“What have we here, John?” the old man asked the servant accompanying him, squinting at Talon.
“My name is Talon, Sir. I am here to see Alexios,” Talon stated.
At that moment Talon heard the slap of sandals on the tiles and Alexios hurried into the hallway.
“Talon, greetings. Please come this way.” He led the way into a large comfortable room off from the anteroom and bade Talon be seated. Then he addressed the old man who had followed them. “Father, this is Talon, whom I was talking about earlier.”
“Ah yes, the Frank. A Templar I believe. What is it exactly that you Templars do?” The old man’s tone was not friendly.
“The Order of the Templars was formed to protect pilgrims on their journey from the coast to the city of Jerusalem because of the bandits along the way, Sir.”
“I hear they are a grubby lot, never bathe. Do you bathe, boy?”
“Talon,” interrupted Alexios, “this is my father, Damianus. He is a little off color today. Father, Talon is my guest and I would be grateful if you would be nice to him. This is his first time in Constantinople.”
“You said he was a Frank. Of course it is the first time he has been to our city. They do not even have cities in the Latin countries, do they, boy?”
Talon was brought to mind of the statement his friend in Languedoc had told him about Paris and the muddy streets where wolves roamed in winter. He decided to hold his tongue.
“Father, please!”
Damianus stared at Talon with his keen eyes. “My family can trace its ancestry back to the time of Belisarius, young Frank, which for your information was almost six hundred years ago. What do you think of that? And you? Are you just another of those ignorant barbarians without any ancestry worth commenting upon who have come to stir up trouble for our emperor, as if he does not have enough problems to deal with already?”
“Well, Sir, I did not come here to stir up any trouble, and I might just have some ancestry. My family name is Gilles and the Duke Raymond of Edessa was a very distant relative.”
“Ah, yes, of course! Isn’t he the one that was beaten recently by the Turks and had his head pickled and sent to the Caliph of Baghdad?” the old man said with a smirk.
“Father! That is a grossly distasteful thing to say!” Alexios said. His face was flushed with anger.
“Talon, you must excuse my father. He is getting old and forgets that a visitor should be treated better.” He cast a hard look at his father who got up and said, “My son, the Franks, of whom this is one, have been stabbing us in the back in the form of Robert Guiscard of Sicily for a decade now. Norman, Frank, what is the difference? What makes you think that this one is going to be any different from the rest of those pirates? Why in God’s name did you bring him here? Lest you forget, this is my house…at least until I die.”
Talon stood up, “I am sorry, Alexios. Sir, I should perhaps leave, as it is clear to me that you do not wish me to be here.”
The old man glared at him from under his thick grey eyebrows. “I see you speak Greek? Well, that is a start, I suppose. None of the other Franks I have met seem to be able to master another language.”
“Father, Talon speaks Persian, Arabic, and our own Greek.” Alexios was fuming. “You should follow your own advice and give people the benefit of the doubt before you judge them.”
“It seems that you have won my son over, Frank. It also seems that I do not have the right to choose who comes inside my doors any more. I shall leave you now. Goodbye.”
He glared at his son and, leaning heavily on his stick, waved to one of the hovering eunuchs to help him out of the room.
After they had gone there was an awkward silence in the room. Talon was still standing. He felt sorry for Alexios, who was clearly upset and deeply embarrassed by the old man’s behavior. His normal cool and aloof demeanor was replaced by one of acute embarrassment mingled with anger.
“I am very sorry for that display from my father, Talon.” Alexios said. His jaw was clenched.
“I should probably leave, Alexios. I did not want to embarrass you and should not stay further. I also wanted to tell you that Sir Guy had other business and could not come in any case.”
“Embarrass whom?” a voice said.
They both turned towards a woman who now stood at the entrance of the chamber.
“Ah, Mother. This is Sir Talon of the Knights Templar who is visiting us on a mission to the emperor. Father has just been inexcusably rude and insulted him beyond redemption. So I fear that he is about to leave.”
The tall, slim, middle-aged woman seemed to glide into the room. She was elegantly dressed in a light green robe that was more of a sheath with rich embroidery on its hems which could only have been made of the finest woven cotton or silk, for it shimmered as she moved. Talon caught the scent of rose flowers as she approached.
Her slippers were of finely worked leather and she wore gold bracelets on her wrists that gave off a light jingle as she walked. Her jet-black hair, streaked with gray, was pinned high, enhancing her height. She was a classically beautiful woman, with a long, elegant neck and a slightly long face. Her full, sensuous mouth and large, dark, deep-set eyes and strong nose made for striking features. Her eyebrows were plucked to a thin line and her lips were painted with something that made them red. Talon had not met a woman so well groomed or so elegantly dressed since he had left his Aunt Fariba behind in far away Isfahan.
Intelligent eyes watched Talon as she walked towards them and presented her cheek to her son. He leaned down and kissed her with affection.
“So it was your father who embarrassed this knight, my son?” she asked, not taking her eyes off Talon as though sizing him up.
“He is old and becoming senile,” Alexios said, clearly upset, “and Sir Talon is not as the other Franks that we have known. He has travelled to many countries, more than I have, and has much to tell us of those places. I thought he would like to visit us and you might like to hear about his travels.”
“My dear, do not be so disrespectful of your father,” she admonished him with a smile to take away the sting of the words. Then she turned to Talon and said, “Well, you cannot leave now, even if I also have to apologize for my husband’s behavior.” She tilted her head to one side and gave Talon a sweet smile.
She was, he decided, a very beautiful woman who was many years younger than her husband.
She indicated the couch with an elegant hand and sat down herself. “Please, Sir Talon, how can we make it up to you?’
Talon grinned despite his annoyance. “Madame, the discomfort on Alexios’s face was apology enough. I shall stay a little longer perhaps.”
Alexios breathed a sigh of relief and grinned back. “Thank you, Talon. My father is getting old. He was once a general and fought for John Komnenos, the emperor’s father, winning many honors and much wealth. He fought just about everyone at some time or another, and now all he has is his memories of those battles. It makes him…somewhat irascible and unsocial, and we have to put up with it. He is also an unspeakable snob about family, as you might have gathered.”
He turned to his mother. “I have also forgotten my manners. Talon, my mother, Joannina.”
Talon bowed from the waist. “I am honored, My Lady.”
“He speaks passable Attic, how so?” she asked Alexios, looking surprised.
“We spent some long weeks on the ship getting that right, Mother,” Alexios said with a wry smile.
She laughed. “Do not worry about my husband. We won’t see him again today. Tell me what you are doing here in Constantinople, Sir Knight. What do you think of our fair city?”
“I am in awe of this great city, My Lady. Utterly in awe!” Talon told her sincerely. “It is magnificent! I have never been to a city so full of such impressive architecture, such beautiful churches and enormous palaces. I had not known that a mere street could be so wide and…so beautiful, paved from one end to the other with stone.”
Joann
ina glowed at the praise almost as though she herself were being complimented. “Do you not then have palaces and cities of this stature in the Latin countries?” she asked.
“I must confess I have not traveled much in those countries, My Lady. Only for a brief time in Languedoc, which is the home of my parents, and although the city of Carcassonne is an impressive fortification it cannot compare to this city in size nor beauty.”
“And where exactly is this Languedoc you are talking about?”
“It is near to Aquitaine, My Lady.”
“Of course we all know where that is! It is the land of the beautiful Queen Eleanor, who came through this city many years ago. I was but a small girl then but I did get to see her.”
She gave her son a quick glance. “Ah, now I understand. You are the strange Frank who has lived his entire life in the Arab countries and Persia. Alexios has been talking about you.”
Talon glanced at Alexios then nodded. “Indeed, My Lady, I have lived in these countries. I grew up…as a boy in Palestine.”
She appeared to make up her mind. “Will you not stay for the evening meal, Sir? I would hear more of your travels.”
Talon glanced again at Alexios, who grinned. “You cannot refuse my mother, Talon.”
Talon smiled at both of them. “Indeed, that would be bad manners. I would be honored to stay, My Lady.”
“It is Joannina, and I shall call you Talon,” she said with a laugh.
The meal was a success and his hosts made every effort to make him feel welcome. Being used to eastern foods the delicate, well prepared food did not come as any surprise to Talon, but it was of a far higher quality than even the good fare he and his companions had come to enjoy for over two weeks now.
The servants brought many servings, from most of which the family members took only a small portion before the dish was whisked away, presumably for the servants to finish off in the kitchens. Talon was seated at one end of a huge polished wooden table laid for five people, but there were only the three of them present. Servants hovered silently in the background or moved around the room, presenting food of differing kinds and flavors. Despite his experience with Eastern cuisine he was bemused by the variety of dishes placed before him. They were predominantly Greek, but there was much similarity to the food he had eaten in Persia and in Egypt. He was familiar with dolma; however, he was surprised at how many varieties of dolma could be presented: some were stuffed with chopped mushrooms in a sharp sauce, others with chopped chicken morsels over which pomegranate sauce had been poured, or mackerel paste mixed with hot spices that brought tears to his eyes.
They were served wine of a kind Talon had never tasted before; it left a pleasant taste in the his mouth and he resolved that he must learn some more about the way it was made. The deep red color and the taste on the back of the palate prepared him for the next course, which was a thick paste of sour goat’s cheese with bread on a small glazed pottery plate that a servant slipped under his nose. Following the actions of his host and hostess he tore off a piece of crisp baked bread and scooped up some pate and then, following the example of his hosts, he dipped it into a saucer of olive oil and chewed. It was delicious, and he closed his eyes the better to savor the taste.
“You seem to like our food, Sir Talon,” Joannina observed with a smile.
He nodded in silence and smiled. “Your food, My Lady, would melt the mouth of a statue of stone.”
She smiled, then she pushed a dish of something towards him. “Try this, Sir Talon. I think you will enjoy it.”
It was a dish of fish roe the color of light wine, and it tasted slightly salty but was of a creamy texture and quite delicious. It was followed by anchovies and chopped olives in garlic and rosemary. While he was munching on the bread he noticed a device next to his plate alongside a spoon. He picked it up and looked inquiringly at Alexios, who gave one of his tight smiles.
“It is the infamous fork, Talon,” he murmured.
Talon held it in his right fist, the two prongs upright. Joannina was smiling mischievously but Alexios kept a straight face and said, “Now you can spear your meat with it and bring it to your mouth without getting your hands filthy. Try the apaki.” He pointed with his own fork to the dish of meat slices covered in gravy that had been placed on the table nearby.
“What is that dish?” Talon asked, brandishing the fork and pretending he had never seen one before.
“It is lamb smoked over sage branches, then marinated in salt and vinegar, and then roasted over a charcoal fire” Joannina said. “I am sure you will like it. My cook is one of the best in this city.” She spoke proudly but looked as though she was about to giggle.
Alexios gave Talon a stern look that said enough of the play-acting before demonstrating the practical use of the fork by spearing a chunk of the lamb and placing it on his own plate. He cut it with a knife and then picked up a morsel and brought it to his mouth. He chewed with evident enjoyment. Talon remembered and the hilarity that had followed the first lessons on the boat.
He examined the fork in his hand. Its handle was made of ivory and the two prongs might even have been made of silver. He held it properly in his fingers and very carefully speared a piece off the main plate, then moved the fork towards his plate, where he cut a piece off and took it to his mouth, being careful to watch the fork all the way until his eyes nearly crossed.
“You do that very well, Sir Talon. It is almost as though you have done this before. Have you never seen this device before, Talon?” Joannina asked with an amused but impressed look at him. She looked as though she were about to explode with laughter. Even Alexios looked amused.
“I have indeed, My Lady, er, Joannina. Your son was good enough to teach me while we travelled here. It seems like a good idea, but do you not spear your mouth from time to time?” he asked, remembering when he had done so.
“I have not so far,” she said with dimple at the corner of her splendid lips. “Here in Constantinople in high society it is important to know how to use one. The use of fingers at table is frowned upon at the palace and now we all use forks. I am sure that it will be viewed with great distrust by your Frankish comrades if they should ever encounter one.”
“They will probably think it is some kind of weapon for use at the table upon their neighbors,” Talon said with a self-conscious laugh. “Where did it come from?”
“Why, the palace of course! They are always innovating, and as they spend a lot of time at the table I suppose this just came about. I am sure the Franks never use them, but do your Arabs and Persians?”
“I cannot say with certainty, but before your son showed me I had never seen one before,” Talon said.
“Ah, my son clearly wanted to prepare you for the palace,” she said.
The meal had progressed to the third course when they were joined by a girl of about fourteen who made a silent entry into the room dressed in a simple cotton tunic that came down to her ankles. She kissed her mother on the cheek and her brother, who greeted her with obvious affection, then she sat down with barely a glance at Talon. A servant quickly moved forward to provide her with a plate of small pastries. Talon had been told they were sfakiani; they reminded him of baklava but the bread was not the same as the thin flakey pastry of baklava. These were small pita bread pies with sour cheese and honey inside. She helped herself to several.
“You should apologize for being late, Theodora,” Joannina admonished the girl, attempting to sound stern. “Where is your sister?”
“She is out with her friends, Mama, but has to be back to the palace by tomorrow morning,” the girl said with her mouth full.
“Sir Talon, this is my little sister, Theodora. Theodora, this is Sir Talon, Knight of the Templars,” Alexios stated.
Theodora bobbed her head and stared at Talon.
“Are you a Frank? You look like one.”
“Theodora! Mind your manners. He has already been subjected to your father’s idea of a welcome.”
“I am sorry, Mama,” she said, sounding not in the least bit contrite.
“I am a Frank,” Talon told her. “But I live in Palestine.”
“What do you do there? Are you a crusader? Do you fight a lot? Manuel says that the Franks fight all the time.”
‘Er…yes, I suppose we do,” Talon said, taken aback by this small squall of questions. “But not all the time and there are many other things that we do as well.”
“Such as?” Her eyes never left his face while she forked morsels of pork into her pretty mouth. Her use of the fork was adept and Talon admired the way she slipped the food into her mouth apparently without the slightest fear that she might stab herself on the lips or tongue. He on the other hand used his fork with care.
Theodora resembled her mother in some ways but appeared even more delicate of frame and her eyes were a lighter brown. Her hair, almost auburn, was swept back into an untidy ponytail that showed off the fine bones of her face, which was marred only slightly by a high ridge to her nose, more pronounced than that of her mother.
“Well we…build castles all over the place,” Talon told her sounding serious to his own ears. She did not smile.
Alexios laughed. “Talon, my sister will prove even more difficult to talk to than Papa. She always has her nose in a book of some kind and understands the politics and history of the Romans even better than I.”
“That is because you have not read the memoirs of Auntie Anna and thus do not have a good foundation, brother,” Theodora said disdainfully, her mouth full.
“She is referring to my distant aunt, Anna Komnenos, who was an aunt of Manuel,” Joannina said, as though she had heard this discussion before. “My dearest, please do not talk with your mouth full; and if I might say so, you need to leave the library on occasion and spend a little more time on your duties around this house. How are you going to manage when and if you ever get married?”
Theodora sniffed. “Mother, you are so old fashioned. Auntie Anna never had to do household work. She had servants and eunuchs to do her bidding, as will I, married or not.”
Greek Fire Page 11