the boy for the better part of Christmas Day and slowly brought him to his senses. But Martin was on Lesbos and the visions of lust Theodore had welcomed into his mind, and their brutal disabusing, weren’t in the same class as an attack of indigestion. If I’d had anyone to send out of the room, I’d have called for Father Macarius. He was a disgusting, smelly creature, whose only worthwhile feature was his ability to keep out of my sight. If there was anyone, though, who could stop the gathering descent into lunacy I was watching, it had to be the chaplain.

But Antonia was on her feet. ‘Alaric,’ she said in a voice that wasn’t to be resisted, ‘please leave the room.’ I shook my head and nodded towards Theodore. She came closer. ‘Go and see if the baths are ready,’ she added, not turning in my direction. ‘There are things we need to discuss alone.’

For the first time, I was looking at the cup in daylight. Rather, I was pretending to look at it. Whatever the light, whatever my interest, there was nothing more to be learned from an inscription in an unknown and probably dead language and a picture as crude in its own way as anything I’d seen in Egypt.

‘What did you tell him?’ I asked without looking up.

Antonia closed the office door and came over to my desk. She sat down opposite me. ‘I told him the truth,’ she said. ‘Because I am the only one who can possibly be blamed for what has happened, it was my duty to tell him the complete truth. You’ll agree that was the least he deserved.’