Greek Fire

by James Boschert

  The advisor addressed Sir Guy directly after a nod of permission from the emperor.

  “Sir Guy, one of the singular problems for an army on the march has to do with its provisions. Some march with the aim of feeding off the country as they go. This is what happened the last time and it led to terrible hardships for those in its path. The two armies were as locusts. The Germans in particular took most of what they wanted without payment of any sort, and when they were resisted they simply plundered. When the Franks came behind them it was worse, as there was nothing left to provide them with. We cannot allow that to happen the next time…if there is a next time.” He glanced at the Emperor as he said this. “How do you propose to avoid this situation?”

  “Your Majesty, my Lords.” Sir Guy addressed the entire company. “I have been given dispensation to negotiate the beginning of this agreement, but only in principle. I anticipate that there must be more negotiations, of course. However, I am authorized to inform you that The Templar Order has pledged that it will finance much of the provisioning for the armies in question. This can be either payment to you or to them for their needs.”

  There was silence while those present digested this piece of information. Then the same official said, “Can the Templars indeed afford to pay so much?” His tone was surprised and even skeptical.

  Sir Guy gave a wry smile. “We were originally asked to finance the building of a fleet, my Lord. That we could not do without grave loss to our treasury, but we could certainly help a king feed an army.”

  “You need those armies in Palestine, Sir Guy. I understand,” the Emperor interjected. “Perhaps we can think about this some more.”

  He went and sat down on the throne, and then he leaned on his elbow as he spoke.

  “You must understand that my father and I have had work to do just to regain losses sustained on all our borders. We are threatened by enemies from the east as well as to the west so it would be very hard for me to provide an army to assist the kings. However, if the Templars are ready to place a reasonable amount of money on the table in the form of compensation, I will do what I can to assist. There is much to negotiate, and Our mind is not made up as yet. The people of my country have very long memories.”

  Sir Guy bowed low. “Your Majesty, my Lords, I am honored that you have even given me the opportunity to put my case to you, and I thank you on behalf of the Grand Master and King Baldwin of Jerusalem.”

  The Emperor clapped his hands and servants came hurrying in with trays of sweetmeats and wine.

  “Then let us celebrate our continued relationship with the Order of the Templars despite any disagreements in the past,” he said.

  The people in the room visibly relaxed and Talon and Sir Guy were offered wine.

  “Who is this young knight who accompanies you, Sir Guy?” Manuel asked in French.

  “Your Majesty, may I present Sir Talon de Gilles, a trusted colleague and…a friend.” Sir Guy smiled at Talon as he said this.

  Talon bowed very low. “Your Majesty. I am deeply honored to be here in your presence,” he spoke in French, which was rapidly translated.

  Manuel nodded his head.

  “I see we have Alexios Kalothesos with us today as well. How is your father?” he inquired.

  Alexios flushed and bowed. “My father is well, your Majesty. He hopes to be in attendance at the next chariot races if it pleases you.”

  “Well, let us hope that Pantoleon does not start another riot this time,” Manuel said. His comment drew a titter from the attendants. “We will be watching the games of tzykanion within the next few weeks here at the palace. We will be pleased for you to attend, Sir Guy.”

  “I shall be honored. Sire. Sir Talon has played Arab Polo. I am informed that he is very good at it. May I bring him too?”

  This last comment was greeted with a low murmur of surprise from those present.

  Manuel raised his eyebrows and looked at Talon as though reappraising him. “The game of tzykanion is not the same as that of the Arabs, Sir Talon, but as you will see it is somewhat similar. I am sure you’ll enjoy watching it. I did not know you Franks played Polo with the Arabs, Sir Guy. That is interesting. I thought you were at war.”

  Sir Guy had the wits to remain silent, but he bowed his head just a little in acknowledgement of the barb.

  “The sport that was given us from the Frankish lands was that of jousting,” Manuel continued. “I myself have taken part in this and enjoy it, although my officials disapprove, but I have not met a Frank who could play the ‘Game of Kings’ before.” He seemed to be amused as though he did not quite believe Sir Guy, but he was in an expansive mood. “Bring all your people, Sir Guy. We would like to entertain you while you are here.”

  He looked as though he was about to dismiss them when the chamberlain moved forward and whispered to him.

  “Ah, yes, I had almost forgotten. We wish to invite you and Sir Talon here to a banquet this evening in honor of the Empress. We can discuss the other matter at a later date, Sir Guy.”

  Sir Guy bowed low. “I thank you, your Majesty. I will be honored to attend.”

  They bowed themselves out of the chamber.

  *****

  That evening Sir Guy and Talon, accompanied by their two sergeants, presented themselves at the main entrance to the Great Palace. By now Talon knew that this place name embraced at least five palaces he had heard mentioned. An officer who stood with the sentries inspecting papers at the doorway scrutinized the letter provided by the chamberlain. He waved them through without taking their weapons this time and motioned for a eunuch to lead them to the palace where the banquet was to be held.

  Led by the eunuch, who was dressed in expensive colorful clothes that made the Templars look plain by comparison, they made their way along corridors and across wide, echoing hallways to their destination. The bustle of the day had been replaced by activity in places other than the huge administrative complex.

  It was not long before they heard the murmur of many voices as they approached the entrance to another enormous room. It was as richly furnished as the audience chamber but somewhat smaller, and contained several large tables placed right in the center of the room. There were two chairs for the royals placed upon a low platform that overlooked the tables used by the guests. The thrones were placed to face the room but behind a low table.

  From the glazed marble floor to the distant roof, the walls were decorated with frescoes depicting the royal families of previous generations and charioteer races. Ubiquitous among all the artwork were the saints and the members of the Patriarchy, all of whom were decorated with golden haloes. The chamber was ablaze with hundreds of oil lamps.

  The eunuch led them along the central corridor covered by priceless hand woven carpets towards the banquet table where other guests were already seated. The two sergeants were officially on duty, so they joined the guards standing along the wall to the chamber. The Templars were to be treated as special guests, seated near to the high table of the Emperor and his Empress.

  Sir Guy was on a nodding acquaintance with several of the guests and he greeted in a friendly manner Alexios Bryennios, the Prefect of the City, and John Komateros. These were the men with whom Sir Guy had been working over the details of the marriage alliance. They nodded and smiled at Sir Guy as he and Talon sat down. Talon realized that the negotiations must have gone reasonably well if they were to have a dinner with the royal family.

  They heard the sound of trumpets and a eunuch announced the arrival of the Emperor and his Empress. All stood while Manuel with his Empress Maria made their entrance. There was no special fanfare; they walked in and greeted the guests, then when they had been seated, Manuel waved his hand and the guests took their seats. The moment the Emperor sat down to dine they heard the sound of flutes and pipes in the background. The gargantuan feast got underway in a most orderly manner.

  *****

  Talon and Sir Guy made their way back to the inn in a state of bemused as
tonishment at the huge variety of food that had appeared and disappeared in front of them. They had learned belatedly that one only took a small portion each time a dish appeared under one’s nose, as to eat the whole plate required speed and left one with little room for the next, which arrived the moment the Emperor decided that he was ready for another.

  “I swear that the only dish I really remember from the feast is that fish,” Talon said and burped as though to emphasize his statement.

  “You mean the fish stew, the one called Kakavia?” Sir Guy asked as he stopped to take in the view, for the moon was high and the sight north of the city at this time of night was worth the pause.

  “I had thought we would be discussing the marriage at the feast.”

  “No, we were simply placed high at the table as a mark of regard. It can do us no harm,” Sir Guy said.

  Talon remembered how remote from the guests the royal couple had been. The food that came their way was sealed before it left the kitchens and only unsealed by a eunuch just before it was very carefully placed in front of them. They would take a nibble and then wave the food away. It was almost comical, because the guests could barely get hold of a morsel before it too would be whisked away and another equally delicious, mouthwatering serving was placed in its stead. Thus there had been little conversation at the great feast. The guests had been concentrating on eating what they could get their forks to in a timely manner.

  __________

  THERE stretcheth by the sea

  A fair Eubœan shore, and o'er it creeps

  The vine of Bacchus, each day's growth complete.

  In morning brightness all the land is green

  With tendrils fair and spreading. Noontide comes,

  And then the unripe cluster forms apace:

  The day declines, and purple grow the grapes;

  At eve the whole bright vintage is brought in,

  And the mixed wine poured out.

  Sophocles

  Chapter 9

  Stone Work

  Sir Guy, being of a pious disposition, never tired of visiting churches and the massive monuments, be they Christian structures or the ancient temples of past gods or the memorials that were to be found in almost every corner of the city, and Talon was eagerly shared that interest.

  He pointed to the complex of domes and pillars of the Grand Palace in the distance and asked Sir Guy, “Is that where the Emperor lives?”

  Sir Guy shook his head. “No, not any longer. They used to, but now the Emperor and his Empress live at the other end of the city. It is possible that the Blachernae Palace is a much quieter area of the city. The Great Palace is now where the government of the empire is conducted.”

  Talon had to digest that, then he asked, “Does he rule by decree like the King or a Sultan?”

  “There was a time when the Emperor used to have to go to the senate for consultation before he undertook a great task like war. Today it is different. He rules and they agree.” He gave his slow smile.

  Talon laughed. “Then it is by decree.”

  “It is complicated but very efficient, because there is much that he does not have to concern himself with and that is taken care of by officials at the Great Palace. I could swear that every administrator there who deals with money or taxes or organization, such as for armies and the provisions for the navy, is a eunuch,” Sir Guy said with a dry laugh. “The Emperor simply makes a statement and they implement it, but that gives them great power too.”

  *****

  Sir Guy had to go off to the Great Palace to negotiate with the Greeks for the conditions of the dowry. Talon begged off from that arduous task and contented himself with walking among the crowded avenues. He would take Martin with him on occasion, as it was clear from the young monk’s demeanor that he enjoyed every minute of these expeditions.

  Once their curiosity took them down an unusual street. Hitherto Talon had seen all the usual trappings of an industrious city: the leather makers at their tanneries and the stink of urine that went with them, the shops of pottery workers and of carpenters, where they saw the most incredible carvings he had ever seen and which made Martin almost drool as his hands caressed the smooth curved shapes of animals and designs.

  This street, however, was one of the quietest they had ventured into; everywhere they looked they could see great blocks of marble, limestone and alabaster lying in open yards alongside the street. Most of the waiting blocks had grass growing all around them, indicating that they had been there a long time. There was even a large wagon parked against a wall with a huge block of white stone tied to it but no activity nearby. As they walked down the street, passing open doorways, hearing the sound of crying babies, and observing little urchins watching them from the steps, they heard voices and the tap-tapping of metal tools on stone. Approaching a large archway that led into an enclosed yard, they saw that it was full of men sitting, squatting and standing on top of ladders tapping away at stone statues and forms of every size and shape.

  A man in a short tunic and a leather apron around his waist into which he had placed his tools in fitted pockets noticed them and beckoned them in. Martin shot a look at Talon, who nodded, and they stepped into the yard. The man smiled and asked them a question, but neither understood. He repeated the question more slowly this time, and this time they both understood. Martin pointed to Talon.

  “He is a Templar, we are from Palestine,” he said in Greek, smiling at the man.

  “Ah! You are here to visit our fair city.” He nodded and clapped his hands together, creating a small cloud of dust, then he offered his hand for them to clasp. His palm was as hard and dry as a piece of weathered wood. He was covered in dust from the top of his gray head of hair to his sandals, but his smile was welcoming.

  “You like the stone work?” he asked with a gap-toothed smile, waving his arms at the activity all around. Talon glanced about and noted that many of the workers were mere boys. They were covered from head to foot with stone dust making them look oddly white.

  Martin nodded happily. “I admire stone work. We use limestone in my home country.” The man seemed pleased and then proceeded to show them about the yard. Talon noted that Martin seemed enthralled by the intricate work they were witnessing and unable to keep his fingers off the smooth finished work.

  Finally the man, whose name they had discovered was Sabas, brought them in front of a complex piece of stonework and stopped.

  “This is for the palace, and we are behind with the work but it is almost finished, as you can see.”

  They could see, and Talon was amused to note that Martin, while he blushed like a girl, was unable to take his eyes off the finely finished and smoothed piece in front of them.

  It was a half-sized stone statuette of a slim nymph standing near to a pond leaning over with one delicate hand poised to touch a huge carp that had its head out of the water and its mouth open. Her body was draped with a tunic which was clearly was not meant to hide her form. Talon was astonished to note how well the stonemason had captured the expression of deep tenderness on her features that were framed by hair that had begun to escape from its combs. Her feet were encased in sandals, which were perfectly cut, while her shape was that of a lissome young woman.

  Martin was blushing furiously and glanced guiltily at Talon, who was watching him and returned the look with an amused smile. Talon was very surprised when Martin reached out and touched the stone, almost caressing it. “It is so beautiful. How it is done to this detail I cannot tell.”

  He turned to Sabas. “Who made this?” he asked, his voice full of awe.

  “I and my apprentice.” Sabas shrugged as though it were nothing.

  “You are a master!” Martin exclaimed and clearly meant it.

  Sabas smiled in a depreciating manner and offered them wine, but Talon wanted to rejoin his companions at the inn, as he thought Sir Guy might have returned from his meetings. They bade the stonemason goodbye and made their way back up the street.

>   While they were walking back Martin was silent until finally Talon asked him, “Did you not like the stone work, Martin?”

  The boy turned to look straight at Talon. His hazel eyes were bright with excitement and the look he gave Talon was almost challenging.

  “These creations they have made can only be there because God gave them the inspiration. I love the stonework, I…I almost became a stone worker, but my father, who was a mason, said that the Church was a better place to live and learn. But sometimes I miss the feel of stone and what it feels to make it mine.” His tone became wistful.

  Talon was taken aback by the emotion in the monk’s voice and stopped in the middle of the street.

  “You did not feel they were blasphemy, Martin?”

  Martin shook his head vehemently. “Of course not, Sir Talon. The churches and buildings in this city are akin to a gateway to heaven.” He stopped, his eyes widened as though thought he feared he might have said too much, but Talon took his arm and said, “No, Martin. I agree with you, and wholeheartedly. There is so much beauty here. I cannot get enough of this great city, but…I am surprised that you, a man of the church…of Rome, should say this when your companion, Jonathan seems to find nothing to please him in this city.”

  The monk shook his head. “He is really a good man, Sir Talon, but…he follows the doctrine very closely, and there is disagreement between the churches. He does not care to see beyond that. It does not mean that one should decry their art and creations. We see nothing of this in Acre. I wonder why?”

  *****

  After the first invitation to the villa of the family Kalothesos, Talon found that he was a regular guest. Joannina appeared to like him and invited him to walk with her in the gardens, where she plied him with questions about life in Palestine. He realized after a while that the Greeks yearned for access to the Holy Land but were restrained by the feeling that it was a crude and barbarous place now that the Franks had invested in it with their own people.