The Walls of Byzantium tmc-1

by James Heneage

  ‘I’m sorry. What did you say?’

  ‘I merely remarked that you ride well.’

  This was the first compliment Damian had paid her and she coloured with pleasure. ‘Thank you,’ she said simply. ‘As do you.’

  Damian nodded. ‘Of course,’ he continued, gesturing at Anna’s palfrey, ‘not to ride such a horse well would be difficult. It’s one of our best.’

  Anna snorted. She looked around her. Behind were four boys of about her age, all big and blond. One had his head thrown back in laughter.

  ‘Are all these horses bred by your family?’

  Damian followed her gaze, turning in his saddle. ‘Yes, and they are all fine, obedient horses, well trained. Except that one.’

  Anna looked in the direction of his pointing figure and saw a magnificent horse of some size, which looked temperamental but seemed to be well controlled. Her gaze rested for a moment on the rider. He was the one that had been laughing. He was fair, blue-eyed and strikingly handsome. For a moment, their eyes met. He smiled.

  ‘That was the horse that nearly killed me,’ Damian was saying with feeling. ‘I’d like to see it dead but my father judges it will fetch a high price one day.’

  ‘Dead?’ said Alexis. ‘But it’s beautiful!’

  Damian reined in his horse. He was staring darkly at Alexis. ‘Laskaris, do you think you’ve come far enough? Might you not be needed in Mistra for something?’

  The river where they were to part was over a mile away.

  Alexis began to reply but stopped when Anna shot him a glance. She looked back at Damian.

  ‘Alexis was to accompany me to the river, lord. However, you’re right. He might find better entertainment in Mistra.’

  Damian scowled and turned his horse. He nodded at Alexis and rode on.

  Brother and sister looked at each other. Anna pressed her lips together. She would not cry. ‘Goodbye, Alexis.’

  ‘Anna, I can continue …’

  ‘No. Just go. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at the wedding.’

  She moved her horse to stand against his. She leant forward and kissed him on the forehead. He felt a tear on his cheek.

  ‘Goodbye, Alexis.’

  Luke was enjoying the ride. He’d never visited Mistra before, nor the great castle at Geraki where they’d broken their outward journey and were to sleep again that night.

  Most of all, though, he was overjoyed to be riding Eskalon, as he’d named the stallion.

  When he’d heard that the horse was to be spared, Luke had ridden out to the stud see him. On arrival, he’d banged on Arsenius’s door.

  ‘Luke … she made me say it!’

  Luke was bewildered. ‘No, Arsenius. I’m not here about that. The stallion. You’ve not done anything to him, have you?’

  The man shook his head, too relieved to speak.

  ‘Good! Where is he?’

  And Luke had found the stallion and thought about little else since.

  Over the next few weeks, an extraordinary bond had developed between horse and boy, one that in all his years Arsenius had never witnessed, even with Luke. Released from his Varangian training, Luke had spent every available day with the stallion, talking to it, cajoling it, teaching it, so that in time it seemed that they thought as one. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, his admiration for the horse turned into something like love.

  Now Luke was worried. Damian had only emerged from his sick bed six months previously, first learning how to walk again, then ride. And it was out riding that Luke had first seen him. It had been on the road from Sikia to Monemvasia and Luke was enjoying the power of Eskalon as he galloped past the vineyards. Up ahead he could see two riders coming towards him, moving slowly. Only when it was too late to turn back, did Luke realise that one of them was Damian.

  Luke remembered the look of pure hatred that he’d thrown at him as he’d passed.

  Now he’d seen that look again when Damian had turned to point Eskalon out to his new bride.

  As the evening shadows began to lengthen around the great walls of the castle of Geraki, the little party wound their way up the path to the fortress. The track was narrow and fell away steeply to their left, and the horses had to pick their way around small rockfalls.

  Luke and his three friends had moved to the front of the convoy to ensure that the path was firm ahead, and Anna rode directly behind, leaning slightly forward on her horse to ease its climb.

  They had just rounded a corner and Luke was bent over Eskalon’s neck, studying what looked like some loose earth in the road, when he heard the cry behind him.

  He spun round in his saddle to see a long flash of gold and red slither behind a boulder and Anna’s palfrey rear, its eyes rolling in terror.

  Had the snake bitten it?

  Then there was no doubt. In the next instant, the horse veered off the path and hurtled down the slope, snorting in pain, its haunches scattering scree and bush as it fell. Anna was hanging on to its neck for dear life.

  Luke reacted instantly. He spurred Eskalon after her, throwing his weight backwards to balance the load. He heard shouts of alarm from behind him.

  Ahead, Anna had reached the bottom of the slope still clinging to her horse and was now galloping across the plain in the direction of a steep gulley. He could see her desperately trying to rein in the palfrey but the horse was not slowing.

  Reaching the flat, Luke now dug his heels into Eskalon’s sides and the horse bounded forward. He leant forward to whisper into his ear and felt the horse move faster. The gap between the horses was narrowing but the gulley was approaching fast and Luke feared how the young palfrey would react to it.

  How am I to stop you?

  They were now ten paces behind and Luke slid his whole body on to Eskalon’s side, his arm wrapped around his neck.

  Anna’s hair was in front of him, vivid against the yellow grass of the plain.

  ‘Lean back!’ he shouted as Eskalon drew alongside her horse.

  Closer. Closer.

  Then he jumped.

  Throwing himself at the palfrey’s neck, he used his weight and the friction of his heels ploughing through the ground to slow the horse.

  The gulley was no more than twenty paces ahead and closing fast but the palfrey wouldn’t stop.

  But Eskalon knew what to do. The big stallion, free of Luke’s weight, put on one last burst of speed, pushing its nose in front of the palfrey and then veering suddenly to the right. The smaller horse banked sharply and then ground to a halt, falling to its knees in the movement.

  Anna rolled off the horse and fell to the ground. Her horse picked itself up, whinnying in pain, and began to limp away.

  Luke stood there, covered in dust and horse sweat, his heart hammering. He was bleeding slightly from one of his arms. Collecting himself, he walked over to Anna and knelt beside her, unsure how best to comfort her.

  For Anna, a dam seemed to break. All of the worry and tension of the last weeks broke over her like a wall of water and she threw herself into Luke’s arms. ‘Thank you,’ she managed between breaths. ‘I think you saved my life.’

  Luke didn’t know how to reply. Her tears were wet against his shoulder. He just held her.

  She drew back, tears smudging the dust on her face. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Luke,’ answered Luke. ‘Luke Magoris.’

  Anna looked into a face that had strength and honesty etched into its bones, a face so different from her betrothed’s. She smiled.

  ‘Thank you, Luke Magoris. I won’t forget this.’

  They both got to their feet, Anna patting the dust from her riding habit. Luke went over to the palfrey, which was placidly pulling clumps of grass from the ground. He knelt beside it, picked up a leg and tested it, talking gently to the animal as he did so.

  ‘I fear it’s lame, lady,’ he said over his shoulder, replacing the leg on the ground and patting the horse’s neck. ‘Whether from the snake-bite or forcing it to
stop is hard to tell.’

  Anna nodded. She was watching Luke in fascination. The horse seemed to understand what he said. She had never seen anyone do what he’d done. She heard a shout and looked up to see Damian cantering towards her. Two guards rode behind him.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Luke here saved my life.’

  Damian looked thunderous. ‘Saved your life?’ he snapped. ‘He could have got you killed!’

  Anna didn’t understand. ‘But surely you saw what happened? He endangered his life …’

  But Damian was in no mood for listening. ‘What I saw’, he hissed, swinging round to face Luke, ‘was yet another reckless, stupid act from someone who seems intent upon causing damage to our property. Look at that horse!’ He pointed towards the palfrey, which was limping its way over to a new patch of grass. ‘That horse is worth thousands! Look at it now!’

  Anna felt her anger rising. ‘I had thought, sir, that the palfrey was your gift to me? It would seem that you place greater value on the welfare of your horses than your intended wife.’

  Damian glared at her, momentarily lost for words.

  ‘It was not Luke’s fault,’ she said, seizing the advantage. ‘If the horse is lame, it happened when it collided with the stallion and he wasn’t even on its back.’

  An unpleasant look had entered Damian’s eyes. ‘Yes, indeed,’ he said. ‘It was the horse’s fault. As I’ve always maintained, the horse is dangerous and should be destroyed.’

  He turned to a guard. ‘See to it,’ he said.

  Luke stepped in front of Eskalon. ‘If you want to kill this horse,’ he said quietly, ‘you’ll have to kill me first.’

  Anna walked over to stand next to him. She looked Damian straight in the eye. ‘And if you kill this man, you will have to explain to your father and mine, not to mention the Despot, why you allowed the fate of a horse to rupture an alliance so painstakingly negotiated between our two families.’

  Damian looked wildly from one to the other. He knew it was over. He was trapped.

  He turned to the guards. ‘Take him back to Monemvasia,’ he said, pointing at Luke. ‘And find the lady a new mount!’ Then he wheeled his horse and cantered back towards the castle.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MONEMVASIA, SPRING 1394

  On the following evening, Luke was surprised to find himself amongst the liveried grooms standing at the gates to Monemvasia, awaiting the arrival of the Mamonas heir and his bethrothed.

  The sun was making its slow descent to meet the hills above Gefira and shining directly into his eyes, making it difficult for him to see much beyond the first bend of the road that wound its way up from the port to the city gate.

  Next to him stood his father, dressed in full Varangian garb. He looked at the corselet of gilded scales, the red tunic, the dark blue chlamys, clasped on the right shoulder and at the great two-handed axe that rested against his father’s side and he wished he’d never ridden out to the stud that day. But then, would he have found Eskalon?

  In front sat Zoe on a white palfrey whose caparison embroidered with black castles shifted against its rump as it moved. He hadn’t seen her since the Archon had passed sentence on him. He’d heard she’d been abroad, visiting the Mamonas businesses. Damian, still an invalid, had been left behind.

  Luke thought of the previous evening when he’d come to the palace between two guards, neither of whom was quite certain what to do with him.

  They’d asked at the entrance for Pavlos Mamonas, only to be told that he was discussing the forthcoming wedding with the Metropolitan who had just arrived from the capital. Instead, Zoe had appeared.

  She’d changed. The voluptuousness that had always seemed imminent had now settled on her like a rich mantle. How dramatically different, thought Luke, to Anna’s fair loveliness. They were as night and day and they were to live together under the same roof.

  Zoe had dismissed the guards and they’d walked together into the palace. She’d given him wine and he’d been so surprised that he’d not heard her first words.

  ‘I asked you how the ride back was, Luke,’ Zoe was saying. ‘Hardly original, I know, but one has to start a conversation somewhere, especially when it’s been so long since the last one.’

  Luke didn’t answer. However long ago the last meeting, he still remembered the part Zoe had played in it.

  Then she smiled again. ‘It seems my family is getting practised at doing you wrong, Luke,’ she said. ‘First there was the business with the stallion and now this.’

  Luke was watching her closely. Was this the real Zoe?

  ‘From what I’ve heard,’ she went on, ‘it would appear that my brother’s intended bride owes you her life.’

  She paused. ‘I suppose you must hate me, Luke, after the lies I told my father.’

  Luke remained silent.

  ‘Do you know why I lied?’ She turned away from him to look out of a window. ‘If you hadn’t been blamed for what happened, my brother would have fallen even further in my father’s estimation. Pavlos Mamonas may love his son but he thinks little of his judgement. And judgement in business is all, Luke, especially if you are to run it.’

  Luke had known this girl since birth, known her capacity to lie. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said quietly to her back. ‘You lied because you didn’t want the truth to get out. You encouraged Damian to enter that ring because you knew he might be hurt.’

  She spun around, new colour in her cheeks. ‘You’d dare to suggest I would deliberately put my brother in harm’s way! Why would I do that?’

  Luke studied her for several moments. ‘You know why. And it worked.’

  That had been last night. Now, ahead of them on the road, the flags of the Laskaris and Mamonas families had emerged from the bend, borne aloft by two mounted men-at-arms. Behind them rode a third soldier carrying the flag of the Palaiologoi. Then Luke saw Anna riding beside Damian, her expression a mask of self-control. Damian had his eyes fixed on Luke and he looked murderous.

  Zoe stepped forward to greet Anna, but before she could do so, Damian kicked his horse and stopped in front of his sister. He leant forward in his saddle. ‘What is he doing here?’ he hissed, pointing at Luke.

  Zoe ignored the question. ‘Welcome, brother. Our father wishes to see you at the palace. Immediately.’

  Damian looked thunderstruck.

  ‘Immediately,’ repeated Zoe quietly.

  There was a moment’s pause; then, with a grunt, Damian kicked his horse and rode under the gate of the city.

  Zoe looked around at the staring faces and smiled. She stepped forward to help Anna dismount while Luke took her horse’s reins.

  When Anna was on the ground, she embraced her. ‘Anna, welcome. I have been so excited to meet you.’

  Anna was unprepared for such a greeting. She leant forward to receive a kiss on each cheek. Then Zoe stepped back, still holding Anna’s hands.

  ‘You’re far more beautiful than the portrait they sent us,’ she smiled. ‘Mind you, that was six months ago and I dare say we all change so fast at our age.’

  Then she put her arm through Anna’s, turned and took her into Monemvasia.

  Later, in the throne room, Pavlos Mamonas was sitting and glaring at his son. His expression was grim. Next to him stood Zoe, her hand on the back of the throne.

  ‘Can you explain to me,’ he said at last, ‘what persuaded you to behave like a spoilt schoolboy on the plain before Geraki?’

  ‘Father-’

  ‘Don’t!’ snapped the Archon, raising his hand. He rose and began to pace up and down on the veined marble that surrounded the dais, his leather shoes squeaking as he turned.

  He stopped in front of Damian. ‘Let me explain to you, as simply as I am able, what this alliance means to our family.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Not long ago, this Sultan’s father won a great victory at Kosovo against the Serbians.’ The Archon resumed his pacing. ‘Why was that important
?’ he asked. ‘Because it meant that our empire was finally surrounded and that it was only a matter of time before it fell to the Turk. It may happen next year or in ten years, but fall it will.’

  Mamonas paused again and looked at his son. Damian’s leg had begun to ache and he wanted to sit down.

  ‘When I die, Damian, you will inherit a trading empire that stretches across the world, one that I have nurtured by knowing whom to back. And right now, if we want to go on selling wine to the English, silk to the Italians and arms to the Turks, we would be foolish not to back Suleyman, who will be the next sultan. So whatever he wants us to do, we will do.’ Mamonas took a pace towards his son. ‘And what he wants very much at the moment, Damian, is for you to marry Anna Laskaris.’

  ‘But why is that so vital to his plans?’ Damian asked.

  ‘Because,’ said his father with some exasperation because they’d had this conversation before, ‘Suleyman wishes to take Constantinople. To do that, he will need to know that no help will come from the rest of the Empire. And the rest of the Empire these days, Damian, is the Despotate of Mistra and the fleet that resides in our ports here in Monemvasia. Suleyman wants new trust between the cities of Mistra and Monemvasia. This marriage will achieve that.’

  Damian was silent. He glanced at a nearby chair and wondered if he dare sit in it. He looked at Zoe, poised at the right hand of their father. ‘I am well enough to travel,’ he said. ‘You should send me abroad as you did Zoe. I need to learn things.’

  Pavlos Mamonas sighed. He walked over to his son. ‘Perhaps, Damian. But for now, just go and be nice to your wife.’

  Damian limped out, leaving silence behind him. Something important had been said and Pavlos Mamonas and his daughter both knew it.

  It was Pavlos who spoke first. ‘You always knew it would be thus,’ he said quietly. ‘Damian is my son. He must inherit.’

  Zoe said, ‘So why did you bother to send me away if you always intended to give it all to him?’

  Her father didn’t answer at first. Then he said, ‘He is my son. He must inherit.’

  ‘But I am better qualified.’