Harry Turtledove - Justinian

We both slept then, waking only with the sunrise. The bedclothes bore stains from my seed dribbling out of her in the night: not the stains of maidenhead overwhelmed, as on the first night, but those of a deeper, longer-lasting intimacy. "I am glad you're with me again," I said, and, despite her body's being somewhat less enjoyable than before, I spoke the truth.

My having chosen to dwell at the palace in the Blakhernai district rather than the grand palace furnished the opportunity for a parade through most of the imperial city when the time came to crown Theodora Augusta and Tiberius junior Emperor. This met with the raucous approval of the Constantinopolitan city mob, more of whom were able to gape at the procession that would have been the case had we gone only the short distance from the grand palace up to the church of the Holy Wisdom.

It also met with Theodora's approval, for it allowed her to see the many monuments and churches and splendid buildings lying along the Mese. We did not solicit Tiberius's opinion, as he was still far too small for it to matter in any way. From somewhere- God only knows where- Theophylaktos produced an imperial robe of a size appropriate for a baby. When dressed therein, Tiberius looked absurdly majestic- and, I must say, majestically absurd.

Ceremonial required Theodora to hold Tiberius up for the people of Constantinople to see and to admire throughout the entire procession. This proved one disadvantage of making the aforesaid procession longer; not far past the column of Markianos, she whispered to me, "My arms will fall off."

"Keep going anyhow," I whispered back; departing from tradition was dangerous. When she looked mutinous, I added, "Besides, they all love him." Her face softened, for that was obviously true. Women cooed and men smiled at the spectacle of a plump, good-natured baby- which Tiberius was- decked out in a miniature version of his father's magnificent robes.

"So sweet!" a woman exclaimed, and heads close by her bobbed up and down in agreement.

"You see?" I said to Theodora.

"I see," she replied, but, never being one to shy from speaking her mind, she added, "I wish you carried him a while." Then, proving how much better her Greek had become, she made a pun, saying, "I carried him nine months already."

"My turn will come inside the great church," I said. She subsided, recognizing that against necessity one struggled in vain. Ceremonial and necessity, when mentioned in matters pertaining to the Emperor of the Romans, might as well be one and the same.

We passed through the Forum of Constantine, paraded by the church of St. Euphemia near the hippodrome, and came up to the Milion, which marks the end of the Mese. The heads of Leontios and Apsimaros were still on display in front of it, both somewhat the worse for wear but distinguishable one from the other on account of Leontios's mutilation.

Deliberately, Theodora turned her back on the last remains of the two usurpers. "Revenge," she said, "is good."

"Truly God was wise when He sent me to your brother's court," I told her, receiving in return a proud smile.

Not far past the Milion stands the church of the Holy Wisdom. "It is the biggest building I have ever seen," Theodora said, peering up and up and up at the massive structure of golden sandstone. From the outside, the massiveness of the church is its most noteworthy feature. Like an egg, it hides its riches within a plain shell.

When we went into the narthex, the outer chamber before the worship area itself, Theodora exclaimed at the mosaics. "Yes, they are fine," I agreed, "but you will find work that comes close to them at the Blakhernai palace, and work to match them in the grand palace. However\a160…"

We went on, into the naos itself. Cyrus the ecumenical patriarch waited for us beside the golden altar table. And he waited longer than strict ceremonial would have dictated, too, for Theodora, having decided to stare up into the great dome, stood transfixed, apparently unable to go forward.

Following her gaze, I also looked up into the dome. Having come to the great church many times, I normally took even such a marvel for granted: so familiarity enslaves us all. Now, though, I saw as it were with new eyes, viewing it, thanks to Theodora, as if for the first time once more. The sunbeams streaming through the many windows ringing the base of the dome, light striking off the golden tesserae in the dome itself, shifting if I moved my head by so much as a digit's breadth\a160…

"It floats in the sky," Theodora whispered. "Nothing holds it up but the light. It is not part of the building."

None of that, of course, was literally true. And yet every word of it seemed true. Having once begun to stare up into the dome myself, I needed a distinct effort of will to look away. I touched Theodora on the arm, which called her back to herself. Together, we approached the altar. Now Theodora could see and appreciate the marble and precious metal that had been lavished on the great church. Before, the overmastering splendor of the dome commanding her attention, no lesser marvel had been able to show itself to her.

Cyrus prayed, beseeching God's mercy and lovingkindness for me, for my family, and for the Roman Empire. When I became Emperor of the Romans, George, then ecumenical patriarch, had set the crown on my head, but it is the Emperor who crowns both the junior Emperor and the Augusta. The assembled grandees having added their acclamations to those of Cyrus, the patriarch handed me the first of the crowns I was to bestow.

"Behold the Emperor Tiberius!" I cried, and set the crown on my son's head. I kept hold of the crown as well, it being made for a fully grown man. On feeling something brush against his hair, Tiberius whipped his little head around, trying to find out what it was. When he saw the crown, he grabbed for it; his hands were beginning to obey his will. Once he had seized it, he tried to bring it down to his mouth so he could chew on it, as he did with everything that came within his reach.

"Many years to the Emperor Tiberius!" the nobles and bureaucrats of Constantinople cried. The acclamation was more casual than on many such occasions, many of the grandees being diverted by the junior- very junior- Emperor's antics. From the women's gallery came more laughter and sighs of amusement: the noblewomen shared affection for a baby with their humble cousins on the street.

Tu vincas was not a shout that went up at the coronation of any junior Emperor, conquest being the prerogative of the ruling Emperor. I could not even leave the crown on Tiberius, as I should have done had he been older. Once I had satisfied the symbolic requirement of placing it on his head, I took it away again. Tiberius reached for it, and howled when he could not get it.

More laughter rose and echoed from the dome. Theodora rocked Tiberius in her arms till he calmed. Having waited for that moment, I took the second crown from the hands of the ecumenical patriarch. The Augusta is more often crowned in the Augustaion, the enclosed open space south of the church of the Holy Wisdom, but I performed the ceremony inside the great church, combining it with the coronation of my son. Theophylaktos had grumbled a little at the proposal, but not much. And, being Emperor, I had my way.

At my gesture, Theodora slightly inclined her head. I set the crown on it, saying, "Behold the Augusta Theodora!" Tiberius, meanwhile, beheld the crown on his mother's head, let out a squeal of delight, and tried to get it, imperially certain it had been placed there for his amusement alone.

Over the echo of that squeal, more acclamations rang out. Most were in Latin, the ceremony for crowning the Augusta having changed less over the years than that for the Emperor. Indeed, it was my great-great-grandfather who changed the official title of the ruler of the Roman Empire from Augustus to the simple word Emperor.