Aries Fire (36 page)

“Emperor may I have some water?” asked Leo, clearing his throat.

“Of course of course, your Grace. Yes, I’ll fetch it for you myself,” he said.

The Emperor hurried to the long, narrow marble, serving table.  He filled a silver goblet and served Leo without spilling a drop. Leo nodded his head with thanks.  Tilting the goblet, he gulped the water envisioning it blessed by God. Cyril thought Leo’s demeanor peculiar. Aetius kept on his guard.

Attila, who sat with his hands on his knees, observed each of the men carefully. Attila detected deceit upon seeing his brother appear without Ruga. He glanced at each man’s countenance for signs of guilt. His eyes settled on Leo with intrigue.

“I will bring Ruga,” he said suddenly and stood.

“Yes, yes, of course,” said the Emperor and waived his hand toward the door.

 Attila vanished before the Emperor finished his sentence. Aetius watched him leave then approached Leo and stood by his side.  Leo nodded once with confidence.

Cyril crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat feeling shrewd. Later, he would bring Seira to Leo as a surprise, to gain favor.

Attila arrived at Ruga’s door, knocked and then opened it without waiting for a reply.  He suspected Ruga was dead. It would not have occurred to Bleda that the great khan would not have entered the negotiations unescorted.

Attila looked at his uncle with his yellow tinged skin and eyed the room briefly.  Swift steps brought Attila to the balcony.  The night had taken evidence of violence, if there had been any at all.  He approached his uncle and observed him closely.

The cup that was stuck to his rigid, fat fingers was empty. Attila sniffed it, then licked his forefinger and swiped it across the bottom of the cup and touched it to his tongue. He quickly spat onto the floor.  The faintest trace of dried blood and yellow tinged spittle on Ruga’s chin gave Attila his answer.  Ruga had been poisoned. Aetius’ face came into Attila’s thoughts.

Attila instantly analyzed the threat to Seira. He suspected Aetius would attempt to kidnap Seira to use her in a Hun and Roman barter and trade; if Bleda did not get to her first.  For now Aetius was confined to the delegation and Attila knew Aetius liked to work alone. Seira was out of Aetius’ reach for now.  Attila’s thoughts quickly turned to his brother. Bleda would attempt to capture Seira and deliver her to the Bishop.  Attila knew Seira would leave with Alexander, of this he was assured.

Bleda’s guards, Tarvel and Umar, loyal as they were to Attila, would warn Bleda first of any treachery. Attila acted with readiness. His black shadow sped through the palace toward the ship. Already standing at the main palace gates were Tarvel and Umar, arms raised in tumult, calling out Attila’s name.

Attila nodded to the palace guards and pulled the men aside. Hard, stinging rain fell on the Huns. They spoke simultaneously with gruff voices of being drugged and of Alexander’s escape. Attila let the men talk, reassuring them. As he left them and headed back to the great hall, he formulated his plan.

Reentering the great hall all eyes turned toward Attila. Aetius stared at him, waiting.

“What news of your uncle?” asked the Emperor.

“Khan Ruga rests. He gives Attila first rite for protocol speech,” Attila said, deftly observant.

There was a moment of silence in the room.  All the delegates were still.  From the corner of his eye, Attila noticed Cyril, twisting his garnet ring around his finger.

“But you are dripping wet, Ulus Attila. Come and sit by the fire,” said Cyril.

“A lake forms drop by drop,” said Attila to Cyril.

But who will drown first? Cyril wondered scrupulously unaware of the meaning of the proverb as Attila turned to Leo, then looked at Aetius.

“Yes Attila, it is a truth you speak. Strength grows when what was once small becomes the mighty,” Aetius bowed.

Bleda looked at Attila and grunted. He assumed his uncle still punished him for yesterday’s outburst by placing Attila in command. Bleda sat down away from the group of men. His rotted yellow teeth showed as he bit into an apple, pieces falling to the floor.  Aetius glanced at Leo and sat beside him as he kept a curious eye on Attila.

What game is this?

“What are the terms?” Attila asked without warning.

Theodosius ll looked at the Roman delegates and nodded as Bleda stood to intimidate the Emperor.

“After much discussion we have agreed to pay the 660 pounds of gold,” said the Emperor. “It is being delivered to your ship,” he said. The Emperor’s pride refused to call payment a ‘tribute’ as he made every effort not to look at Bleda.

Bleda nodded arrogantly.  Attila’s expression was calm as he looked at the Emperor.

“And,” he continued, “We shall release the Hun prisoners. The papers have been drawn for your mark.”

No one disputed. No one commented. The room echoed the sound of falling rain as a dank chill swept across the floor.

After a few moments the Emperor rang a small bell and a servant arrived with a tray of wine. His footsteps scuffed the floor as he walked toward each delegate offering cups of drink.  Bleda approached Attila and they spoke brusquely in Hunnish. Bleda sporadically glanced at Cyril as he and his brother ruminated over the proposed plan.

The Emperor motioned for his servant to place the remaining tray on the marble table, spoke briefly to the servant, then waved him away.  Before leaving, the servant reached for a pole with an attached hook and closed the shutters. Wind howled slightly through the tapping boards.

Cyril watched Bleda and sipped his wine. The bastard girl would make up for the latest Hun swindle. He knew he would need to reenter the vault for more gold.

Bleda grew impatient for the day to end. He needed to finish his business and leave the palace now that they had their gold.

This negotiation marked the beginning of the battle that would last many more years. Attila had used the strike to his advantage. He assumed power without fanfare and without implicating Ruga’s assassins.

Aetius saw Attila’s brilliant strategy and bowed his head slightly to Attila, conceding the loss of his attack.

Leo understood it, too and sighed as he put his cup down. He hated defeat of any sort.

The unforeseen shift of power released a weight from the unwitting Emperor. Things moved smoother and quicker than he had anticipated.

“Before we discuss the revision of military protocol, let us retire for a meal. I have arranged for food to be brought to your private rooms. We shall convene again in, shall we say two hours?” said the Emperor.

The delegates agreed to the break.

“I need to face him to talk with him. I have to be sure,” Seira said.

“No. Seira it’s too dangerous. You’ve managed to outrun the reach of this man thus far. I’ll not allow you to…”

“Not ALLOW me? You assume too much Alexander. I am NOT seventeen any longer,” she said.  “No man shall rule my destiny!”

“No. Of course not,” he said, appeasing her as he rubbed her arms. There was so much he still did not know about how she had matured.

She felt irrational and wanted to slap him, knowing that it has ever only been men who had dictated her every move.

“Alexander, I am convinced he is my father.”

“Who murdered your mother,” Alexander pointed out.

“We don’t know that he had anything to do with it. Cyril murdered my mother,” she said.

“My dear,” Eudocia said. “The bishop is the Deacon’s instrument.”

Seira sat down exasperated, clutching her head.

“But I need to know why,” she said.

“Why? Because you stand in his way of sainthood, that’s why,” Alexander said with mild annoyance.

“I need to hear it from HIM!” she said.

Alexander looked at Eudocia. He moved closer to Seira and put his arm around her shoulder.

“Then I shall take you to him.”

“No. Attila takes Rhetman.”

Alexander jerked upward, arms taut.

Eudocia whirled around dumbfounded, almost falling backward. “How in the name of Jupiter did you get in here?” Asked the Empress.

Seira held back a laugh.

“The stone will not move from its place unless head is put to head,” Attila said and looked at all of them.

“Pray tell,” began Eudocia.

“He means, hard tasks are accomplished by collaboration,” said Alexander.

Attila looked at Alexander with his head cocked to one side. He nodded to him with respect. Seira rose and placed her hand in Alexander’s hand. Attila approved of Alexander and she smiled.

“He knows,” said Cyril.

“Of course he knows,” Leo said with disdain.

Cyril frowned.

“Why hasn’t he alerted his fleet?”

Aetius stood on the Deacon’s balcony and peered out to sea at the Hun ship.  He scanned the density of the clouds and doubted any ballista firing could be seen clearly at this range.

“Because Bishop, he is now the khan of the Western Empire. Bleda, if he is the wiser, now rules the East without his uncle.  Either can sack this city at any time. It seems…” said Aetius.

“Attila needs something. He could have accused us of murder already,” interrupted Leo. “He needs something from us and is playing the game well. He is a shrewd leader indeed,” Leo said.

“Perhaps he wishes to renegotiate Foederati terms without his brother’s knowledge,” said Cyril.

“Perhaps,” Leo replied. “Aetius, what news of Attila’s woman?”

“She has conveniently disappeared, your Grace.”

Cyril smiled and assumed Bleda acted quickly. 

“Disappea…” Leo began and suddenly closed his eyes, frowning. He opened his eyes. The face of the woman he had seen with the Empress haunted him.

“Eventually, Ruga will be found,” Cyril said.

“Yes. He will be found dead in his bed. It will be seen as a timely end,” Leo said slowly. “And we shall leave here alive with new terms from the Huns. All of war does not demand payment in advance. There will be battles and scars. But Divine timing wins at all costs, gentlemen.”

There was a knock at the door.

“General?” Leo motioned to Aetius.

Aetius approached the door with a small dagger concealed in his hand. He opened the door and was handed a scroll. He turned and conveyed it to Leo.

“A message for you, from the Empress.”

Leo slid his finger beneath the seal and snapped the wax to open the letter.

“Ah, my friends I am called to the Library. The Empress has copies of a most exciting testament from St. Patrick.”

Cyril realized he would have to wait until after the negotiations concluded before revealing his gift of Seira to Leo. Soon, he would revisit the vault to procure payment for Bleda.

Leo rose and walked toward the door.

“Your Grace,” Cyril began.

“Well?” Leo asked as he turned to Cyril.

“Perhaps it would be wise to obtain more funding. Now that Attila is aware of Ruga’s demise eventually Bleda will know, too. They might…” he droned.

“Indeed. See to it,” said Leo.

Aetius started to follow Leo. Leo stopped him. “No, stay. I shall meet with all of you in the great hall. We shall conclude our business here today, then we leave at dawn tomorrow before the roads are worse for weather,” he said. “Ah, yes, Cyril,” Leo added, tossing the key to him before he left.

Leo observed the blue tunic of the servant who escorted him to the library. He kept his thoughts quiet about the woman he had seen in the hallway, assuming nothing, suspecting everything. Still, anxiety enveloped him.

Is it possible?

He prayed to God for clarity.  They reached the library and the servant opened the door for Leo.

“Thank you, Paulinus,” said Eudocia.

Leo greeted the Empress.

“Madame,” he said, bowing.

“Please, enter. I have your scroll ready, your Grace,” she said.

Eudocia indicated the divan. Leo smiled, sat down and took the scroll Eudocia offered him as she sat next to him.

“Oh this is truly a generous gift Empress,” he said.

“How go the talks your Grace?” she asked.

“Ah. They go as men direct them,” he said.

They observed each other with keen sobriety. Eudocia knew he chose not to talk politics with a woman and he knew she could have delivered the scroll to his room instead of summoning him to her library.

Eudocia marked his condescension and feigned a resolved laugh.

“And,” she said, pulling a scroll from behind the divan, “As an additional contribution to your growing library of exalted works I’ve included this by an author of whom you may have heard,” she said.

The Deacon took the scroll and opened it, perusing it for only a moment before his face turned ashen with recognition.

“What would I want with a mathematical work?” he asked in a low voice.

“It’s not the mathematics I thought would intrigue you but the authoress of the work itself,” she said.

Leo stood quickly from the divan. “What game do you play with me, Madame?” he said, feeling antagonized.

A voice from behind him caused him to turn quickly.

“There is a Hun proverb that says, ‘who stands with anger sits with loss,’“ Seira said. Nervous yet steadfast in her pose, she stood with Attila behind her, his arms folded across his chest.

Leo could only stare at her as a tense silence encapsulated the four powerful individuals assembled in the room.

“Who are you?” he finally asked.

“Don’t,” she said curtly as she approached him. “Do you see who I am?” she whispered to him.

This moment dreaded, yet expected, came as a peculiar relief for both of them. Leo gritted his teeth to a painful tension as prayers were answered. Clarity was finally his. He held back a sea of emotions and closed his eyes. He heaved a sigh that spoke more than words. Hypatia’s face came into his mind then blurred with pain.

“Did you have my mother murdered?” Seira asked.

Leo faced his daughter and his God in this one moment. For once, raw honesty surpassed ambition. A momentary need for absolution kept him from defenses. He looked at his daughter but could not answer. A fleeting, soulful expression revealed the truth. Leo lowered his head in shame.

“Why me? Why hunt me to erase me from the world? I have no power over…” Seira said before he interrupted.