Harry Turtledove - Justinian

Balgitzin swilled till he began to snore. Papatzun let out a sniff of contempt. I had been to enough Khazar banquets to have learned that the one who passes out first is often an object of contempt, being reckoned weak if not effeminate. In slow, bad Greek, with long pauses for thought between words, Papatzun said, "No- hold- wine."

"No, indeed," I answered. I was by then quite drunk, but not so drunk as to let down my guard. "You, now, you drink like a man." He smiled vaguely, understanding enough of the Greek to know I had not insulted him. I did my best to put the words into the Khazar tongue.

"I am a man," he said in his native language. "You are a man." I wondered if he would run through the conjugation of the verb to be, but he just studied me for a while, now making no pretense of doing anything else. After a couple of minutes of this intense scrutiny, he lifted his goblet in what was half salute, half challenge. I lifted mine as well. We drank at the same time, and drank deep.

Presently, Papatzun slumped over like a tree under the woodsman's ax. Having won the drinking bout, I looked around for Theodora. She was not there; she must have gone off with Balgitzin's wife. One of the Khazar's slaves came up to me when, vaguely surprised that I could, I got to my feet. "Take me to my wife," I said when he asked what I required.

Instead, he brought Theodora to me. She looked down at Balgitzin and Papatzun, both of whom sprawled snoring on the rugs. But for those snores, they might as well have been dead men. They would lie there unmoving till sunrise or longer. After that, for some hours they would wish for death rather than imitating it. Having lain as they lay, I knew this well.

Not even the stark shadows of lamplight fully defined the expression on Theodora's face, which, being flatter and smoother than those of Roman blood, had fewer sharp angles to build shadows. Her eyes went from the snoring Khazars to me. "Can you walk home?" she asked.

"I can do anything," I said grandly, which in truth meant I could do very little. Theodora smiled. She knew what kind of talk got poured out of the neck of a wine jar. I do remember that we got home, and I am too large for her to have carried me all that way, so logic compels me to believe I walked. Logic aside, though, I have no proof of this.

Thinking on it, I suppose the guards Balgitzin had given me (or had set on me- I still did not know how to construe their presence) could have done the hauling. But Theodora would have chaffed me about that had it happened, so I still believe I did set one foot in front of the other all the way from Balgitzin's residence to my own.

Once there, I remember asking her, "What did you learn of Papatzun's slaves?"

She seemed impressed at my recalling Papatzun had slaves, let alone that they might know something important. But all she would say was, "I will tell you in the morning." I tried to argue with her. She lay down, as if for sleep. I lay down beside her to go on with the argument, and the wine overwhelmed me, as she must have known it would. Devious, was Theodora.

I have had thicker heads than the one with which I woke up the next day- a few. Headache or no, though, I remembered what Theodora had said before I passed out. We still lay side by side. Shaking her, I asked the same question I had put the night before: "What did you learn of Papatzun's slaves?"

She woke smoothly, as was her usual habit, nor, for that matter, had she drunk herself into crapulence. "You do recall." She sounded surprised. "If I thought you would, I would have told you last night. Papatzun has"- her face went cold and sad-"has brought Balgitzin orders to kill you whenever he gets the command from, from-"

"From your brother," I finished for her.

"Yes," she said, and looked away from me. I heard tears in her voice as she went on, "I knew he could do this. I did not think he would do this."

Not all the blood pounding in my head sprang from the hangover, not now. Part of that painful drumroll was fury. "Your brother can give orders, but he is in Atil, far away," I said. "His commands will take time to be obeyed. I am right here. I intend to be ready to move tonight."

She did not, at first, fully grasp what I was saying, being caught up in the choices she had made. "He is my brother," she whispered- probably to hers elf, for she used the Khazar tongue, "but you are my husband. You are my husband."

I took her in my arms. "And very glad of it, too," I said. Had it not been for her, no doubt Ibouzeros Gliabanos, Papatzun, and Balgitzin should have succeeded in making away with me. But that was not what I meant, or was, at most, a tiny part of it. I have never heard the act of love praised as a cure for too much wine, but it served me admirably.

Much improved, and knowing now what lay before me, I summoned Myakes. He and Theodora and I spent much of the morning making plans, finding holes in them, and making new ones. At last we had a scheme that satisfied everyone- except Theodora.

"You will leave me behind," she said bitterly.

I nodded. "I will. If I win after tonight, as God is my witness and my judge I will send for you. And if I lose, you will be able to go home safely to your brother. He will treat you well regardless of what happens here. You are blood of his blood, as I am not, and your child will carry my blood as well, which may prove useful to him one day. That, though, is only if I lose." I kissed her, right there in front of Myakes, and, I daresay, scandalized him. "I intend to win."

The feast I laid on that night rivaled the one Balgitzin had given the night before. The food, in my judgment, was better, being cooked in the Roman fashion rather than that of the Khazars. Papatzun might not have found it better, but he found no fault with it, either, not by how much he ate. He drank as heroically as he had the night before, too.

Through Theodora, who was interpreting between us, he said, "You drank me down last night, Justinian, but tonight you are not even in the race. Do you Romans save it up for one night and then give over? A true man is ready to drink every night!" He drained his cup and held it out for more.

I rose as if to fill it myself, carrying the wine jar as I went round behind him. But instead of pouring at once, I set the jar down on the table. Papatzun looked back over his shoulder at me, drunken puzzlement on his face.

Setting down the jar let me free the braided leather cord I was using as a belt for my tunic. His turning his head at just that moment gave me the perfect chance to whip that cord around his thick neck. I tightened it with all the strength I had in me.

Papatzun tried to cry out. He could not- I gave him no air. He tried to reach around himself to seize me and throw me aside, but could not do that, either. His feet thumped on the floor. They grew still surprisingly fast. His face went from the red of drunkenness to a purplish black I had not seen since the Sklavinian woman hanged herself in my pavilion.

Not until the stench of loosening bowels proved him dead did I relax my grip. Then, letting him topple over, I turned to Myakes and Theodora, belting the leather cord back around my waist as I did so. My grin might have been the one on my face after having a woman. "One traitor dealt with," I said. "Now for the other."

Before I could go out the door, Theodora embraced me, saying, "God with you."

"God with us all," I said, not knowing whether I would ever see her again.

When Myakes and I burst outside, the guards Balgitzin set over me, who had been drinking wine and shooting dice by torchlight, sprang to their feet. "What is wrong?" asked the one who spoke the best Greek.

I jerked a thumb back at the house. "Papatzun has been taken ill in there," I said, that bearing at least some nodding relation to the truth. I followed it with a thoroughgoing lie: "He's asking for Balgitzin- says it's life or death."