same numbers. Say a thousand or so?’
‘Do you know what you’ve just said?’
‘I suppose if we have to go around the Persians then it’ll add at least another month – or so. A tight expedition, and I’ll agree the numbers might be a bit thin for what we’re thinking.’
‘Marius – you’ve just put paid to the whole thing!’
‘Wha—?’
‘Where are we finding the money for that? We can’t afford a couple of serving slaves, let alone half an army!’
Marius replied huffily, ‘Those Huns are mad bastards – I should know – where we’re going we’ll surely need a hell of a stout force to keep ’em off our backs.’
‘Can we find our way around them?’
‘No. Maybe we can dodge the Persians for a while but then we have to go east – this means right through the buggers.’
‘So what this is now saying is we’ll need to be funded, get some sort of investment capital into our venture.’
‘Right, so we do that.’
‘Heaven give me patience. Marius – if an investor puts more money into this than we can, he gets control. And profits in proportion. We take all the hard stuff, he sits back and piles it up.’ He shook his head. ‘Come to think of it, what’s to stop the bastard liking the plan and then ditching us entirely for his own operation?’
‘So no money man can be trusted!’ Marius paused. ‘But there may be a better way.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Who’s to get the biggest kick out of what we’re doing? Remember what I said about all that gold – it’s the Emperor! Six tons of it a year going out of the country – if we can stop that, he’ll be so happy he’ll put up statues to us both!’
‘State funding. I can see how it’ll work. In return for the subvention we undertake a perpetual contract to supply. On exclusive terms, naturally.’
Marius rubbed his hands. ‘Yes, that. Get him to pay!’ He stood up impatiently. ‘Hey, now – what are we waiting for? Let’s move!’
Nicander’s mind raced. It was too easy …
‘Marius. Sit down. Spare a minute to consider what we’re thinking of. We two, not quite in the front rank of the citizens of the greatest city in the world, do knock on that great bronze gate of the Grand Palace and demand to see His Top Highness, the Emperor of Byzantium, Justinian, because we’ve a good idea we want to share with him, and him alone.’
A fleeting memory of the vision at the hippodrome came. He shivered – their impertinence verged on the sacrilegious and the palace was a byword for intrigue and betrayal. To enter without a friend or guide, into that labyrinth … ‘On second thoughts don’t think that’s such a good move. Perhaps we …’
‘We get someone to speak for us!’
‘And lose our idea? I don’t think so.’
‘All right, then we’ve got to go in ourselves, for fuck’s sake!’
‘Who do we see first? Come on, just who do you know in the Grand Palace has the ear of the Emperor? Will not let on to others, will—’
‘So we find a bastard who knows!’
‘Who?’ But even as he spoke, it came to him. ‘I supply Sarmatian grapes to that villain Messalia. And he’s got one very picky customer out in the country.’
‘So?’
‘John the Cappadocian!’
‘Who?’
‘Count of the Sacred Largesse – or was.’
‘What’s the point of this, Greek?’
‘Well, I got it all from Messalia, the gossip. John the Cappadocian’s a legend – the most grasping and cruel tax collector of all time. Spared none, high or low, however hard they squealed. Justinian relied on him to pay for his wars and he didn’t fail him. It’s said he handed over fourteen times his own weight in gold every year, rain or shine.
‘For years he had the top job at the treasury – and power and riches – until he fell foul of Empress Theodora, who plotted to bring him down. To please her, Justinian stripped him of his wealth and banished him. After she died he let him back, but to live out of town, poor and in
‘Do you know what you’ve just said?’
‘I suppose if we have to go around the Persians then it’ll add at least another month – or so. A tight expedition, and I’ll agree the numbers might be a bit thin for what we’re thinking.’
‘Marius – you’ve just put paid to the whole thing!’
‘Wha—?’
‘Where are we finding the money for that? We can’t afford a couple of serving slaves, let alone half an army!’
Marius replied huffily, ‘Those Huns are mad bastards – I should know – where we’re going we’ll surely need a hell of a stout force to keep ’em off our backs.’
‘Can we find our way around them?’
‘No. Maybe we can dodge the Persians for a while but then we have to go east – this means right through the buggers.’
‘So what this is now saying is we’ll need to be funded, get some sort of investment capital into our venture.’
‘Right, so we do that.’
‘Heaven give me patience. Marius – if an investor puts more money into this than we can, he gets control. And profits in proportion. We take all the hard stuff, he sits back and piles it up.’ He shook his head. ‘Come to think of it, what’s to stop the bastard liking the plan and then ditching us entirely for his own operation?’
‘So no money man can be trusted!’ Marius paused. ‘But there may be a better way.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Who’s to get the biggest kick out of what we’re doing? Remember what I said about all that gold – it’s the Emperor! Six tons of it a year going out of the country – if we can stop that, he’ll be so happy he’ll put up statues to us both!’
‘State funding. I can see how it’ll work. In return for the subvention we undertake a perpetual contract to supply. On exclusive terms, naturally.’
Marius rubbed his hands. ‘Yes, that. Get him to pay!’ He stood up impatiently. ‘Hey, now – what are we waiting for? Let’s move!’
Nicander’s mind raced. It was too easy …
‘Marius. Sit down. Spare a minute to consider what we’re thinking of. We two, not quite in the front rank of the citizens of the greatest city in the world, do knock on that great bronze gate of the Grand Palace and demand to see His Top Highness, the Emperor of Byzantium, Justinian, because we’ve a good idea we want to share with him, and him alone.’
A fleeting memory of the vision at the hippodrome came. He shivered – their impertinence verged on the sacrilegious and the palace was a byword for intrigue and betrayal. To enter without a friend or guide, into that labyrinth … ‘On second thoughts don’t think that’s such a good move. Perhaps we …’
‘We get someone to speak for us!’
‘And lose our idea? I don’t think so.’
‘All right, then we’ve got to go in ourselves, for fuck’s sake!’
‘Who do we see first? Come on, just who do you know in the Grand Palace has the ear of the Emperor? Will not let on to others, will—’
‘So we find a bastard who knows!’
‘Who?’ But even as he spoke, it came to him. ‘I supply Sarmatian grapes to that villain Messalia. And he’s got one very picky customer out in the country.’
‘So?’
‘John the Cappadocian!’
‘Who?’
‘Count of the Sacred Largesse – or was.’
‘What’s the point of this, Greek?’
‘Well, I got it all from Messalia, the gossip. John the Cappadocian’s a legend – the most grasping and cruel tax collector of all time. Spared none, high or low, however hard they squealed. Justinian relied on him to pay for his wars and he didn’t fail him. It’s said he handed over fourteen times his own weight in gold every year, rain or shine.
‘For years he had the top job at the treasury – and power and riches – until he fell foul of Empress Theodora, who plotted to bring him down. To please her, Justinian stripped him of his wealth and banished him. After she died he let him back, but to live out of town, poor and in
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