Greek Fire

by James Boschert

  “When are you going to meet with the Arabs? What our patron is offering them is horribly dangerous for us if it goes wrong, you do realize that do not you?” Basileios asked.

  “I do know, but how else can we neutralize our own navy when the time comes? I cannot afford to allow anyone to stand in our way when everything hangs on securing the harbors and hence the city. We need to secure the naval base on Galata.”

  “Why can’t we use some mercenaries to do the work instead of the Arabs? I worry that they will betray us at the last moment and take the fire anyway.”

  “Because mercenaries are unreliable people and you can never pay them enough gold to buy their loyalty. They will run at the first sign of resistance, whereas the Arabs will stay with the plan. Besides, they are the only ones that will make for a credible threat when the time comes. It has to be seen as a real threat whereas a few mercenaries in dhows will not. I have met with Al Fakhouri and we are in accord. He is a pirate by nature and not interested in doing more than I have asked. His main condition was that we provide him with fire devices. With the fire in his possession his power at sea will become virtually unassailable…for a while. Then we will take it all back from him. He will stay on the plan and our navy will be neutralized long enough for us to make our move within the city.”

  “I heard a rumor that the emperor might be preparing for a campaign on the eastern mainland against Arslan. Have you heard anything? That might be an opportunity to move then.”

  “I too have heard the rumor but I do not think he will make a move for some time as yet. We cannot make our own move until the autumn in any case,” the Senator said.

  He continued,“We have prepared treaties with Nur Ed Din’s son As-Salih Ismail al-Malik, who will assist us against the Turks. They like the idea of sending Arslan packing. He has accumulated far too much power in Rum and now threatens Syria. Arslan is ambitious, but the Sultan of Egypt, a man they call Salah Ed Din, is also very ambitious and he does not want the Turks to own Syria, he would prefer to have it for himself. We will provide men and arms to assist him, and then he will help us to drive out Arslan and regain the center of our empire.”

  “And that, of course, is the goal. On that we agree fully. I am confident that the prince will bring back the glory of our empire. Manuel and his sycophants wallow in ceremony and beggar our empire.” Basileios said.

  “Do you know what the Templars are doing in this town?” Senator Spartenos asked. The question was asked abruptly and made Basileios blink.

  Basileios’ brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “I think it is about a marriage proposal. Why, do you know something more?”

  “No but I suspect it is more than that. They arrived without any ceremony and suddenly they are here preparing to have an audience with the emperor. But...I know of someone who might be able to find out.”

  *****

  Four nights later Caravello and his crew waited on their ship in the darkness. It was late and the harbor was quiet. Long after the city had gone to sleep there came a low call from the seaward side of the harbor of Neorion.

  Davide opened a small lantern and displayed a light that would not be seen from shore. There was no moon but the men on deck could just make out the dark shapes of two boats heavily laden approaching their ship.

  Before long, one of the boats bumped gently against the side of his ship and a familiar figure climbed aboard. Even in the darkness Caravello could make out the lithe form of the messenger Psellos. Their greeting was brief.

  “I have some cargo for you and some people,” Psellos rasped. “Keep an eye on the prisoners, get them below as quickly as possible.”

  Caravello nodded and nudged Christophas. “Get them on board and then we deal with the cargo,” he ordered.

  It all went quietly for a time as the six men huddled in the boat below were brought up onto the deck of the ship one at a time. They looked cowed and Caravello could smell their fear. The fifth prisoner, his hands roped in front of him, was assisted aboard by rough hands. He spoke to his companions, beginning to raise his voice, but as quick as a snake Christophas smashed his fist into the side of the man’s head. There was an ugly crushing sound and the man fell as though pole-axed. He did not move again although Davide nudged him with his foot.

  ‘You fool!” Psellos hissed. You have killed one of the operators, you dog’s turd! Wait till the Se-” he checked himself abruptly, “...our master hears about this.”

  “Get the rest below and hurry up about it!” Caravello snarled at his men. “No more damage to them, just get them below and make sure they are secured properly.”

  “What do we do with this one?” Christophas asked, his tone contrite.

  Caravello shook his head.Why he employed the thick-skulled man he did not know. He served well enough as a bodyguard but was useless otherwise.

  “He looks like he is dead, there is blood on the deck. Make sure you don’t make a noise when you toss him overboard.” He had to control his anger and the urge to strike Christophas. Psellos looked as though he was about to do so.

  But just at that moment the last of the prisoners to come aboard saw his companion lying on the deck. He took a pace back, shouted something, then made a break for the side. He jumped far enough out from the ship’s side to miss the boat below and fell with a noisy splash into the water and disappeared below the surface.

  For one stunned minute the men on deck stared at the place where he had been, then they rushed to the side to look for him. Psellos with an angry curse threw off his cloak and leapt out after the prisoner. He plunged into the water near to where the Greek had disappeared then struggled to the surface looking for his quarry.

  The men on deck had seen the fugitive splashing about twenty yards away and with low calls indicated where the man was going. It was not hard for Psellos to find him in the dark. The man’s hands were still bound and he was floundering desperately towards the distant shore and the dim lights of the city. He called out feebly but water choked his words off. He must have known that someone would come after him but did not know how quickly.

  Psellos paddled hard to catch up with the fleeing man and seized him around the neck, choking off any cry, and then the knife was shoved in from behind. The body convulsed for a few long seconds, then went limp. Psellos let it drift down into the water below. There were many murders in this city for many different reasons, so one more stabbing would not elicit any real interest when the body resurfaced bloated and half eaten by the fish and crabs.

  Psellos paddled his way back to the boats and was helped back onto the deck where he stood dripping water, catching his breath.

  “That was well done, and quickly too!” Caravello remarked.

  “Well now you have four to work with,” Psellos muttered drily. “Make sure that you get what you want from them, as there will be no more. The master will not be pleased to hear of the losses and you can be sure there will be no replacements.

  Caravello wanted to ask where the men had come from in the first place, but he knew that now was not a good time to ask.

  Psellos took charge again and directed the other boat alongside. There was a distinct smell to this boat and the cargo that came aboard was heavy, carefully packed in sacking, and it gave off an unholy stink.

  It was nearly dawn before the last of the cargo was loaded and the boats disappeared.

  _______________

  What is the price of Experience? Do men buy it for a song?

  Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price

  Of all that a man hath, his house, his wife, his children.

  Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy,

  And in the wither'd field where the farmer plows for bread in vain.

  William Blake

  Chapter 5

  The Invitation

  Talon made his way out of the harbor of St Julian onto the avenue of Ta Amantio as he followed Joseph, Alexios’ servant, who had come to collect hi
m and bring him to the villa of the family Kalothesos. He noticed the great walls of the Hippodrome off to the right as he climbed the hill towards the Mese, which was the longest and widest of the main roads running in roughly east-west through the city.

  Joseph first lead him towards the Forum of Constantine, one of the great circles that coincided with the Mese; after that they took a left turn along the huge avenue, and soon thereafter climbed the second hill to where Alexios’s family lived. Alexios had told him that their villa overlooked the Golden Horn and the Latin quarters facing north.

  When he had climbed the steep incline to the Forum of Constantine, Talon had paused and turned to look back down to the harbor. Despite all the pedestrian traffic and beasts of burden that used the street, he was able to make out the ships in clear detail that were anchored in the small port. He could even make out his ship tied up alongside the quay and the tiny figures working nearby, and the guards walking along the sea walls that effectively enclosed the entire harbor.

  He gazed out at the Sea of Marmara where the waves were white capped and the sea dark blue in sharp contrast to the azure of the sky above. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, sending up rays of golden light to paint the few clouds in the sky deep rose as though they were on fire. Talon noticed that for some reason the waters of the Marmara always tended to be agitated. Perhaps it was the winds that came off the northern mountains. He turned back again to follow Joseph who was patiently waiting for him to continue.

  They had to pause while crossing, as there was a disturbance along the main thoroughfare. Talon heard cheers and shouts of excitement and from the east of the avenue came a chariot drawn by four horses. The pedestrians, carts and individual horsemen who were using the avenue moved over to the side and waited while a magnificent sight came into view. A line of four horses abreast drawing a chariot swept past them amid cheers and waved hats. Talon stood with the servant and watched it passing.

  “What is it and where is it going?” He asked.

  “The charioteer is going to the great palace to receive an honor from the emperor himself for his courage and skill at racing,” Joseph told him.

  Talon glanced up and down the Mese looking for more of the same, but the crowds had resumed their business and everything had gone back to normal. He realized that the Mese resembled a backbone of the city, with lesser streets and avenues flowing off its huge avenue like ribs on a fish. It followed the ridge of the hills known as the First, Second, and Third Hills; from the top of any one of these mounts the view south was spectacular. After they had climbed the Second Hill and had pushed their way through the forum area with its market stalls and crowds of pedestrians, men, women, and children of every rank and class, their route took them downhill and north towards the Tower of Eirene. Talon was impressed by the number of women he saw on the streets of this city, many accompanied by children but without appearing to need guards or escorts.

  He glanced to his left and perceived another hill, upon which stood yet another magnificent structure, but this one looked somehow deserted in this evening light. He marveled at how the setting sun colored the stone of this strange palace pink and ochre. The men who built it were masters of stonework, he thought, as he observed its pillars and archways and even what appeared to be grottos built in among the conventional stonework.

  As they descended the incline Talon could now observe the other side of the city that overlooked the waters of the Golden Horn, with the fortified town of Sycia on the other side; and he could just make out the tower of Galata at its northernmost area and a cluster of naval ships. He stared across the wide body of water known as the Bosporus to the distant mass of the mainland belonging to the eastern Byzantine Empire. Even at this late hour the sea was dotted with the sails of many crafts which plied up and down a strip of water that to Talon’s astonished eyes made even the Nile around Cairo seem provincial.

  Joseph, who was walking just ahead of him, indicated a building to the right, and now he could see the roof of a villa and extensive grounds. The road was very quiet and lined with old trees that reminded him of Isfahan. There were a few pedestrians about on this early evening. The trees here were large, mature cypresses and plane trees interspersed with the odd pine. The whole effect was cooling, especially at this time of year.

  All the villas in this area had high walls surrounding them and Talon did not doubt that behind these were guards for every house. Constantinople might be the greatest metropolis in the world, but he was becoming aware from conversations with Alexios and Sir Guy that it was not always at peace with itself, and the wise owner of property protected his own.

  Joseph came to a halt in front of some large wooden doors and shouted his name, then banged on the door. A dog barked a deep resonant bark, then they heard a movement behind the doors and a challenge. Joseph, with an apologetic look at Talon, shouted back that he was bringing a visitor to the family on invitation and wanted entrance immediately.

  Bolts were drawn, the doors creaked open, and they were confronted by two guards. Talon noted that they were dressed in an assortment of crude protection made of leather and armor plate, and he was surprised that the family Kalothesos did not provide their guards with better gear. From Alexios’ behavior on board, he had gathered that the aristocratic family was wealthy. The men looked tough, however, and regarded Talon with suspicion. One of them held on a chain choker a huge dog that had its mouth open, displaying large teeth. It regarded Talon balefully, as though he might be worth attacking. Talon watched the animal warily.

  Joseph brushed past the guards without so much as a word of greeting and led the way along a tree-lined alley that took them to a wide yard surrounded by stables and other buildings. Situated above these buildings, dominating the view, was the main villa. The sharp smell of horses pervaded the yard and Talon glanced at the stables to see some purebred horses being fed and watered for the night. He experienced a sense of nostalgia and wondered if he would have the chance to ride out some time while here. He had grown a little tired of ships and the water. He felt a sudden pang of loss as he remembered his faithful horse Jabbar and how he had died in the shipwreck off the coast of Egypt.

  Talon had to concede that it was a beautiful building. It reminded him of the abbey near Albi and was every bit as large, although this was for just one family. The walls of the buildings were all of stone and mortar, and in the case of the villa they were coated with white lime plaster to hide the stonework. This, combined with the heavy wood supporting beams that held up the tiled roof, made for a very pleasing effect. The row upon row of tiles made of red and ochre clay reminded him somehow of the scales of a great red fish, the perfect foil to rain and harsh sunlight. They suited this villa perfectly.

  He was led through the wide loggia that ran almost all the way round the building into a cool antechamber. Here he was invited to be seated and his cloak was taken by another servant who disappeared. He held onto his sword when a servant came to take it from him. The servant shrugged and left.

  Joseph had disappeared to find Alexios, and while he waited Talon looked around. There was a pleasant scent of beeswax and lavender combined with the smell of oil lamps emanating from the rooms of the house. In between the tall marble pillars the walls were decorated with murals of hunting scenes depicting what he took to be classic Greek forms of women and ancient warriors with huge shields and very long spears. Most of the men were naked, while the women wore diaphanous tunics that flowed around their bodies, revealing much. He found himself staring. One would never see this kind of thing in Acre, let alone in Cairo, he reflected. Two of the murals showed heroes who had died and were being carried on their shields by their women folk to their last resting places. He could hear water splashing from a fountain in an enclosed courtyard that he had glimpsed as he was ushered into the house, and sparrows chirped outside. The combined sound lent a cool and peaceful atmosphere to the surroundings.

  It was very quiet after the endless noise and bustle o
f the harbor where he had spent the last week. He imagined there to be a bath and envied the owners of the villa this luxury. He and his companions, those who actually did bathe, went to the public bath near the inn where they were quartered. He thought about other countries he had visited and compared their lifestyle to the one he witnessed here. The Arabs perhaps came close, and the wealthy people in Isfahan too, but for the most part the wealth in those countries was concentrated in the hands of the upper aristocracy and royalty, whereas in this city it was not so well defined. The house that Alexios lived in was sumptuously appointed and from what Talon knew about him his father was merely a senator, which Talon supposed to be some kind of prince.

  He was sitting on a stone bench when he heard the tap of a stick on the polished tiles coming from down the corridor in the direction of the fountain. An elderly man walked into view, accompanied by a eunuch. Talon was now able to recognize eunuchs by of their long limbs and tall frames, and while many Greeks shaved, their distinctively smooth cheeks were a characteristic of these people. This had been pointed out to him by Alexios when they had first arrived.

  The old man stopped just inside the door and peered at him. Talon stood up and regarded the man in turn. The newcomer had a slight stoop and was dressed in a loose tunic that looked like linen and had many folds to it. It looked cool and appropriate for the warmth of late summer. He possessed a good amount of white hair and his full beard was graying. His features were lined but strong and his intelligent eyes peered out from under bushy eyebrows.