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such a man. It is, though, something one considers." She cocked her head,
still studying him. '"The main reason'? What of your young son? What of the
family you've made since you came to Videssos? At the banquet you seemed well
content with your lady."
Scaurus bit his lip. It was chastening to hear his own thoughts come back at
him from the princess' mouth. "And you claimed to have trouble reading me!" he
said, embarrassed out of indirection.
For the first time Alypia smiled. She made as if to put her hand on his arm,
but stopped, remembering better than he where they were. She said quietly,
"Were those thoughts not there to read, the, ah, situation " Her mockery of
the tribune's earlier pause was gentle. " Would never have arisen."
The path divided. "We go different ways now, I think," she said, and turned
toward the flowering cherries that concealed the imperial residence.
"Aye, for a while," Marcus answered, but only to himself.
"Look what Gavras gives me to work with!" Taron Leimmokheir shouted. "Why
didn't he tell me to go hang myself from a yardarm while I was about it?" He
answered his own question, "He thought my weight'd break it, and he was
right!" He looked disgustedly about the Neorhesian harbor.
The capital's great northern anchorage was not a part of the city Scaurus knew
well. The Romans had patrolled near the harbor of Kontoskalion, on Videssos'
south-facing coast, and had also embarked on campaign against the Yezda from
there. But Kontoskalion was a toy port next to the Neorhesian harbor, named
for the long-dead city prefect who had supervised its building.
There were ships aplenty at the docks jutting out into the Videssian Sea, a
veritable forest of masts. But all too many of them belonged to fat, sluggish
trading ships and tiny fishing craft like the one Marcus had sailed on when
Thorisin's forces sneaked over the Cattle-Crossing. These, by now, rode high
in the water. Their cargoes long since unloaded, they were trapped in Videssos
by Elissaios Bouraphos outside. As had been only proper then Bouraphos had
taken the heart of the Empire's war fleet when he sailed for Pityos and kept
it when he joined Onomagoulos in rebellion.
Leimmokheir had precious little left: ten or so triremes, and perhaps a dozen
smaller two-banked ships like the ones the tribune knew as Libumians. He was
outnumbered almost three to one, and Bouraphos also had the better captains
and crews.
"What's to do?" Marcus asked, worried the drungarios thought the task beyond
him. After his outburst, Leimmokheir was staring out to sea, not at the choppy
little waves dancing inside the breakwater, but beyond, to the vast sweep of
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empty horizon.
The admiral did not seem to hear him for a moment; he slowly came back to
himself. "Hmm? Phos' light, I truly don't know, left here with the lees to
drink. Wait and watch for a bit, I expect, until I understand how things have
gone since I was taken off the board. I've come back facing a new direction,
and everything looks strange."
In the Videssian board game, captured pieces could be used against their
original owners and change sides several times in the course of a game. It
was, Scaurus thought, a game very much in its makers' image.
Seeing the Roman troubled by his answer, Leimmokheir slapped him on the
shoulder. "Never lose hope," he said seriously. "The Namdaleni are heretics
who imperil their souls with their belief, but they have the right of that. No
matter how bad the storm looks, it has to end sometime. Skotos lays despair
before men as a snare."
He was the living proof of his own philosophy, Scaurus thought; his
imprisonment had dropped from him as if it had never been. But the tribune
noted he had still not answered the question.
The last clear notes of the pandoura faded inside the Roman barracks.
Applause, a storm of it, followed swiftly. Senpat Sviodo laid aside his
stringed instrument, a smile of pleasure on his handsome, swarthy face. He
lifted a mug of wine in salute to his audience.
"That was marvelous," Helvis said. "You made me see the mountains of
Vaspurakan plain as if they stood before me.
Phos gave you a great gift. Were you not a soldier, your music would soon make
you rich."
"Curious you should say that,", he answered sheepishly. "Back in my teens I
thought about running off with a troupe of strummers who were playing at my
father's holding."
"Why didn't you?"
"He found out and stropped his belt on my backside. He had the right of it,
Phos rest him. I was needed there; even then, the Yezda were thick as tax
collectors round a man who's dug up treasure. And had I gone, look what I
would have missed." He slid his arm round Nevrat beside him. The bright
ribbons streaming from his three-peaked Vaspurakaner cap tickled her neck; she
brushed them away as she snuggled closer to her husband.
Marcus sipped from his own wine cup. He had nearly forgotten what good company
the two young westerners made, not just for Senpat's music but for the gusto
and good cheer with which he indeed, both of them faced life. And they were so
obviously pleased with each other as to make every couple around them happier
simply by their presence.
"Where is your friend with the mustaches like melted bronze?" Nevrat asked the
tribune. "He has a fine voice. I was hoping to hear him sing with Senpat
tonight, even if Videssian songs are the only ones they both understand."
" 'Little bird with a yellow bill "' Gaius Philippus began, his baritone
raucous. Nevrat winced and threw a walnut at him. Ever alert, he caught it out
of the air, then cracked it with the pommel of his dagger.
The distraction did not make her forget her question. She quirked an eyebrow
at Scaurus. He said lamely. "There was some business or other he said he had
to attend to; I don't know just what." But I can make a fair guess, he
thought.
Nevrat's other eyebrow went up when she saw him hesitate. Unlike most
Videssian women, she did not pluck them to make them finer, but they did
nothing to mar her strongfeatured beauty.
In this case, Marcus was immune to such blandishments. He wished he had no
part of Viridovix' secret and would not spread it further.
Nevrat turned to Helvis. "You're a big girl, dear. You should do more than
pick at your food."
Said in a different tone, the words could have rankled, but Nevrat was
obviously concerned. Helvis' answering smile was a trifle wan. "There'djust be
more for me to give back tomorrow morning."
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Nevrat looked blank for a moment, then hugged her. "Congratulations," Senpat
said, pumping Marcus' hand. "What is it, the thought of going west that makes [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]