Harry Turtledove - Justinian

"What of Christopher?" Justinian broke in.

"I don't know, Emperor," the fellow answered.

I didn't know then, either. Years later, cooped up here in the monastery, I found out. The Khersonites and the Khazars in Kherson sent the tudun and Zo\a239los and all the prisoners off to Ibouzeros Gliabanos. Along the way, the tudun died. They slaughtered Christopher and all the captured soldiers- I heard three hundred, but I don't know if that's right or not- to give him slaves in the next world. They aren't Christians, the Khazars, not even close.

"Emperor," the messenger said after a little while, "that's not the worst of it."

"God and His Son, what could be worse?" Justinian said, still in that toneless voice, like he couldn't take in what he was hearing. But he took it in, all right. He wasn't giving anything back, that's what it was, nothing at all.

The messenger licked his lips. I remember that. I was thinking, This is what he really, really doesn't want to tell. But he didn't have any choice, not any more he didn't, and so he blurted it out in a rush: "Emperor, they've declared Bardanes Emperor up there."

After that, nobody said anything for- oh, I don't know how long. If anybody breathed during however long it was, it must have been by accident. Theophylaktos the eunuch's eyes got big as hen's eggs. If he were here, he'd probably tell you mine were the same size.

Or maybe not, on account of maybe all he was doing was watching Justinian. That was most of what I was doing, too, but every now and then my eyes would move away for a heartbeat or two. Believe me, Brother Elpidios, that was most of what everybody in the Blakhernai throne room was doing.

Justinian couldn't very well watch himself. He watched the messenger instead, till the poor son of a whore must have thought his head would be the next one on a speak in front of the Milion. And then, in a quiet, even voice, Justinian said, "By the time I am through with them, Bardanes and Helias will wish they were Leontios and Apsimaros."

I think that was the most frightening thing I ever heard in my life, Brother Elpidios.

And then, just like he wrote it, Justinian asked, "Does Helias have a wife in the city? Does Bardanes?"

He didn't need long to find out.

Ha! Helias did have a wife in the city, a woman named Zoe. He had a couple of brats, too. I sent soldiers to fetch them all to the Blakhernai palace. I sent a man to bring Cyrus the ecumenical patriarch here, too, to pronounce her divorce from her husband. Conspiracy against the Emperor has been a legal ground for dissolving a marriage from very ancient days.

And then I had another happy thought and made another summons. I thought it was particularly fitting.

One of the traitor's children proved to be a nursing babe, the other a toddler. Zoe held them both in her arms while I told her the crime of which her husband was guilty. She hung her head. False tears streamed from her eyes.

Cyrus droned out the formula of divorcement, along with all the whys and wherefores that made it binding straightaway. Now Zoe wept in earnest, at being sundered from the man who had betrayed me. The patriarch had done his job. He left.

"Now," I said to Zoe, "you are in law free of the man who was your husband."

"Your will be done, Emperor," she whispered.

"Oh, my will shall be done in this matter," I said, "in every way." I pointed to the children she still held. "They are of the traitor's blood. His line shall not continue."

Zoe began to scream. She turned, as if to run. Excubitores blocked her path. More excubitores advanced on her, seized her, and took the infants from her. Her shrieks grew loud. They echoed sweetly from the roof of the the throne room. They redoubled yet again when a man dressed all in black and wearing a black hood strode into the chamber.

Zoe saw him going over toward the guardsmen who held her children. She screamed, "No, Emperor, not them! Kill me instead! Not them!"

"They are of the seed of the traitor and rebel," I said. "You are not. Now that you are divorced from him, you need have no more concern for him and his."

"My babies!" Zoe cried. The excubitores held her fast when she tried to break free and run to them.

I nodded to the executioner. He did his job smoothly and with great dispatch- he cut the throat of the older child and then, a moment later, of the baby as well. They did not suffer. They died almost before they knew they were hurt. Their blood poured down onto the tesserae of the throne-room floor. Not nearly so much blood as a full-grown man holds, I noted. The servants would have no trouble cleaning up the mess.

Zoe's wails went on and on. "Hear me!" I said sharply. For a moment, she quietened. I went on, "Now that you have no children and are also bereft of your husband, you stand in need of consolation. Surely the love of another man will make up for your small losses here today."

"No!" she screamed, and much abuse of which I took no notice.

I clapped my hands together, once, twice, three times. Into the throne room came John, Helias's Ethiopian cook. "Behold," I said, "your new husband."

John leered at Zoe. I had not thought she could shriek louder than she already had done, but I was wrong. A weedy little priest named Basil tiptoed in after John. He was another of those useful people who did as they were told.

Now, as he had been instructed, he read the marriage service before John and Zoe. John's responses were eager nods. Zoe's were screams or noes. I told Basil, "The woman is distraught. She does not know what she is saying. You are to interpret those as affirmatives."

"Yes, Emperor," he said dutifully. The crowns of marriage- cheap copper ones; no point wasting better on the likes of them- were set upon their heads, and Basil pronounced them man and wife.

I nodded to John. "Consummate your marriage." His Greek was not up to that. I simplified the matter: "Now you take her." Those words he had no trouble understanding. I had earlier urged him to seal their union in the throne room itself. Even though he was only a black barbarian, he did not want to do that. I had set aside a chamber nearby instead. To this he now led- dragged- his bride, while I led the party of well-wishers shouting bawdy advice as they went.

The door slammed shut. Presently, after some small commotion within, Zoe began to scream on a note different from the one she had used up until that time. The excubitores and courtiers standing in the hall with me took this as a sign the marriage union had been accomplished, and so did I. We burst into cheers.

After a while, the door opened and John came forth. Zoe was no virgin. I had not given him a square of linen with which to prove he could show he had taken her maidenhead. But his smugly satisfied expression proved all that needed proving: this despite a couple of clawmarks on one cheek.

Behind him, I saw Zoe, loosely wrapped in the tunic he must have torn off her. She sat on the edge of the bed. Her feet dangled down toward the floor. Her face was buried in her hands. Racking sobs shook her body.

"What kind of bridegroom thinks one round is enough?" I demanded of John. "Remember, she is yours. Go back and do your duty to her properly."

He was a young man, so he needed little urging. He looked thoughtful for a moment. Maybe he wondered whether he was ready to rise again so soon. Then he grinned- he was ready. His teeth, as always, seemed especially white because they were seen against his dark skin. He closed the door. The well-wishers and I waited until Zoe started to scream again. Then we applauded to drown out her racket.

After I encouraged John to show his paces, he proved a man of formidable stamina. No doubt he had suffered long deprivation in such matters because he had been a slave. Perhaps, too, he was excited because he got to swive the woman who had ordered him about.