Justinian

by Harry Turtledove

  "Uh-" He was new, all right.

  "Mother of God!" I scrambled to my feet. "He's going to be angry enough to eat us all without salt." John- Theophanes- whoever he was- started back toward the door. "Wait," I told him. "I'll take care of it. He isn't so likely to bite my head off."

  Bang! Bang! Bang! From the racket out there, I wondered if Justinian had ordered whoever he had with him to break down the doors. "Open up in there, in the name of the Emperor!" someone shouted: not a voice I knew.

  "I'm coming, I'm coming!" I shouted back. When I got to the doors, I slid the bar out of the brackets to either side of them and leaned it against the wall. Then I pulled the doors wide. "Come in, Emp-" I began.

  A couple of dozen men stood out there. Several of them were holding torches. All of them but a couple of black-robed monks were holding swords. At their head was a tall, wide-faced fellow in a filthy tunic whose tangled beard reached halfway to his waist. After a couple of heartbeats standing there gaping, I recognized Leontios.

  I was too startled to draw my own sword right away. That probably saved my life. Instead of running me through, the way they would have if I'd had a blade in my hand, Leontios and the gang of bully boys he'd scraped together just jumped on me and knocked me down. I tried to fight back, but they started pounding my head on the floor. After that, my arms and legs didn't want to do what I told 'em. They trussed me up like a hog they didn't plan on roasting right that minute.

  The racket made the rest of the excubitores come running out to see what was going on. One of the monks shouted, "Many years to the Emperor Leontios!"

  "Treason!" John (or was it Theophanes?) cried. He did yank out his sword, and rushed at the monk. A couple of guardsmen followed him. Most of them, though, only stood there. They weren't about to die for Justinian. John and his comrades did die, and in a hurry, too. My heart sank, and I hadn't thought it could go any lower.

  "Now what, Emperor?" one of Leontios's henchmen asked. Hearing that title used for anybody but Justinian made my blood boil. I tried to break loose, but no luck. Whoever had tied me up, he knew what he was doing.

  Leontios didn't answer for himself. One of the monks spoke up for him: "Now we open up the prison cells where the tyrant has hidden away so many good soldiers and noblemen for so long. With them free, we'll have the beginnings of a decent little army of our own- and one that won't be any too fond of Justinian."

  They found the keys to the cells on their own, and didn't have to ask me where they were. I lay there with my hands and feet getting numb and thanked God for that. If they'd put the edge of a sword up against my throat- I don't think I would have betrayed Justinian, but who can know something like that for sure? And if I didn't, well, I wouldn't be sitting here talking with you now, Brother Elpidios.

  Leontios's men were laughing and joking when they went downstairs to set the prisoners free. Leontios and the two monks, along with some of his ruffians, stayed in that front hall. He spoke to one of the monks: "Paul, I know you always told me the stars said I'd be Emperor one day. I never believed it. I couldn't believe it. I thought I'd die in jail and never come out alive. When Justinian let me out, I expected I'd be dying soon in a different way. Why would he make me general of that godforsaken military district if he didn't figure I'd get killed there?"

  "What he thought matters no more," the monk- Paul, I guess it was- answered. "Don't hesitate now and you will seize power. Listen to Gregory and me, follow our advice, and everything you want will be yours."

  First I heard the prisoners coming, then I smelled them, and then I twisted my neck so I could see them. They took the weapons away from the bodies of the excubitores who'd fought for Justinian, and then disarmed the ones who hadn't fought for him and sent them away. What's that, Brother? So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spew thee out of my mouth? Thank you. That fits very well.

  Some more men came into the Praitorion then, with swords and spears and clubs enough to fit out the prisoners who didn't have any. The monk who wasn't Paul- yes, Gregory; thank you again- said, "Here's what you'll do: go to all the districts of the city and spread the word that Justinian's gone crazy and aims to massacre everybody who lives inside the walls. People will believe it- people will believe anything about Justinian. Tell everybody to gather at the church of the Holy Wisdom. I'll go to the patriarch and tell him the same thing- except I'll say Justinian aims to start with him. Once we've done all that, Justinian will fall into our hands like a ripe fig."

  I was lying there doing my best to be invisible. It didn't work. Somebody jerked a thumb at me and asked, "What about him?" I tried again to get free of the ropes. That didn't work, either.

  But Leontios said, "Leave him be. He's Justinian's lapdog. If we fail, my head goes up on the Milestone come what may. But if we kill him and then fail, you'll all die. Not one of you will live. He's not going to hurt us lying there all tied up. When we win, we can figure out what to do with him."

  So there I lay. Outside, on the Mese, the racket got louder than I'd ever heard it in the middle of the night. People were running back and forth, riding back and forth, and everybody who was going anywhere was yelling at the top of his lungs. Most of the yells were just yells, but then I heard someone shouting, "Dig up Justinian's bones!"

  I felt the same sort of chill I had when most of my excubitores wouldn't fight for Justinian after Leontios and his toughs broke into the Praitorion. You shout "Dig up so-and-so's bones!" and you want the worst thing you can think of to happen to that person, whoever he is. And the more time went by, the more people were screeching, "Dig up Justinian's bones!"

  Gregory came back then- it's not far from the Praitorion to the great church. He was grinning like he'd just tripped over a pound of gold in the street. "Kallinikos is with us!" he told Leontios. Everyone in the Praitorion- except me, and I didn't count- started cheering like a madman. Gregory waited till people calmed down a little, then went on, "Of course, Kallinikos is going to be with whoever talks to him last; we have to make sure none of Justinian's people- not that there are many left- gets near him. He's putting on his robes now. As soon as he's done that, he's going to preach in the great church."

  More cheers. Leontios said, "I need to be there, then. Let's go." He started to leave, along with all his followers. For a minute there, I thought they were going to leave me all alone. I got my hopes up- maybe I could wiggle loose after all.

  No such luck. Paul remembered me and said, "Now what do we do with him?"

  "Sling a spear shaft through his arms and legs," Leontios said. "We'll haul him along with us. That way, he won't get into any trouble or any mischief." So that's what they did. Off I went, upside down, carried on their shoulders. Yes, like a pig heading for the roasting pit, Brother. I was thinking that very thing at the time.

  The world looks pretty strange upside down, you know that? You never tried it, you say? I'll tell you, I wish I hadn't.

  But while they were lugging me east up the Mese toward the church of the Holy Wisdom, I saw a couple of poor bastards in worse shape than I was. Along came this big bunch of laughing, shouting people, with screams coming out of the middle of it. The people thinned out a little when they recognized Leontios, so he could see what they were up to. That meant I got to see, too. They'd caught Stephen the Persian and Theodotos, who'd done so much to get Justinian hated, and tied their legs together, then tied ropes to their feet so they could drag 'em along the street.

  "Mercy!" Stephen screamed. Theodotos screamed even louder: "Mercy, in God's name!"

  "What are you going to do with them?" Leontios asked.

  "Haul 'em down to the Forum of the Bull and burn 'em alive!" somebody told him, and that set the whole wolfpack baying again. By the sound of things, everybody liked the idea except Stephen and Theodotos. They kept bleating for mercy. Me, I was upside down. I was miserable. All the same, I wouldn't have minded seeing them burn, especially since they were the ones who'd landed Justinian in so much of
his trouble.

  But it wasn't up to me. It was up to Leontios. Everybody looked at him. He looked at the crowd, at all the eyes glittering in the torchlight. He looked at Theodotos and Stephen. He grinned. If they'd had any hope at all, that grin would have killed it. "Aye, burn 'em!" he shouted. Why not? That made the mob like him and hate Justinian, both at the same time. Off went the eunuch and the greedy monk, their heads banging the cobblestones. Their wails faded in the distance. So did the cheers of the mob, but a lot slower.

  "On to the great church," Paul said. Leontios nodded, like he'd forgotten and was glad someone was reminding him.

  The church and the courtyard around it were packed. "Make way!" Leontios's henchmen shouted. "Make way for the new Emperor!"

  That got people to move aside, all right. Some were still yelling, "Dig up Justinian's bones!" More, though, started shouting, "Many years for the Emperor Leontios!" and "Tu vincas, Leontios!"- doing things properly, you see, in the middle of a usurpation.

  "I think," Leontios said, "I shall rule as Leo."

  "With your beard and hair so long, you certainly have the mane of a mighty lion, Emperor," Gregory said- currying favor in the middle of a usurpation.

  Torches and lamps and candelabra made the inside of the church of the Holy Wisdom bright as day, though morning twilight was just beginning to stain the eastern sky. Because I was where I was, I didn't see Kallinikos till one of the ruffians who was carrying me almost trod on his toes. The patriarch wasn't up at the ambo where you'd expect him. He stood down by the baptistery instead.

  Seeing Leontios, he bowed to him. "Hello, Emperor, and God bless you," he said. Yes, he'd trim his sail to fill with any wind. "I-" I don't know what he said after that, not for a while, because I got dropped on the floor like a sack of garbanzos, and I was too busy hurting to pay him any heed. For good measure, a couple of people kicked me and a couple more stepped on me, I don't think knowing I was there till their feet found out.

  I'd landed on my back. I could look up and see Leontios and Kallinikos kiss each other on the cheek, a pair of smiling Judases. Paul came up and said something to the patriarch. Kallinikos's head went up and down, up and down. Whoever said anything to Kallinikos, he'd nod. He'd do it. If you got to him last, he was yours.

  People started yelling: "The patriarch will speak! The patriarch will speak!"

  It got quiet. Kallinikos filled himself up with air like a frog about to croak. Then he let it out, all at once: "This is the day the Lord has made! Let us give thanks and rejoice!" After that, he couldn't go on for a while, not through all the cheering. When he did, it was with about the drivel you'd expect: "This is the day of change, of freedom, of hope, of justice, of-"

  He probably could have gone on for hours, but somebody outshouted him. Now, it's just as rude to interrupt the ecumenical patriarch as it is to interrupt the Emperor. But Kallinikos didn't care, not this time, and neither did anyone else, because what the fellow yelled was, "We have Justinian!"

  JUSTINIAN

  Iwoke to tumult, some time in the late hours of the night. Only the earliest hint of dawn showed in the window. Beside me, the girl I had taken to bed for my pleasure the evening before stirred and mumbled and rolled over; the soft tip of her bare breast brushed against the side of my arm. I sat up. The racket was very loud, louder than it should have been anywhere near the palace at that hour.

  My sitting woke the girl. "What is it?" she asked.

  "I don't know, Zoe," I answered. "Whatever it is, the excubitores should set it to rights before long." Assuming the guardsmen would do just that, I leaned over and began to caress her. She sighed, I hope with pleasure, and slid closer to me.

  Then someone began pounding on the door to my bedchamber. I snarled an oath, wondering who dared presume to disturb the Emperor of the Romans at his sport. "Flee, my son!" my mother cried. "Foes are in the palace!"

  Zoe cried out in fear. Her forgotten, I sprang to my feet. To ward against murderers in the night, I always kept a sword by the bed. Even in near darkness, finding it was no more than the work of a moment. I flung an undertunic over my nakedness and unbarred the door.

  My mother stared at me in mingled surprise and dismay. "No, son!" she exclaimed. "Out the window"- she pointed-"and make what escape you can." Zoe came up behind me, wearing rather less than I was. My mother ignored her, sure proof of the depth of her alarm. "Flee!" she said again. "You have only moments- the palace is betrayed."

  I thrust the sword out ahead of me, as if to run through an enemy. "Did my great-great-grandfather run from danger?" I demanded. "Did my grandfather? Did my father, when his brothers tried to overthrow him? If they want me, they will find me ready to fight. Where are the excubitores?"

  My mother groaned. "Most of them stood aside and let the usurper's men into the palace."

  "Who is the usurper?" I demanded, wondering upon whom I should have to avenge myself.

  Before my mother could answer, I heard someone around a bend in the corridor say, "The Emperor's bedchamber is that way." Several men came running, their sandals pounding against the mosaic tiles of the floor. To this day, I wonder which of my servants thus betrayed me to my foes. I wonder if he serves me yet. If he does, I wonder how long I can make him last, how much I can make him suffer before dying, if ever I learn who he is.

  I had no time to concentrate on the voice, though, for several low ruffians came dashing round the corner. They all had swords. "There he is!" one of them cried, pointing at me in the torchlight. Not wanting the fight to endanger my mother or even Zoe, I rushed toward the traitors, intending to cut my way through them and however many had invaded the palace.

  They being many and I one, though, my success was less than I had wished. The first man I attacked fell with a groan, clutching at a gash in his side. But the second, being a better swordsman, kept me at play. "Don't kill him!" one of the other brigands shouted. "Leontios wants him alive." Thus I learned who craved to steal my throne.

  "I want me alive," my opponent panted, parrying a blow that should have laid his face open.

  But, as the ancient pagan saying has it, even Herakles could not fight two. That dog kept me too busy to deal with any of the others as they deserved. One of them tackled me and knocked me to the floor. Unable to slash him as I fell, I hit him in the side of the head with the heavy pommel of my sword. He groaned and went limp. Before I could do anything more, another man grabbed my arm and wrenched the sword from my hand.

  "Now we've got him!" my assailants roared. I punched and kicked and butted and bit, learning the taste of their blood. No one came to my aid. Despite all I could do, they swarmed over me, binding me hand and foot. After that, they spent some little while beating and kicking me, whether out of general hatred or because of the fight I had put up I cannot say. I bent my head down, hoping to keep them from smashing my teeth or breaking my nose. Looking back, that seems funny.

  "What do we do with him now that we've got him?" somebody asked.

  "Take him to the great church," answered the man who had fought me sword to sword. "That's were Leontios is at, and that's where the patriarch, God bless him, is at, too." I cannot imagine why I was surprised to discover Kallinikos had joined those betraying me, but I was.

  The ruffians hauled me to my feet. A couple of them thrust their arms through between my arms and my ribcage and hustled me along. Dawn was breaking. In the trees and bushes around the great palace, birds began to sing. I remember that quite clearly. Again, I cannot say why. God, Who knows everything, will know that as well.

  Men came up to me and reviled me: like any other dogs, they snapped at what they thought weaker than themselves. I cursed them as foully as I knew how, foully enough to make some of them gesture to avert the evil eye. I hope the curses I sent their way bit anyhow.

  As we drew near the church of the Holy Wisdom, a swarm of people came out of it. At their head strode Kallinikos and a man I recognized after a moment as Leontios. I cursed him, too, at the top of my lu
ngs. He took no notice, having already assumed what he fondly imagined to be the imperial manner. "Bring him to the hippodrome," he told the men who had me, "to the stadium where the horses run." Even as usurping Emperor, he remained redundant.

  To the hippodrome- and, I suppose, to the stadium where the horses run- we went. As we went, I saw that two of Leontios's followers carried between them a man suspended from a pole. He turned his head and saw me, too. I might have guessed faithful Myakes would not stand by without doing his best to keep me from being overthrown. His best, like my own, had not been good enough.

  "God bless you, Emperor," he called to me. One of the brigands walking alongside hit him in the face. Forgetting I was also bound, I tried to break free of my captors and come to his aid. That got me nothing but another buffet of my own. My ears rang.

  Into the hippodrome we came. They hauled me to the stretch of track near the finish line, between the main grandstand- which was already black with people- and the Kathisma, the Emperor's seat, from which I had so often watched the pounding chariots come down to the line.

  "Leontios!" the people shouted. "Tu vincas, Leontios! Leontios, Emperor of the Romans! Many years to the Emperor Leontios!" Listening to their fickle faithlessness, I felt like a husband coming home early one day to discover the wife he had trusted sucking on his best friend's prong.

  The men who had charge of Myakes dumped him down on the ground. That made the mob bay louder, many of them, no doubt, believing him to be me. Then the cries grew louder still: an executioner, his features hidden by a black hood, came striding up the track toward me.

  "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me," I murmured, wishing I could make the holy sign of the cross. Turning to Kallinikos, I said, "If you give me unction before he slays me, God might make the pangs you will suffer in hell for betraying me a trifle less agonizing."

  Instead of answering, Kallinikos turned to Leontios for permission: sure enough, the dog had a new master. Leontios had also heard my words. He walked up to me, a b road false smile on his face. When he held up both his hands, silence dropped over the hippodrome like a cloak. Into it, he cried, "I, Leo, am now Emperor of the Romans!"