I was wrong. I’d guessed that the security cage was only intended to ward off an immediate attack and there was a trap door to get Chosroes properly out of danger. But no one had allowed for the buckling of the segmented floor. I could hear Chosroes pulling and pushing frantically at an exit that might be jammed beyond hope. I saw him get up and caught the flash of his steel blade. He howled in the terror of being caught in a space that didn’t let him stand upright. He rattled his sword against the bars. He went back to banging at the jammed trap door. He hadn’t yet noticed that Urvaksha was dead. He would eventually care about that, I knew. Every tyrant needs his safety cage, or something like it. And every tyrant needs at least one certain friend. When he got free of what was now his prison, there would be blood on the moon in his wild grief for a seer whose predictions had only been an excuse for their friendship. But he was a prisoner and it suddenly appeared that whatever blood he finally shed wouldn’t be ours.
I swallowed. I relaxed. I bent down and kissed Eboric on the face. ‘I could never have asked for a better son,’ I said gently. I helped him to his feet. I gave Rado a manly nod. ‘But do get something on you. We need to be away from here.’
Even as I spoke, there was another sound of snapping wood and of groaning palace sections. I’ve never been in a shipwreck. But that must be what the sideways collapse of the far end of the room resembled — that and the shifted slope of where we stood to about forty-five degrees. One of the lamps had come off the wall and was already spreading a pool of burning oil across the floor. If the outside of the palace was sodden from the rain, its furnishings might, with luck, become a royal funeral pyre.
Eboric was still fumbling with his clothes. No time for niceties. I snatched the coat from him and threw it over his shoulder. ‘We’re getting out as we are,’ I said calmly. ‘Keep your mouth shut. If there’s talking to be done, let me do it.’
Holding hands, the three of us slithered down the slope of the floor towards the collapsed far section. This had squashed an unknown number of the guards and I could hear maniacal shouting that took me back to the failed assault on my own palace in Constantinople. We slid down the silk rugs that still connected the two parts of the floor. I looked back once at the cage where Chosroes was now hurling himself about like a trapped wild animal.
‘Don’t leave me here, Alaric,’ he pleaded. ‘Don’t let me burn. I’ll be your friend again. I’ll make you Emperor in Constantinople.’ He raised his voice to a shrill scream. ‘Get me out of here and I’ll do whatever you want.’ He raised his voice higher. ‘Urvaksha — where are you, Urvaksha!’
Water was leaking upwards through the lower segments of the floor and the silk rugs squelched underfoot. Only one lamp down here had survived the collapse but it was enough to show us towards a sheared-off section of wall. Another few yards, and we could step out into the shouting, terrified crowd.
I heard Theodore behind me. ‘Please, Father,’ he begged in Syriac, ‘take me with you.’ I turned and saw him lying on his back, bound hands stretched out in supplication. No one could complain if I say that I gave him a kick of my own in the balls and hurried out alone into the darkness. Instead, I walked carefully back across a floor that seemed to have come to life beneath me and threw him across my shoulder.
The collapse we’d had so far wasn’t the end of the destabilising effect of the fallen cage. There was another sound of snapping supports. This time, there was a crash that went on and on. I’ve said I was never in a shipwreck but many’s the time I’ve seen a building catch fire and burn to the ground. This was like the final inward crash of floors. All that was missing was the explosion of sparks and the blast of intense heat.
I had my story ready for when I stepped out through the gap on the walls but no one paid the slightest attention. Dressed in the finery of a Persian noble, two naked boys beside me, another sobbing boy across my shoulder, I stepped right through a circle of men screaming orders at each other. We hurried across what remained of a wooden causeway. We nearly bumped into a party of armed men who were hurrying forward. I waved them aside and watched them step down into the water. I stopped by the dark wall of the pass and turned to look back at the stricken night palace. I’d been hoping it was on fire. All I saw was an irregular mass of darkness, framed by the lesser dark of the cloudy sky. I couldn’t see anyone. But there was a rising babble of shouts that indicated someone would finally see a personal interest in going in to spring Chosroes from his trap. It was best not to be anywhere close when he was carried out into the cold air of the night, bellowing for vengeance.
‘We tethered the horses in a sort of cave a hundred yards up on the left,’ Rado whispered in my ear.
I nodded in the darkness. He couldn’t have seen. I cleared my throat and laughed. ‘Those weren’t the orders I gave you,’ was what I wanted to say. It would have been ironic and nonchalant, and fairly memorable, and worth quoting in the biographies. But I was beginning to tremble with delayed shock and I didn’t trust my voice to sound as I wanted. I shifted Theodore to my other shoulder and patted Rado on the back. ‘Good work, my son,’ I said quietly in Slavic.
Chapter 62
The rain had passed away and, although the clouds were still a leaden mass in the sky, it didn’t seem likely to return. Happy in my riding clothes, I sat on a stone and watched Eboric scrub the last of the gold paint from his body under a cascade of water from a high outcrop of rocks. He was astonishingly pretty, I thought again. Little wonder Chosroes had been taken off guard. Adoption brings certain paternal duties that must be taken seriously. The avoidance of incest, on the other hand, is one of those technicalities to be observed only in public. Such a shame the circumstances of our getaway would keep my increasingly lustful hands off him for the foreseeable future.
I sighed and turned my attention to Rado. ‘I have told you,’ I said in an interval of the snarled questioning, ‘that knocking him about won’t get us anywhere.’ Long before morning, Theodore had turned pious again and was crying out in Syriac for punishment. The savage beating that might actually have broken one of his ribs was no more than he was calling out for. Still, he deserved it, and it was improving Rado’s mood from moment to moment. Who was I to interfere? But for this shitty little God-botherer, Chosroes would now be dead and the invasion would be over — and possibly the war as well. And we could be riding off to snatch Antonia at our leisure. Indeed, Shahin would probably hand her over in exchange for my promise of asylum. As it was, the whole upland plain behind us was crawling with mountain cavalry. It was only because the horses were worn out that we were having even this break from our desperate climb out of their reach.
I stood up and stretched. I walked over to where Theodore was trying to pull out one of his wobbly front teeth. I bent down to him. ‘Listen,’ I said in Syriac, ‘I want you to tell me where you left Priscus. I need to speak with him.’
He opened his eyes. He burped and more bloody froth covered his mouth. ‘Tell your disgusting catamite,’ he whispered, ‘that I’ve had a vision of him writhing in the lake of black fire. It is a sin to show parts that none should ever see but God. It is a sin to take pleasure in their filthy perfection.’ He tried to spit at me, but knocked his head on a stone, and closed his eyes again.’
I stood up. ‘No more beating,’ I said firmly. ‘You’ll get nothing out of him when he’s in this state of mind.’ I pressed myself against a big rock and crept along till I could see the army of pursuit that had been set on us. They were all a very long way off.