Videssos Besieged ttot-4

by Harry Turtledove

  «War does have a habit of making people's lives difficult,» Maniakes said. Vetranios nodded; the Avtokrator's irony sailed right past him. Reflecting that he should have known better, Maniakes returned to the matter at hand: «Very well. You haven't been in Serrhes for a bit. I thought the town seemed quieter than usual. What do you know about Broios and Phosia that I haven't already heard?»

  «Since I don't know what you've already heard, your Majesty, how can I tell you that?» Vetranios asked. Given his past record, the question struck Maniakes as altogether too reasonable to have come from his lips. Vetranios went on, «I can tell you, though, that Broios betrothed Phosia to Kaykaus, Tegin's second-in-command, while the Makuraners were occupying Serrhes.»

  «What?» Maniakes stared. «By the good god, sir, you'd better give me a good answer as to how you know that when no one else in this city has breathed a word of it to me. If you're lying, the Halogai may be kicking your head through the city square, not your arse.»

  «I am not lying.» Vetranios sketched the sun-circle above his heart. Of course, he'd done the same thing during his earlier dispute with Broios. He'd been lying then. So had Broios, who had sworn just as hard he was telling the truth. «As for how I know… Your Majesty, I have a daughter, too. Her name is Sisinnia. Kaykaus and I were dickering over an engagement when all at once he broke off the talks, saying he preferred Phosia—by which I take it he meant her dowry. So news of this will not have got round the town.»

  «I—see,» Maniakes said slowly. «Don't leave Serrhes again without getting my consent first, Vetranios. I may have to use magic to find out whether you're telling the truth.»

  «Your Majesty!» The merchant assumed an expression of injured innocence. «How could you possibly doubt me?»

  «Somehow or other, I manage,» Maniakes said, another shot that sailed over Vetranios' head. «Never mind. Go home. Stay there. If I need you again, I'll summon you.»

  After the merchant left the city governor's residence, Maniakes hunted up Rhegorios and gave him the news. «That doesn't sound good, does it?» Rhegorios said with a scowl. «Not that he wanted to make the marriage—that would be easy enough to forgive. But trying to make it and then not telling us about it… Master Broios has some explaining to do, I fear.»

  «So he does. And unless he's got a bloody good explanation…» Maniakes strode over and set his hand on Rhegorios' shoulder. «I know you're sweet on this girl, cousin of mine, but unless her father has a bloody good explanation, I don't want to be connected with him.»

  «I'm not arguing with you,» Rhegorios said. «I wish I could argue, but I can't.» He laughed in self-mockery. «If I were fifteen years younger, I'd be sure as sure I couldn't possibly live without her, and my life would be ruined forever. And I'd probably yank out my sword and try and make you change your mind—either that or I'd run off with her the way I was thinking of doing anyhow, get a priest to say the words over us, and leave you to make the best of it. But do you know what, cousin your Majesty brother-in-law of mine? If what Vetranios says is true, I'm not dead keen on having an old reprobate like Broios in the family.»

  «Don't despair,» Maniakes said. «There may be a perfectly innocent explanation for this.»

  «So there may,» Rhegorios said. «To the ice with me if I can think of one, though.» Maniakes thumped him on the shoulder again. He couldn't think of an innocent explanation, either.

  Broios' proskynesis was so smooth, he must have been practicing back at his own home. The robes he wore were of a cut, and of a quality of silk, above those to which even a prosperous merchant might normally aspire. Maniakes didn't know where he'd gotten them, but he looked to be ready for his role as father-in-law to the Sevastos of the Empire of Videssos.

  «Good evening, your Majesty,» he wheezed to Maniakes as he rose. «A pleasure to be in your company, as always.»

  Maniakes raised an eyebrow. «As always. As I recall, you weren't so glad to see me the second time we met.»

  «Only a misunderstanding,» Broios said easily. The impression he gave was that Maniakes had done the misunderstanding, but that he was generously willing to overlook the Avtokrator's error. He let a little petulance creep into his voice as he went on, «I had hoped, your Majesty, that you might have chosen to honor my wife and daughter with an invitation to this supper tonight. After all—» He gave Maniakes a coy, sidelong glance. «—you'll be seeing a lot of them in times to come.»

  «No need to hurry, then, wouldn't you say?» Maniakes replied.

  Broios looked to Rhegorios for support. Finding none, he said, «Well, however you like, of course.» Again, he managed to make it sound as if the Avtokrator was obviously in the wrong, but he, out of his splendid magnanimity, was willing to overlook the breach in decorum.

  One of the servants at the city governor's residence came in and announced that supper was ready. Maniakes found himself unenthusiastic about breaking bread with Broios, but he knew he would have to endure it. «Do try the wine,» the servant urged.

  Everyone did. Broios' eyes widened. «That's potent stuff,» he said, and tossed back his cup. «Good, mind you, but potent. Are you planning on serving supper under the table tonight, eh, your Majesty?» He laughed loudly at his own joke.

  «I hope not,» Maniakes answered, although he would not have minded seeing Broios drunk so his tongue would wag freer. To further that end, he'd ordered the cooks to do up a salty casserole of mutton and cabbage, the better to encourage thirst.

  Broios was not shy about drinking wine. Broios, as well as Maniakes could tell, was not shy about anything, whether that meant making deals or telling lies. But the merchant, while refilling his cup several times, gave no sign the wine was doing anything to him water would not have done.

  «It is a pity, your Majesty, that Phosia couldn't taste this vintage,» he said. «I don't know where in town you found it, but it's very fine.»

  «I'm glad you like it,» Maniakes said, and then, given an opening of sorts, went on, «You must be very proud of your daughter.»

  «Oh, I am,» Broios said with the same fulsome sincerity with which he invested every pronouncement. «Nothing too good for my little girl, that's the truth. Not that I've spoiled her, you understand,» he added hastily. «Nothing like that. She won't be difficult for his Highness the Sevastos, not in any way she won't.» He glanced over toward Rhegorios. «You've not said much tonight, your Highness.»

  Rhegorios went on saying not much. Broios looked puzzled, but then shrugged and went back to his supper.

  «Nothing too good for Phosia, you say?» Maniakes asked, as if unsure he'd heard correctly, Broios' emphatic nod said he had no doubts on that score. Thoughtfully, Maniakes went on, «Not even the Sevastos of the Empire of Videssos?»

  «Your Majesty has been generous and gracious enough to let me believe such a match might not be impossible,» Broios said.

  Since that was true, Maniakes nodded meditatively. And, meditatively, he asked, «Nothing is too good for Phosia, eh? Not even the—» He plucked the perfect word out of the air. «—magnifolent Kaykaus, second-in-command of the Makuraner garrison here?» Broios stared at him. When the merchant spoke, he might almost have had reproach in his voice: «Ah, your Majesty, where could you have heard about that?»

  «Never you mind where I heard about it,» Maniakes answered. «That is not the point. The point, sirrah, is why I didn't hear of it from you weeks ago, when I asked if any obstacles or embarrassments stood between your daughter and my family. Wouldn't you say that an engagement to a Makuraner officer is an embarrassment of sorts?»

  «If she'd been married to him, your Majesty, that would have been an embarrassment,» Broios said. Whatever he knew of embarrassments, he plainly knew at second hand, for he was impervious to them himself.

  Maniakes said. «Having her engaged to this officer may not he so much of a much; you're right about that.» Broios looked relieved. But then the Avtokrator went on, «Not telling me about the engagement, though, is something else again. I asked
you if there were problems. You said no. That was a lie. I don't think we want liars in our clan.»

  «Your Majesty!» Broios cried. He turned to Rhegorios. «Your Highness!»

  Rhegorios shook his head. «No. You have a lovely daughter, Broios, and I think she's a sweet girl, too. If I were marrying just her, I'd be more than happy enough. But you don't marry just a girl—you marry her whole family.» Maniakes had to keep himself from clapping his hands in glee. His cousin had listened to him after all! Rhegorios went on, «While I'd like to have Phosia for a wife, I'd sooner have a snake in my boot than you for a father-in-law.»

  Maybe the strong wine Broios had drunk had loosened his tongue, after all. He shouted, «You're the Avtokrator's cousin, so you think you can pick any girl you want and she'll be glad to have you. If you weren't his cousin, there's not a woman in the Empire would look at you twice.»

  «Yes, I am the Avtokrator's cousin,» Rhegorios agreed, «and you're right, the rules for me are different because of it. If I weren't the Avtokrator's cousin, I might even put up with the likes of you for the sake of getting Phosia. But I can pick and choose, and so I will.» He stood up and looked down his nose at Broios. «But I will say this, sir: when I was an exile on the island of Kalavria, I had no trouble at all getting women to look at me twice—or getting them to do more than that, either, when the mood took them. And it did.»

  Maniakes knew that was true. One of the reasons Rhegorios remained unwed was precisely that he did so well for himself without making any permanent promises. «You are dismissed, Broios,» the Avtokrator said, more than a little sadly. «We'd have to watch you closer than the Makuraners, and that's all there is to it. If you like, once things settle down in Mashiz, you have my leave to write Kaykaus and see if you can bring that match back to life.»

  «Bah!» Pausing only to empty his winecup one last time and pop a couple of candied apricots into his mouth, Broios stormed out of the dining hall. The city governor's residence shook as if in a small earthquake as he slammed the door behind him.

  «I'm sorry, cousin of mine,» Maniakes said.

  «So am I,» Rhegorios answered. «I am going to be a while finding someone who suited me as well as Phosia. But Broios—» He shook his head again. «No, thank you.» He suddenly looked thoughtful. «I wonder what Vetranios' daughter is like.» Seeing Maniakes' expression, he burst out laughing. «I don't mean it, cousin of mine. If Broios is a snake in my boot, Vetranios is a scorpion. We're well shut of both of them.»

  «Now you're talking sense.» Maniakes sketched the sun-circle to emphasize how much sense Rhegorios was talking. Then he eyed the wine jar. «That is a good vintage. Now that we've started it, we may as well finish it. After all, you're drowning your sorrows, aren't you?»

  «Am I?» Rhegorios said. «Well, yes, I suppose I am. And by the time we get to the bottom of that, I expect they'll be so drowned, I'll have forgotten what they are. Let's get started, shall we?»

  Broios was not seen in public for the next several days. The next time he was seen, he sported a black eye and a startling collection of bruises elsewhere about his person. When Maniakes heard the news, he remarked to Lysia, «I'd say his wife wasn't very happy to have the betrothal fall through—or do you suppose Phosia was the one who did the damage?»

  «I'd bet on Zosime,» Lysia said. «She knows what she lost, and she knows who's to blame for losing it, too.»

  By her tone, she would have given Broios the same had she been married to him rather than to Maniakes. The Avtokrator suspected it wasn't the last walloping the merchant would get, either. Videssians breathed the heady atmosphere of rank almost as readily as they breathed the ordinary, material air. To have a chance at a union with the imperial family snatched away… no, Broios wouldn't have a pleasant time after that.

  Maniakes kept waiting for news out of the west. He wondered again if one or more of Abivard's messengers had gone missing– if, perhaps, Tegin's garrison force, heading back toward Makuran from Serrhes, had waylaid the riders. If that was so, Tegin would have to know the King of Kings whose cause he still espoused had failed, and that he would be well advised to make whatever peace he could with the new powers in his land.

  Tegin, at least, would know. Not knowing, Maniakes kept coming up with fresh possibilities in his own mind, each less pleasant than the one before. Maybe Sharbaraz had somehow rallied, and civil war raged across the Land of the Thousand Cities. That would account for no messengers' having reached Serrhes in a while. Or maybe Abivard had won a triumph so complete and so easy that he repented of his truce with the Videssians. Maybe he'd stopped sending messengers because he was gathering the armies of Makuran with a view toward renewing the war against the Empire.

  «I don't think he'd do that,» Rhegorios said when Maniakes raised the horrid prospect aloud. The Sevastos looked west, then went on thoughtfully, «I don't think he could do that, not this campaigning season. We're too close to the fall rains. His attack would bog down in the mud before it got well started.»

  «I keep telling myself the same thing.» Maniakes' grin conveyed anything but amusement. «I keep having trouble making myself believe it, too.»

  «That's why you're the Avtokrator,» Rhegorios said. «If you believed that all of the Videssos' neighbors were nice people who wanted to do us a favor, you wouldn't be suited for the job.»

  «If I believed that all of Videssos' neighbors were nice people who wanted to do us a favor, I'd be out of my bloody mind,» Maniakes exclaimed.

  «Well, that, too,» Rhegorios said. «Of course, if you believe all our neighbors are out to get us all the time, the way it must sometimes look if you're sitting on the throne, that's liable to drive you out of your bloody mind, too, isn't it?»

  «I expect it is,» the Avtokrator agreed. «And yes, it does look that way a lot of the time, doesn't it? So what have we got? If believing an obvious falsehood means you're out of your bloody mind, and if believing an equally obvious truth can send you out of your bloody mind, what does that say about sitting on the throne in the first place?»

  «It says you have to be out of your bloody mind to want to sit on the throne, that's what.» Rhegorios studied Maniakes. «Judging from the specimen at hand, I'd say that's right enough. Cousin of mine, I want you to live forever, or at least until all your sons have beards. I don't want the bloody job. Sevastos is bad enough, with leeches like Broios trying to fasten on to me.»

  «Fair enough,» Maniakes said. «I—» Before he could go on, one of his Haloga guardsmen came in from outside. «Yes? What is it, Askbrand?»

  «Your Majesty, a boiler boy waits in the plaza,» the big blond northerner answered. «He would have speech with you.»

  «I'll come,» Maniakes said happily. «About time we've had some news from Abivard. Phos grant it be good.»

  «Just hearing from him is good news,» Rhegorios said. «Now you can stop having dark suspicions about what he's up to.»

  «Don't be silly,» Maniakes said. «I'm the Avtokrator, remember? It's my job to have dark suspicions.»

  «One more reason not to want it, as I said before,» Rhegorios replied.

  Maniakes walked out of the city governor's residence and onto Serrhes' central square. After the gloom of indoors, he blinked several times against the bright sunshine. The messenger bowed in the saddle when he saw the Avtokrator; the rings of his chain-mail veil rattled faintly. «Majesty,» he said in the Makuraner. «What word?» Maniakes asked.

  The messenger rode closer. «Majesty, the word is good,» he said. «Abivard bids me tell you that he has at last decided the fate of Sarbaraz Pimp of Pimps. Sarbaraz is to be—»

  Maniakes had been listening intently for the news, so intently that he missed the first time the horseman mispronounced the name of the overthrown King of Kings. When the fellow made the same mistake twice in two sentences, though, he blurted, «You re a Videssian, aren't you?»

  By then, the messenger had come quite close, almost alongside him. With a horrible curse, the fellow yanked out
his sword and cut at Maniakes. But the Avtokrator, his dark suspicions suddenly roused, was already springing away. The tip of the blade brushed his robe, but did not cleave his flesh.

  Cursing still, the messenger pressed forward for another slash. That fell short, too. The boiler boy wheeled his horse and tried to get away. Askbrand's axe came down on the horse's head. The animal was wearing the scale mail with which the Makuraners armored their chargers. Against arrows, the mail was marvelous. Against a stroke like that, it might as well not have been there. The horse crashed to the cobblestones. Guardsmen swarmed over the rider.

  «Don't kill him!» Maniakes shouted. «We'll want answers from him.»

  «So we will,» Rhegorios said grimly. «If Abivard is sending murderers instead of messengers, we have a new war on our hands right now.»

  «I don't think he is,» Maniakes said. «Didn't you hear the way the fellow talked?»

  «I didn't notice,» his cousin answered. «You speak Makuraner better than I do. I was just trying to understand him.»

  The guards had gotten the would-be assassin's sword away from him. Roughly, one of them yanked off his helmet. Maniakes knew well the furious, clever, narrow face that glared at him. «Almost, Tzikas,» he said. «Almost. You might have managed to let the air out of me and then get away—if I didn't make the same mistakes speaking Makuraner that you do.»

  «Almost.» The renegade officer's mouth twisted bitterly. «The story of my, life. Almost. I almost held Amorion. I almost got you the first time, as I should have. Once I went over to the other side, I almost had Abivard's position. And I almost had you now.»

  «So you did,» Maniakes said. «I admit it—why not? If you think you can take it with you for consolation when you go down to Skotos' ice, I'd say you're wrong. The dark god robs the souls he gets of all consolation.» He spat on the cobblestones in rejection of Phos' eternal foe, and shivered a little on reflecting how easily his blood rather than his spittle might have flowed among them.