Harry Turtledove - Justinian

I found one, though: "This is the best news I have had since I got my nose back." I touched the member I had named. That put into my mind the thought of another member. "Going through with this will be more enjoyable than that was, too."

Everyone laughed except Cyrus, who permitted himself a smile. Then he said, "Emperor, I shall go the the palace now, to see what arrangements need be made to bring the young woman to our true and holy orthodox faith. I promise I shall be most diligent in instructing her, too, that the marriage may be celebrated as quickly as possible."

"That is good," I told him. "After you meet her, will you do one other thing for me?" He nodded, plainly anxious to please. Being anxious myself, I blurted out my question: "Will you tell me if she's pretty?"

Until such time as Tzitzak was baptized into the holy and saving Christian faith, I could not wed her, nor, by the customs of the Khazars (which are in this regard even more stringent than our own), even set eyes on her. I waited with such patience as I could muster: more, perhaps, than I had possessed before my exile, but no great amount nonetheless. Having concluded the bargain with Ibouzeros Gliabanos, I wanted it sealed.

As he had vowed, Cyrus did teach Tzitzak our beliefs at the best pace he could manage, finding her a willing pupil. The wife of a Roman merchant in Atil served as his interpreter, as chaperone, and also as another witness to the truths inherent in our creed.

"She is ready to be baptized, and to take a proper Christian name in place of the heathen appellation with which she was born," Cyrus said after what seemed forever but was in fact a matter of about three weeks. "Have you any suggestions, Emperor, for what that name might be? Zoe, perhaps, symbolizing the new life she is beginning? Or Anastasia, to honor your mother?"

This question having been in my mind since not long after Ibouzeros Gliabanos proposed the marriage alliance, I had an answer ready: "Neither of those, Cyrus. No, if it please her, let her be called Theodora."

"\a160'The gift of God,'\a160" Cyrus said, and nodded in agreement. "That is indeed a fitting name for a convert to the holy and orthodox faith, and-" He broke off, his eyes widening, and began again in a new tone of voice: "And she will bear the name of the first Justinian's consort."

"Just so. If I am named for the great Emperor, let her name recall that of his great Empress. You are a learned man, Cyrus; speak to her somewhat of the first Justinian's Theodora, that she may gain some understanding of the fame and honor accompanying the name."

"I shall do as you say, Emperor," Cyrus assured me. He looked sly. "And when news of this wedding, and of the name of the bride, reaches the Roman Empire, I have no doubt that it will create considerable\a160… excitement there."

"It had better," I said. "I intend that it should." I wanted Apsimaros to feel himself assailed by great names from out of the Roman past, and thus to feel himself all the more a parvenu, all the more illegitimate, all the more a usurper. Any means I could find to fill him with uncertainty and fear, I would use.

Tzitzak accepted the name Theodora without hesitation, and henceforth I shall refer to her by that name. Her baptism, at a small church used by Christian merchants in the Khazar capital, was by Cyrus's account and that of Ibouzeros Gliabanos a splendid affair (though not so splendid, unfortunately, as to tempt the khagan himself toward Christianity). The Khazar custom I have mentioned precluded my presence.

That accomplished, no impediment remained to our marriage. By the standards of Constantinople, it was celebrated with almost indecent haste. I, however, cared little for the standards of Constantinople, having been away from the imperial city for most of a decade. What I cared about was the chance to return to Constantinople. The marriage seeming necessary for that, I allowed no further delays.

Next to the church of the Holy Wisdom, even next to the churches of Kherson, that in which I was wed was a hovel. I think it was a furrier's warehouse before acquiring its present purpose. The crowns of marriage that went on my head and Theodora's were made of tin, the marriage belt I slipped round her waist (publicly here, again yielding to Khazar usages) of brass.

And yet, somehow, none of that mattered. With Cyrus officiating and the priest whose church it was assisting, the ceremony struck me as even more solemn and splendid than it had when I had wed Eudokia all those years before. I had been but a youth then. Now, half a lifetime later, I brought more of myself to the wedding, so to speak. That may have had something to do with it.

Here, too, I had caused a new soul to accept our saving Christian faith. That mattered very much to me. I also strongly felt the importance of renewing the alliance with the Khazars that had helped save the Roman Empire in the days of my great-great-grandfather and would now, God willing, help save it from the clutches of the usurper.

At last came the moment when, Theodora and I having given each other our vows, I could part her veil and see for myself what sort of bargain I had made with her brother the khagan.

Cyrus had told me I would find her acceptable. Taking another man's word in such matters, though, and especially the word of a celibate, is in itself a sort of act of faith, and not one I could easily or casually make. And so I examined her with no small curiosity and, at first, with something approaching dread.

By the standards of Constantinople, she was not a beauty. She had something of her brother's aspect: her face was flat and round, with high cheekbones, a rather low nose, and dark, narrow eyes set almost at a slant. But, having been in Atil for some time by then, I realized that, by the standards of Khazaria, she was, as Cyrus had assured me, an attractive woman. Her eyes, though narrow, were bright and clear, and she had a fine pointed chin (if Ibouzeros Gliabanos had the same, his beard concealed it).

She was also studying me, as no doubt she had been throughout the ceremony. She had not seen me until then, either, and must have heard of my mutilation and its repair. I wondered what she thought.

She surprised me by speaking in Greek obviously memorized and now parroted: "I shall try to be a good wife for you, Justinian Emperor of the Romans."

I wished I had learned more of the language she spoke. I had picked up a few words since arriving at her brother's court, but for the most part had relied upon Barisbakourios and Stephen to interpret for me: what point to the Emperor of the Romans' acquiring a barbarous tongue? Since the bargain with her brother, I had seen a point, and tried to gain more knowledge of the Khazar speech. "Good," I said now. "I too. For you. Thank you."

It was not a whole sentence, as hers was, but she understood and nodded and smiled, perhaps in some relief. Women of high blood know they are tokens in a game their menfolk play, passing from one house to another as suits the needs of the moment. This marriage, unusually, had been required of me no less than of her. We would both have to make the best of it.

The feast following the ceremony was lavish, in the nomad style: roast mutton and beef, a great plenty of fermented mare's milk and wine both, and a honeycomb which, by their ritual, Theodora and I shared in the hope that our union would be sweet.

Presently I took my bride to the tent appointed for the first night. My companions shouted the usual bawdy advice in Greek. The Khazars were also shouting. I had come to understand a couple of those words, too, from the women Ibouzeros Gliabanos had furnished me before yoking me to his sister. As best I could tell, they were saying the same sorts of things as Myakes and Theophilos and the rest.