Justinian

by Harry Turtledove

  "No!" she screamed, and much abuse of which I took no notice.

  I clapped my hands together, once, twice, three times. Into the throne room came John, Helias's Ethiopian cook. "Behold," I said, "your new husband."

  John leered at Zoe. I had not thought she could shriek louder than she already had done, but I was wrong. A weedy little priest named Basil tiptoed in after John. He was another of those useful people who did as they were told.

  Now, as he had been instructed, he read the marriage service before John and Zoe. John's responses were eager nods. Zoe's were screams or noes. I told Basil, "The woman is distraught. She does not know what she is saying. You are to interpret those as affirmatives."

  "Yes, Emperor," he said dutifully. The crowns of marriage- cheap copper ones; no point wasting better on the likes of them- were set upon their heads, and Basil pronounced them man and wife.

  I nodded to John. "Consummate your marriage." His Greek was not up to that. I simplified the matter: "Now you take her." Those words he had no trouble understanding. I had earlier urged him to seal their union in the throne room itself. Even though he was only a black barbarian, he did not want to do that. I had set aside a chamber nearby instead. To this he now led- dragged- his bride, while I led the party of well-wishers shouting bawdy advice as they went.

  The door slammed shut. Presently, after some small commotion within, Zoe began to scream on a note different from the one she had used up until that time. The excubitores and courtiers standing in the hall with me took this as a sign the marriage union had been accomplished, and so did I. We burst into cheers.

  After a while, the door opened and John came forth. Zoe was no virgin. I had not given him a square of linen with which to prove he could show he had taken her maidenhead. But his smugly satisfied expression proved all that needed proving: this despite a couple of clawmarks on one cheek.

  Behind him, I saw Zoe, loosely wrapped in the tunic he must have torn off her. She sat on the edge of the bed. Her feet dangled down toward the floor. Her face was buried in her hands. Racking sobs shook her body.

  "What kind of bridegroom thinks one round is enough?" I demanded of John. "Remember, she is yours. Go back and do your duty to her properly."

  He was a young man, so he needed little urging. He looked thoughtful for a moment. Maybe he wondered whether he was ready to rise again so soon. Then he grinned- he was ready. His teeth, as always, seemed especially white because they were seen against his dark skin. He closed the door. The well-wishers and I waited until Zoe started to scream again. Then we applauded to drown out her racket.

  After I encouraged John to show his paces, he proved a man of formidable stamina. No doubt he had suffered long deprivation in such matters because he had been a slave. Perhaps, too, he was excited because he got to swive the woman who had ordered him about.

  However that was, I decided not to wait around outside the bedchamber until his first night- or rather, his first day- was done. Let him have his good time. I had other things to do. And for now, Helias was punished as well as he could be until he himself fell into my hands.

  Now to accomplish that- and to deal with Bardanes the usurper.

  ***

  "Get up, Mauros," I said roughly.

  He rose from his prostration. He was a frightened man. I could see white all around the irises of his eyes. "You summoned me, Emperor," he said. "I am here to serve you." His voice did not waver. I give him so much.

  "And serve me you shall," I said. "You came back when the others stayed in Kherson to betray me. I thank you for that. Now you shall be the instrument through which I chastise them."

  "Tell me what you require, Emperor, and I shall give it to you. You need have no doubt of that." Again, Mauros sounded sure of himself.

  I was also sure of myself. "I shall give you another fleet, Mauros," I told him. His eyes kindled. I give few men the chance to redeem themselves. He knew it full well. "Along with the fleet, I shall give you catapults and rams and every sort of siege engine we have stored here in our armories and arsenals."

  "You will want me to take Kherson, then," he said.

  "Not only that. I want you to raze the walls to the foundations. It will never close itself up against me again."

  "I am here to serve you," Mauros repeated.

  I held up my hand. "I was not finished," I told him. He hung his head in sorrow because he interrupted me. I gave him time to reflect on his many sins. He may have sinned against God. He had surely sinned against me. I went on, "I intend for you to slay every man, woman, and child inside the walls."

  "I understand, Emperor," he said.

  "You had better." I know I sounded angry. I was angry. Mauros cringed. That pleased me. "If you and Stephen and Helias had done what I ordered you to do in the first place, we would not have trouble now. The Khersonites would be dead. They deserve death. Helias would be my governor in that part of the world. Any number of unfortunate things would not have happened. They would have had no need to happen."

  Mauros licked his lips. He knew how I had punished Helias through his children and through Zoe. "You will have no cause to be disappointed in me, Emperor," he said.

  "I expect to be pleased with you, Mauros, not disappointed," I replied. "In fact, I can think of only one thing that would disappoint me."

  He licked his lips once more. With great care, he said, "Since I do not wish to disappoint you in any way, Emperor, please tell me what that one thing is, so I may be certain to avoid it."

  "Failure," I said.

  "Emperor?" His face went blank. Artfully blank? I do not think so. I think he simply did not understand.

  "Failure." I said it again. "Carry out your orders as I have given them to you and all will be well. Do anything but carry out my orders, fail in any particular, and by God and His Son, Mauros, I swear you will end up envying Helias before I am through with you. I will slaughter every kinsman of yours, no matter how distant. I will kill every friend you have. I will kill every shopkeeper you ever met. Every one of them will have a long, hard time dying. You will watch them with the one eye I leave you after the executioners do their first work. Then, maybe, if you are lucky, you will- eventually- die, too."

  He quivered. "Emperor, I have already told you I will do everything in my power to see your will is done in Kherson. But, but-"

  "I shall accept no excuses here, Mauros," I broke in. "None. Do you hear me? Succeed, and I will reward you richly. Fail, and you pay the price of failure. Sometimes the world is a very simple place."

  "But, Emperor, God is greater than I am," he said. "God is even greater than you, Emperor. It is possible, by His will, that I fail through no fault of my own. What if the Khazars come back to Kherson? How can I fight them and the Khersonites at the same time?"

  "I did not summon you here to listen to excuses," I snapped. "If you do not command this expedition, you shall be judged to have have failed in advance. Everything of which I spoke just now will fall due. Shall I have the excubitores lay hold of you, so I can begin on your relatives?"

  "Have mercy, Emperor!" he wailed. "I shall do as you bid me."

  "Good. As I said, it is very simple. Avenge the Roman Empire- avenge me, the Emperor of the Romans- on Kherson and the Khersonites. It should not be difficult in any way. The town is small and half barbarous. Only if you fail me have you any need to fear. And you shall not fail me, shall you, Mauros?"

  "Emperor, I dare not," he said. I nodded in approval. At last, he understood everything he needed to understand.

  ***

  Mauros's fleet is now sailing for Kherson. I wish it had left a few days sooner. Loading the necessary siege gear onto the transports did take time. If I had only wanted to execute Mauros, I did not need to send him on an expedition bound to fail to give myself an excuse. I could have taken his head and had done. I care nothing for Mauros, one way or the other. I want Kherson in ruins and its people dead. They deserve to be dead.

  With the fleet sail a number
of light, swift vessels. Through them, I shall learn everything that happens in the northern region. "The season is late, Emperor," Myakes said when he heard me order them along. "We've already had storms. You're liable not to see some of those little fellows again."

  "I don't care," I answered. "Some will get through. They will tell me what I need to know. The rest can sink, and their sailors drown." I glared at him. "Are you a traitor, too? Do you want to keep me in the shadows of ignorance? I know there are traitors everywhere, Myakes, but I had not suspected you."

  "If you think I am a traitor, you know you can take my head," Myakes said stolidly. "I won't run away."

  I let him live. Perhaps it is a mistake. So many have betrayed me lately, why not Myakes as well? But I would, I think, sooner suspect Theodora, her brother after all being the altogether unreliable Ibouzeros Gliabanos, whose eyes I should have burned from his head when he dared show his altogether despised countenance here in the Queen of Cities, whose skin I should have flayed from his shrieking, bleeding carcass in digit-wide strips, whose life I should have taken from him as he purposed taking mine from me.

  Well, if I should change my mind and decide the captain of excubitores needs death, he was right to remind me I can give it to him at any time. I shall sleep on it and see what I decide in the morning.

  MYAKES

  So he was thinking of getting rid of me, was he, Brother Elpidios? It makes me sad, I won't say it doesn't. But if I told you it surprises me, I'd be lying. There at the end, nobody and nothing was safe from him. His mind must have been slipping- do you notice how his writing is different all of a sudden? These last few sections, the only time he wrote fancy was when he was thinking of how he wanted to torture his brother-in-law before he killed him.

  Remember, a lot of people had betrayed him by then. Of course, one of the reasons they betrayed him was that they hadn't done or hadn't been able to do what he'd ordered. They figured he'd kill them if they came home after that, so why not rebel instead? If they won, they'd live, and if they didn't, he couldn't kill 'em any deader than he would have otherwise.

  And once the first people started betraying him, he thought everybody would. That just made things worse. He didn't pick what you'd call smart ways to stop it, either, did he? That business with Mauros, now. Any which way, it was going to make Mauros hate him. If Mauros takes Kherson and slaughters everybody in it, he still comes back hating Justinian. And if he doesn't take ita160… He'd come back once after things went wrong, and look at the thanks he got for it. Would you call twice tempting fate? Would Mauros? How much could Justinian expect any man to bear?

  He'd borne a lot himself. It made him expect a lot, too.

  JUSTINIAN

  God and His Son Jesus Christ be praised, the accursed usurper and traitors and rebels in Kherson shall soon receive some of the punishment they deserve; even though death in battle is a quicker end than they deserve, I trust the Lord Almighty to make their eternal fate correspondingly more painful as recompense for His mercy in this transient world.

  Yesterday, one of the courier ships I attached to Mauros's force returned to the imperial city with word that he had overthrown the Kentenaresion Gate of Kherson by means of a ram. And today I have the report from another that the Gate of Syagros is also down. Soon, I expect, the fleet will return with word of a town extinguished and with the persons of Bardanes and Helias, upon which I shall wreak my vengeance.

  And now Theophylaktos comes with word that yet another courier is arrived in the imperial city. Strange to think how Kherson must now be days destroyed, even if word of its overfall reaches me only at this instance. I can, I think, afford to be generous to the messenger bringing me the news. And all the complaints I had over my treatment of Mauros are now shown up as the vaporous maunderings they were from the beginning. Put the fear of God and the Emperor in him and he performed well enough.

  ***

  Treason! Treachery! Deceit! Cheating! Lies! Trickery! Cowardice! That pox-ridden pile on the arse of humanity, Ibouzeros Gliabanos, has sent an army to Kherson to keep my men from punishing the place as it deserves. How are my soldiers to oppose Kherson and the barbarous Khazars at the same time?

  I should have killed him. I should have castrated him. I should have slit his tongue. I should have slit his nose. I should have blinded him. Come to the Queen of Cities again, Ibouzeros Gliabanos. Come. I shall coax you with honeyed words once the rebellion is put down. Come. You will like it so well, you will never want to leave. You will never leave- not in one piece.

  MYAKES

  After that, Brother Elpidios, the couriers stopped coming for a while. Justinian didn't know exactly what was going on, up there by Kherson. I don't think he ever did know, not really. I know I didn't, not then. I've pieced it together, bit by bit, from things I've heard over the years here in the monastery.

  The Khazars hadn't sent enough men to be sure of licking Mauros. Like Justinian says, he didn't have enough to fight them and the Khersonites both. They all called a kind of a truce to try and sort things out.

  While the truce was on, Bardanes got out of Kherson and ran off to Ibouzeros Gliabanos. Somewhere around then, Mauros and his soldiers figured out that they weren't going to be able to take Kherson, not with the Khazars' troops so close. Mauros knew what would happen to him if he went back to Constantinople without taking the place. Justinian had been very clear about that, hadn't he, Brother? Not quite so clever as he thought he was, eh? So Mauros declared for Bardanes.

  I suppose it would have been about this time that Helias heard what Justinian had done to his children, and to Zoe, too.

  Ibouzeros Gliabanos made Mauros's men swear an oath that they wouldn't hurt Bardanes no matter what. He also made them pay him a nomisma a man, for the privilege of not having to fight his soldiers. Once they'd done that, he gave them Bardanes, though after that everybody called him Philippikos.

  Like I told you, Brother Elpidios, nobody in Constantinople knew all the whys and wherefores. All we knew was that Mauros wasn't sending back any more reports about how well things were going. He wasn't sending back any reports at all.

  JUSTINIAN

  What is Mauros doing? Why does he stay silent? Why do I not hear from him? What plots is he hatching? If he dare not speak to me of what he purposes, does he think me a blind man, unable to see these things for myself? I know what he has in his mind. I know what he must have in his mind. He can have only one thing in his mind.

  Treason.

  Were he loyal, I should have heard of him long since. Since I have not heard, he cannot be loyal. What is he doing, up there in Kherson? He must have taken Bardanes' cock up his arse, to choose the stinking rebel over me. Let them come. Let them all come. We shall see how happy they are once they try to take the Queen of Cities from me. Bardanes and Helias shall have no stinking Khazars to bail them out then.

  No one takes me by surprise. Like hundred-eyed Argos in the pagan myth, I see everything. Nothing escapes me. But I cannot see Kherson so well as I should like, not from Constantinople I cannot. I must watch the rebels as close as I can. Too much can happen in Kherson before word of it reaches the imperial city. I must be nearer, to get news sooner.

  Where, then? Where? Amastris? No- closer than Constantinople, but not close enough. What of Sinope? Aye, Sinope! Nowhere closer to Kherson, not on this side of the Black Sea. I have men from the military district of the Thrakesians here in the capital, a couple of regiments. Have to pick up more troops along the way. The men of the military district of the Opsikion. Barisbakourios and his men. If they are not loyal, no one is.

  And Tervel is with me. He lent me some soldiers to send to Kilikia to fight the Arabs. I will use them to fight the usurper instead.

  Look at this. Look at these words. Hardly Greek at all. Where are the balanced clauses? The participles? The genitive absolutes? How my old pedagogue would scorn this style. What was his name? I still do not remember. As for the Greek, I do not care. After Bardanes is dead,
and Helias, and Mauros, I will make it worth reading. Now it sets down my thoughts as I have them. It is enough.

  On to Sinope! No time to lose!

  ***

  Fight with Theodora in the tent here. Once too often, she says, "You should not have left Constantinople."

  "I have to see," I tell her. "I must know what Bardanes is doing, the instant he does it. I cannot wait. I dare not wait."

  "You should have stayed," she says again. "Here, marching through the countryside, you are a turtle out of its shell."

  "A turtle that stays in its shell is a turtle that can't see," I say. "I must know what they are doing. I must, I tell you."

  Stupid bitch, she cannot see what is in front of her. "You stick your head out of your shell, you see them chop it off," she says. "You stay in where you belong, they never get you. They never have a chance to get you."

  I cannot go back. I must not go back. Why does she keep trying to put second thoughts in my head? Does she plot against me, too? "Shut up!" I scream. "Shut up! Shut up!"

  "No!" She shouts, too. "You need to listen to me, Justinian! You are making a mistake. You should have stayed back in-"

  I hit her then. The back of my hand. Hard across her face. Her eyes- big, big. Red on her cheek. Her mouth bleeds. A little. Not much. Only a little. I am the man. I am the Emperor. I have the right.

  She is a barbarian. She does not understand. Tries to hit me. I am too fast. Too strong. Grab her arm. Throw her down on the folding bed. Stand over her. Breathing hard. Hard. Yes, hard. Jump down onto her.

  "No!" she screams again.

  I am the man. I am the Emperor. I have the right. No is not for me. She fights. I am too strong. Take her. Take that! Argue with me? Wonderful! Best since that yellow-haired Sklavinian toy. No rape since then. Long time. Too long. Should not have waited.