by David Capel
“Yes indeed,” he replied. “In fact you have chanced upon our farewell meal. My unit marched east three days ago to join the Emperor’s campaign. As a centurion I was due leave to see my family, but must ride out tomorrow to catch up with the column.”
“Where are you heading, do you know?”
“At the moment our orders are to make for Theodosiopolis via Sebastea and Koloneia with a view to assembling there three weeks hence.”
“Koloneia! And you are a centurion? A captain of a company?”
I could not believe my good fortune. Koloneia was only ten miles or so to the east of Kastoria. This man would have the rank to leave his unit for long enough to visit the estate. I asked him his name, which was Symeon, and explained to him my predicament, that I need to deliver a message securely to my factor there, but could not leave the City myself. I hinted that I held an important position in the bureaucracy, and named a sum for payment to him that would more than cover his costs while being substantially less than my own if I made the trip. I could just afford it from the modest amount mother had been able to give me that morning.
He pondered the idea, and I could see that he was reluctant, but there was really no disadvantage from his point of view. Eventually his wife pointed this out to him, and he accepted the commission.
“All I need you to do is deliver a letter to the factor, check that the farm is broadly secure, and send a note back to me from him using the military message network.”
We agreed that I would meet him at the Prosphorion harbour whence he was taking ship for the Asian shore at noon the following day. I would deliver my letter and the funds to him then.
We crossed back to the City without mishap, and I left Symeon and his family securing their skiff and strode up the hill towards home, my heart singing with relief. I had not solved the central problem of what had happened to the estate, but I had found a way to investigate the issue at a lower cost than if I made the journey myself. I congratulated myself that the mission was probably in safer hands with my centurion friend than if I undertook it alone. After all, he seemed a competent sort and would be travelling in the company of an army. Above all, of course, I had saved myself a journey that would have certainly proved uncomfortable and inconvenient at best.
**
When I reached home I determined to see my mother at once, to tell her my news. As he let me in, Demetrius handed me a note that he said had been delivered a short time before. I saw that it had some kind of imperial cipher on the sealing wax and so hovered in the passage way that led to the inner courtyard and opened the missive.
My heart leaped when I saw that is was from Maria Alania. She had scrawled the words:
‘I hear you are going East. I can help. Come and see me at dusk.’
I was thrilled that she was so concerned for my welfare. She would obviously be delighted to hear from me in person that the emergency was over, I surmised, as I ascended once more to my mother’s reception room. I plunged through the drape and stopped on my heels in surprise.
For the second time in three days I had interrupted her with company. This time the guest was a far more alarming prospect that Isaac the clerk. It was Nikephoritzes.
Of all the people in the City this was the man I would least expect (and least desire) to come across in my mother’s chambers. He was the kind of man that people like to forget, and he certainly did not cloud my thoughts very often. But I knew that he was at the centre of every piece of skulduggery and intrigue in Byzantium.
His real name was Nicephorus, but he was known to all by the diminutive, partly because of his small size, and partly because he was a eunuch. He must have been about the same age as my mother, but he didn’t look it – he looked ageless, with smooth skin topped by a short fuzz of black hair sparsely covering his oiled skull.
No doubt he was an able administrator, but his reputation was for cruelty and nefarious dealings with both money and office. I knew him by sight, and we had been introduced at a couple of functions where he had barely noticed me, or so I thought. I should have known better. Nikephoritzes noticed everybody.
At that time he was rebuilding his career in the Imperial service after a period in prison, where he had been incarcerated by the Empress Eudocia for publicly denouncing her adultery. Romanus Diogenes had recalled him, in return for a hefty payment. The Emperor had even appointed him Praetor of Hellas, in Southern Greece, as part of the deal, though he spent more time in the capital than in his province. Previously he had been governor of Antioch, where he had gained a reputation for competence mixed with ruthlessness. He had fallen out with the Patriarch, Aemilain, and taxed the locals to despair.
So much I knew, but I had no idea what he would be doing in our house and glared at him in alarm as he rose to greet me.
“My dear John, how excellent to see you.” His voice was smooth and moderated, not at all highly pitched as with some of his condition.
I recovered my manners and greeted him and my mother.
“I always knew you had talent. A letter from the Grand Logothete?” said the eunuch smoothly, nodding at the paper in my hand.
For a moment I had no idea what he was referring to, and gazed stupidly at Maria’s open note, before folding it and thrusting it into my coat.
“No, no, it’s nothing. Just from a friend.”
“Would that we all could take such gracious friends for granted!” smiled the eunuch, and his black eyes glittered.
“The Praetor here has kindly offered his assistance,” explained my mother. “He heard that you were travelling to Kastoria and came round directly. She looked as bemused and nervous as I felt, and her voice trembled slightly.
“Yes indeed, and I am sorry for the trouble you seem to be having with the estate. These are indeed uncertain times.”
Nikephoritzes looked at his manicured finger nails and did not sound in the least concerned.
“But the reason I thought to pay you a visit is that I have a message that I need to deliver to the Governor of Trebizond. It struck me, when I heard of your mission, that you could deliver the message to him in person, and then travel back by sea.”
“I had planned to commission a messenger,” he continued, his voice turning to unctuousness “but the message is confidential, so a personal friend would be so much more reliable”.
“In return I can supply you with the funds I would have paid the messenger, which will help to accommodate you along the way. I can also give you a pass, signed by me, that may help with the various Imperial authorities you encounter.” He looked at me and his eyes were like dark wells, with no feeling or humour in them. I really wanted nothing to do with this serpent, and was relieved to be able to turn him down.
“I’m so sorry, Praetor, I can think of nothing more satisfactory that helping you out with this,” I lied, “but I am afraid that my plans have already changed in the short time that you heard of our plight.” And then I added, cringing inwardly at the boldness of it, “How did you hear about our situation, by the way?”
He was silent for a moment, holding me in his stare, before he replied.
“Word came to me from one of your mother’s friends yesterday. But you say your plans have changed. How so?”
I told him that I had found a ‘military messenger’, as I put it, who was travelling to the area anyway, and would investigate the situation at Kastoria on our behalf. I had no intention of making the journey East.
“Hmm, he must be in the Sentinels,” he commented, and it struck me that he would be a dangerous man to deceive. “But I must say, I think this is unwise. You would do better to undertake the journey yourself, not least because of my commission. You would be doing me … you would be doing the Empire a valuable service.”
I suggested he give his own message to the centurion, who would be passing not far to the south of Trebizond.
“Out of the question,” he said abruptly. “The missive is too important for such a lowly officer. Still, I must be away.
I leave for Thebes tomorrow morning and have much to prepare. In the meantime I suggest you reconsider.”
He stood and bowed briefly to my mother. “I will leave the message at my house in the Blachernae, with instructions that should you change your mind you can pick it up there.”
And with that he left, stepping lithely through the arras without a backward glance.
My mother shuddered. We stood together in silence for a while until we heard the front door open and shut.
“What a nasty little man. I must say I think you are wise not to get mixed up with his schemes. How lucky you were to meet that soldier this morning.”
She asked me the details of my arrangement. She seemed to have completely changed her attitude to my journeying to the estate myself. It seemed that she had indeed had a gathering of her friends in the late morning after our meeting with Isaac Darnes. She had no idea which of her guests might have alerted Nikephoritzes. His sudden and rapid appearance had roused her suspicions.
I explained the summons from Maria, and made to excuse myself.
“Another snake in the grass,” she said archly, echoing my earlier thoughts. “Interesting how they all start to rustle the moment one starts to do something unusual. You must be careful, my boy.”
**
It had only been a few days since I had left the Ducas house, but it seemed a month. I retraced my steps via the Forum of Theodosius as the sun set, and the food vendors had already left the colonnaded Mese to be replaced by tavern keepers and household servants lighting street lamps above doors and archways. I hurried along the great avenue and shivered in the dusk. It was not cold, but the strange meeting with Nikephoritzes, and my mother’s words, had alarmed me. I had no wish to mingle with affairs of state. My ambitions were confined to money, in modest quantities, sufficient to maintain my bachelor lifestyle.
I thought as I walked through the great City that I cared not a fig for the turmoil in the Eastern provinces, not even much for the welfare of our – or rather my estate. As long as I could find some modest position in the bureaucracy that would pay my way, that would be sufficient. My standing in society (I supposed) would ensure a comfortable berth reporting to the Administrative Logothete or some such harmless official, while I gradually worked my way up to Notary. The income from my father’s Macedonian investment would provide a welcome supplement.
It occurred to me that the responsibility for Kastoria had hung a burden around my shoulders like a shadow of guilt. At that stage in my life I had no ambition to be a great landowner, with all its political implications. Subconsciously that had been why I had delayed taking responsibility for household affairs from my mother, I reflected. So there was something inside me, a seed of excitement that blossomed with the family misfortune. There was an opportunity to change my life forever from one of active responsibility to one of passive, salaried ease.
I actually stopped at the thought. That was when I realised the contradictions it entailed. My interests might be essentially social – discourse with the likes of John Italos, and flirting with Maria Alania and her friends. But to hold my station in this level of society I had to be somebody. I was gazing blankly through an open window, and it was only when the proprietor came outside that I realised it was a wine shop. He bowed briefly and asked if I would like to try his newly imported Sicilian. I nodded and went in. I chose a table where I could watch the avenue go by and sipped my cup of wine, which was disgusting, and almost certainly from Bulgaria, not Sicily.
Not that I minded. I was lost in thought at my petty dilemma: as a young aristocrat, I could get away with doing very little. And I could probably replicate that lifestyle by pulling strings to secure a position. But five years hence, where would that leave me? Everybody I knew, or wanted to know, was either self-made through drive and ambition, such as Maria, or Italos, or even Nikephoritzes, or else an aristocrat who would naturally use his position to aim for high office. All these people would have moved on from me.
**
A few minutes after my moment of introspection I was knocking at the Ducas’ ornate wooden door with its leaf-pattern marble surround. I was led down the short covered walkway through the outer court and into the main building. The Georgian house slave showed me into a richly furnished vestibule, where a silver mug had been set with a jug of wine. I sat down next to it and gratefully sipped, washing away the sour aftertaste of the ‘Sicilian.’
The house was very quiet, to my surprise. I had imagined at least a small soirée of the kind I had become used to in Maria’s company. After a few minutes it was clear that there would be no immediate reception, so I stood and paced around the room, admiring the expensive ornaments. I recall an ivory diptych cover for a prayer book, and several icons, one of the Mother of God that looked as if it might have been by Theophilus.
Presently I heard the low muttering of voices, and then Maria swept into the room alone. Her hair was held up, emphasising her high cheekbones, and she wore a simple green robe with what looked like an emerald clasp at her throat.
I went to embrace her, but she turned away to pick up the wine jug.
“My dear John, thank you so much for coming. Have you helped yourself to some wine?”
She topped up my cup and took one for herself before sitting in a chair opposite me. The meeting felt more like an interview than the intimate evening I had had in mind.
“I’m afraid I can only spare you a few minutes. But I had heard that you were off to Anatolia, and thought that I may be able to help you in a small way.”
“I must say that news certainly travels quickly around this City. In all sorts of directions,”
She frowned slightly in puzzlement.
“Yes indeed. But listen, it struck me that you might need some assistance along the way. The roads East are no longer safe, you know.”
“So I have been hearing.” I gulped at my cup.
“Yes, well there’s nothing to worry about too much. Especially since I have an idea that might suit you very well.”
“Really?” I looked at her sceptically. It seemed amazing that, within a couple of days of my family’s situation arising, two of the most influential people in the City had offered me their services. My suspicions were by now thoroughly aroused, and it strengthened my determination to avoid an Eastern trip at all costs.
“Indeed yes,” she continued, her wine untouched by her side. “You know that Alexius is based at Cyzicus?”
“Alexius?”
“Yes, you know, Alexius Comnenus.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “He’s now a general, if you didn’t know, and is based there for the time being in preparation for the offensive.”
“Oh him,” I said, nonchalantly. I knew Alexius only faintly. He was a few years older than me, and a nephew of the late Emperor Isaac, who had reigned briefly in my childhood. As a result he was already high in the Imperial service, and rising fast. I had come across him on occasion in the City, but these days he was often abroad.
“Yes him. And on your behalf I wrote to him earlier today informing him of your plight and asking if he could assist in any way. Our cousin Constantine took the letter. After all, Alexius has regular contact with the army further East and may well be able to provide you with an escort at least part of the way.”
She paused and looked at me. “You don’t seem particularly interested,” she said dryly.
“Well obviously I’m grateful for your concern, Maria.” I replied. “But to tell you the truth I have made other arrangements.”
“What arrangements?”
“A military officer is undertaking the mission on my behalf. I am staying in the City to look after my interests here.”
“Military officer? Who?”
“Just someone I know. So I’m sorry to say that your letter was in vain. I hope that we haven’t put your cousin and Alexius to any inconvenience.”
“No, Constantine was going to join him anyway.” She looked blank for a moment and then said, “so what
are you doing here then?”
“I came to see you.”
“What for? I mean if you had no intention of travelling, why respond to my note?”
I sighed and stood up. “It doesn’t matter, Maria. Look, I’m sorry to waste your time. I had better be gone.”
“Okay, hang on, wait a moment,” she said, standing also and reaching to touch my elbow. “Are you sure this is wise? I mean entrusting this to some army officer? This is your estate we are talking about, no?”
I moved away from her towards the door. “Maria, you are entrusting me to ‘some army officer’. Now, goodnight, and I’m sorry to waste your time.”
“No!” she said, and I hesitated, surprised. There was a note of urgency in her voice, almost fear, though I couldn’t credit it.
“John, think about what you’re doing.” She spoke quite loudly now, following me into the corridor. “It’s in your own interests, very much so.”
“My own interests? Maria, when have you been concerned about my interests? I saw the truth the other night, didn’t I? And you confirm it for me now.”
She wrung her hands. “Look, I’m sorry about the other night. But you’d had too much to drink, and...”
“It’s not about the other night.” I was gabbling now, my voice raised, and she glanced over her shoulder, down the passageway. “I thought we were friends. How long have we known each other? Since you arrived, from Georgia, knowing no-one, not even your husband. I introduced you to everyone I know. Now you only want to get rid of me.”
It sounded pathetic, but she didn’t laugh.
“Look John, I know all that. And maybe I haven’t shown enough… appreciation. But I promise, I’m doing this for you. Yes, as a friend. You should go East, whatever you think of me. Please.”