The Emperor Awakes

by Alexis Konnaris

  ‘We are very closely watched. We have to be even more careful. That was a close call. The only way they could have known where we were is if they had followed us. They are very good at blending in with the shadows.’

  Privately Aristo knew they must have been watched by members of the Order and wondered why they had not intervened to help them. Had they been incapacitated or even killed by Ruinands or was there another reason, a traitor in their midst, perhaps?

  A comfortable silence descended and they both breathed in the life of the street and were briefly envious of a simple life. In their minds they let themselves be transported to their beloved place, be it Limassol or Athens or Constantinople or even Mount Ellothon, Aristo’s mother’s private island retreat and the Order’s secret base and refuge, a magical place.

  Lost in his thoughts, Aristo almost didn’t, at first, notice the person that walked briskly past them, but it registered in the corner of his eye. Three seconds later, when it had sunk in, he did a double-take. Was that Iraklios passing by? It couldn’t have been him surely, could it? He let the thought go and turned to Katerina.

  ‘Let’s go back to the hotel and get a rest. Remember we need it and we need to get up early tomorrow morning and be at the church before dawn.’

  They paid the bill and left. It was a pleasant barmy evening. They decided to walk the short distance to the Pera Quarter.

  CHAPTER 24

  Constantinople (Istanbul)

  Present day

  The next morning just before dawn, as they were making their way back to the church, a cool breeze suddenly rode through the tree-lined street, and a flock of birds took flight, rising into the sky as a black cloud carrying the sound of screaming flutter.

  A crow flying above came too close, as if making a dive for them and Katerina’s superstition reared its ugly head. She shivered. That was an ominous sign, she thought.

  As they approached the church they noticed a crowd gathering on the square, outside the open gates leading to the church courtyard and waiting to go inside. Katerina and Aristo remembered that they had been told at the hotel about this.

  It was one of those very rare days that Ayia Sophia was opening very early before dawn. They could not waste time and they decided to use another way into the church.

  They tactfully circumvented the waiting group and quietly passed through the gates into the courtyard without being noticed and walked slowly round the Northern side of Ayia Sophia searching for a way in.

  They had reached the North-Eastern corner of the church without incident when they noticed a small door recessed into the wall. They breathed a sigh of relief when they found it unlocked.

  Entering the cool environs of the church, they were thankful to escape the rising heat and humidity outside. They made their way to the anointed place as the previous day and stood there calmly waiting whilst they pretended to be admiring the architecture and made the occasional remark.

  That relaxed posture contrasted with the rife anticipation running rampant within. To anyone passing by the face they projected was one of serious but dumb tourists.

  Katerina had already opened the cross and was holding the chip in her palm.

  Aristo saw it was time and hissed. ‘OK. Now.’

  Katerina held the chip up high as the first ray came through and the chip caught the light again throwing it in all directions. Nobody else seemed to have noticed. Thankfully they were alone up there in the Eastern gallery. The group they saw waiting outside was already inside the church and their ears rang with the echo of the group members’ chatter as they admired the huge dome.

  The ray got to work and began to create a mesmerising painting of such vibrancy that Aristo and Katerina thought they could step into it. The figures in it looked as if they would turn and speak to them and touch them.

  To their surprise, a voice called to them, inviting them into that magic scene. Instinctively they looked back to see if anyone was watching and were relieved to see no-one. They recovered quickly, as they realised they might be running out of time.

  They found themselves on what Aristo thought looked like Mount Ellothon, but it was not. It was a strange place, beautiful one time and ugly the next. In front of them stood what looked like a building made out of crystal and tanzanite, shining very bright and almost blinding them.

  All around them nightingales were singing, interspersed with the ear-splitting cries of crows and the gentle sounds of owls. And then they saw it. An inscription on the side of the building:

  “The king is asleep and waiting to be awakened. His eternal partner and mother of his child is lying dismembered. Their child is lost. They dream of reunification with each other and with their beloved child.”

  As Aristo and Katerina stood there the scene was surrendering layer after layer, like an animal shedding its skin in fast motion, revealing underneath the most wondrous images they had ever seen; they were like three-dimensional, holographic reels moving across the sky. It was mesmerising, hypnotic. They forgot their reality outside.

  * * *

  The sun shone brightly when they exited the church. It felt as if they had been away for hours, but a quick glance at the watch told them that it had only been about thirty minutes. They searched for shade to sit and talk about what they had just witnessed, all the while checking surreptitiously in all directions for anything suspicious. Aristo was first to recover.

  ‘Am I still dreaming or are we back? I still feel as if I am partly in that scene and partly in our reality. It’s very disconcerting.’

  ‘I am trying to get that scene out of my mind as well, but I can’t.’

  Katerina was still dazed from her experience. It just felt so real. She could still feel the dew on her cheeks and the heat of the sun on her face. Her hair felt as if they had been burnt at the tips by a non-existent fire and were still smoking. Was there a part of the scene that had fire in it and which they had forgotten? And on top of that they couldn’t make sense of what they saw. Katerina turned to Aristo to say something, but it stayed on her lips and she stopped and stared at Aristo.

  Small plumes of smoke were rising from his hair too. She wanted to turn away from his face, but couldn’t help staring. His face was drenched in sweat, a strange sweat the likes of which she had never seen before. It was as if Aristo’s face was melting from some sort of acid attack.

  Aristo’s eyes had flames in them. The whole scene that they had just witnessed was there in his eyes, but it was a reverse reflection. The whole scene was on fire, and the edifice they saw was crumbling in an almighty heap of ash and dust and dark smoke.

  And then it erupted into beautiful fireworks that lit up the sky. And there were faces there, tortured faces burnished on her memory as if by hot iron, faces that she could not forget, would not forget, would not be allowed to forget.

  She could see those faces becoming her worst nightmares when she would be surrendering herself to the arms of Orpheus for a much needed rest at the end of the day, but also behind her eyes when she would be awake, during the darkest night and the brightest day for a long time to come. Aristo’s face suddenly turned a bright purple and he collapsed onto the baking-hot pavement.

  ‘I feel … I feel …’ Aristo could not say it.

  ‘My God, Aristo, what’s wrong?’

  ‘What’s happening to me? My eyes … my eyes … they’re burning. I cannot see … Katerina, help me. Get me some water, please.’

  She looked around her and spotted the working fountain. She ran like a possessed madwoman, and came back with her now damp scarf. She busied herself with cooling Aristo’s face. She kept rushing back and forth to the fountain. In a surreal way, Aristo felt he was experiencing this torment both as himself and at the same time outside himself as a bystander witnessing the scene.

  A part of him could hear and feel Katerina trying desperately to give him some relief and the other part was watching her do so. Had he died and his soul had been released or had his soul split and a par
t of it floated above his tortured body?

  He was soaking wet in sweat and water. The sweat came out in huge waves, unrelenting, as if from an inexhaustible source. It kept gushing up to the surface of his skin, and running down his face and his body, a relentless torrent, like a mighty river bursting its banks and setting a route straight for its delta and the mighty ocean its waters yearned to call home.

  His skin then started to come out in bright red pimples and fistulas. Passers-by spared him one look and, terrified, quickened their step, almost breaking into a run, to get away from this ‘thing’ that appeared to have some kind of terrible plague, from this unidentified creature that escaped from a long bygone era, the Jurassic, perhaps. The passers-by feared contagion. They could not get away from Aristo and Katerina fast enough.

  Katerina drenched Aristo’s face repeatedly, but any relief was short-lived. He kept bringing his hands to his face to shade his eyes, as if from a vision that was being branded on his eyes, a terrible vision that would not go away, until he understood. Otherwise there would be no respite and no salvation.

  Slowly Katerina noticed Aristo calming down. The panic was gone. The pain was lessening. His face was already shedding its blistery layers and was returning to normal.

  After a while she knew the nightmare had passed. He was coming round. They were both a bit bashed and bruised, but alive and all the visible horrific injuries and unexplained phenomena were gone. Only some superficial signs of their ordeal remained to give a healthy glow and colour to their skin. Aristo got up.

  ‘I think we’ve done all we could here for the moment. We need to talk to Giorgos about the passage we got. Maybe he has some ideas. Let’s avoid calls and emails, though. You never know. Both may be closely monitored. Only the company’s network and the ones at our homes are safe to be used for access. Let’s get back to Limassol.’

  CHAPTER 25

  Limassol, Cyprus

  Present day

  Katerina and Aristo landed at Larnaca International Airport at four in the afternoon on the same day. A car was waiting for them outside. They had called Giorgos on his mobile on their way to Limassol. They arranged to meet at Elli’s house, so that she could be there as well. An hour later they were sitting in the library of Elli’s house.

  ‘I can see from the bruises you are both sporting that it wasn’t straightforward.’ Elli said, looking at Katerina and Aristo. Her cool exterior belied her shock at their appearance. Aristo sensed his mother’s worry.

  ‘No, it wasn’t. It looks worse than it actually is. We had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of one of the Ruinand helpers, a Muftir. We dispatched him with only a slight difficulty. Mother, we are very closely watched. We have to increase our security measures. We took extreme precautions and still they were there at the exact time that the inscription began to appear. They knew. Mother, I suspect we may have a spy, an insider.’

  ‘Surely, you are not suspecting anyone who attended the meeting at Ariana’s.’

  ‘No, but there must be someone else who has access to us and the company, someone working for us, perhaps. We need to have our offices and homes checked for bugs and from now on we need to be careful what we say and where.’

  ‘Aristo, let’s adjourn for a while and have the house checked. If it is bugged and they are listening right now, they will probably know we are onto them. But we cannot change that now.’ Elli picked up her secure mobile and called her security chief.

  ‘Andreas, I’ve got a job for you. I want the following checked for bugs: the Valchern building and my home, the homes of Aristo, Iraklios, Katerina, Ariana, that’s Katerina’s grandmother, the home of Katerina’s parents and Vasilis’. I want it to be done today, as soon as possible. I’ll call them and tell them to expect you. I want you to do it discreetly and I want you to start from my house. Shall I expect you in the next half hour?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Symitzis. No problem.’

  ‘Excellent. See you then.’ Elli hung up. She turned to the assembled group.

  ‘Let me arrange for some coffee, tea and a snack. Whatever rubbish you’ve had on the plane you must be famished. Mrs Manto.’ Mrs Manto was at the door within five seconds.

  ‘Could you please arrange for coffee, tea and snacks?’

  ‘Of course, it will be a pleasure.’

  ‘Could you please leave them outside on the veranda? We’ll be in the garden for a short stroll. Thanks, Mrs Manto.’

  Mrs Manto took a look at Aristo and Katerina. ‘My goodness you must have not eaten a single thing for the last two days. You seem to have lost weight. You need fattening up. I’ll see what I can do.’ With that she was off to the kitchen. Aristo started to laugh.

  ‘We know what snack means to Mrs Manto. Thank God you didn’t say a meal, mother. That would’ve been scary, like something out of the kitchens of Henry VIII at Hampton Court Palace.’

  Elli decided to round them all up to continue their discussion outside. ‘Come on everybody. Let’s continue our discussion in the garden until the house has been checked. I’m be fairly sure there will be no bugs there, especially next to the fountains and my little weir.’

  They all got up and went together into the garden. Once they reached the safe spot, Elli stopped and the others did, too.

  * * *

  Within the hour the house had been checked for bugs and given the all-clear. Elli led them all back inside and into the library.

  ‘Aristo, what have you got?’ Elli pressed a button and the blinds came down bathing them in almost total darkness apart from a few of subtle lights on the walls.

  Aristo connected Katerina’s mobile to the projector and pressed play. The wall opposite them came to life with the video clip from Ayia Sophia. After it ended, Aristo turned to Giorgos.

  ‘Giorgos we need your help here. It clearly refers to a place. Any ideas?’

  Giorgos was silent for a while, deep in thought.

  ‘I was thinking about that as I was watching it. I would guess that the place referred to is Athens. You see during the time of Pericles, only in name was Athens a democracy. In reality it was the rule of one man, Pericles.’

  Elli was reading from the Book of the Pallanians and she looked up. ‘I believe Giorgos is right. It makes sense. In this book it says that the next test will be a philosophical one, a series of dialogues.’

  Giorgos, excited, started to speak. ‘Yes, it must be Athens then. And it says in the passage “where the three philosophers meet”. The only place I can think of that fits that description is the ancient cemetery of Keramikos where the tombs of Plato, Aristotle and Socrates are located next to one another. These must be the three philosophers it refers to.’

  Katerina, silent till now, looked at her brother. ‘You are a genius. We should go there now. What are we waiting for?’

  Giorgos raised a quizzical brow. ‘We?’

  ‘Yes, we. I’m coming with you.’

  ‘I think you are getting a taste for adventures.’

  Katerina smiled. ‘I certainly am.’

  They all looked at Elli.

  Yes. Aristo and Giorgos, you should go there and see where that leads us.’

  ‘Katerina interrupted. ‘Not me? Elli, please.’

  ‘No, I want you to stay here. I’ve got something else in mind for you. Aristo, I know your bag is packed, but you’ll need to refresh its contents. Giorgos, go and pack. I’ll arrange for tickets for you both on tomorrow morning’s flight to Athens. We’ll discuss the second part of the inscription another time. Think about it and we’ll meet later. I want to hear your thoughts on it. But first let’s go and enjoy Mrs Manto’s spread. She will be offended if we don’t. Personally, I wouldn’t mind a bite. I haven’t eaten anything all day.’

  CHAPTER 26

  Athens, Greece

  Present day

  Under the fiery Mediterranean sun, in a quiet corner of the Athenian archaeological trail, Giorgos and Aristo were on their way to the ancient Keramikos cemetery and the tombs o
f the three philosophers, Plato, Aristotle and Socrates.

  They reached the spot and stood there looking at the three tombs in awe of the small space that they occupied compared to their occupants’ impact on the world.

  Aristo remembered his mother’s exact words. “My son, according to the Book of the Pallanians, this is the ancient language of the Pallanians who were numerous and flourished before they were crushed in the great last battle that destroyed the temple of knowledge and wisdom and had to go underground. But a selected few kept the flame of their culture and knowledge alive over the centuries. Plato was a member and so were Aristotle, Socrates and Pericles.

  “Through that special implant in your palm you now have the ability to read this long-forgotten language. But to understand it you don’t just read it. You use your mind, you feel its meaning, it gets into your head and speaks to you. There are always multiple meanings underneath. Each one of us sees something different. What you do is this: you close your mind to all outside influences and corporeal things, you place your hand on the inscription and trace the words with your fingers. Just feel the words speaking to you.”

  Aristo had a vision of his mother being a crazy medium goading him on to feel and see spirits and dead people and talk to them. Aristo immediately dismissed the idea from his mind.

  ‘Giorgos, I think this is the time to use one of those powers my mother told us about. There must be something on these tombs that we are supposed to find out. Let’s start from Plato’s. It is the first one here. But he was in a way the one that blazed the way. Socrates was his teacher, but left nothing in writing. All we know about Socrates, his philosophy and his methods, comes from what Plato wrote. There is no other proof that Socrates said any of those things himself.

  ‘There are some people who say he was Plato’s invention at least as far as his philosophy, his ideas and his dialectic method are concerned. A person with that name did exist at that time in Athens.’ Aristo paused. ‘And to complete the great trio of ancient Greek philosophers, and appearing as a roughly seamless generational succession, was Aristotle who was Plato’s student.’