layers of thick rugs, all of them intricately woven in the Eastern style, displaying twisting patterns of flowers and ovals, diamonds and hexagons, alongside naked humanoid shapes – gods and monsters and men - that seemed to writhe when the eye fell on them.
The carpets were strewn with purple and gold cushions, and the marble busts of four Emperors stood in each corner. Tellingly, they were four of the worst Emperors the Empire had ever known, masters of every kind of cruelty and depraved excess: Caligula, Nero, Caracalla and Elagabalus.
In the middle of this opulent, slightly queasy splendour, was a large divan and an elaborately carved table made of some dark polished wood.
The occupant of the divan smiled at me, and raised his goblet in salute. He was an u gly, crippled, dwarfish eunuch, as corrupt in mind as he was in body.
“Hello, Coel,” said Narses.
8.
I stiffened, my hand flying to the hilt of Caledfwlch, half-expecting to feel the sharp kiss of steel in my back. Narses’ guards were just outside, well within striking distance.
A high-pitched little giggle came from the divan. “Oh, really,” said Narses in that piping squeak I remembered so well, “don’t be so jumpy. Do you think I mean to have you killed? How divine.”
He wiped his mouth, and mopped at some wine spillage down the front of his loose robe. “If I wanted you dead,” he added, discreetly stifling a belch, “you would already be enjoying the company of your ancestors. I imagine you and your grandfather would have a lot to say to each other.”
I shuffled away from the entrance, keeping a wary eye on him. He was impossible to trust, the wiliest and greasiest politician in Constantinople, intelligent, devious and merciless. His enemies tended to underestimate him, and made the mistake of judging him by his feeble, stunted form. His enemies tended to die.
Narses was my enemy, or so I thought. The last time we met, in Constantinople, he had demanded I give him Caledfwlch. I refused. Narses was not used to being denied.
He took another sip of wine. “Quite a coincidence, you coming here,” he said, “God wants us to be together. I cannot help noticing that I am making all the conversation.”
“Perhaps God has sent me here,” I hissed, “I could kill you, here and now. Try calling for your guards. I would reach you first.”
I half-drew Caledfwlch, exposing several inches of bright steel. Narses’ eyes flickered, but his manner didn’t change.
“What is all this talk of killing?” he asked, gently placing his cup on the table, “I have an inexhaustible list of enemies, entire ledgers full of names, but had not counted yours among them.”
I lost my temper. “You tried to have me murdered in Constantinople! Your assassins laid siege to Belisarius’ house while I recovered from my wounds, and then stalked me through the streets. You sent Elene and a treacherous guardsmen to hunt me through the ruins of the aqueduct outside Naples. Only God preserved me from the blades of your hired killers.”
My anger was somewhat co ntrived. I didn’t know if he was behind all these attempts on my life, and wanted to draw the truth out of him. Hard experience had taught me a degree of artfulness, though I was never a match for the likes of Narses.
He looked surprised, and even a little hurt. “Dear me,” he exclaimed, shaking his ugly head, “it seems there has been a misunderstanding. I bore no grudge against you for refusing to hand over Caesar’s sword. After all, it is the most precious thing in the world to you. I merely saw it as an interesting relic.”
“As for the various bungled ef forts to kill you,” he went on, “I did indeed have men watching you in Constantinople, but they were there for your protection. I can only assume Belisarius told you otherwise. Regarding Elene, I would not be so coarse as to send one of your
The carpets were strewn with purple and gold cushions, and the marble busts of four Emperors stood in each corner. Tellingly, they were four of the worst Emperors the Empire had ever known, masters of every kind of cruelty and depraved excess: Caligula, Nero, Caracalla and Elagabalus.
In the middle of this opulent, slightly queasy splendour, was a large divan and an elaborately carved table made of some dark polished wood.
The occupant of the divan smiled at me, and raised his goblet in salute. He was an u gly, crippled, dwarfish eunuch, as corrupt in mind as he was in body.
“Hello, Coel,” said Narses.
8.
I stiffened, my hand flying to the hilt of Caledfwlch, half-expecting to feel the sharp kiss of steel in my back. Narses’ guards were just outside, well within striking distance.
A high-pitched little giggle came from the divan. “Oh, really,” said Narses in that piping squeak I remembered so well, “don’t be so jumpy. Do you think I mean to have you killed? How divine.”
He wiped his mouth, and mopped at some wine spillage down the front of his loose robe. “If I wanted you dead,” he added, discreetly stifling a belch, “you would already be enjoying the company of your ancestors. I imagine you and your grandfather would have a lot to say to each other.”
I shuffled away from the entrance, keeping a wary eye on him. He was impossible to trust, the wiliest and greasiest politician in Constantinople, intelligent, devious and merciless. His enemies tended to underestimate him, and made the mistake of judging him by his feeble, stunted form. His enemies tended to die.
Narses was my enemy, or so I thought. The last time we met, in Constantinople, he had demanded I give him Caledfwlch. I refused. Narses was not used to being denied.
He took another sip of wine. “Quite a coincidence, you coming here,” he said, “God wants us to be together. I cannot help noticing that I am making all the conversation.”
“Perhaps God has sent me here,” I hissed, “I could kill you, here and now. Try calling for your guards. I would reach you first.”
I half-drew Caledfwlch, exposing several inches of bright steel. Narses’ eyes flickered, but his manner didn’t change.
“What is all this talk of killing?” he asked, gently placing his cup on the table, “I have an inexhaustible list of enemies, entire ledgers full of names, but had not counted yours among them.”
I lost my temper. “You tried to have me murdered in Constantinople! Your assassins laid siege to Belisarius’ house while I recovered from my wounds, and then stalked me through the streets. You sent Elene and a treacherous guardsmen to hunt me through the ruins of the aqueduct outside Naples. Only God preserved me from the blades of your hired killers.”
My anger was somewhat co ntrived. I didn’t know if he was behind all these attempts on my life, and wanted to draw the truth out of him. Hard experience had taught me a degree of artfulness, though I was never a match for the likes of Narses.
He looked surprised, and even a little hurt. “Dear me,” he exclaimed, shaking his ugly head, “it seems there has been a misunderstanding. I bore no grudge against you for refusing to hand over Caesar’s sword. After all, it is the most precious thing in the world to you. I merely saw it as an interesting relic.”
“As for the various bungled ef forts to kill you,” he went on, “I did indeed have men watching you in Constantinople, but they were there for your protection. I can only assume Belisarius told you otherwise. Regarding Elene, I would not be so coarse as to send one of your
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