The Walls of Byzantium by James Heneage Page A

sentence was being passed.
    ‘Luke Magoris, we find you guilty of the grossest neglect of your duty towards ourself and our children.’
    Guilty? Guilty of what?
    ‘We find that you recklessly allowed my son to come into contact with an animal likely to do him harm and then deliberately sought to protect yourself from the consequences by exposing him to further danger.’
    What am I hearing?
    ‘Your punishment will be as follows. It has always been the tradition that son follow father into my Varangian Guard, with all the privilege and status that goes with it. So it has been for generations. You, however, will not be permitted to do so. Neither I nor my son who, by the grace of God, will follow me, can count on your commitment to protect our persons.’
    Luke’s world crumbled around him. He felt faint. He heard his father gasp.
    But the Archon was not finished. ‘However, in view of your undoubted skill with horses, you will be permitted to continue as a groom in our household. Never again, though, will you ride out with any member of my family.’ The Archon pickedup some papers resting on the table beside him and began to read. ‘You may go,’ he said.
    But Luke couldn’t move. He felt his father prod him from behind. The Archon looked up.
    ‘Leave!’
    Luke found his voice, forcing himself to keep it steady. ‘What about the horse?’
    ‘The horse? What do I care about the horse? It almost killed my son!’ shouted Mamonas.
    ‘It was frightened. It cannot be blamed.’
    His father took his arm. ‘Enough, Luke,’ he said quietly. ‘This will not help.’
    ‘It is the best horse you will ever own,’ Luke went on, turning to face the Archon as his father tried to guide him from the room. ‘And I can tame it.’
    ‘You,’ hissed the Archon, ‘will leave now, unless you wish to be whipped. Magoris, take him away.’
    Joseph felt the tension in Luke’s arm. ‘Luke …’ he whispered.
    Luke was still glaring at the Archon, rigid with fury. Then he blinked twice, glanced at Zoe and turned. His father led him from the room.
    Pavlos Mamonas watched the door close behind them. Then he turned to the other Varangians. ‘You may all leave!’ he barked. ‘And not just the room, leave the palace! I can’t bear to have you all sulking around me. The boy deserved his fate.’
    When they had gone, he looked up at Zoe, who was standing apart, watching him. ‘Was that what really happened?’ he asked eventually.
    ‘More or less,’ she murmured. ‘Anyway, you’ve done the right thing.’
    The Archon was silent for a while, wondering whether there was perhaps more to this. He knew his daughter better than himself. She was himself. Like him, she wanted everything in the world, especially those things she couldn’t have. She’d grown up with Luke yet now she’d condemned him. Was there something more to this?
    ‘Will you mind him no longer riding out with you?’ he asked quietly.
    ‘No, Father,’ she replied. ‘He was becoming tiresome. You did right to punish him.’
    Pavlos studied his daughter. He knew that her fierce ambition had found its outlet in reckless promiscuity and a refusal to submit in marriage to any man. What a pity she would not inherit the Mamonas empire.
    ‘What about the horse?’ he asked.
    She paused. ‘He’s probably right about that at least,’ she replied. ‘It’s a magnificent beast and will fetch a high price. You should let him tame it. It’s worth nothing to us dead.’
    Her father nodded absently. ‘They both need taming. Perhaps one will tame the other.’
    Zoe laughed shortly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He should be tamed.’ She paused and looked down at her hands. ‘And Damian? He’ll not be able to travel now.’
    Damian was due to set off on a year of visits to the far-flung business interests of the Mamonas family. Now he couldn’t walk.
    Her father eyed her speculatively. ‘What would you suggest, Zoe?’
    ‘Send me. I’m more than competent.’
    Pavlos