David Pilling - The Red Death

“Can you manage a little wine?” he asked, “it might help the pain.”

I took the proffered cup with a trembling hand and slopped down his excellent wine. Alcohol flowed through me and dulled the burning in my back. I held out my cup for more.

“Where there is thirst, there is life,” remarked Narses. He poured out another generous measure and waddled back to his chair. There was an orderly heap of papyri on the desk, which he spread out and read through while I gulped down the sweet, life-giving liquid.

“Why did you save me, lord?” I asked when my cup was drained.

Narses sniffed and sat back in his chair. “Several reasons,” he replied, and started to tick them off on his fat fingers, “firstly, you have succeeded in angering Theodora. I always have time for anyone who does that. Secondly, you have proved yourself to be a useful servant of Rome, and it is a pity to waste useful men. Thirdly, Theodora must learn that she cannot play the tyrant. The rot of the Western Empire stemmed from the brutality and incompetence of its rulers. I will not allow some latter-day female Caligula to run amok in Constantinople, torturing and murdering as she pleases.”

“You will not be surprised to learn that I employ many spies,” he went on, “for years now I have kept a close watch on Theodora, even before she snared Justinian. She has always been vicious, and power-hungry, and looking for the next advantage.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Watched, and made a list of her crimes, and did nothing. I should have had her disposed of, when she was still dancing and selling her body for a living. Too late now. The Emperor is besotted with her. At least I have acted in time to rescue you.”

Doubtless it was in your interest, I thought, but held my tongue.

There was a soft knock at the door. The Armenian guard opened it to admit a plump, elderly man carrying a leather bag.

“There he is, Kleinias,” said Narses, jerking his thumb at me, “his back resembles a half-roasted ham. Get to work.”

The man nodded and approached the couch. He made little tutting noises as he examined my burns, and knelt beside me to rummage inside his bag.

“You are in excellent hands, Coel,” added Narses, “I can afford to pay for the best in all things, and Kleinias is the best Greek physician my money could buy. He will heal your back quick and clean.”

I lay quiet while the physician rubbed various greasy unguents on my burns. Their strong herbal smell, along with the wine and my general exhaustion of body and mind, made me feel light-headed. I started to drowse.

“What will happen to me?” I asked thickly, allowing my cup to slip from my fingers and fall onto the thick goatskin rug.

“For now you will rest here, and then we shall have to ponder,” Narses replied, “it may be best to smuggle you out of the city.”

His voice echoed strangely in my ears, and seemed to mingle with the distant crashing of waves on a moonlit African shore. Or was it the sound of men fighting and dying on the plain of Tricamarum? I could not be sure. I could not even stay awake.

“No…” I mumbled as my eyelids closed, “will not leave the city…this is…my home…home.”

I woke to find myself in darkness again, but warm and comforting darkness complemented by clean linen and soft sheets. The fire in my back had cooled and the upper part of my body was wrapped in fresh bandages.

Reluctant to surface too soon, I opened my eyes a crack and saw a fire burning low inside a grate. The sight of fire took me straight back to Theodora’s vile oven. I moaned and tried to crawl away, and gasped as a bolt of pain shot up my spine.

The burns were going to take time to heal. I forced myself to be calm, lie quietly on my front and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I glimpsed moonlight lancing through the apertures of the closed wooden shutters on the window. Pieces of dark, heavy furniture were arranged neatly about the room, and a tall gilded candelabrum stood in one corner. The bed was small, barely wide enough to accommodate me. I smiled wryly as I realised it must belong to Narses. This was the eunuch’s own bedchamber.

It was uncommonly generous of him to lend me the use of his bed, which made me wonder where such generosity sprang from. The likes of Narses did nothing for reasons of sheer charity.

I slept for another hour or two, until grey morning light started to filter through the shutters. At some point the door opened and Kleinias crept in to check on me. He walked with a light step for a big man, and I hardly noticed his presence and the gentle probing of his fingers as he unpeeled a bandage to inspect my back.

“He will do,” I heard him say in a low voice. He spoke to a shadow in the doorway, no doubt Narses, who nodded and flitted away. I cared little, and sank back into a blessed sleep.

I woke properly to find the room flooded with light, the shutters opened and flung wide, and Narses standing at the foot of the bed.

“Good morning,” he trilled, “and what a glorious morning it is. God shines his lamps upon us. A new day beckons, and with it all manner of possibilities.”

I had rarely heard him sound so cheerful, and suspected it boded ill. “I am in no position to appreciate it,” I said, wincing as I shifted slightly, “my back hurts like the devil.”

Narses ran a hand through his neatly clipped bear and moved over to the window. “You may not have the leisure to recuperate,” he said quietly, “there are rumours sweeping through the palace. Theodora has declared war on us. On me.”

“War?” I exclaimed. “Has there been any fighting?”

He shook his head impatiently. “Don’t be so literal. I didn’t mean that kind of war. Our bodyguards are not hacking each other to death in the corridors of power. She has more subtle weapons.”

I slowly crawled out of bed, gasping at every stab of pain. There was a robe folded on a side-table next to the bed. I carefully put it on.

Caledflwch stood leaning against the wall inside a new scabbard of red leather. “My thanks for allowing me to keep this,” I said as I buckled on the sword-belt, “I know you wanted it for the imperial treasury.”

He shrugged. “It was Belisarius’s decision. Just keep the wretched thing safe. We have other things to worry about. I ask you again, will you consent to be smuggled out of Constantinople? I can find you a safe berth in some distant garrison. Or money and an escort to take you beyond our borders, if you prefer.”

“No,” I said firmly, “I have run away too often in my life. Here I stand, come what may.”

“I could force you to go. Your disappearance might draw the sting from Theodora’s anger.”

I refused to be intimidated. “Belisarius appointed me to his personal guard. He wants me here by his side. He is the most popular man in the Empire. You would not want to make an enemy of him.”

“He need not know,” Narses shot back, “he doesn’t know you are here, or what happened last night. So far as the general is concerned, you vanished yesterday with no explanation. Those citizens who saw you abducted by Theodora’s men have kept their mouths shut. Very wise of them.”

I waited, wondering if he meant to throw me to the wolves after all. It seemed pointless, considering the risks he had taken to snatch me from their jaws. If it came to it, could I overpower Narses and fight my way past his Armenians?

Not a chance. He might be easy enough to dispose of, but his guards were powerful-looking men. Even when fit I would not be confident of taking on any one of them.

It was then I realised that Narses didn’t know what to do. For once the sly, calculating eunuch, who always gave the impression of having the world’s knowledge at his fingertips, was at a loss. He had rescued me in order to spite the Empress and teach her a lesson in humility, but with no thought to the consequences.