He kicked at the dirt, angry at himself and Tzikas both. This should have been the greatest triumph of his career, the greatest triumph any Avtokrator had enjoyed since the civil wars the Empire had suffered a century and a half before cost it most of its eastern provinces. Instead of being able to enjoy the triumph, he was still spending far too much of his time and energy fretting over the loose end Tzikas had become.
He knew one certain cure for that. As fast as he could, he went back to the city governor's residence. «The Empress, your Majesty?» a servant said. «I believe she's upstairs in the sewing room.»
Lysia wasn't sewing when Maniakes got up there. She and some of the serving women of the household were spinning flax into thread and, by the laughter that came from the sewing room as Maniakes walked down the hall toward it, using the work as an excuse for chat and gossip.
«Is something wrong?» Lysia asked when she saw him. She set the spindle down on the projecting shelf of her belly. The serving women exclaimed in alarm: he wasn't supposed to be there at this time of day.
«No,» he answered, which was on the whole true, his worries notwithstanding. He amplified that: «And even if it were, I know how to make it better.»
He walked over to her and helped her rise from the stool on which she sat: the baby wouldn't wait much longer. Then, standing slightly to one side of her so he wouldn't have to lean so far over that great belly, he did a careful and thorough job of kissing her.
A couple of the serving women giggled. Several more murmured back and forth to one another. He noticed all that only distantly. Some men, he'd heard, lost desire for their wives when those wives were great with child. Some of the serving women had made eyes at him, wondering if he felt like—and perhaps trying to provoke him into feeling like—amusing himself elsewhere while Lysia neared the end of her pregnancy. He'd noticed—he'd never lost his eye for pretty women—but he hadn't done anything about it.
«Well!» Lysia said when the kiss finally ended. She rubbed at her upper lip, where his mustache must have tickled her. «What was that in aid of?»
«Because I felt like doing it,» Maniakes answered. «I've seen how many layers the bureaucracy in the Empire has, but I've never yet seen anything that says I have to submit a requisition before I draw a kiss from my wife.»
«I wouldn't be surprised if there was such a form,» Lysia answered, «but you can probably get away without using it even if there is. Being Avtokrator has to count for something, don't you think?»
If that wasn't a hint, it would do till a real one came along. Maniakes kissed her again, even more thoroughly than he had before. He was so involved in what he was doing, in fact, that he was taken by surprise when he looked up at the end of the kiss and discovered the serving women had left the room. «Where did they go?» he said foolishly.
«It doesn't matter,» Lysia said, «as long as they're gone.» This time, she kissed him.
A little later, they went back to their bedchamber. With her so very pregnant, making love was an awkward business. When they joined, she lay on her right side facing away from him. Not only was that a position in which she was more comfortable than most others, it was also one of the relatively few where they could join without her belly getting in the way.
The baby inside her kicked as enthusiastically then as at any other time, and managed to be distracting enough to keep her from enjoying things as much as she might have done. «Don't worry about it,» she told Maniakes afterward. «This happened before, remember?»
«I wasn't worried, not really,» he said, and set his hand on the smooth curve of her hip. «We'll have to make up for things after the baby's born, that's all. We've done that before, too.»
«Yes, I know,» Lysia answered. «That's probably why I keep getting pregnant so fast.»
«I've heard the one does have something to do with the other, yes,» Maniakes said solemnly. Lysia snorted and poked him in the ribs. They both laughed. He didn't think about Tzikas at all. Better yet, he didn't notice he wasn't thinking about Tzikas at all.
XII
Having settled affairs in Serrhes, Maniakes rode west with about half his army, so as to be in a position to do something quickly if the civil war in Makuran required. He sent small parties even farther west, to seize the few sources of good water that lay in the desert between Videssos' restored western frontier and the Land of the Thousand Cities.
«See, here you are, invading Makuran the proper way, the way it should be done, instead of sneaking up from the sea,» Rhegorios said.
«If we didn't have control of the sea, we wouldn't be here on land now,» Maniakes said. «Besides, what could be better than coming up from an unexpected direction?»
«The last time I asked a question like that, the girl I asked it of slapped my face,» his cousin said.
Maniakes snorted. «I daresay you deserved it, too. When we go back to Videssos the city, I'm going to have to marry you off, let one woman worry about you, and put all the others in the Empire out of their fear.»
«If I'm as fearsome as that, brother-in-law of mine, do you think being married will make any difference to me?» Rhegorios asked.
«I don't know if it will make any difference to you,» Maniakes said. «I expect it will make a good deal of difference to Lysia, though. If you tomcat around while you're single, you get one kind of name for yourself. If you keep on tomcatting around after you're married, you get a name for yourself, too, but not one you'd want to have.»
«You know how to hit below the belt,» Rhegorios said. «Considering what we're talking about, that's the best way to put things, isn't it? And you're right, worse luck: I wouldn't want Lysia angry at me.»
«I can understand that.» Maniakes looked around. «I wonder if we could put a town anywhere around here, to help seal the border.»
«Aye, why not?» Rhegorios said. «We can call it Frontier, if you like.» He waved a hand, as if he were a mage casting a spell. «There! Can't you just see it? Walls and towers and a grand temple to Phos across the square from the hypasteos' residence, with barracks close by.»
And Maniakes could see the town in his mind's eye. For a moment, it seemed as real as any of the cities in the westlands he'd liberated from the Makuraners. It was, in fact, as if he had liberated the hypothetical town of Frontier from the Makuraners, and spent a couple of days in that hypasteos' residence digging through the usual sordid tales of treason, collaboration, and heresy.
But then Rhegorios waved again, and said, «Can't you see the dust-herders bringing their flocks into the market for coughing– I mean, shearing? Can't you see the rock farmers selling their crops to the innkeepers to make soup with? Can't you see the priests of Phos, out there blessing the scorpions and the tarantulas? Can't you see the vultures circling overhead, laughing at the men who set a town three weeks away from anything that looked like water?»
Maniakes stared at him, stared at the desert through which they were traveling, and then started to laugh. «Well, all right,» he said. «I think I take your point. Maybe I could put a town not too far from here, somewhere closer to water—though we're less than a day from it, not three weeks—to help seal the border. Does that meet with your approval, your exalted Sevastosship, sir?»
Rhegorios was laughing, too. «That suits me fine. But if I'm going to be difficult, wouldn't you rather I had fun being difficult, instead of looking as if I'd just had a poker rammed up my arse?» He suddenly assumed an expression serious to the point of being doomful.