anything I tell you.’
‘Of course I won’t.’
Vallon blew out his cheeks. ‘China is an empire on the other side of the world, a year’s journey away, a year back. I’ll be old before I return.
If
I return.’
Caitlin took both his hands. ‘You’re frozen.’ She turned and called. A maid appeared. ‘Hot wine for the master.’ Caitlin led him to a couch, sat him down and knelt before him, kneading his hands. ‘I couldn’t bear such a long separation.’
Vallon shrugged. ‘The only way to avoid the mission would be to flee Byzantium.’
‘Where would we go?’
Another shrug. ‘I could take up the Seljuk Sultan’s offer to join his army.’ Vallon laughed. ‘I encountered the Normans’ second-in-command on the field of battle. He made a similar offer. I could go anywhere they’d employ an ageing mercenary.’
Caitlin looked around the comfortable apartment. ‘It would mean giving up everything and starting afresh in a foreign land. The children would have to learn new languages.’
Vallon sat straight. ‘No. I won’t allow my family to be uprooted. I’ll carry out my orders, even if I might never see my loved ones again. I’m sorry that you will have to make a similar sacrifice.’
The maid returned with the wine. Vallon turned the cup in both hands. Caitlin rose and sat beside him. ‘If anyone can make the journey and return home safe, it’s you.’
Vallon lifted the cup to his lips and knocked it back in one, aware that Caitlin had made only a token stand against what was effectively a death sentence delivered against her husband.
‘How long until you leave?’ she asked.
‘Three months.’
‘Then there’s hope. The emperor might change his mind before then. Every week brings news of fresh alarms on the frontier. They won’t send you on such a far-flung expedition if there’s fighting to be done closer to home.’
Vallon summoned a smile. He squeezed Caitlin’s hand. ‘You’re right.’
Her expression became pensive. ‘If you do go, will you ask Hero to join you?’
Vallon swung round. ‘Of course not. It didn’t even occur to me. As for summoning him… He’s a distinguished physician in Italy. He wouldn’t throw up his career to tag along on some reckless adventure. Heaven forbid.’
Caitlin leaned towards the fire. ‘And Aiken?’
Vallon studied her face in profile, the firelight gilding her skin. He stroked a hand down her cheek. ‘No. The challenge is too severe. The lad will stay here and continue his studies.’
Caitlin closed her eyes in relief and kissed Vallon on the lips. ‘Thank you, husband.’ She rose in one graceful movement and extended her hand. ‘I think it’s time we retired.’
Vallon pressed her hand to his lips. ‘I fear my thoughts are too wrenched about to give you the consideration you deserve.’
Caitlin brushed her hand over Vallon’s head and withdrew.
He watched her glide out of the room, his thoughts dark and rancid. Much later his servant found him staring into the fire, studying the pulsing embers as if they were a prefigurement of his destiny, open to any interpretation.
IV
Hero stood in the bow, a warm breeze from the south blowing his hair about his face. The first swallows of spring skimmed the surface around the ship, and high in the sky storks drifted in lazy gyrations on the way back to their nesting grounds. Ahead, the Sea of Marmara funnelled into the Bosporus, the mile-wide strait flecked with sails, the city of Constantinople beginning to shape itself out of the haze on the western shore. With swelling heart, Hero watched the metropolis draw nearer, its sea walls taking on massive form, mansions and palaces and tenements spilling over the promontory in a great upwelling of civilisation.
He glanced around smiling, wanting to share his pleasure, and his gaze fell on a youth watching the approaching city with a mixture of awe and apprehension. The lad was Frankish, only about sixteen, but tall and well-set
‘Of course I won’t.’
Vallon blew out his cheeks. ‘China is an empire on the other side of the world, a year’s journey away, a year back. I’ll be old before I return.
If
I return.’
Caitlin took both his hands. ‘You’re frozen.’ She turned and called. A maid appeared. ‘Hot wine for the master.’ Caitlin led him to a couch, sat him down and knelt before him, kneading his hands. ‘I couldn’t bear such a long separation.’
Vallon shrugged. ‘The only way to avoid the mission would be to flee Byzantium.’
‘Where would we go?’
Another shrug. ‘I could take up the Seljuk Sultan’s offer to join his army.’ Vallon laughed. ‘I encountered the Normans’ second-in-command on the field of battle. He made a similar offer. I could go anywhere they’d employ an ageing mercenary.’
Caitlin looked around the comfortable apartment. ‘It would mean giving up everything and starting afresh in a foreign land. The children would have to learn new languages.’
Vallon sat straight. ‘No. I won’t allow my family to be uprooted. I’ll carry out my orders, even if I might never see my loved ones again. I’m sorry that you will have to make a similar sacrifice.’
The maid returned with the wine. Vallon turned the cup in both hands. Caitlin rose and sat beside him. ‘If anyone can make the journey and return home safe, it’s you.’
Vallon lifted the cup to his lips and knocked it back in one, aware that Caitlin had made only a token stand against what was effectively a death sentence delivered against her husband.
‘How long until you leave?’ she asked.
‘Three months.’
‘Then there’s hope. The emperor might change his mind before then. Every week brings news of fresh alarms on the frontier. They won’t send you on such a far-flung expedition if there’s fighting to be done closer to home.’
Vallon summoned a smile. He squeezed Caitlin’s hand. ‘You’re right.’
Her expression became pensive. ‘If you do go, will you ask Hero to join you?’
Vallon swung round. ‘Of course not. It didn’t even occur to me. As for summoning him… He’s a distinguished physician in Italy. He wouldn’t throw up his career to tag along on some reckless adventure. Heaven forbid.’
Caitlin leaned towards the fire. ‘And Aiken?’
Vallon studied her face in profile, the firelight gilding her skin. He stroked a hand down her cheek. ‘No. The challenge is too severe. The lad will stay here and continue his studies.’
Caitlin closed her eyes in relief and kissed Vallon on the lips. ‘Thank you, husband.’ She rose in one graceful movement and extended her hand. ‘I think it’s time we retired.’
Vallon pressed her hand to his lips. ‘I fear my thoughts are too wrenched about to give you the consideration you deserve.’
Caitlin brushed her hand over Vallon’s head and withdrew.
He watched her glide out of the room, his thoughts dark and rancid. Much later his servant found him staring into the fire, studying the pulsing embers as if they were a prefigurement of his destiny, open to any interpretation.
IV
Hero stood in the bow, a warm breeze from the south blowing his hair about his face. The first swallows of spring skimmed the surface around the ship, and high in the sky storks drifted in lazy gyrations on the way back to their nesting grounds. Ahead, the Sea of Marmara funnelled into the Bosporus, the mile-wide strait flecked with sails, the city of Constantinople beginning to shape itself out of the haze on the western shore. With swelling heart, Hero watched the metropolis draw nearer, its sea walls taking on massive form, mansions and palaces and tenements spilling over the promontory in a great upwelling of civilisation.
He glanced around smiling, wanting to share his pleasure, and his gaze fell on a youth watching the approaching city with a mixture of awe and apprehension. The lad was Frankish, only about sixteen, but tall and well-set
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