“Well, you survived, and as this is not our business we should go about our own now and forget it happened,” Max stated.
“What about your intent to bring Caravello to justice for what he did to us in Alexandria, Max?”
“If it means that you are going to be cut up, then perhaps we should reconsider. We are out of our depth here in this city, Talon. Perhaps there are things we should stay away from especially—a wealthy senator. They wield power here,” Max said.
Talon was not satisfied but he held his tongue. His friend was tired and out of sorts. He needed to think about what had happened, and then there was the vexing problem of Theodora. He leaned back against the stone, his thoughts going back to their encounter. This slip of a girl was intelligent, perplexing, and it seemed, determined to become a woman. He would have to be very careful it did not happen while he was there. Suddenly the inn seemed inviting. Max interrupted his quiet reflections.
“Isn’t the ship due back, Talon?”
“It is, and I have something else to tell you, Max.”
Talon then went on to recount his meeting with Alexios, their animated discussion the day before, and their plans.
“First, though, we should pay our respects to Alexios, who is wondering why you have not been to see him much lately.”
Max nodded agreement and slapped Talon on the back. “I would like that,” he said.
They went inside, but just as they did so they saw Joannina with another guest. It was Nikoporus.
Talon and Max bowed to Joannina, who smiled. “Good morning, gentlemen. As you can see we have a visitor who wants to see Alexios.”
“God’s blessings on you, Niko,” Talon said, as Niko embraced him in a fierce bear hug which made him wince from the pain it caused his wound.
“God’s blessings on you both, Talon, Max,” he said with tears in his eyes. He embraced an awkward Max and then stood back and looked at them.
“I heard many, many rumors about the campaign, and most of them were of the worst kind,” he said. “My lady Joannina told me part of the story about how you brought Alex out. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for doing that.” He spoke with a catch in his voice.
Max answered gruffly. “Many did not come back from the slaughter, Niko. We were the lucky ones, and it was our duty to bring him back safely if we could.”
“I know that is true, Max, but you did it when many would have thought only of their own skins.”
“Come,” Joannina said softly. “I shall take you to see my son. But this time, Talon, you must promise me on your honor that you will not tire him.”
“My Lady, it was all his fault he wanted to talk about…” Talon gave her a guilty grin.
“I know, but you will have to take charge or I shall come and chase you out myself. Now go in there and cheer him up,” she said, but it was with a smile.
*****
Alexios was delighted to see them. He had been looking out of the open window at the garden when they walked in. Talon caught the pensive expression on his face but that cleared at the sight of them, replaced with surprise and pleasure. “Niko! About time. God’s blessing!”
Nikoporus laughed and shrugged. “The Admirals keep me busy; besides which, although the army returned with a great deal of noise, your arrival was much quieter.”
Nikoporus and Alexios embraced while Talon and Max stood back and watched. It was clear that these two fast friends were very glad to see one another. Nikoporus was getting emotional again so Talon asked one of the servants hovering about if he would bring some wine.
The wine came and they drew up stools in a cluster about the bed of the invalid.
“I thought that tzykanion was supposed to give you the skills that prevent you from getting knocked about in a battle, Alex. What happened?” Nikoporus said in a feeble attempt at humor.
Alexios grinned sheepishly. “The knee injury came from nowhere. I was busy trying to protect my middle when I was struck in two places almost at the same time. That, my friend, not even you, dexterous as you might be on a horse, could have avoided.”
“The important thing is that you came back,” Nikoporus said, his tone somber. “Tell me about it. All I have had up to now has been second-hand stories.”
They told him the whole story: their attempts to stop the army from going in, the advance through the gorge fighting for every inch of ground, and then the hideous night in the makeshift fort. Alexios told most of the story but asked Talon and Max to fill in where he was vague, which was for most of the final effort to reach Dorylaeum. Nikoporus was uncharacteristically silent through this part of the story. When they had finished he shook his head. “Abandoning so many men the way it was done…that cannot have helped morale, and I hear that it has done the emperor’s reputation no good either.”
“What do you mean, Niko?” Alexios asked.
“The army arrived back in a sorry state, thoroughly demoralized, and then the rumblings of anger began. I heard that voices were raised in the senate but no one has openly criticized the emperor, none would dare. But there is much discontent in the army and the city at our losses, and more than that, our humiliation at the hands of the Turks.”
“I do not know what else he could have done, given the circumstances, Niko,” Talon remarked.
“The army could not stay and fight. The Turks were stinging our flanks but they were too clever to stand and fight it out,” Max added. “To stay would have meant the destruction of what remained of the army.”
The conversation continued for over an hour, at which time Talon was looking over his shoulder apprehensively for Joannina to arrive and chase them away. He stood, indicating that it was time to leave.
Nikoporus embraced Alexios and they left the room, saying they would be back within a couple of days. On the way out Nikoporus said, “He looks exhausted, Talon. What do you think about that leg of his?”
“God help him, Niko, but he isn’t going to walk far on that leg again. The wound is very bad.”
Nikoporus stared at him in disbelief. “Are you sure? That is terrible. Does he know?”
“I think so, but he will not admit to it. Soon we need to get him up to exercise the leg, but the physician will have to allow it when the time is right.”
“Will he be able to ride again?”
“I think so, but I doubt if he will be able to play tzykanion again.”
Nikoporus looked sad and shook his head. “He loved that game,” he said. Then he changed the subject.
“I have to go back to the harbor, the same one that your ship came into originally, Kontoskalion. My ship is there now and I wondered if you would like to come with me and have a look? You and Max?”
Talon and Max needed no persuasion. Waving to the distant Joannina, who was stepping into the gardens, they exited the main house and hurried down the path to the gates. Talon could not wait to leave. He wanted to get rid of his little bundle of rags before someone noticed.
Within a short while they were down the hill and near the harbor of Kontoskalion. Nikoporus was recognized and they were quickly waved through the gates by the sentries and a youthful officer who saluted him. Alongside the quay was a large, sleek looking battle dromon. The walkways were crowded, but overseers kicked and pushed slaves out of their way as they strode along the stone quay. Nikoporus stopped at the gangway and waved his hand at the ship.
“What do you think of it?” he asked. His tone was proud, even proprietary.
Talon looked over the warship with its many colorful pennants snapping in the breeze; one of the pennants bore an image of the two-headed eagle, the symbol of the empire of Byzantium.
“Is it your ship?” Talon asked. He liked what he saw.
“Yes…well, no, not quite, but I am the most senior officer on it so I am acting captain at present,” Nikoporus said.
Talon’s eye followed the graceful lines of the vessel tugging gently at its moorings. It was larger than his own ship and looked very businesslik
e with its long and menacing ram that was half under the waterline. Rising sharply from the ram in a sweeping curve that defined the bows of the ship was the figurehead, shaped in the form of a mythical creature of the sea, its jaws open wide and its claws rising out of the wooden frame that supported it. There were two tiers of rowing ports that extended from the rear decks to the base of the forecastle—something his own ship lacked—and he noticed that among the usual clutter of a ship there was something else on the deck. He could not make it out very clearly, but thought it might be one of the fearsome weapons he had heard about.
There were two masts, one just forward of the center of the boat and one aft where a lateen sail could be rigged to assist with steering, thus making the ship very maneuverable in all kinds of weather. That was about as much as Talon could understand about a ship.
“Come on,” Nikoporus said and walked up the gangplank. Their arrival had been noticed. Men ran to the forecastle and covered the strange looking device with a thick cloth of some sort, and in the waist there was further activity. Nikoporus was greeted by an officer who saluted him respectfully as they boarded.
Talon looked at their companion with new eyes. He had thought that, although a nice fellow and a very good tzykanion player, young Niko was nothing more. The fact that he was in charge of this deadly looking weapon of war impressed Talon, and evidently Max as well, who gave Talon a surprised look with one raised eyebrow. They followed Niko willingly enough onto the deck where introductions were made and translated for the benefit of Max.
Nikoporus motioned the officer, a young man about the same age as he, to lead the way onto the upper aft deck. Talon would have preferred to have a look at the forecastle where that the strange looking device was now completely covered, but then he realized that there were some of the same items squatting in the waist of the ship on either side of the deck pointing out through openings in the sides.
They were taken up to the aft deck where they could see the length of the ship. Talon glanced about with interest before casually asking about the odd looking things on the main deck. He pointed innocently at them.
“Ah, those.” Nikoporus cast a meaningful look at his colleague. “These are our fire weapons. They are known as ‘Sea fire’ throwers.
Talon remembered the comments of Sir Guy. He had called it ‘Greek Fire.’
“What do they do?” he asked, as though he had never heard of it before. He thought he knew but he wanted to hear what Niko would say.
“We can maneuver near to an enemy boat and throw the liquid from these tubes onto their boat and set it afire,” the officer said. His tone was guarded.
Talon translated for Max, who crossed himself. “It sounds like an infernal device,” he said.
When Talon explained what Max had said to the two Greeks they both laughed grimly.
“It is indeed an infernal device, but God has given us the knowledge to make it and use it, and we have been able to do so effectively against the Arabs. Twice we have defeated them at sea because of this weapon and saved our city,” Nikoporus said.
“How does it work?” Talon asked. He was very curious, but the officer shook his head and Nikoporus said quietly, “It is a closely guarded secret, one that only those who operate the device know. It is all very confidential, Talon, and even if I did know—which I do not—I could not tell you on pain of death. I can tell you this, however. If we throw the substance at another ship even the sea will boil and that ship will burn to the water no matter what the crew tries to do to stop it.”
Talon was awed. This was truly a terrible weapon, and his mind went back to the evening before when he thought he had heard the name. All he could see was a long tube sticking out from under a thick oilcloth covering, nothing more. He did notice that the end of the tube was smudged black.
“Have you ever seen it happen?” Talon asked Nikoporus.
“We both have,” Nikoporus said with another look at his colleague. “We were on patrol at the entrance to the Hellespont one day when a pirate attacked a merchant ship. He saw us coming and tried to run for it, but we came up behind him and fired the liquid at his ship. It burned down so rapidly that few of the crew survived. I shall never forget how quickly the ship went up in smoke and flame.” He shook his head. “The pirate ship had no chance at all. Nor did the people in the water.”
“So there are many people who would like to have this device, your enemies perhaps?”
Nikoporus shot him a sharp look. “Many have tried, but no, none have managed to steal it from us as yet. God forbid that they do.” Now it was his turn to cross himself. “Why do you ask?”
“I think that must be obvious,” Talon returned. “This is a deadly weapon for the sea. Those who possess it are almost invincible, am I not right? Your enemies must desire it greatly, both for offense and defense.”
Nikoporus nodded. “You are right, of course.”
A huge roar from the crowd in the Hippodrome on the hillside above interrupted further conversation. The chariot races were taking place once more.
“They will miss Pantoleon,” Nikoporus said.
The visit did not last very long, there was only so much they could be shown, but Talon left impressed with the condition of the ship and the apparent discipline of the crew. Leaving Nikoporus on board, Talon and Max headed for the inn to have lunch and talk about what they had seen on the boat.
*****
By morning Senator Spartenos was seething with rage. There was no sign of the intruder. His men had scoured the streets of the hillside and found no trace of him. There was only one thin clue and the dogs had provided that. They had guided the hunters to a wall that surrounded the estate of the senator Kalothesos. The dogs had become quite excited, milling about the base of the wall, whining and looking up at the top, but the men could not go into the property. Besides, they had woken up the guards within, who enquired rudely as to what they thought they were doing making so much noise outside a senator’s house.
Psellos had shouted, “We are following a fugitive from justice who we think might have gone over the wall. Have you seen anything?”
The guards inside had looked at one another and promptly denied that any such thing had happened. “We have been patrolling all night and would have seen someone come over the wall, you can be sure of it. This is the estate of Senator Kalothesos and he will not take kindly to you making all that noise. Shove off!” they had shouted back.
Psellos had grimaced with disbelief and called his men away. “They were probably asleep or playing around with one of the servant girls,” he muttered. Soon after, they had trooped back to the compound of senator Spartenos.
Reporting to the senator, Psellos mentioned that he thought the guards might be lying.
John Spartenos looked thoughtful. “I will pay the house a visit and see if there is anything I can find out for myself. In the meantime, think of how the man could have even known to come here. Was that oaf Caravello followed here perhaps? Find out.”
Psellos nodded and his deep set eyes flamed briefly. Despite the lack of sleep he was enjoying the attention. Choumnos being out of action, even if not for long, left him in charge of the hunt and he liked that.
“I shall go down to the harbor immediately, Sir,” he said.
Spartenos turned away and called for his litter. He preferred riding in the palanquin to walking, and besides, it made for a grander entrance.
It was not long before his servants and bearers were standing outside the house of his colleague Senator Kalothesos. Servants from the household were bustling about, agitated that a man of his consequence should have arrived unannounced. He waited patiently for his men to put his litter down and then walked up the entrance stairs to be greeted by an obsequious servant who showed him into the anteroom.
He was standing admiring the frescoes on the wall when there was a light step behind him. Turning he smiled at Joannina who was coming toward him. He allowed himself to indulge in the appreciation of this
beautiful woman. Despite her mature years she could still stir a man, he reflected as he watched her. Perhaps she felt his intense gaze as she approached because she lowered her eyes modestly. However she greeted him warmly and held out her hands to his, which he held for just a few moments longer than than he needed to. She released his hands and said, “It is good to see you, Senator. We share your grief for your wonderful son.”
He lowered his head for a moment then lifted his eyes, bright with unshed tears to gaze into hers. “My son Pantoleon would have made a great general one day. To lose him in the prime of his life is a devastating blow to myself and Constance. My wife is inconsolable. All because the Emperor could not make the right decisions that day!”
Joannina had tears in her eyes. “May God receive his soul and grant it peace in Heaven. They all say that he was going to be a great man, just like his father. We too mourn his loss.”
“Please call me John. Our families are friends, and there should be no formality here, do you not think? May I call you Joannina, my Lady?” he asked, his tone deferential as he wiped an imaginary tear away with the hem of his toga.
“To what do we owe the honor of this visit…John? It has been a little while since I saw you last,” Joannina asked him, indicating that he should be seated. She glanced at one of the hovering servants, who disappeared to obtain some refreshments.
“You will stay for a while, will you not, and honor our house with your presence?”
“It is I who would be honored. I apologize for the early hour,” he returned, his smile avuncular.
At this moment there was the sound of footsteps outside and Theodora walked into the room. She stopped in surprise as the sight of the visitor and then made a clumsy curtsy.
“I am sorry, Mama, I did not know we had company,” she said.
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