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Authors: Julian Stockwin
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gaining audience with His Imperial Majesty. How …?’
‘The usual sanction is to petition for a hearing, but this requires you state your business first with the referendary regulating such access. I do not recommend this course if you desire discretion in the matter of your idea.’
His flabby brow furrowed. ‘The Master of the Offices is the untouchable Peter the Patrician, who would never countenance private access, still less the wooden-headed Marcellus, Count of Excubitors and not a man to cross.’
He reflected for a moment. ‘I fear our greatest obstacle, however, will be the cunning and entirely corrupt Peter Barsymes, whose reptilian hide is as slimy as his manner. You will know him as the Count of the Sacred Largesse – Emperor Justinian’s privy treasurer.’
The ‘our’ triggered a sudden thrill in Nicander.
‘No! Leave this to me. The matter is too delicate for precipitate action. Do prepare your plan, return with it and we shall discuss it together. I will ensure it reaches the ear of the Emperor, do not doubt it.’
Heaving himself upright he leant across, holding their eyes. ‘Meanwhile – trust no one! Speak not to a soul, distrust the very walls. The palace is an evil place, where behind a genial manner every man’s hand is set against his brother, where a father sells his daughter for power and gain, and worse that I cannot speak of it. Go now, we’ll meet again when your plans are ready …’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nicander fought down his exhilaration. From utter despair to the situation now – when anything seemed possible!
‘I really do believe we’re on to something. I reckon at the very least Justinian will reward us handsomely.’
Marius merely grunted in reply.
Nicander allowed his thoughts to roam. Their spoils would probably be vast: this was no less than the saving of a king’s ransom in gold at a time when the Byzantines needed all the wealth they could find to preserve the country’s borders against the tidal surge of barbarians.
It seemed so unreal: this wretched squalor and the talk of gold and empires in which he was a central player.
He glanced at Marius, who now had a brooding expression.
‘I do think that notion of going as monks makes a lot of sense, don’t you? On the way back we can even hide the seeds in a holy relic or some such.’
There was another ill-natured grunt.
Nicander sighed; he was not going to let Marius’s mood spoil the moment.
‘So. A plan. It’s got to be a good one, credible and appealing to an emperor. How do we start?’
Marius sat unblinking, a scowl now darkening his face.
‘We’ve first got to work out a route that takes us past the Goths and otherfoul heathens. And to make us sound credible we have to know in detail what we’re talking about. This will, as well, tell us what’s ahead so we can plan for it, put it in the costings. Where do we get such information? It has to be from impeccable sources and as comprehensive as we can manage. Of course! The library, right here in the city! All the knowledge of Serica and the East … it must have everything.’
There was still no response from Marius and Nicander was beginning to be irritated by his sullen attitude. Did he not see the scale of the task?
‘Be in classical Greek or legal Latin, naturally,’ he went on, ‘Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Only thing is, so much to get through.’
Suddenly Marius got to his feet with a venomous glare and stormed out.
The next morning Nicander was vexed to see Marius’s mood was still there but he decided to let whatever was riding the man pass in its own time.
He took up his satchel. ‘I’ve had a few thoughts about topics to investigate. I don’t have to tell you that I have to be disciplined in this or I’ll not cover the ground in time. So I’ll be off, then. Don’t know how long I’ll be.’
But just before he reached the door Marius thrust himself across it, barring his way. ‘You don’t fucking need
‘The usual sanction is to petition for a hearing, but this requires you state your business first with the referendary regulating such access. I do not recommend this course if you desire discretion in the matter of your idea.’
His flabby brow furrowed. ‘The Master of the Offices is the untouchable Peter the Patrician, who would never countenance private access, still less the wooden-headed Marcellus, Count of Excubitors and not a man to cross.’
He reflected for a moment. ‘I fear our greatest obstacle, however, will be the cunning and entirely corrupt Peter Barsymes, whose reptilian hide is as slimy as his manner. You will know him as the Count of the Sacred Largesse – Emperor Justinian’s privy treasurer.’
The ‘our’ triggered a sudden thrill in Nicander.
‘No! Leave this to me. The matter is too delicate for precipitate action. Do prepare your plan, return with it and we shall discuss it together. I will ensure it reaches the ear of the Emperor, do not doubt it.’
Heaving himself upright he leant across, holding their eyes. ‘Meanwhile – trust no one! Speak not to a soul, distrust the very walls. The palace is an evil place, where behind a genial manner every man’s hand is set against his brother, where a father sells his daughter for power and gain, and worse that I cannot speak of it. Go now, we’ll meet again when your plans are ready …’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nicander fought down his exhilaration. From utter despair to the situation now – when anything seemed possible!
‘I really do believe we’re on to something. I reckon at the very least Justinian will reward us handsomely.’
Marius merely grunted in reply.
Nicander allowed his thoughts to roam. Their spoils would probably be vast: this was no less than the saving of a king’s ransom in gold at a time when the Byzantines needed all the wealth they could find to preserve the country’s borders against the tidal surge of barbarians.
It seemed so unreal: this wretched squalor and the talk of gold and empires in which he was a central player.
He glanced at Marius, who now had a brooding expression.
‘I do think that notion of going as monks makes a lot of sense, don’t you? On the way back we can even hide the seeds in a holy relic or some such.’
There was another ill-natured grunt.
Nicander sighed; he was not going to let Marius’s mood spoil the moment.
‘So. A plan. It’s got to be a good one, credible and appealing to an emperor. How do we start?’
Marius sat unblinking, a scowl now darkening his face.
‘We’ve first got to work out a route that takes us past the Goths and otherfoul heathens. And to make us sound credible we have to know in detail what we’re talking about. This will, as well, tell us what’s ahead so we can plan for it, put it in the costings. Where do we get such information? It has to be from impeccable sources and as comprehensive as we can manage. Of course! The library, right here in the city! All the knowledge of Serica and the East … it must have everything.’
There was still no response from Marius and Nicander was beginning to be irritated by his sullen attitude. Did he not see the scale of the task?
‘Be in classical Greek or legal Latin, naturally,’ he went on, ‘Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Only thing is, so much to get through.’
Suddenly Marius got to his feet with a venomous glare and stormed out.
The next morning Nicander was vexed to see Marius’s mood was still there but he decided to let whatever was riding the man pass in its own time.
He took up his satchel. ‘I’ve had a few thoughts about topics to investigate. I don’t have to tell you that I have to be disciplined in this or I’ll not cover the ground in time. So I’ll be off, then. Don’t know how long I’ll be.’
But just before he reached the door Marius thrust himself across it, barring his way. ‘You don’t fucking need
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