A Flame in Byzantium

If you know of such a man, or men, I am completely in your debt for bringing us together. You have always been a true friend to me, and never more than now when you have been at pains to aid me during this difficult time in my life. Be certain that if I am ever in a position to help you in any way that you may need it, you have only to ask and the thing is yours.



Once you have read this, I request that you return it to me or destroy it, for there are those who would seek reward from my uncle by disclosing the contents to him. That would not serve you or me any good, and so it is wisest to take care now that this does not fall into the wrong hands.



I know that your good offices will bring me the success I seek, and your kind words will do everything to make certain that no problems mar the resolution of my request. If you require anything more of me in this regard, send your body slave with instructions and I will provide you with more information, though I hope what I have set down



here will indicate my preferences clearly enough. I do not want to be so stringent that it becomes impossible to find what I require.



In all cordial duty and admiration,



Your friend



Eugenia



6



Rain had just started to fall when Simones left the house of Belisarius bound for the palace of the Emperor Justinian, three messages clasped in his enormous hand. He had wrapped his pallium around his shoulders and neck as well as over his head so that he would not become drenched during the short walk to the palace.



As he neared the palace, Simones took out his seal of authorization which would provide him admittance without the complicated process of verifying his identity and his owner. He had endured those procedures before, but that had been years ago and he was no longer willing to take the time required to satisfy the exhaustive demands of the court when presentation of a simple embossed piece of leather would give him the access he desired. He was prepared to deal with the men on duty as directly as they would permit.



Sure enough, the Captain of the Guard, the square-bodied Vlamos, was the one who greeted Simones with a terse order and the full weight of his authority. "Where are your permissions, slave?"



Simones held out the leather. "Heiliah eithelfei!" he cursed mildly, "what happens here that no one remembers Simones of Belisarius' household? Is my master some unknown dog from the country who is tolerated because of his name? Is my master a merchant who seeks to buy favor? Is my master a foreigner who is known to be a barbarian? Is he not the Emperor's finest General, the man who has defeated Totila more than once and who did so much to bring order in Africa?"



"All right, all right," said Vlamos. "You have made your point, Simones. If you seek an audience with the Emperor, you may be here for a while."



"What sort of slave would I be to think such things? You see that I bear messages which I have been ordered to hand myself to the Court Censor, who in turn will evaluate them and tend to them as he sees fit. I am not one who forgets his place nor does my master expect me to behave so improperly." He drew himself up to his considerable height in his dudgeon.



"Never mind," sighed the Captain of the Guard. "Pass and perform your errand. Be certain that you need not come again this day, or we will have to regard the formalities more stringently." He signaled his men to open the gate.



Simones straightened his clothes and strode forward. Because he had been castrated at age seventeen, he did not have much of the look of a eunuch, and his voice was as deep as any man's. He had almost no beard, but there were others who were completely whole who had light beards as well. Since he was almost a head taller than most men, he was regarded with respect by those around him; he was aware of this and used it.



One of the men-at-arms followed after Simones, keeping pace with him, his expression forbidding in its blank-ness. There were other similar escorts with other visitors in the palace, as much to guide their charges as to guard them.



The palace of the Emperor Justinian was a maze of courtyards and corridors, wings and suites, each with its own purpose, with almost a third of the whole in various stages of construction, for Justinian was known to have a passion for building. The distant sound of saws and hammering were as familiar here as the sound of prayer and chanting.



When Simones reached the group of rooms assigned to the Court Censor, he announced himself to the Egyptian slave who sat at a long, narrow table copying texts. "I am to see Panaigios," he told the Egyptian.



"He will be here presently," the Egyptian said, irritated at having his task interrupted.



"I am Simones, and my master is the General Belisari-us," he informed the slave. "Panaigios has said that he must speak with me and I do not think he would want to be ignorant of my arrival."



Reluctantly the Egyptian set his work aside. "Very well. I will inform him that you are here and return with his instruction." He made a nod that might have been intended to be polite but might also have been nothing but a last look at his copying.



Simones did not have long to wait. The Egyptian was back almost at once, and with him came Panaigios, the senior secretary of the Court Censor, and the highest ranking official that Simones, being a slave, could address directly. "I am Simones," he said to Panaigios.



"Yes; I have looked forward to this meeting." Panaigios was one of those men who are so ordinary they are almost invisible. His hair, while dark enough, was neither black nor brown and the slight wave was like that of hundreds of others. His height was average, his skin was medium olive, his eyes were ordinary brown. His pallium was good quality but simple and the slight embroidery was similar to what most other freemen wore.



"And I; it is an honor to be called to aid the Emperor in these times." Simones made a reverence as he spoke, to show his devotion to Justinian.



"Your master has caused the Emperor some concern," said Panaigios. "We must discuss it." He indicated a smaller room, and added, "We ought to be more private."



"Yes," agreed Simones as he followed Panaigios into the antechamber. He took the chair offered to him and sat very straight while Panaigios adjusted his cushions. "Hag-ios Vasilos," he swore, pulling at his leather slipper. "There is a pebble under my heel and it has nearly driven me mad. If you do not object…" He loosened the leather bindings and drew the shoe off his foot. A tiny stone fell to the floor. "To think that so little a thing could do so much hurt."



"It is often the little things that do," said Simones, pleased at the opening he had been provided. "A word here or there, a ring filled with less powder than would cover a thumbnail, and yet they are more deadly than a run-away horse."



"Sadly, you are right," said Panaigios. "Which is what has given this office so much to do."



"And why you wanted to speak to me," Simones pressed.



"And wished that it were not necessary," said Panaigios. "It saddens me to think that so fine and honorable a man as your master should have fallen in with those who plot against the Emperor."



Simones did not have to pretend to be shocked. Of all the things he had anticipated, this was the least likely. "My master?" he repeated. He had assumed that Antonina had been using her position of friendship with the Empress Theodora to gain advantages for her friends, and that the Court Censor wanted it stopped. To learn now that it was Belisarius who had attracted the attention and concern of the Censor astonished him.



"You see how insidious it is; you, his slave, have suspected nothing." Now that he had finished brushing the sole of his foot, Panaigios was once again donning his shoe.



"True. I believe there is nothing to suspect." It was daring to contradict a Court Censor, but Simones was willing to risk it—to be too quickly convinced would give rise to many questions that might not be easily or pleasantly answered—in the hope that he might discover what the Censor believed.



"That is certainly what the appearances would have you think but from what has been revealed, this is deception. There are men who have shown us that this outward loyalty and honor are nothing more than a mask worn to suit the occasion." Panaigios adjusted the drape of his pallium and settled himself more properly in the chair.



"I have never thought that my master was less than wholly devoted to the Emperor and his work," said Simones with more honesty than he usually permitted himself to show.



"That is the opinion of many, and if it were not for the devotion of others, it is what everyone would think. But certain loyal men have devoted themselves to discover what lies behind these protestations of dedication, and have discovered that there are plots to take power. No one is more active in this infamy than your master, and this is surely the most secret deception ever to be revealed. In all outward aspects this Belisarius would appear to be the most worthy of Generals, the most laudable of men. His success in this deception is astonishing." Panaigios had taken one of the folds of his pallium in his hands and was running his fingers over the embroidery.



"What has convinced you?" Simones asked, doing his best to seem uncertain.



"Many things. First has been his lack of triumphs in Italy. True, he has consistently claimed that the lack of men and supplies has hindered him, and there may be a degree of truth in this. But he has taken an inconvenience and claimed that it was a major impediment so that he could strengthen his position with the army and with the Emperor. This insistence that he must have more men and more supplies covers his determination to use the Emperor's-goodwill to become above any suspicion so that he could then strike and do so with complete impunity."

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