"Unless you make them so afraid, they think striking at you is a better bet than waiting to see what you do next," Myakes said.
"If I kill enough of them- once I kill enough of them- the rest will be too cowed to let a thought like that enter their minds," I said. Myakes looked as if he wanted to argue further; I cut him off by saying to Stephen, "Take us back to the harbor. We're through here."
"Yes, Emperor," he said, and gave the oarsmen their orders.
On my return to the Blakhernai palace, Theodora asked, "All good?"
"All good," I answered. "We have a couple of sacks left over, as a matter of fact." I explained about the bureaucrat who leaped into the sea before the excubitores could give him his new, all-encircling cloak, and wondered whether God would condemn him as a suicide. That done, I finished, "If you have anyone in mind for a leftover, let me know, and I'll tend to it."
"I think about it," she answered seriously.
Having made it clear to the people- and, most of all, to the people possessed of authority- in Constantinople that I aimed to rule as King Stork rather than King Log, I was afforded few opportunities over the next couple of years to exhibit storklike behavior, as no one dared risk my displeasure in any way. Life was good.
This is not to say the executioners spent those two years drowsing in the sun and letting their swords rust. Traitors kept emerging, some being denounced to me while others I ferreted out on my own. A few heads were usually on display at the Milion. But I saw no further need for such salutary and sanguinary lessons as I had administered after my banquets.
Matters touching on the neighbors of the Roman Empire also remained largely quiet during that time. The Bulgars came south over the border into Romania a couple of times, but the raids were no more than nuisances. I wondered if they were Tervel's way of gaining some of the booty my successful return to the throne had cost him. Whenever I sent complaints, the raids stopped\a160… for a while.
In the east, Oualid proved a less aggressive ruler of the deniers of Christ than Abimelekh had been before him. He did despoil the churches of Damascus of their wealth, and also, in his arrogance, supplanted Greek in his chancery with the Arabs' own barbarous and guttural tongue. The previous miscalled commander of the faithful had attempted the same measure, only to abandon it on discovering how ill-suited to the task Arabic was. Oualid, with barbarous presumption, has persisted and persists even as I write.
Here in the imperial city, Tiberius learned to walk and to talk. He soon proved as strong-willed as any member of my house, shouting "No!" whenever he found himself checked in any way. When shouting failed, he screamed or threw things or tried to bite. Albeit the despair of the servants, he made me quite proud.
The popes of Rome still refused to subscribe to the canons of the fifth-sixth synod. But when Sisinnios, an ancient monk from Syria, died a mere twenty days after being selected bishop of Rome, his successor, Constantine, another Syrian, proved more reasonable in these matters than several of his predecessors had been.
And Constantine and I discovered a common interest not long after he became bishop of Rome. The bishop of Ravenna having joined the majority, Constantine ordained a certain Felix as his successor.
It had long been the custom for each new bishop of Ravenna to give the pope a written pledge of obedience on assuming office. This Felix refused to do, claiming that, Ravenna being the capital of Roman Italy and Rome, as he put it, merely a backwater, he would do as he saw fit, not as Constantine saw fit for him to do. In this assertion he had the strong backing of Stephen, the exarch of Ravenna, the Roman viceroy in Italy.
Just as Felix presumed upon his dependent relationship with the bishop of Rome, so Stephen presumed on his dependent relationship with me. The exarchate of Ravenna by its nature gave the holder of the officer considerable autonomy, but Stephen, far more than other exarchs before him, forgot he was merely the viceroy of the vicegerent of God on earth. Had Felix's rebellion against Constantine succeeded, the next rebellion would have been against me.
Still, I might have been inclined to sit idly by and let Constantine fight his own battles had not Leo said, "Emperor, if you can rid him of this turbulent priest, won't he be more reasonable about your synod?"
"A reasonable pope?" Almost, I was moved to laughter. But Constantine had not made himself nearly so hateful to me as some earlier bishops of Rome- and I had already discovered Leo's talent for underhanded dealings of all sorts. "Well, we shall see."
Ravenna, lying as it does in the middle of a swampy bog, is as nearly impregnable by land as makes no difference. If I was going to bring Stephen and Felix under my control, it would have to be by sea. The nearest Roman ships were in Sicily, under the command of the patrician Theodore, and to him I wrote of my requirements.
He followed my orders perfectly, or better than perfectly. Sailing up to Ravenna with a fleet of dromons, he invited Stephen, Felix, and other local dignitaries to a feast outside the walls. All unsuspecting, they came, whereupon he seized them, got them back to his ship without a man of his being hurt, and brought them to Constantinople.
On their reaching the imperial city, I had them brought to the throne room in the grand palace, which, being far more magnificent than any chamber at the Blakhernai palace, was far more suitable for occasions of solemn grandeur such as this. Theodore, a big, bluff man with a bushy black beard, led in the captives, who were weighted down with chains that clanked at each step they took.
Felix and the other villains threw themselves down on their faces before me, grizzling out cries for mercy. I descended from the gold and emerald-encrusted throne, the pearl prependoulia that dangled from my crown brushing against my cheeks. I kicked Felix in the ribs as he crouched in the posture of prostration. "Mercy?" I shouted, standing over him. "I have no mercy on any of my enemies, and anyone who rebels against the authority of the Roman Empire is an enemy of mine. Look at Leontios. Look at Apsimaros. Look at them and think how easy their ends were next to those you shall have. You knew better, and flouted my will regardless. Death for you- death for you all!"
My courtiers clapped their hands at the sentence. The miscreants from Ravenna groaned and trembled. Theodore, sounding interested, even eager, asked, "What sort of death, Emperor?"
"I'll leave my executioners to please themselves," I replied. "With fire and knives and weights and water, they can make each death different, and every death take a long time. Tomorrow is time enough, though. For tonight, let them- let everyone- think on the fate awaiting them. Take them away!"
Away they went, moaning. Away I went, well pleased with the day's ceremony. They, no doubt, lay on the filthy straw of their cells, their heads full of nightmares over what was to come. I lay on soft linen- and I also dreamt of what lay ahead for them.
In my dream, I saw Bishop Felix as an old man, which he surely would not become did I slay him, his beard being as black as Theodore's. He stumbled toward me, hands outstretched, groping for me, calling my name, begging for continued existence. He touched me- and I awoke.
Theodora's small hand rested on my arm. But I lay some time awake, pondering the message of the dream, and reluctantly concluded I had no choice but to let Felix live, lest I go against God's will by destroying the possibility of his older self. Very well, I said to myself. He shall live. But he shall not go unpunished. I slept soundly the rest of the night.
When morning came, I made the arrangements necessary for my changed plans, then had Felix brought to the Blakhernai palace. The excubitores pushed him down on his face in front of me. "I have decided to spare your life," I said without preamble.