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longer. Sometimes he would sit mumbling to himself, or begin chewing rhythmically though there was no food in his mouth. On other occasions he would suddenly start to wander about the palace in a state of confusion until, abruptly, he came to his senses and looked about him trying to identify where he stood. The duty guardsmen escorted him as best they could, walking behind the dazed Basileus while someone sent hastily for a palace physician. If there was an encounter with someone who did not know about the emperor's state of health, then the guardsmen had orders to form a circle around the Basileus and shield him from view. The handful of doctors who were privy to Michael's condition tried doses of opium and rose oil, and induced him to drink muddy concoctions of earth gathered in their Holy Land and dissolved in holy water from a sacred well in a church at Pege just outside the city walls. But the emperor's behaviour did not return to normal. Rather, it grew ever more extreme and unpredictable.
    By contrast, as this crisis gradually developed, my own troubles seemed to recede. Having successfully obeyed the Orphanotrophus's instructions in dealing with Harald and his men, I calculated that John would keep me as a go-between as long as Harald proved loyal. Pelagia encouraged me in this thinking. I was spending more and more time with her, and in the evenings when off duty I would go to dine at her apartment - she always brought back fresh delicacies from the market where she kept her bread stall — and we would sit and chat together, ostensibly to practise my Greek but more and more because I found her company to be a pleasant change from regimental life and because I valued her shrewd commentary on the power play that I was observing in the palace.
    'As long as you might prove useful to the Orphanotrophus,' she said, 'you should be safe. He's got much to worry him now that his brother is showing signs of ill health.'
    'So news of the emperor's condition has leaked out?'
    'Naturally,' she replied. 'There's not much that goes on in the palace that doesn't eventually become gossip in the marketplace. There are too many people employed in the palace for there to be secrets. Incidentally,' she added, 'your bearded northern friends who went off to Dyrrachium with their ships must be doing well. That cheese I served with the first course this evening comes from Italy, and until recently it was almost impossible to get. The Italian cheese-makers were reluctant to send their produce when so many of the merchant vessels were falling into the hands of the Arab pirates. Now the cheese has reappeared in the market. That's a good sign.'
    I remembered our conversation when I received my next summons from the Orphanotrophus. This time I found he was not alone. The fleet admiral, the drungarios, was in his office, as well as a naval kentarchos, by coincidence the same man who had turned Harald and myself off his dromon. Both men looked surprised and resentful that I had been called to the meeting, and I made sure I stood respectfully, eyes fixed once again on the golden halo of the icon, but listening with close attention to what the Orphanotrophus had to say.
    'Guardsman, I've received an unusual request from war captain Araltes, now on anti-piracy patrol. He wants you to accompany the next pay shipment for our army in Italy.'
    'As your excellency orders,' I answered crisply.
    'It is not that straightforward,' said the Orphanotrophus, 'otherwise I would not have summoned you in person. This shipment could be a little different from usual. Araltes — or Harald as you told me your people call him — has been very effective. His men have destroyed several pirate bases and captured or sunk a number of the Saracen vessels, but not all of them. One particularly dangerous vessel remains at large. Araltes reports that the vessel's base is in Sicily and therefore beyond the operational range of his monocylon. The drungarios here agrees with this