‘Who was that?’ asked a stunned Ulfr.
‘That is Theodocranus the Dwarf,’ said Haraldr. ‘He was a famous buffoon in Adrianopolis and promises to succeed here as well.’
Halldor looked down at the Senators, who were still in hysterics over the diminutive clown and were already emulating a few of his more vulgar gestures with the dancers. ‘I believe he already has,’ said Halldor wryly. ‘This Theodocranus the Dwarf is likely to be our next Senator. How do you know him? He doesn’t seem like one of Maria’s friends.’
‘He is my petitioner.’ Haradlr folded his arms and smiled smugly.
‘What?’ Ulfr groaned. ‘Now we will be forced to stay here, but in the Numera Prison instead of the Numera barracks.’
‘So you think,’ said Haraldr confidently. ‘I believe the Emperor will find Theodocranus a man of exceptional eloquence.’ This statement was greeted with incredulous head shaking, and Haraldr sat down to share his insight. ‘I have observed that the Emperor hates dealing with anyone who reveals any kind of serious intent. If a minister comes to him with a well-conceived plan to drive the Seljuks out of Taron theme, the Monomach will scowl and throw that minister out before he can finish the introduction to his discourse. But send a one-legged comic in there to stutter the latest banter from the market-place, and the Monomach is all ears. I believe Theodocranus will get the Monomach’s attention in a way that I never could.’
Haraldr watched the dancers for a while, hoping that Theodocranus was having a successful interview. After a quarter hour of waiting, the Imperial Chamberlain approached. ‘Hetairarch, His Majesty would like to see you.’
Haraldr was escorted into the modest hall of the house, then to a dressing chamber where the Monomach stood in his purple scaramangium and smoothed his luxuriant silver hair. Theodocranus stood on a chair placed directly in front of the Emperor and held up a bronze mirror for his sovereign. He had just begun a ribald jest about the Emperor’s notorious sexual appetite. ‘The Emperor visited the Imperial stables,’ prattled Theodocranus in his warbling voice. ‘He saw that one of his prize stallions couldn’t hump the mare he had been penned to stud. The Emperor asked the stallion what was wrong and the stallion said, “I am afraid of losing it in there.” The Emperor pulled his out to show the stallion and said, “I’ve put this in many a mare of my own, and look, it is still here.” The stallion’s eyes grew wide when he saw how the Pantocrator had endowed the Monomach, and he said to the Emperor, “Well, if mine was that big, I certainly wouldn’t be worried about losing it, either!” ‘ Theodocranus clapped his stubby hands and Haraldr winced. The Monomach clutched his stomach in a paroxysm of mirth, finally tumbling to the floor in comic rapture.
Haraldr waited until His Majesty had recovered his breath; however, the Emperor seemed in no hurry to get to his feet again. Finally Haraldr said, ‘Majesty, has Theodocranus mentioned to you the matter--’
The Monomach held up a powerful, squarish hand. ‘Yes, yes, Hetairarch, my dear little friend here has presented the matter with a delicacy and subtlety you would do well to emulate. And therefore I have agreed to consider the matter.’ Haraldr waited while the Emperor wiped the tears from his eyes; His Majesty remained on his haunches. ‘Oh, well, quite,’ said the Monomach, suddenly remembering what he had just said. ‘I am amenable to the matter if your Mother Zoe is. You know how devoted I am to her happiness. Yes, I fear you are becoming too sober-minded here, Hetairarch. Perhaps you do need a winter in Thule to help you appreciate the delights of the Imperial Court.’ The Emperor held out his arms to Theodocranus, who bounded into the Imperial embrace like a small, cuddly child. The Monomach covered the dwarf’s squat face with friendly kisses. ‘Now, my little friend!’ The Emperor chortled with renewed enthusiasm. ‘Tell what I did when a dozen naked whores awakened me in the middle of the night!’
Maria’s hand felt like a dry, warm cloud in his. She led him up the gently rolling slope towards the back porch of her villa. Along the narrow path, grapevines grew in neat, perpendicular rows, and she paused and stooped to examine a cluster of dark, heavy grapes polished like agates by the bright late-afternoon sun. Maria plucked one and popped it in her mouth. ‘I will drink from this vine again,’ she said. ‘I know I will.’ She clutched Haraldr and gave him a kiss, wet and sweet with the juice of the grape. ‘When we visit from Norway.’
Haraldr held her and stroked her thick, silky black braids. He had not even brought her Argyrus’s uncharacteristic offer of a good price for her villa; he knew that she would need this place as a symbol and a hope when she was so far from home. ‘We have not been given leave yet,’ he told her. ‘We may yet drink this harvest. This winter.’
She tilted her chin up against his chest. Her eyes were more perfectly azure than the sky. ‘I am not melancholy about leaving,’ she said defensively. ‘You do not need to lift my spirits with such doubts. Zoe has already given her permission once. And I am ready to sail. I would like to give you a child before I am an old woman.’
Haraldr kissed her forehead and shared that vision. They held each other tightly and rocked in the breeze. After a while Maria turned her chin up again. ‘I can hear your troubles pounding away in your chest, King Haraldr. Are you thinking about the lifetime of cares I will bring you?’
‘I am worrying about beginning that lifetime. I am . . .’ He squinted into the sun. ‘I am worried about the length of that lifetime.’
Maria pulled loose and took his hand again and led him to the steps on the sunny southern porch, which afforded them a panorama of the glitter-sprinkled cities to the south-west and the vineyards and cypress groves to the east. She sat beside him and looped her arm in his. ‘Tell me what concerns you,’ she said. ‘Leave nothing out.’
Haraldr watched a dhromon slide past on the Bosporus, banks of oars dipping leisurely, the red-and-black hull and deadly golden spouts vivid. His sigh was his preface. ‘Zoe is not the same Zoe. So much has happened to her.’
‘I know things are different with her. And I have not been able to … I don’t know. I have forgiven you for sleeping with her, which is the least I can offer, since you have forgiven me … Mar. But I cannot … I knew she was opposed to you, and I thought I understood. But for her to then take you to her bed, when she knew that I still loved you. And she knew that you still loved me. I cannot forgive … I know it is wrong, and I know I will one day understand. But it is hard for me now.’ Maria found his hand and twined her fingers in his. ‘It is of no consequence. You will obtain her leave, and if you do not, I will. I persuaded her to embrace her sister, and they are still as thick as thieves, particularly now that the insatiable Monomach has found a new amusement. I can certainly persuade her to release me.’ Maria kissed Haraldr’s temple. ‘So I am confident that we will soon begin our lifetime. Why do you worry that our time together will be brief?’ She asked the question matter-of-factly, almost gaily.
Haraldr hung his head and looked at his boots. ‘I have made the east-journey. I grant you that our return will not be as dangerous as our coming, since the Pecheneg horde will not expect us, and our ships will be light and few enough that we can more easily avoid the cataracts. But it is still an enormously dangerous journey.’
Maria jabbed Haraldr in the ribs. ‘I am worried about encountering your little love, the Princess Elisevett, when we arrive safely in Kiev. She is probably not so little any more. She might try to poison me. And you might be smitten by her again.’