The Emperor Awakes

by Alexis Konnaris

  ‘That was, as far as we know, the last time, apart from now, that the war between the Pallanians and the Ruinands was taking place. Since then neither the Pallanians nor the Ruinands have been involved in active warfare. But things have changed. We have seen a few events that tell us that the war has started again. The ancient rivalry between the two groups has been reawakened and this time it’s going to be the final reckoning. We really need to finish this now, once and for all. We will be assisted in our mission by powers that we can use, not born of magic, but technology. These powers are temporary and they only allow us to use certain devices to catch glimpses of the past by travelling back in time for short periods. It is a technology we cannot abuse as it has side effects, and possibly future consequences, if improperly used. We can only use these devices for so long, otherwise they will kill us. But we have no other way of defeating the Ruinands. However, these powers will not be a substitute for using our brains. The source of these powers is one of my family’s best-guarded secrets, which I will not reveal just yet. It’s better if you don’t have this information for your own safety and for the purposes of our mission of course, in the event that you are captured by the Ruinands. Once the mission is completed, we will put those powers to sleep permanently.’

  * * *

  Ariana turned to her granddaughter.

  ‘Katerina, open the cross around your neck.’

  ‘It opens? It has always looked perfectly solid to me.’

  Katerina looked down as if she had not seen it before, surprised at the thought that this simple cross that had graced her neck since she were twelve was hiding a secret. She was almost afraid to touch it, as if it had suddenly come to life, pulsating like a beating heart, as if it would leave burns on her skin.

  She unclasped it and almost dropped it on the floor, as if it had suddenly become too hot to handle, a glowing inferno on her skin, burning through all the way to her heart that felt like breaking and that would never mend. She suddenly felt very upset about the child that was lost all those years ago.

  Inside the cross was a chip the size and shape of a coin, but thicker, with a glowing amber stone in the middle of one of the facets. Elli continued.

  ‘Katerina, as the current holder of the cross, you will need to carry out this part of the mission. Today it is the twelfth of September. What you need to do has to be done on the fourteenth of September. You need to go to Constantinople. Once you arrive go and see old Dimitris who will help you with the task. You will need to go to the Ayia Sophia Church. You will have to stand on the Eastern side of the gallery and hold the chip when the sun is setting. As the light goes through the windows of the dome and hits the Eastern side, you will then see an inscription that will appear on the mosaic next to you. You will need to repeat this at dawn when a different inscription shall appear. Dimitris will help you interpret the inscriptions.’ Elli turned to Aristo. ‘Aristo you are to accompany Katerina to Constantinople.’

  The next day Elli arranged for the booking of two seats on the flight to Constantinople via Athens.

  CHAPTER 21

  Constantinople (Istanbul)

  Present day

  It was still daylight. The plane was ten minutes from landing in Constantinople and the city came into view. It spread beneath them in all its glory and both Katerina and Aristo held their breath as the familiar monuments jumped up at them seeking their attention and worship, most important and most beautiful amongst them the Church of Ayia Sophia.

  Their heart skipped a beat. They landed in the city of dreams in a thin veil of thorny rain. They checked into the Pera Hotel, in the former European Quarter of the City, on the Northern shores of the Golden Horn.

  Selected members of the Order of Vlachernae were covertly watching their every step, ready to intervene, if required. Katerina and Aristo found old Dimitris’ house in the shadow of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in the Fanari district.

  But three other men not of the Order were also watching their movements.

  Katerina was about to knock on the door when she noticed that it was open. Katerina and Aristo cautiously stepped inside. It was dark inside as all the shutters of the windows were closed and no lights were on. There was only faint light streaming in through the gaps in the shutters.

  Aristo tried a switch, but nothing. Upon entering the small sitting room, their eyes, that had started to adjust to the gloom, caught sight of a bundle near the fireplace and they approached for a closer look. It was the lifeless body of an old man. Katerina heard a noise coming from the far corner of the room and turned. She saw two eyes looking back at her. She went closer and peering into the semi-darkness, saw that it was a boy of about ten years old.

  ‘Aristo, over here.’

  A voice broke through the eerie silence. ‘Please don’t hurt me. I’ve done nothing wrong. I won’t say anything. I promise.’

  ‘We won’t harm you.’ Katerina said gently. They saw the boy’s shoulders starting to relax and the tension dissipating. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Marios.’

  ‘I am Katerina and this is Aristo.’ They both smiled kindly to the boy and he visibly relaxed. Katerina indicated the body. ‘Marios, is that Dimitris?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I help him with things. He sent me to get some bread. I came back and I was giving him his change when there was a gentle knock on the door. We had no reason to suspect anything was wrong, so I went to open the door. I hadn’t finished asking them what they wanted, when they pushed their way in and shoved me to the floor. They then went for Dimitris and strangled him.’

  Aristo wondered why they had let the boy live as he had seen them and could identify them. He could be a potential witness. Aristo’s unuttered question was answered next.

  ‘I crawled into the corner behind that chair and tried to stay as still and as quiet as I could. They must’ve forgotten about me. They searched the place, and left annoyed and cursing.’

  ‘Did they say anything before they killed Dimitris or after?

  ‘They got Dimitris by his shirt collar and shook him several times, saying “Where is it? Where is it?” Dimitris kept saying “I don’t know what you are talking about”, but they didn’t believe him. Then they got angry and killed him.’

  ‘Do you have a home, somewhere to go to? Your family must be worried about you.’

  ‘I live here. Dimitris was my grandfather. He taught me how to survive. I will be fine. Don’t worry about me. Please, no more questions. Listen. He asked me to give you a message. He said he was expecting two people called Aristo and Katerina and that if anything happened to him, I was to find you and tell you. He told me before … before … they …’ and he broke into tears, whimpering like a frightened animal.

  Katerina kneeled and wrapping her arms around him, held him close for the tears to subside. He put his head in her bosom and she felt him trembling. When the tears had dried up, he gently gestured for her to release him. And he gave them Dimitris’ message.

  Katerina and Aristo tried to absorb what the boy just told them, but they struggled and it was a while before they regained their composure.

  CHAPTER 22

  Constantinople (Istanbul)

  Present day

  The sun was shining. The giver of life moulded nature’s vibrant colours, its buoyant rays fun-jumping from molecule to molecule, from time rift to time rift, bringing each one to life, shifting the fabric of time and space, our lives and this earth’s that we call home which are but a moment in the fabric that is the universe.

  But the rust-coloured leaves had started to fall signalling the advent of autumn. They knew their short life had come to an end as part of the cycle of life. The soil’s hunger was demanding to be sated, was calling for the required sacrifice. The leaves had decided to enjoy the ride, their last glorious descend and go out with a bang, oblivious to breaking human and other animal hearts.

  They played their favourite game of hide and s
eek, skating on the air molecules as if on the first fresh snow. Their message was loud and clear. There would be no return to the jolly lazy days of summer, till the owners of the sad eyes mesmerised by their light dance survived the harshness of the winter days and the cosiness of the nights in front of a roaring fire.

  September was rushing in unencumbered by the wild expectations of summer brutally crashing them, leaving emotional ruins in its wake. Suddenly thunderclap broke out.

  The clouds grew goose bumps and shivered, and chattered and murmured and gossiped amongst themselves and pushed and bumped into each other, challenging each other into their eternal game. But the clouds soon tired of their demanding display and disappeared to have their daily rest.

  It was the fourteenth of September, the day of the Holy Cross. Katerina and Aristo were crossing the Ayia Sophia Square, oblivious to the occupying armies of tourists pillaging and desecrating the area’s treasures with photos, and with the excuse of enhancing their experience touching everything to extinction.

  The day was perfect, sunny but cool. Katerina and Aristo blended in with a crowd of Greek tourists who were entering the great Church. They stayed with them for a while, and then discreetly slipped away and climbed the stairs to the next level, all the time checking whether anyone suspicious-looking was following them.

  Their eyes were involuntarily drawn to the weightless dome, the beauty of which raised the eyes to the heavens with the spirit in tow, as intended. They knew it weighed a good few tonnes and were amazed at the achievement of the original architects, but especially the architect that came a few decades later and who was responsible for adapting the design, so that it would hold the dome from then on. It had worked beautifully for over fourteen centuries and counting, with a bit of maintenance of course.

  While waiting for the right time, they admired the church, Emperor Justinian’s greatest work, still standing proud after one thousand four hundred and sixty-five years to be exact, with all the earthquakes that had hit this area and the passage of time and pollution and all sorts of abuse, including the millions of people that had crossed its threshold over its lifetime.

  They heard a sound coming from the other side of the wall, like an echo. They were startled, and were instantly drawn away from their reverie. They tried to pinpoint the source of the sound, which felt as if it was getting closer and closer. The sudden hollering almost incapacitated them and they both fell to their knees on the floor, capping their ears and begging for salvation from the fiendish nightmare.

  At that moment the sun dipped into the sea. But a single ray escaped, as if not quite ready for the dive just yet, shot through the window and straight onto the Eastern wall, and as if it had a grievance, started to bore a hole trying to uncover what was underneath.

  Suddenly a monstrous creature appeared in front of them with the face and torso of a human and below the waist the body of a serpent. Aristo saw the mark of the Ruinands. A Ruinand in costume. In its hand was a dagger, the likes of which Katerina had never seen before, spitting fire, and with the fiery tongues licking and singing her hair. Katerina was terrified and in great agony. But she could not move.

  ‘Katerina. That’s a Ruinand. The whole serpent thing is a disguise. Beneath it is a human being. They certainly like to dress up.’

  She was frozen to the spot, her feet growing numb. A glowing amber ball came out of what appeared to be the Ruinand’s gaping mouth and landed where she was kneeling only a moment before. She struggled with her mind to send orders to her body through congealing blood and nerves that seemed to have been congested and unresponsive, like lifeless, atrophying limbs hardening and turning to stone. But somehow she found the strength to move but only slightly, yet that was enough, thank God.

  When she recovered her composure, and feeling brave, she shouted to Aristo. ‘It’s all an act. There’s nothing to worry about then.’

  Aristo dispelled any ideas of complacency Katerina may have acquired in the last few moments following her lucky escape. ‘It’s not a masked ball. They are as dangerous as hell. They undergo a rigorous military-style training regime before they are let loose out on an innocent world. Watch out.’

  The Ruinand was coming at them with relentless intensity and power. They successfully evaded possibly fatal after fatal blow, but they began to grow tired and Katerina came close to giving up. Aristo could not shield Katerina from all the blows. But she was tough herself and knew how to fight. She was struggling though to hold her own.

  She stood there with burn after burn marking her delicate body, and gradually losing hope and trust in her strength and stamina against this enemy. Katerina’s spirit was packing for the journey to the other world. Another blow would finish her off. Her eyes, shining brightly, stared into the heartless vacant eyes of their attacker.

  ‘Katerina, just go and watch what’s going on with the wall. I’ll try and keep the bastard occupied.’ Katerina lost no time, started to move further down the gallery. Meanwhile, the lonely ray was continuing its work.

  Gathering the last vestiges of what strength was left to her, she yanked the cross from her neck, opened it, took out the chip and held it into the ray. The chip began to heat up and burn her hand, but she held steadfast.

  She gazed at the wall, which was slowly revealing golden letters that were burned onto the cool stone, and she read and memorised, as the letters disappeared as fast as they appeared.

  “The tears run from the tropical depth to the middle sea and the land cries and the general takes the ancient throne for centuries now vacant, the one-man democratic city shines in agony and pleasure in equal measure, the place where three philosophers meet, and the golden statue absorbs and consumes the liquid of life around it, but spits it out, unsatisfied, and runs to the glowing horn by the sea, on a golden lamb upon which rides the brother of the matriarch and the matriarch herself … but then changes course for the city that carries the name of the gift to the baby Jesus, now totally destroyed, but chosen to join them all … But beware …”

  There it ended and the wall again went cold, from fire to ice in the blink of an eye. Then she turned towards the fight and she saw Aristo struggling to hold the beast. She had an inspiration.

  ‘Aristo what’s their weak spot?’

  They were human after all. Aristo tried for the groin, but failed. There was too much at stake here including Katerina’s life. Aristo gathered his remaining strength. He took off his shirt and then his belt. He covered the belt and used it as a lasso. He swung it and trapped the fiery dagger and pulled hard whilst at the same time Katerina did not stand idle.

  She had already quietly positioned herself to Aristo’s right and the moment the belt made contact with the dagger she brought the metal pole down on the Ruinand’s wrist. The Ruinand released the dagger and it clattered to the floor. Aristo then noticed the scaffolding behind the Ruinand and to his right and tried to push him towards it. He signalled to Katerina and looked at the scaffolding.

  She realised his intention and she immediately moved into the shadows and started to loosen the ropes holding a metal platform on the side of the scaffolding. At the moment that the Ruinand was below the platform she let go and the metal platform crashed into the Ruinand and flattened him. The disfigured creature screeched and wailed and howled for a while and then suddenly any sign of movement ceased. Aristo and Katerina waited with baited breath, not daring to move.

  After a couple of minutes they went closer, but still nothing. Suddenly there was a noise like the burning of paper and dry wood. The Ruinand had suddenly consumed itself and disappeared in a mountain of ash and salt that remained scattered on the ground, accumulated in tiny neat piles at their feet. A sudden burst of wind simply blew the remains away into the ether.

  Aristo turned to Katerina and his eyes asked the question before he spoke it.

  ‘Did you get it?’

  ‘It was moving too fast. I’m sorry, Aristo.’

  For a moment Aristo was ready to shout at her
, but saw the beginnings of a smile on her face and held back. Katerina was relieved to see that he realised she was teasing him. She took her mobile phone out of her pocket and held it in his face. His eyes widened in complicit surprise and then admiration.

  ‘It was lucky I charged it last night and, as a last minute thought, threw it in my pocket on our way out of the hotel room.’

  ‘You are not just a pretty face. Well done. Let’s go. I need a coffee.’

  CHAPTER 23

  Constantinople (Istanbul)

  Present day

  Exhausted, they left Ayia Sophia for a deserved rest before the next part of their task early the next day. They speculated on the inscription, but decided to wait and see the second part on the next day at dawn.

  As they exited the church, it was dark and chilly, and they sought a cosy place for refuge. They walked towards the Topkapi and the neighbourhood next to the Golden Horn and they sat at a coffee shop in one of the best-preserved pedestrianized alleys of the Old City. They called over the owner and ordered a strong Turkish coffee each and tried to regain their strength.

  ‘What on earth was that thing?’

  ‘That was a Murtif, the helper, one of the most dangerous of the Ruinand fighters.’

  ‘If that’s the helper, I don’t think I want to see one of the Ruinands themselves and what they are capable of, but I’m afraid I will have to before too soon, won’t I?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. We are on a course with no return to complete this mission and encountering Ruinands at some point is inevitable.’