I have had thicker heads than the one with which I woke up the next day- a few. Headache or no, though, I remembered what Theodora had said before I passed out. We still lay side by side. Shaking her, I asked the same question I had put the night before: "What did you learn of Papatzun's slaves?"
She woke smoothly, as was her usual habit, nor, for that matter, had she drunk herself into crapulence. "You do recall." She sounded surprised. "If I thought you would, I would have told you last night. Papatzun has"- her face went cold and sad-"has brought Balgitzin orders to kill you whenever he gets the command from, from-"
"From your brother," I finished for her.
"Yes," she said, and looked away from me. I heard tears in her voice as she went on, "I knew he could do this. I did not think he would do this."
Not all the blood pounding in my head sprang from the hangover, not now. Part of that painful drumroll was fury. "Your brother can give orders, but he is in Atil, far away," I said. "His commands will take time to be obeyed. I am right here. I intend to be ready to move tonight."
She did not, at first, fully grasp what I was saying, being caught up in the choices she had made. "He is my brother," she whispered- probably to hers elf, for she used the Khazar tongue, "but you are my husband. You are my husband."
I took her in my arms. "And very glad of it, too," I said. Had it not been for her, no doubt Ibouzeros Gliabanos, Papatzun, and Balgitzin should have succeeded in making away with me. But that was not what I meant, or was, at most, a tiny part of it. I have never heard the act of love praised as a cure for too much wine, but it served me admirably.
Much improved, and knowing now what lay before me, I summoned Myakes. He and Theodora and I spent much of the morning making plans, finding holes in them, and making new ones. At last we had a scheme that satisfied everyone- except Theodora.
"You will leave me behind," she said bitterly.
I nodded. "I will. If I win after tonight, as God is my witness and my judge I will send for you. And if I lose, you will be able to go home safely to your brother. He will treat you well regardless of what happens here. You are blood of his blood, as I am not, and your child will carry my blood as well, which may prove useful to him one day. That, though, is only if I lose." I kissed her, right there in front of Myakes, and, I daresay, scandalized him. "I intend to win."
The feast I laid on that night rivaled the one Balgitzin had given the night before. The food, in my judgment, was better, being cooked in the Roman fashion rather than that of the Khazars. Papatzun might not have found it better, but he found no fault with it, either, not by how much he ate. He drank as heroically as he had the night before, too.
Through Theodora, who was interpreting between us, he said, "You drank me down last night, Justinian, but tonight you are not even in the race. Do you Romans save it up for one night and then give over? A true man is ready to drink every night!" He drained his cup and held it out for more.
I rose as if to fill it myself, carrying the wine jar as I went round behind him. But instead of pouring at once, I set the jar down on the table. Papatzun looked back over his shoulder at me, drunken puzzlement on his face.
Setting down the jar let me free the braided leather cord I was using as a belt for my tunic. His turning his head at just that moment gave me the perfect chance to whip that cord around his thick neck. I tightened it with all the strength I had in me.
Papatzun tried to cry out. He could not- I gave him no air. He tried to reach around himself to seize me and throw me aside, but could not do that, either. His feet thumped on the floor. They grew still surprisingly fast. His face went from the red of drunkenness to a purplish black I had not seen since the Sklavinian woman hanged herself in my pavilion.
Not until the stench of loosening bowels proved him dead did I relax my grip. Then, letting him topple over, I turned to Myakes and Theodora, belting the leather cord back around my waist as I did so. My grin might have been the one on my face after having a woman. "One traitor dealt with," I said. "Now for the other."
Before I could go out the door, Theodora embraced me, saying, "God with you."
"God with us all," I said, not knowing whether I would ever see her again.
When Myakes and I burst outside, the guards Balgitzin set over me, who had been drinking wine and shooting dice by torchlight, sprang to their feet. "What is wrong?" asked the one who spoke the best Greek.
I jerked a thumb back at the house. "Papatzun has been taken ill in there," I said, that bearing at least some nodding relation to the truth. I followed it with a thoroughgoing lie: "He's asking for Balgitzin- says it's life or death."
In the excitement of the moment, none of the guards asked any questions past that. They did what they usually did: told off a couple from their number to accompany me wherever I was going. One of them carried a torch, adding its light to that from the one Myakes carried.
We hurried through the streets of Phanagoria to Balgitzin's residence, where, arriving, we pounded on the door. One of Balgitzin's servitors answering, we told him the same tale we had given the guards.
Balgitzin came out a few minutes later. "What's wrong with Papatzun?" he asked as we started back to the house he had assigned me.
"His belly pains him," I answered. "He has been vomiting, and fears he might die. He says he needs to tell you something. I do not know what it is."
He sent me a hooded glance, wondering, no doubt, if the message pertained to me. Then we pressed on. As far as he knew, I was ignorant of the orders concerning me Papatzun had brought from Ibouzeros Gliabanos. I hid a smile, not that the torchlight was likely to betray it in any case. Soon enough, I would show him what I knew.
We passed the black mouth of an alley opening out onto the street along which we traveled. I stopped and recoiled. "What's that?" I exclaimed, pointing down the alley. "Something- someone- moved in there."
Balgitzin turned toward the alley. The Khazar guard held his torch higher, the better to see down the narrow, stinking lane. Out came Myakes' sword, as if to defend us from footpads.
While Balgitzin stood distracted, I undid my braided belt and whipped it around his neck without giving him the chance to cry out. Strangling is the best way to kill a man when one must be silent doing it. Balgitzin got out no more than one startled, almost inaudible grunt.
Myakes, being without a strangling cord, did the best he could with his blade. Using point rather than edge, he thrust deep into the guard's throat, blood thereby drowning whatever outcry the man might have made. The Khazar dropped the torch and tried to draw his own sword, but toppled into unconsciousness and death with a hand still on the hilt.
I choked the life out of Balgitzin. When his bowels voided their contents as Papatzun's had done, I let his corpse lie in the street along with the rest of the offal there.
Ever practical, Myakes slit his purse and the guard's. "Heh," he said, his whisper loud in the quiet night. "Even a little gold here. And they may think- for a few minutes they may think- somebody else killed these two and kidnapped us. The more time we can buy to get away, the better off we're going to be."
"No arguments," I said. We hurried off toward the eastern gate of Phanagoria- the direction opposite that in which we would have been expected to flee, our friends dwelling in Kherson to the west- and I put my head down to make my features harder to recognize, reeling along as if drunk.
"Here, what's this?" a guard called on our approach.
"Got to get my cousin here back to Tomin," Myakes answered, sounding drunk himself. "Tavern there weren't good enough for him, no, sir- had to come taste the big city, the damn fool. Well, he's still got to go out fishing tomorrow morning, yes he does, no matter how much he had tonight." His chuckle was full of malicious pleasure at my fate.