James Heneage - The Walls of Byzantium

‘And the date?’

‘The year of his death: 1380. The year Siward left.’

Silence.

Then Anna said, ‘Why did you lie to me?’

‘About Suleyman?’ Zoe shrugged. ‘It was necessary.’

‘You’ve always been his lover?’

Zoe said nothing.

Anna said, ‘And Luke?’

Zoe shook her head. ‘It would have been nice. But no.’

Anna thought back to the cave and knew this to be true. That had been Luke’s first time, she was certain. But she had no doubt that Zoe had tried. She looked into eyes that were harder than stone.

‘Have you ever loved?’

Zoe laughed. ‘Loved? Why would I have loved? It ends in nothing.’

Pavlos Mamonas. Of course .

Zoe had been her father’s son, the one he should have had. She had been the child with the genius for trade. He’d sent her abroad to learn more, and she’d learnt. Then he’d taken it all away.

Anna said softly, ‘You cannot have that empire so you want another. Suleyman’s. And I’m in your way.’

Zoe was watching her through half-closed eyelids. Her head was to one side as if Anna was a thing of interest. She seemed amused.

‘But why the treasure?’ Anna asked. ‘Why is gold important? Suleyman has gold. He doesn’t need more.’

Zoe smiled then. It might have been a smile of friendship were it not for the crossbow. ‘You think that’s what’s down there? All this trouble for a little gold? Plethon sent by the Emperor to dig up a single casket of gold? I don’t think so …’

Anna waited. There was more to come.

‘The legend has it that whatever’s down there can save the Empire,’ continued Zoe. She looked down at the tomb. ‘But whatever can save, can also destroy, if given to the right person, wouldn’t you think?’

Anna understood. ‘So you give it to Suleyman who takes Constantinople, becomes Sultan and marries you,’ she murmured. She was staring into a candle, into a single tongue of flame rising above its wick, rigid with certainty. She looked up. ‘You would betray your empire.’

‘This Empire that devours its children? Yes, to gain another. It’s not a difficult choice.’

‘And the treasure, or whatever it is? How will you get it up?’

‘I have friends. You remember the Albanians that Alexis took to Geraki? The ones that disappeared? They’re inside the city.’

Albanians. The guards around the Grazier. Plethon won’t be coming

Anna slowly nodded. She needed to escape. She needed time. ‘You know, I actually thought you cared for Luke. I was even a little jealous.’

Zoe was looking at her as if in wonder. ‘We are so different,’ she murmured, shaking her head. ‘You have the heart of the man who will rule the world and yet you want a Varangian. We are so very different.’

‘Was that why you never married? Did you always plan this?’

‘Something like this. And it would all have been so much easier if you hadn’t arrived.’

Zoe looked beyond Anna.

‘Richard, tie her up.’

Before she’d had time to react, Anna’s arms were pinioned to her sides. She felt breath upon her neck.

‘We’ll not kill you yet,’ said Zoe. ‘You can see what we bring up before you die. You can tell your father when you see him.’

Anna’s hands were pulled behind her back and she felt the bite of rope around her wrists. For a moment she thought about screaming, but a gag was now covering her mouth. She was pushed forward on to a bench and Richard Mamonas appeared before her.

Zoe pointed towards her cousin with the crossbow. ‘Did you know that he killed your brother?’

Anna clenched her jaw. Alexis, his pale, anxious face set in entreaty, rose up before her. She closed her eyes but he was still there, this time straining to tell her something, to tell her of cannon.

This Empire that devours its children .

She opened her eyes and looked up at the painting. It was Luke lying there. Luke in a place with another open tomb. How could she make him wake up and come down with his dragon sword to help her?

Richard Mamonas was now tying her to the bench. When it was done, he checked the knots, straightened and walked over to join Zoe. He’d not looked at Anna.

There were footsteps in the church outside and two men walked in, one of whom she recognized. They held torches and carried the tools for lifting.

Then the three men got to work. Chisels were inserted into the sides of the stone and hessian applied to their tops to muffle the sound of the hammers. Soon, they were levering the stone up with iron bars until it broke free of its mortar and bigger bars could be put in to lift it. The men’s faces were taut with concentration and shone with sweat in the candlelight. Then the top of the tomb was free and had been lifted to one side. Zoe picked up a candle and stepped forward to peer inside.

‘Lift them out.’

Richard and one of the Albanians lowered themselves into the hole and lifted one, then two bodies out. They were wrapped in a heavy material bound by ropes and they scattered earth as they came.

Zoe said, ‘What else is down there?’

‘Just earth,’ said her cousin. Only his chest, shoulders and head were visible above the hole.

‘It must be beneath.’ She looked up and gestured to the other Albanian. ‘Give them spades.’

The two men began to dig, throwing the earth on to a pile on the chapel floor. It was not long before Richard Mamonas stopped. ‘I’ve hit something. Metal.’

Zoe knelt down. ‘It will be heavy. Can you get ropes around it?’

‘Yes, with more digging. Get them to bring the pulleys.’

Two more Albanians entered the chapel and set up lifting pulleys at each end of the grave. Richard Mamonas dug further and then disappeared to tie ropes to whatever was in there. After a while he reappeared, nodded at Zoe and climbed out of the hole.

‘Lift,’ Zoe said, signalling to the Albanians.

Four men bent their backs to the ropes, placing hand over hand to pull them. There were squeaks and groans and curses when, once, the object snagged itself on the grave’s walls.

Bit by bit, something came into view and Anna leant as far forward as her ropes would allow.

It was a casket, perhaps six feet in length, which had once been made of wood but was now a series of metal bands holding together its splintered remains.

Slowly, slowly, they lifted it from the grave and then swung it sideways to allow it to come to rest beside the hole.

No one spoke. The Albanians recovered their breath and looked at one another. Zoe and her cousin just stared at the casket.

‘Get rid of them,’ whispered Zoe, not moving. ‘Tell them to go.’

Richard Mamonas said some words to the soldiers and they picked up their tools and left. There were just three of them in the chapel now.

Zoe said, ‘Bring her over here.’

Mamonas crossed to Anna and untied her from the bench. Then he pulled her to her feet and led her over to stand at the side of the hole.

Zoe looked at her. Her eyes had a curious light in them. ‘Do you remember me washing you in that cistern below the palace?’ she asked. ‘Just after Richard here killed your brother?’

Anna remembered the cistern and a woman that had brought her a bath and the stuff to wash herself. She remembered steam and the sting of cuts dabbed by a gentle sponge. She remembered the comfort of disclosure.

You are scared of being buried?

Something like that .

Then she remembered a dread, a familiar dread that was now rising inside her.

‘Well, I remember it well, anyway,’ continued Zoe softly. ‘I remember when you told me about your deepest fear.’ She looked into the hole. ‘It’s in there, isn’t it?’