"A carpenter's saw?" the fellow exclaimed. By the way he recoiled from me, he found the idea more nearly appalling than appealing. Executioners are, from my dealings with them, a conservative lot, very much set in their ways.
Leontios's body kept twitching a good deal longer than Apsimaros's had done, whether because the executioner had required two strokes rather than one or simply because he was too stupid to realize he was dead I could not say. Helpful still, the executioner gave the excubitores another one of those baskets in which to carry Leontios's head, then went off to wash the blood from his blade and examine the edge for nicks to be honed away before his next tour of duty.
I watched as the excubitores set the heads of Leontios and Apsimaros on pikes in front of the Milion. Placards proclaimed their crimes to the crowd. Turning to Myakes, I said, "Amazing how far two heads go to make up for ten long years of misery."
"So it is, Emperor," he said. "Now that you've avenged-"
"Avenged?" I broke in. "Not yet!"
"But\a160…" Myakes hesitated, as well he might have, before going on. "You've dealt with the patriarch, there's Leontios and Apsimaros, you've already taken care of Apsimaros's brother, there are all those dead officers-"
I interrupted again: "Plenty more where they came from, by God and His Son, and I aim to root out every one of them, too. I've hardly started sweeping the bureaucracy clean of traitors, and you know what I owe the Khersonites. I'll give it to them, too; see if I don't. I am not yet avenged, Myakes. I have barely begun."
"Can't you let this be enough, what you've already done?" he said.
"While one who opposed me remains alive, it is not enough," I replied. "Treason is a wart on the face of the Roman Empire, and I will cut it off."
Hearing the iron in my voice, he bowed his head. "Yes, Emperor," he said quietly.
MYAKES
I did try, Brother Elpidios. I thought, when he came back to power, he would get rid of the two usurpers and the most important people who had backed them, and then he'd get on with the business of being Emperor again.
It didn't happen. I wish it had. But he'd been thinking about revenge, eating revenge, drinking revenge, breathing revenge, dreaming revenge, all the time he'd been in exile. Once he got the chance to take it, he took and took and\a160…
This wasn't the only time I tried to get him to slow down, to think about what he was doing, to see if maybe he'd had enough. You just saw how much good it did me. As time went on, I tried less and less often. What, Brother? The sin of despairing? Well, maybe it was. The sin of not being listened to, that's certain.
With winter wearing on toward spring, the logothete in charge of petitions approached me with a rolled-up parchment. This was no longer the elderly- indeed, the ancient- Sisinniakes, who had died during my years in exile, but a certain Philotheos, the successor appointed by one of the usurpers. Thus far, having nothing more against him than that fact, I had permitted him to remain in office.
After prostrating himself and gaining my permission to rise, he handed me the parchment, saying, "Emperor, this petition for return from exile comes to you from an island in the Ionian Sea, Kephallenia by name. The petitioner is a certain Bardanes, son of the patrician Nikephoros, who, he writes, is also sometimes known as Philippikos." Seeing me stir, Philotheos said, "Am I to gather that this man is known to you, Emperor?"
"I first met him almost twenty years ago," I answered.
"Ah. I see." The logothete coughed delicately. "Are you aware of the crime for which he was sent into exile on this distant, inhospitable island?"
"Yes, word of that reached me in the distant, inhospitable land to which I was sent into exile," I said, which served to take Philotheos's toploftiness down a peg. "He dreamt of an eagle, and Apsimaros heard about it."
"This is correct." Philotheos licked his lips in anticipation of what would follow. "Do I assume, therefore, that, should you deign to recall him, you shall to so to requite him as you did those two whose heads remain on display at the Milion?" His tone said he had confidence in the assumption.
So much confidence had he, indeed, that his jaw dropped on my saying, "No." I went on, "I gave the usurpers what they deserved: they were my foes. Bardanes Philippikos always served me well. Not only do I intend recalling him, but I shall restore him to the rank formerly his. Prepare for my signature the necessary orders for his release and convey them to the governor of Kephallenia, whoever he may be." The island and its affairs, such as they were, had before that moment not drawn my notice since my return to Constantinople.
Looking flabbergasted, Philotheos went off to do as I had ordered of him. From behind me, I heard another cough. I turned to find Myakes' face set in disapproving lines, as it often was at that time. "Emperor, Bardanes has done well enough on Kephallenia all these years," he said. "Why don't you leave him there for the rest of his days?"
"Now that the whole Roman Empire recognizes me as Emperor once more, I can repay all my debts," I answered: "the ones I owe to those who wronged me, and the ones I owe to those who served me well. When we were campaigning in Thrace, Bardanes might well have saved my life from that Sklavinian hidden in the river."
Myakes snorted. "The only thing that poor barbarian wanted was for the lot of us to go away so he could run without anybody seeing him. He was about as dangerous as a weanling calf."
"You were jealous then of the favor I showed him," I said. "Are you still, after so many years?"
"Call it whatever you please." He stubbornly stuck out his chin. "I say that anybody who dreams of becoming Emperor isn't safe to have around. Let him stay on his island and imagine he's Emperor of that."
"I told Philotheos what to do," I said. "He is doing it. When Bardanes returns, I may use him. He was a good commander. Deny it if you can."
"I don't like it." As was often true, Myakes did not know when to yield.
"I did not ask whether you liked it. I explained my reasons for doing it, which is more than you deserve. I have made my will clear, and my will shall be done. Do you understand that, Myakes?"
He bowed his head at last. How could he do otherwise? I was- I am- the Emperor.
MYAKES
He would have done better to listen to me, Brother Elpidios, then and some other times, too. Or maybe in the end it wouldn't have mattered, anyway. No way of telling that, not really. If you change one thing, most of the others stay the same. You never can know, not for certain.
But, considering how things ended up, I wish Bardanes had stayed on Kephallenia.
All winter long, I had been making plans for Theodora's entrance into Constantinople- and for that of little Tiberius, too. I wanted to see my wife's face as I paraded her down the Mese. From Atil and from Phanagoria, she imagined she knew what the imperial city was like. I smiled whenever I thought of that: she was like a man who, having seen two copper folleis, fancied he could tell his neighbors about a gold nomisma.
I also wanted to remind her how much I valued her, and to show I cared for her still, despite my having returned to the heart of the civilized world. Accordingly, as soon as spring approached, I sent Theophylaktos the eunuch to Phanagoria with a good-sized fleet to take my wife from Ibouzeros Gliabanos and bring her back to the imperial city.
No one said a word to me about the earliness of the season. When I commanded the fleet to sail, sail it did. Having been away from Theodora for most of a year, I was impatient to have her by my side once more, and even more impatient to set eyes on the son I had never seen. I knew, too, that the fleet would have some considerable layover in Phanagoria while Theodora came thither from whatever part of Khazaria to which she had removed herself- Atil, most likely- on my departure from Phanagoria for the land of the Bulgars.