Chosroes tugged hard on the old loon’s chain, pulling him into a pool of blood. He laughed at the result. ‘Don’t listen to Urvaksha,’ he said. ‘Just because he was right about you last time doesn’t mean we can’t be friends — does it?’
I drank deeply. Even the best Persian wine tends to be disgusting — they mix it with honey to cover the sour taste of the grapes. This was no exception. But wine is wine when your nerves are in tatters. Chosroes took the cup from me with his own hands and looked about for the jug. ‘Have you seen Shahin?’ he asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
‘I have met him,’ I said slowly. ‘We spoke several times in Constantinople. You might say I’m here because of the assurances he gave on your behalf.’ I drank more wine and made a show of casting about for words. ‘It took me longer to get away from the City than I’d have liked. Shahin had a good head start. Can I take it that I’ve beaten him to you?’
He pushed his face close again. He lurched back and went at himself with his scratching stick. A flash of reddened chest under the hair told me his skin condition had now spread up from his waist. His entire body might be a mass of rotting sores. By the look of things, not even heroic doses of opium could keep the irritation under control. Bad luck for him. Bad luck for anyone in his power. That meant me. Plans that had seemed sensible enough earlier in the day were beginning to crumble about the edges.
Chosroes finished with his scratching stick. He narrowed his eyes. ‘I had a letter from Shahin the day before yesterday,’ he said. I kept my face immobile and stifled a fart. ‘He wrote it some while ago. All he told me there was that he’d soon be in possession of a most valuable object. Can you shed any light on his progress in this endeavour?’ He looked at the yellow scabs on the teeth of his scratching stick.
I coughed politely for the sake of getting some moisture into the back of my throat. ‘I believe he’s travelling here, or to Ctesiphon, with the Horn of Babylon,’ I said evenly. ‘Unless he’s a better liar than he used to be, he didn’t know about the invasion, or that you’d be leading it.’ I tried for the sort of smile a man gives who is trying for nonchalance and not quite getting there. It wasn’t hard to manage. I stayed silent and counted slowly to ten. Like a lover who’s put off the moment of climax far beyond any reasonable limit, Chosroes was beginning to shake. I got myself ready to confirm what he must have been asking himself again and again since I’d bearded him in the rain. I didn’t dare allow myself to feel any the better for it.
‘I’m here only because this was the easiest place to reach where I could claim asylum,’ I said. I pretended not to see the slight sagging of tension in his body. I allowed myself a more confident smile. ‘I never realised I’d be able to ask for it directly, or to remind you of Shahin’s assurances.’
I stood away while the Grand Chamberlain himself cleaned the scabs away. Chosroes took no notice. His face took on an exultant smile. ‘Is Heraclius still alive?’ He whispered.
I shrugged. ‘He wasn’t in Constantinople when the revolution broke out,’ I said. ‘I did hear he’d been hanged by his own soldiers. But I also heard that he was on a ship going west — possibly to Carthage, where he can still claim a bit of support.’
‘So who is Emperor in Constantinople?’ he asked.
I shrugged again. ‘I didn’t wait for the dust to settle,’ I said. ‘Shahin’s people got the city guard to proclaim Nicetas, which I believe was part of the deal you sanctioned. However, Timothy, the City Prefect, was being proclaimed by the mob as I finally slipped out of the City. Assuming he had any real support, I’d say he was now Emperor. But I don’t know more than that,’ I ended. It was possible Chosroes was playing with me. He enjoyed these little games. Any moment now and Shahin might pop out from behind a curtain. How they’d laugh as I was dragged screaming from the tent. If I was lucky, I’d find myself sharing Babar’s cage. Anything was possible. But not everything was likely.
Chosroes sat down and covered his look of relief by pretending to blow his nose. He was still watching me, though. I took another mouthful of wine. A good liar gets his way through relentless charm and a focus on what his hearer wants to be told. But I was in the absolute power of a man who was only alive because of his skill at seeing through ordinary liars. Babar’s eyes and genitals had been arranged on a silver dish. I moved this to the far end of its table and put my cup down.
‘It doesn’t mean you’ve won the war, however,’ I said. Chosroes looked up from his obvious reverie on that topic. ‘As said, I got out while the dust was all still in the air. But I’ve no real doubt that Timothy is now Emperor. He’s no fool. Once he’s got his hands on the Intelligence Bureau reports, he’ll scrape an army together from somewhere.’
‘Spies?’ Chosroes hissed. He jumped out of his chair and pushed his face very close — I could smell his foetid breath, and see the tiny dots his eyes were becoming from a dose of opium I hadn’t seen him take. ‘The Intelligence Bureau has no spies in Ctesiphon. I had the last of them crucified a year ago. I assembled this army without any consultation. I didn’t tell even Shahrbaraz where it was going till the final orders had to be issued. The new Emperor will be told nothing by the Intelligence Bureau.’ Gradually relaxing, he pulled back and laughed. ‘You know, by the way, I flayed Roxana alive with my own hands? Her dying moans may have mimicked the sound of the orgasms you gave the slut.’
It was no more than I’d expected. No one likes an adulteress. But I still felt sorry for Roxana. I nodded and stared at my wine cup. Chosroes scowled something about the need for another purge. I’d done enough. More would be too much. I changed the subject. ‘However, you did say that you were expecting me. Does this mean the Persians have now taken to the ways of espionage?’
A broad and wolfish grin spread slowly over the royal face. ‘I could keep you in the dark, my dear,’ he sniggered. ‘But why should I keep from you one whose only word in the past two days has been your name?’ He clapped his hands and pointed at one of the eunuchs. ‘Go and get him,’ he said coldly.
Two days? I thought. It couldn’t be any of my people. Had Shahin sent a messenger after all? My innards turned to ice. I had my answer while finishing my wine. One of the flaps opened and a dark and very wet shape was pushed inside the tent. It looked round and saw me. With a howl of maddened rage, it rushed at me, only slipping at the last moment on the bloody silk of the carpet.
‘Get thee behind me, Satan!’ Theodore screamed in Syriac. He raked feebly in my direction with bony fingers from which all the nails had been pulled out. ‘I know your secret!’
Chapter 59
The rain had stopped. It was getting on for late afternoon but the sudden brightening of the sky put me in mind of morning. So too the sharpness of the chilly breeze. All about us, the interminable drumming of the rain was replaced by the gurgle of a thousand streams that would probably bring water gushing into the pass for days yet to come.
I stepped over the body of one of the gutted boys and stood at the edge of the tent’s raised wooden platform. I knew Chosroes was behind me. ‘Trying to count the uncountable?’ he asked slimily in Greek. ‘Or are we perhaps looking for an escape?’
I continued looking at the sodden crowd that stretched on and on, as far along the pass as I could see. Even without his coded squeals of hate, it was plain that Theodore must have been brought here by Priscus and had run away. For all I knew, Priscus might be lurking somewhere atop the bleak walls of the pass. He might be watching us. If so, I could be happy I wasn’t alone. For the time being, it was enough to know that whatever sense Theodore had made under torture hadn’t been enough to do for me. I was still in with a chance. I turned and smiled. ‘No to both,’ I said. ‘And if my simple word isn’t enough, why should I come here to spy when I no longer have a master?’