Justinian

by Harry Turtledove

  On I went. Again she tensed beneath me. Again she quivered. Again she called my name. And, this time, I sent my seed deep into her womb a moment later.

  "You are a big man, a great man," she said admiringly. "You go on and on, you make me crazy for you." She mimed clambering atop me and taking me by force.

  I laughed with her, a laugh not far from exhaustion. The truth of things- a truth I kept from her- was that I kept on and on because I took less pleasure from each single stroke than I had before Tiberius passed out through the way on which I was now going in. The sheath into which I thrust my sword now fitting more loosely than had been the case, I had to work harder to reach my full pleasure. Her giving me less satisfaction was, precisely and in inverse proportion, as those learned in arithmetic are wont to say, the occasion for my giving her more.

  Having thus labored long and hard, I fell asleep, awakening sometime later from a vivid erotic dream of the sort commonly sent by Satan to tempt us Christians away from the paths of virtue. This particular erotic dream, however, was sent not by Satan but by Theodora, who had amused herself by finding a way to revive my manhood while I lay snoring. Once I was not only revived but awake, she impaled herself on me and, moving slowly and languorously, brought both of us another round of joy. Though unsure whether I could complete my half of that wordless bargain, in the end I managed it.

  We both slept then, waking only with the sunrise. The bedclothes bore stains from my seed dribbling out of her in the night: not the stains of maidenhead overwhelmed, as on the first night, but those of a deeper, longer-lasting intimacy. "I am glad you're with me again," I said, and, despite her body's being somewhat less enjoyable than before, I spoke the truth.

  ***

  My having chosen to dwell at the palace in the Blakhernai district rather than the grand palace furnished the opportunity for a parade through most of the imperial city when the time came to crown Theodora Augusta and Tiberius junior Emperor. This met with the raucous approval of the Constantinopolitan city mob, more of whom were able to gape at the procession that would have been the case had we gone only the short distance from the grand palace up to the church of the Holy Wisdom.

  It also met with Theodora's approval, for it allowed her to see the many monuments and churches and splendid buildings lying along the Mese. We did not solicit Tiberius's opinion, as he was still far too small for it to matter in any way. From somewhere- God only knows where- Theophylaktos produced an imperial robe of a size appropriate for a baby. When dressed therein, Tiberius looked absurdly majestic- and, I must say, majestically absurd.

  Ceremonial required Theodora to hold Tiberius up for the people of Constantinople to see and to admire throughout the entire procession. This proved one disadvantage of making the aforesaid procession longer; not far past the column of Markianos, she whispered to me, "My arms will fall off."

  "Keep going anyhow," I whispered back; departing from tradition was dangerous. When she looked mutinous, I added, "Besides, they all love him." Her face softened, for that was obviously true. Women cooed and men smiled at the spectacle of a plump, good-natured baby- which Tiberius was- decked out in a miniature version of his father's magnificent robes.

  "So sweet!" a woman exclaimed, and heads close by her bobbed up and down in agreement.

  "You see?" I said to Theodora.

  "I see," she replied, but, never being one to shy from speaking her mind, she added, "I wish you carried him a while." Then, proving how much better her Greek had become, she made a pun, saying, "I carried him nine months already."

  "My turn will come inside the great church," I said. She subsided, recognizing that against necessity one struggled in vain. Ceremonial and necessity, when mentioned in matters pertaining to the Emperor of the Romans, might as well be one and the same.

  We passed through the Forum of Constantine, paraded by the church of St. Euphemia near the hippodrome, and came up to the Milion, which marks the end of the Mese. The heads of Leontios and Apsimaros were still on display in front of it, both somewhat the worse for wear but distinguishable one from the other on account of Leontios's mutilation.

  Deliberately, Theodora turned her back on the last remains of the two usurpers. "Revenge," she said, "is good."

  "Truly God was wise when He sent me to your brother's court," I told her, receiving in return a proud smile.

  Not far past the Milion stands the church of the Holy Wisdom. "It is the biggest building I have ever seen," Theodora said, peering up and up and up at the massive structure of golden sandstone. From the outside, the massiveness of the church is its most noteworthy feature. Like an egg, it hides its riches within a plain shell.

  When we went into the narthex, the outer chamber before the worship area itself, Theodora exclaimed at the mosaics. "Yes, they are fine," I agreed, "but you will find work that comes close to them at the Blakhernai palace, and work to match them in the grand palace. Howevera160…"

  We went on, into the naos itself. Cyrus the ecumenical patriarch waited for us beside the golden altar table. And he waited longer than strict ceremonial would have dictated, too, for Theodora, having decided to stare up into the great dome, stood transfixed, apparently unable to go forward.

  Following her gaze, I also looked up into the dome. Having come to the great church many times, I normally took even such a marvel for granted: so familiarity enslaves us all. Now, though, I saw as it were with new eyes, viewing it, thanks to Theodora, as if for the first time once more. The sunbeams streaming through the many windows ringing the base of the dome, light striking off the golden tesserae in the dome itself, shifting if I moved my head by so much as a digit's breadtha160…

  "It floats in the sky," Theodora whispered. "Nothing holds it up but the light. It is not part of the building."

  None of that, of course, was literally true. And yet every word of it seemed true. Having once begun to stare up into the dome myself, I needed a distinct effort of will to look away. I touched Theodora on the arm, which called her back to herself. Together, we approached the altar. Now Theodora could see and appreciate the marble and precious metal that had been lavished on the great church. Before, the overmastering splendor of the dome commanding her attention, no lesser marvel had been able to show itself to her.

  Cyrus prayed, beseeching God's mercy and lovingkindness for me, for my family, and for the Roman Empire. When I became Emperor of the Romans, George, then ecumenical patriarch, had set the crown on my head, but it is the Emperor who crowns both the junior Emperor and the Augusta. The assembled grandees having added their acclamations to those of Cyrus, the patriarch handed me the first of the crowns I was to bestow.

  "Behold the Emperor Tiberius!" I cried, and set the crown on my son's head. I kept hold of the crown as well, it being made for a fully grown man. On feeling something brush against his hair, Tiberius whipped his little head around, trying to find out what it was. When he saw the crown, he grabbed for it; his hands were beginning to obey his will. Once he had seized it, he tried to bring it down to his mouth so he could chew on it, as he did with everything that came within his reach.

  "Many years to the Emperor Tiberius!" the nobles and bureaucrats of Constantinople cried. The acclamation was more casual than on many such occasions, many of the grandees being diverted by the junior- very junior- Emperor's antics. From the women's gallery came more laughter and sighs of amusement: the noblewomen shared affection for a baby with their humble cousins on the street.

  Tu vincas was not a shout that went up at the coronation of any junior Emperor, conquest being the prerogative of the ruling Emperor. I could not even leave the crown on Tiberius, as I should have done had he been older. Once I had satisfied the symbolic requirement of placing it on his head, I took it away again. Tiberius reached for it, and howled when he could not get it.

  More laughter rose and echoed from the dome. Theodora rocked Tiberius in her arms till he calmed. Having waited for that moment, I took the second crown from the hands of the ecum
enical patriarch. The Augusta is more often crowned in the Augustaion, the enclosed open space south of the church of the Holy Wisdom, but I performed the ceremony inside the great church, combining it with the coronation of my son. Theophylaktos had grumbled a little at the proposal, but not much. And, being Emperor, I had my way.

  At my gesture, Theodora slightly inclined her head. I set the crown on it, saying, "Behold the Augusta Theodora!" Tiberius, meanwhile, beheld the crown on his mother's head, let out a squeal of delight, and tried to get it, imperially certain it had been placed there for his amusement alone.

  Over the echo of that squeal, more acclamations rang out. Most were in Latin, the ceremony for crowning the Augusta having changed less over the years than that for the Emperor. Indeed, it was my great-great-grandfather who changed the official title of the ruler of the Roman Empire from Augustus to the simple word Emperor.

  "Thank you," Theodora said when the acclamations had faded. "God bless you." I nodded, well pleased, having wanted her to use those words to remind the grandees she was of Christian faith even if of Khazar blood.

  I took the first crown from Cyrus once more and, accompanied by my wife (who still carried our son in her arms) and the ecumenical patriarch, went out through the narthex to the entranceway to the church of the Holy Wisdom. The crowd out there- people lacking the importance to be admitted to the great church to witness the coronation ceremony with their own eyes- burst into cheers to see Theodora adorned with the Augusta's crown. They cheered even louder when, as I had done inside the church, I set the junior Emperor's crown on Tiberius's small head.

  Servants flung coins into the crowd from sacks they carried for t he occasion: gold and silver both here. Rather than watching the city mob struggle over the largesse thus distributed, I went back into the great church. Again, the nobles and high functionaries shouted out fulsome acclamations for the newly crowned Tiberius and Theodora.

  They had, no doubt, acclaimed Apsimaros a year before. They had, no doubt, acclaimed Leontios as fulsomely ten years before. They would, no doubt, acclaim some other vile, worthless usurper as fulsomely should he chance to overthrow me.

  I did not aim to give the whores the chance.

  ***

  My mother beamed at me, saying, "I am very glad to see you using the grand palace once more. I know your memories of those who dwelt here before you came back are unpl-"

  With a sharp chopping gesture of my right hand, I cut her off. "This palace has a larger dining hall than the one at Blakhernai."

  "Reason enough," my mother said. "I am also pleased to see you reconciling yourself with some of the people who remained busy in the imperial city after you were forced to leave. That way lies security." I made no answer. She was in any case not seeking one, as she swung all her attention to Tiberius. "How is the littlest Emperor?" She punctuated that by tickling him under the chin. By way of reply, the littlest Emperor squeaked with delight.

  One of the spatharioi I had appointed since returning to the city, a certain Helias, came up to me and said, "Emperor, everything is ready."

  "Good," I told him.

  He was about to go when a cook came running out of the kitchen, crying, "Who is this black devil who wants to work with us?" He made the sign of the cross. "I have never seen such an ugly man in my life!"

  "Oh, that's my cook," Helias answered. "I call him John, because I can't pronounce his real name. He's an Indian or an Ethiopian: something like that. He is ugly, but he can really cook. He's put a belly on me since I bought him six months ago, I'll tell you that. When I heard the Emperor had a banquet in mind, I brought him along to help."

  "Let me see him," I said, curious to learn whether he would resemble Auriabedas.

  The cook trotted off, returning in a little while with a fellow who in fact did not much look like the little man who had restored my nose. This man was tall and muscular, with skin black rather than brown and hair growing in tight little curls. His features were hard and coarse, his nose, though seeming undamaged, even flatter than mine.

  After clumsily prostrating himself, he spoke in bad Greek: "Emperor, you eat my food, you like my food."

  "All right, John," I said, and, diverted by his strange appearance, gave him a nomisma, which he took with a loud, shrill whoop of delight. I turned to the cook who had brought him into my presence. "He may be ugly, but he seems to have no harm in him. Let him cook, so long as he does not bother the rest of you."

  Bowing, the cook led John back into the kitchens. That proved well timed, for the invited guests began arriving shortly thereafter. One by one, they prostrated themselves, bowed to my mother and to my wife, and let eunuchs take them to the places assigned them at the tables. Having been seated, they began drinking wine and talking shop with one another, as men of similar trades will do when cast together.

  None of them paid any special attention to the magnificence of the hall in which they were enjoying themselves. It was, for these functionaries of intermediate to high rank, a familiar setting. All of them had frequently come to the grand palace while Apsimaros and, before him, Leontios, had set their fundaments on the throne. Some of them I remembered from the days before my exile; a few I remembered from as far back as the days of my father's reign.

  I greeted them with the nineteenth verse of the twelfth chapter of the book of Luke: "a160'Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.'a160"

  My mother, whose piety, always deep, had strengthened further in the years of my exile, looked sharply at me. I returned my blandest stare, and she subsided. The bureaucrats and courtiers I had assembled- they must have numbered about sixty altogether- lifted their cups in salutation. "May you also be merry, Emperor," one of them called, whereupon the rest gave forth with loud agreement.

  Food began coming out of the kitchen then: oysters and spinach, octopus and leeks, prawns in cheese with garlic. I had no idea what share in all this John the black man from India (or wherever his homeland lay) had had, but the dishes were uniformly excellent. My guests might have taken the dining hall for granted, but good food they appreciated, and were loud in its praises.

  After the prawns came roast boar in garum, the piquancy of the fish sauce complementing the meat's fatty richness. Again, the courtiers lauded the viands to the skies. Pork is a poor man's meat, but the wild boar is of different substance from the humble, garbage-eating pig, and these connoisseurs recognized and appreciated the difference.

  They sighed over geese stuffed with figs and plums and served on a bed of cabbage, and moaned almost as they might have done over a beautiful woman when the servants carried from the kitchen lambs glistening with the fat in which they had been baked. Crushed mint leaves were sprinkled over the carcasses, which still smoked from their time in the oven. To add flavor to the meat, the cooks had also inserted peppercorns and tiny quills of cinnamon into the flesh. Biting down on one of them prompted a man to reach for his wine goblet.

  As my guests had toasted me before, so now I pledged them. Lifting my cup, I waited until I had their attention before saying, "To the memory of the days that have gone before."

  They drank- how could they not drink, when the Emperor of the Romans proposed the toast? But they did not understand; I could see as much in their faces. My mother also looked puzzled. I caught Theodora's eye. She smiled at me. I smiled back.

  We all paused a while for another cup of wine before the servants brought in dessert. My mother, who had been dandling Tiberius at every moment in which she was not actually eating, now discovered he had fallen asleep in her lap. "Will you excuse me?" she asked. At my nod, she rose, holding her grandson in her arms. To the guests, she said, "I have my sweet here." They nodded, some, no doubt, having grandchildren of their own.

  Theodora leaned over toward me. "This will make it easier," she said.

  "It will," I agreed. "Less explaining to do."

  In came the cake, full of dates and cherries and sweetened with honey.
In, also, came Myakes, resplendent in the gear of a captain of excubitores. Knowing him to be my crony, the courtiers accepted his presence as nothing out of the ordinary, for which I was glad.

  "Is something wrong?" I asked.

  He shook his big head. His beard shone in the torchlight; I was surprised to notice how gray he was getting. We were none of us so young as we had been. "Not a thing, Emperor," he said. "Helias sent me to ask you when we'd be starting." He looked a trifle sour at that. But I knew what he could do, and so had assigned the chief role here to the spatharios, to see what he would make of it.

  "I don't think it will be very long," I answered in a low voice. A few of my guests leaned forward to try to hear what I was saying to Myakes, but only a few, most being less obvious in their inquisitiveness. I went on, "They'll want to be departing soon, as they expect to rise with the sun tomorrow. I won't delay them. Is the nomisma ready?"

  "Oh, aye, Emperor," he said in a hollow voice. "Helias's little joke."

  He did not approve. I did, saying, "I like it." He shrugged, bowed, and departed.

  About half an hour later, taking advantage of a lull in the conversation, I rose, thus formally ending the banquet. The functionaries, familiar with such ceremonial dicta from the time during which Leontios and Apsimaros sat on the throne, rose as one man and, with fulsome praises, thanked me for the boon of my company. Along with Theodora, I departed by the doorway leading toward my bedchamber. The guests left through the other door, the hallway outside of which took them straight to the entrance.

  But that was not the only passage in the grand palace leading to the entrance. Theodora and I doubled back through the maze, she following close behind me, trusting me to know the way. And so I did, despite a long absence and visits only rare after my return. Even before stepping out of the door, I heard voices raised in complaint and argument.