‘Ask, and you shall know,’ he repeated. I got up and went for a chair for him to sit on. Staggering slightly as if from too much wine, I put it down so one of the faint red lines on the floor passed directly beneath it. The guard was watching me with eyes that didn’t seem to blink. Though sitting down, his unsheathed sword rested on his knees. There was one cushion beside the general mass that hadn’t been moved all evening. I could suppose the shock I had in mind would keep the guard in his place long enough for me to go for one of the curtains. Even with a sword, he’d not stand much of a chance against me.
I waited for Chosroes to sit down and made him a reasonably solemn bow. ‘You spoke earlier, Great King,’ I began, ‘of something that is the stuff of dreams to all Christians, and that this would cause the gates of Constantinople to swing open for you. I take it, from the inflexions of your voice, that you were talking about the True Cross. Any chance of letting me see it in the morning?’
He looked back at me. Had I gone too far? No — he put a hand up to his mouth and giggled softly. ‘You don’t miss anything, do you, Alaric?’ he said. ‘I probably should have you crucified as a spy. I might still do that, if Shahin confirms what everyone else believes — that you’re a barefaced liar and are only here to divert me from the approach of a Greek army.’ He looked about for his cup. I got up and carried it to him. I filled it from a jug and sat down close to the unmoved cushion. I had the guard behind me and could hear him settling back after my sudden movement.
Chosroes drank deeply. ‘Getting into Jerusalem last year was hard enough,’ he said. ‘Getting into the Holy Sepulchre Church took three days of fighting. The oldest monks — even the bishops — took up swords and fought like the Spartans at Thermopylae. But Shahrbaraz got there in the end. With his own hands, he ripped the curtain aside and exposed what turned out to be a thirty-pound piece of shrivelled wood — thirty pounds of wood encased in two hundred pounds of gold studded with jewels of inestimable value. I’m glad he didn’t burn it along with the church. My own Christian minority loved me beyond describing when I had it carried through the streets of Ctesiphon. I won’t bore you with the accounts of the miracles worked by it as I rode before it. I don’t imagine you believe it ever formed part of the cross of which the Jewish Carpenter was put to death.’
I got up again and bowed drunkenly. ‘The story is that, when Constantine established the Faith, he let his mother demolish much of Jerusalem in search of relics. Apparently, she found all three crosses and was told in a dream which had been used on Christ and which on the two thieves. The Emperor then had the True Cross broken up, so fragments could be sent to every main church throughout the Empire. I’m told that if you were to reassemble all the fragments they would make enough lumber to fill a ship. Not bad for something that one man was able to carry up to Golgotha. But I’m also told this is in itself another miracle.’
I put up both hands and burped gently into one of my sleeves. ‘So you’re planning to turn up outside Constantinople and show the True Cross to the people?’ I asked. ‘I suppose, if you handle things properly, that should open the gates for you. But what then?’
‘Oh,’ came the airy reply, ‘I’ll allow a three-day sack of the City. Anyone my people find will be fair game. But I won’t allow the buildings to be harmed. I’ve got a Persian bishop with me who’ll be the next Patriarch. Minus the gold, he can have the relic to put on show in the Great Church. I think I’ll preside at the presentation. I once saw Maurice leading a ceremony there. It was most impressive. When I get up and speak, it can form the culmination of the first decade of your History. You’ll need to instruct me on the differences between the Monophysite heresy and Imperial orthodoxy. They make bugger all sense to me.’ He finished his wine and stuck his chin out again so his beard jutted forward.
I got unsteadily up. ‘If Your Majesty will pardon me,’ I slurred, ‘I need to vomit.’ I heard the guard snigger with polite contempt. All I had to do was stumble as I went by the cushion.
‘Stop!’ Theodore called in Syriac from the far end of the room. I looked at him. ‘Stop, Alaric,’ he said, now clutching despite his bound wrists at the wall hangings. He pulled himself to his knees and laughed bitterly. For the first time since he’d been found howling in the mountains, he switched into Greek. ‘I know your secret,’ he sneered. ‘You’ve come here with Priscus to murder the Great King. But know ye not the words of Saint Pauclass="underline"
Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God. Whosoever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God: and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.’
He fell down again in hysterical laughter.
Chosroes was on his feet and racing across the room. ‘Priscus is dead!’ he wailed. ‘How can a man kill me when he’s dead?’He reached Theodore and kicked him in the stomach. He turned him over and slapped his face. He kicked him in already ruined balls. He was wasting his time. For several years, I’d been aware of Theodore’s belief in the purifying nature of pain. He really was now ready to receive the violet crown of martyrdom — he’d have gloried amid the flames. Chosroes stopped and turned in my direction. ‘What are you up to, Alaric?’ he asked. ‘I welcomed you back. I trusted you. How were you planning to kill me?’ The guard was on his feet, sword at the ready. His chain trailing behind, Urvaksha crawled in the vague direction of his master’s voice.
‘Kill him, O Great King!’ he shrilled yet again. ‘The knots never deceive. He came with murder in his heart. Kill him now!’
Chosroes looked at me. He looked at Theodore. He looked at the guard. From a sheath I’d already guessed was up his sleeve, he pulled out a steel blade of his own. He opened his mouth to speak, but was silent.
The silence was broken by a sudden pattering of hands on a drum. It came from behind a curtain on my right. Angry, the Great King turned to see who’d disobeyed his direct order to be left alone with me. The drumming settled down into a brisk and flowing rhythm that I well remembered, and the curtain was pulled aside.
Naked, covered all over in gold paint, Eboric stamped hard three times on the floor and raised lightly muscled arms in the opening moves of his orgasm dance.
Chapter 61
I don’t believe there was a man alive who could resist Eboric’s charms. Even with a sword at my throat again, I could see that the boy was outdoing himself tonight. You can search me how he and Rado had got up here undiscovered. Ditto how they’d got themselves kitted out for the dance. But here they were and Chosroes was hurrying across to stop the guard from sawing my head off. ‘We’ll go on with our conversation after the end of what may be a delightful surprise,’ he snarled. ‘If it really is delightful and if you can prove any involvement at all in it, you may get a flash of my merciful side.’ He sat down a few feet from me, and turned his attention back to the perfect unfolding of complexity.
I looked on, rigid with shock. Slowly, as the pattering of Rado’s hands on the drum took on a firmer rhythm, I found myself able to think again. I’d taken a sudden and gigantic risk, and I’d got so close to solving every problem we faced. Right up to the last moment, the plan had unfolded as if someone had been directing things in a play. Now, for the second time in a month, that worthless shit Theodore had ruined everything. I should have listened to Priscus and left him to beg his bread in Athens. Failing that, I should have taken a proper look at him when he got to twelve, and dumped him in one of the more ascetic monasteries. By now, he could have been sticking skewers through his nipples and making everyone miserable with his visions of hellfire. If I ever got out alive of this latest catastrophe he’d arranged, I’d see to it that Theodore got a whole lifetime of moral suffering. I took a quick glance in his direction. Sure enough, he was on his knees again, peeping out from behind raised hands at the controlled indecency of Eboric’s dance.