doubtless very holy informant in – in Syria? – has told you.
‘If you want relics, I’ll get you an appointment with the local Patriarch. He might be more accommodating than His Holiness of Jerusalem. I believe Alexandria has the head of Saint Mark, both feet of John the Baptist, and three right hands of Saint John the Divine. But there’s no holy piss pot that I know about – not of Jesus Christ, nor of anyone else likely to inspire your men.’
‘My sources are confidential,’ Priscus snapped, ‘but I have it on good authority the relic is where I’ve said.’
I changed the subject. ‘Have you any soldiers with you?’ I asked. An interesting thought had come into my mind. I’d rather Priscus had been stuck in a tent somewhere close by Armenia. Since he wasn’t, I might as well find some use in him.
But he shook his head. He’d come alone and in secrecy.
‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘You are Commander of the East, and I doubt if any of the notables here have been introduced to a military dignitary close to your exalted status. You must allow yourself to be guest of honour at tonight’s dinner. All the big men of Egypt will be there. And I think I can promise the Viceroy for you to sit beside.’
I took up the little bell from my desk and rang it.
‘Ah, Martin,’ I said as the door opened. ‘The Lord Caesar Priscus will be in Alexandria for at least the next few days. Please ask Macarius to make all necessary preparations in the Palace.’
Martin bowed. He let his fingers rasp ever so lightly on the papyrus sheet he was carrying.
‘A productive afternoon with our friend?’ I asked.
Martin nodded.
I ignored Priscus and his unspoken query. ‘That is excellent. My compliments to the pair of you.’
Again to Priscus: ‘When my steward arrives, you will surely do me the honour of letting me accompany you to your suite. If I’m not mistaken, one of your rooms will be the office where Cleopatra killed herself.’
Chapter 6
I was awake. At first, all was silent in the darkness around me. I was alone in bed. That much I knew even as my head cleared. With the Patriarch scowling away through dinner, there had been no dancing girls. And, out of respect, we’d used the older serving boys.
I’d come to bed alone. So why was I awake? Instinctively, I reached under the pillow. Then the tiny voice spoke out of the darkness: ‘Daddy!’
I relaxed and focused on the dim shape. ‘Maximin,’ I said. I reached out and took his hand. As he clutched at me, I took him into my arms. There was no point in trying to get any sense out of him. I knew at once it had been another of his nightmares. With ‘uncle’ Priscus in town, it was hardly surprising. The man gave me bad dreams.
Now he was pushing two, the boy was finally growing bigger. Even so, he remained against my big barbarian chest and arms what that puppy was to him. Whispering comfort, I rocked him gently until he was asleep again. I thought to put him into bed with me and go back to sleep. But it would only have set the nursery maids into another panic when they finally woke. I waited until his breathing was completely regular, then slid out of bed and put on a gown.
The lamps burned low in the airless corridors. Night had brought no let-up in the baking heat, and the slightest movement had me dripping sweat. Maximin was normally light enough to carry, but holding him away from the furnace of my body was a strain that did nothing for my temper.
‘I thought I’d made it clear to lock the nursery at night,’ I hissed at the chief maid when I’d gently kicked some life into her. She opened her mouth to reply. I raised my hand for silence. ‘We’ll discuss this tomorrow,’ I said.
I watched her tuck the child back into his bed and arrange the netting above him, and waited until it was clear he’d sleep without break until morning.
Was that a flash of light?
I went softly over by the window. But it looked into a courtyard. Far
‘If you want relics, I’ll get you an appointment with the local Patriarch. He might be more accommodating than His Holiness of Jerusalem. I believe Alexandria has the head of Saint Mark, both feet of John the Baptist, and three right hands of Saint John the Divine. But there’s no holy piss pot that I know about – not of Jesus Christ, nor of anyone else likely to inspire your men.’
‘My sources are confidential,’ Priscus snapped, ‘but I have it on good authority the relic is where I’ve said.’
I changed the subject. ‘Have you any soldiers with you?’ I asked. An interesting thought had come into my mind. I’d rather Priscus had been stuck in a tent somewhere close by Armenia. Since he wasn’t, I might as well find some use in him.
But he shook his head. He’d come alone and in secrecy.
‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘You are Commander of the East, and I doubt if any of the notables here have been introduced to a military dignitary close to your exalted status. You must allow yourself to be guest of honour at tonight’s dinner. All the big men of Egypt will be there. And I think I can promise the Viceroy for you to sit beside.’
I took up the little bell from my desk and rang it.
‘Ah, Martin,’ I said as the door opened. ‘The Lord Caesar Priscus will be in Alexandria for at least the next few days. Please ask Macarius to make all necessary preparations in the Palace.’
Martin bowed. He let his fingers rasp ever so lightly on the papyrus sheet he was carrying.
‘A productive afternoon with our friend?’ I asked.
Martin nodded.
I ignored Priscus and his unspoken query. ‘That is excellent. My compliments to the pair of you.’
Again to Priscus: ‘When my steward arrives, you will surely do me the honour of letting me accompany you to your suite. If I’m not mistaken, one of your rooms will be the office where Cleopatra killed herself.’
Chapter 6
I was awake. At first, all was silent in the darkness around me. I was alone in bed. That much I knew even as my head cleared. With the Patriarch scowling away through dinner, there had been no dancing girls. And, out of respect, we’d used the older serving boys.
I’d come to bed alone. So why was I awake? Instinctively, I reached under the pillow. Then the tiny voice spoke out of the darkness: ‘Daddy!’
I relaxed and focused on the dim shape. ‘Maximin,’ I said. I reached out and took his hand. As he clutched at me, I took him into my arms. There was no point in trying to get any sense out of him. I knew at once it had been another of his nightmares. With ‘uncle’ Priscus in town, it was hardly surprising. The man gave me bad dreams.
Now he was pushing two, the boy was finally growing bigger. Even so, he remained against my big barbarian chest and arms what that puppy was to him. Whispering comfort, I rocked him gently until he was asleep again. I thought to put him into bed with me and go back to sleep. But it would only have set the nursery maids into another panic when they finally woke. I waited until his breathing was completely regular, then slid out of bed and put on a gown.
The lamps burned low in the airless corridors. Night had brought no let-up in the baking heat, and the slightest movement had me dripping sweat. Maximin was normally light enough to carry, but holding him away from the furnace of my body was a strain that did nothing for my temper.
‘I thought I’d made it clear to lock the nursery at night,’ I hissed at the chief maid when I’d gently kicked some life into her. She opened her mouth to reply. I raised my hand for silence. ‘We’ll discuss this tomorrow,’ I said.
I watched her tuck the child back into his bed and arrange the netting above him, and waited until it was clear he’d sleep without break until morning.
Was that a flash of light?
I went softly over by the window. But it looked into a courtyard. Far
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