He giggled again, and now moved away from the bodies to push his face close to Nicephorus. ‘Nothing will then stop me from reordering the whole Empire so it can shine once more in its ancient glory. I will myself take the field against the Persian savages, and hurl them all the way back to Ctesiphon. Do you remember how, back in the days of the Great Justinian, it was the eunuch Narses who led the armies to victory when the professional generals had miserably failed? Be assured that the name of Ludinus will be the latest and most glorious in the roll of honour. Ours shall be evermore known as the Age of Ludinus. Heraclius himself will be nothing beside that!’ He stopped and stretched his arms out to the rising sun. He took out his napkin again and wiped away the drool that was running uncontrolled from between his flabby lips. ‘Truly, there is room only for one sun in the heaven,’ he added with a dramatic flourish of his hands.
To his credit, I saw Nicephorus shift nervously from one foot to the other. ‘But, Your Magnificence,’ he said, ‘we did agree on the list of those who should be saved after the fall of Athens-’
He was interrupted by a long titter. ‘We will bear your list in mind,’ Ludinus said. ‘But you shall certainly have your wish for Athens to be cleansed with fire. From what you tell me, fire is the least that it deserves!’ He laughed again and hugged himself.
From what I could see of his back, Nicephorus was having second thoughts. But it was too late now to pull back. The big leather tent of Kutbayan was only a few dozen yards away, and the guards who stood before its closed flaps were casting looks of mild interest in our direction.
It was also too late for me to act as I’d been hoping I might. Except with the knife that girl had given me, I was still unarmed, and the barbarian was both huge and fully armed. I am sure that, if I could remember and then describe every step of the way between the two tents, we could agree that certain opportunities had arisen. But I was far from at my best. If I did, at the time, see a couple of opportunities, it was always after they’d passed. It was as much as I could do to resist the urge to run back to the horses and keep walking in the right direction. I’ll say that I did find one possible opportunity as we approached the tent of Kutbayan. It was as the barbarian stopped and bent down to fiddle with the straps on his boots. I might then have got him from behind. Then, I could have butchered that piece of eunuch scum and offered Nicephorus his life if he’d make off with me. But it really was too late now. We were in full view, and I just couldn’t bring myself to an attack that, even if successful, would amount to suicide.
Ludinus smoothed his robe where it had come up over his thighs, and tottered forward to the big, heavily armed guards. ‘I come on Caesar’s behalf to address the Great Chief,’ he called in Greek. He stopped and waved both arms dramatically at the guards.
They looked over at us, but didn’t move.
Chapter 55
I’d imagined Kutbayan would be a huge thing with a beard to match. I’d thought of him any number of times these past few days as a fiend, roaring drunk on the blood and fear of the conquered. Nothing had prepared me for the beardless and rather elderly man who sat in his tent between two unarmed young assistants. If you leave aside the lack of writing materials, and the pronounced slittiness of his eyes, this might have been one of our own generals, receiving and dictating messages in his tent. But even before my own image of him could dissolve and reform itself, I knew this was indeed the Great Chief of terrible reputation. You could see that from the hushed manner of his assistants — and from the cold glitter of his eyes.
His first words were to us in Avar. When these brought no response, he switched into very good Slavic. ‘Where is the interpreter?’ he asked. He leaned back in his chair and waited.
As if he’d guessed the meaning, Ludinus frowned and looked about the tent. ‘I must speak urgently with the Great Chief,’ he said loudly in Greek.
There were a few blank looks. Another of the attendants who stood behind Kutbayan left off scratching the scars that kept his beard from growing and shrugged.
Without moving, Kutbayan raised his voice in faint annoyance. ‘Where is the unballed one who interprets?’ he asked. He waited again. When there was still no answer, he got up from his chair and took a step towards us.
Except for the two Greeks, we all threw ourselves to the ground. Without looking to see what everyone else was doing, I tried to blend in with a feeble attempt at a prostration. I looked round only when I could hear everyone else getting up. I was last back on my feet, and stood, looking firmly down at beaten earth that had smelled of blood.
I now heard Kutbayan draw breath. ‘I want someone here now who understands the language of the Greeks,’ he said in what didn’t rise above the sound of a polite conversation. One of his assistants leaned forward, and I caught a low whisper as to the whereabouts of a certain Kollo, who might still be drunk. Kutbayan frowned. ‘Now, get this pair of timewasters out of my tent,’ he said. ‘They can come back when there’s someone to interpret.’ He sat down and pointed at the assistant who’d been relaying a message when we entered. He thought again, and raised a hand to cancel the instruction. He looked briefly at me, but then pointed at the man who’d led us to the tent. ‘You go and get him,’ he said.
The man bowed and nearly tripped over a stool as he hurried out into the fresh air.
I’ve said I hadn’t been able to bring myself to a suicide attack. But this was merely a calculated risk that bordered on the lunatic. I cleared my throat and didn’t bother with a foreign accent as I spoke in Slavic: ‘O, Great Chief, Leader of Men and Lord of All Creation,’ I said, ‘I know the language of these Greeklings from the time I spent among the Lombards.’
Nicephorus was first to speak. ‘Alaric!’ he croaked. ‘What are you doing here?’ He stared into my face with uncomprehending horror.
His face turning what may have been puce, Ludinus gave me the look of a man who’s just seen a ghost.
I reached forward and struck Nicephorus so hard across the face that he fell to his knees. ‘The Greekling, O Lord of All Creation, shows insufficient respect,’ I explained with a low bow at Kutbayan. ‘I heard them talking together as they came here.’ I stopped and went into a tremble that was entirely unacted. ‘They have news that will surely anger My Lord.’ I swallowed and stared up. ‘Will My Lord pardon me for conveying the filthiness that is within their black hearts?’
‘Speak freely, young Germanic, and freely have my pardon,’ came the formulaic reply. Kutbayan sat back in his chair and pressed his fingers together, a thin smile on his face.
I turned and faced Ludinus, who was now about to recover the use of his voice. ‘What have you to say before I get you tied over one of the livelier bonfires?’ I asked in a Greek that — just to be on the safe side — I made sure to stumble over a few times.
His answer was a shove into my chest so hard, I almost fell sprawling on to the ground. He stepped past me and made a low bow. ‘Kutbayan! Kutbayan!’ he cried in his most imploring voice. He smiled and reached out at the Great Chief to pluck the hem of his jacket. He pointed at me and shook his head. ‘Kollo — where is Kollo?’ he asked with desperate emphasis on the name.
He was interrupted by Nicephorus, who was now up on his knees and starting a babbled plea for mercy.
Ludinus twisted round to look at him. ‘Shut up!’ he hissed. He silenced the pleas with a sharp kick. ‘Keep your mouth shut if you don’t want to play this chancer at his own game.’ He turned back and would have started calling out again for the Great Chief’s own interpreter, when Kutbayan held up his own arms for silence. Ludinus stopped in mid-flow, and even let himself be pushed over to the wall of the tent by a couple of the assistants. One of them put a knife to his throat, and that was an end to his interruptions for the time being.