Never having been one to turn the other cheek to slights no matter how small, I might under other circumstances have felt the same. When I did not, I wondered why, and realized I wanted to wait until Neboulos's special army should be ready before warring against the Arabs. Only then did I fully understand how much hope I had for that army.
"The tribute will stop, at least for a while, when we do go to war against the deniers of Christ," I reminded him. "I want to be certain we have enough in the treasury to fight for a long time even without the tribute's coming in, and also to run the state afterwards without it."
"You may depend on me for that," Stephen the Persian said. "I should also note that my colleague Theodotos, whom I commended to you before, has proved most ingenious in gaining for the fisc all taxes due it."
"Good," I told him. "Congratulate him on his diligence. Gold will be scarce when the Arabs leave off paying tribute. However large a store of nomismata we can build in advance will help us pay for the war. We must get this money, by whatever means prove necessary."
"By whatever means prove necessary," Stephen repeated. "You may depend on me- and on Theodotos- for that."
He was as good as his word, and so was Theodotos, who proved so capable, I promoted him to general logothete, a position of equal rank to Stephen's. Over the next few months, petitions pertaining to the collection of taxes increased sharply. So did the anguished tone of those petitions. When handing me one sheaf of them, the logothete in charge of petitions, a white-bearded bureaucrat named Sisinniakes who might have served the Empire since the days of my great-great-grandfather, said, "Emperor, these people hate your tax collectors so much, they and others like them are liable to end up hating you, too."
If I had not heeded that advice from my mother, I would not heed it from Sisinniakes, either. I stared at him until he lowered his eyes and muttered in embarrassment at having spoken out of turn. "The fisc must be served," I said. "Those who seek to cheat it of its rightful due must be discovered and made to pay in full. Remember, your pay comes from the treasury, too." He bowed and withdrew, leaving the petitions behind.
More soon came in to the palace: fools kept grumbling because the state that protected them from the ravages of the barbarians and the followers of the false prophet could not do so free of cost. But Sisinniakes was right at least to the extent that even the grumbling of fools could prove dangerous. And so, summoning Stephen and Theodotos to the throne room in the grand palace, I allowed some of those alleging my officials had wronged them to come before me and try to convince me they were right.
Stephen, as was his wont, dressed richly: he had the love of ostentation so common among eunuchs. His undertunic was of gold silk, the robe he wore over it of green. Gold rings gleamed on his fingers; a heavy gold chain stretched around his fat neck. The buckles of his sandals were also of gold.
Theodotos, by contrast, wore a plain black wool robe, as if he were still back in the Thracian monastery from which he had come. He was tall and thin and pale, a pallor accentuated not only by the robe but also by his hair (one lock of which kept flopping down over his forehead) and his long, thick, beard, which were both the color of pitch. His cheeks were hollow, he continuing to practice an ascetic way of life here in Constantinople, while his eyes, though dark, glowed as if from an inner fire.
The first to protest against his exactions was a certain Artavasdos, a wine merchant. After prostrating himself before me, he pointed at Theodotos and said, his voice quivering with fury, "Emperor, inside that monkish robe dwells a wolf. Do you know what he did to me? Do you know?"
"I collected the monies due the fisc," Theodotos said calmly. He sounded, as he usually did, as if he knew precisely what he was doing and would proceed on that course without hesitation. No wonder, then, I favored him, my own mind running in similar channels.
Artavasdos leaped into the air, a remarkable turn for such a short, plump man. "He came to my shop, Emperor, with soldiers. They tied my hands together with ropes and hung me up over a beam. Then they piled sawdust and chaff and such under me and lighted them with a lamp. They smoked me, Emperor, like a ham they smoked me over the fire, till I thought I was going to die, to make me tell them where I hid my money."
I turned to Theodotos, who was sorting through sheets of papyrus. "What have you to say about this matter?"
"Emperor, Artavasdos son of Symbatios owed the fisc the sum of "- a long, pale finger slid down the list of names he was holding-"twenty-four and seven-twelfths nomismata, said arrears having accumulated over the period of four years. After my visit to him, his debt to the treasury was paid in full."
"Did you owe this sum?" I asked Artavasdos.
His already swarthy face grew darker yet, rage suffusing it. He pointed at Theodotos again. "What he did, Emperor, only a monster would do, not a human being. I was choking in the smoke, coughing, wheezing, my shoulders like to be torn out of their sockets, and he stood there laughing- laughing, I tell you."
"Do you deny owing the fisc these twenty-four nomismata?" I demanded.
Suddenly getting my drift, Artavasdos stopped blustering. "No," he said in a small voice.
"Did he and the fisc take any more money than was owed?" I asked.
"No, Emperor," Theodotos said, and, most reluctantly, the wine seller agreed.
"Get out of here!" I shouted. "Get out of here and give thanks to the merciful Mother of God that I don't tear out your cheating tongue. You dare to rob the treasury, and then complain when you're caught? Good Theodotos here should have smoked you into ham, for you're a swine wallowing in the trough of our generosity. Get out!"
Court ceremonial forgotten, Artavasdos left at a dead run. He might even have been faster than John of Cyprus. Several men who I thought might be petitioners also hastily departed without pleading their cases before me. But one group in tunics plainly their best and as plainly none too good did come before me. Having completed their prostrations, they rose. Their spokesman, a loutish fellow as shabbily dressed as the rest, said, "Emperor, I'm called Ioannakis." Whoever had styled him little John had done so on the principle of contrariness, for he was large and burly, with a wrestler's shoulders. He went on, "I'm one of the heads of the carpenters' guild, and these here are some of my boys." His companions nodded.
He spoke a rough Greek, of a kind seldom heard in the grand palace, but seemed to be doing his best to be polite with it. "Say on," I told him.
Ioannakis pointed to Stephen the Persian; a lot of men pointed fingers in the throne room that day. "Emperor, that fellow is a bad one," he said. "He cut our pay for some of the repair work we've been doing here at the palace, and when we complained about it, he set ruffians throwing stones on us. Look and see for yourself." He pulled up one sleeve of his tunic, displaying a jagged, poorly healed scar on the big muscle of his upper arm.
"Emperor, the pay for these workmen comes from your privy purse," Stephen said smoothly when I looked a question at him. "I discovered them working more slowly than they should have, and adjusted their wages accordingly."
"That's a lie!" Ioannakis shouted, and several of the men with him shook their fists at Stephen and bawled coarse curses. "We were doing fine till he stuck his pointy nose in where it didn't belong, looking for ways to make us hungrier. Don't see him looking any too hungry," he added, staring insolently at Stephen's plump prosperity.
Imperturbable, the eunuch said, "It is not a lie. The work to be completed would not be finished by the time assigned, necessitating the reduction in wages previously mentioned. Following the reduction, the workers threatened to damage such work as they had already done. I found a way to force them from the area without summoning soldiers and provoking worse bloodshed."