Imperial Fire (9 page)

Caitlin didn’t look up from her needlework when Vallon returned from his visit to Lucas. Hero broke the awkward silence. ‘What do you make of our invalid?’

‘An odd case. In one breath he sounds like a bumptious peasant. With the next he gives the impression of someone from better-bred stock.’

Caitlin made a fierce stitch and put aside her embroidery. ‘As soon as he’s well enough, I want him out of here.’

‘He’s no trouble.’

‘No trouble? The families of those boys he attacked are threatening to complain to the magistrate.’

‘It was the Venetians who started the fight.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Their families are of good standing, while that lout is a nobody.’ Caitlin’s breathy voice threatened to break into a higher register. ‘And what was Wulfstan thinking of, breaking Marco’s nose?’

‘He wasn’t thinking of anything. Marco attacked a visitor to our house. He got what he deserved.’

‘It’s all very well for you to treat the matter lightly. You’re hardly ever here. I have to live with my neighbours. I’m the one who has to cultivate friendships, make alliances, consider marriage matches.’

‘Zoe is barely eight.’

‘The same age as Theodora’s daughter and she’s already betrothed.’

Vallon closed his eyes briefly.

Hero had been following the exchanges, his eyes switching from Vallon to Caitlin. He cleared his throat. ‘Lucas should be well enough to leave by Sunday.’

Vallon grunted. ‘Good.’

‘Will you take him into your squadron?’

Vallon shook his head. ‘I need seasoned fighters who can supply their own horse and arms. The boy doesn’t have a penny to his name.’

‘He seems a very determined young man – proud, too. On the ship he ate food I wouldn’t have given to a pig, yet he didn’t beg. And anyone who can walk from Aquitaine to Naples must be resourceful.’ Hero hesitated. ‘How much does a horse cost?’

‘The cheapest won’t leave change from twenty solidi.’ Vallon frowned. ‘You’re not thinking of setting him up, are you?’

Hero blushed. ‘Somehow I feel responsible for him. If I’d approached him more tactfully on the ship, I might have spared him a beating.’

Vallon converted his surprise into a shrug. ‘Well, it’s not my place to advise you on how to spend your money. He claims he can master horses and knows how to swing a sword. We’ll see.’

Caitlin rose in a swirl of silk. ‘You don’t listen to a word I say. You’re about to set off on another journey, and all you can talk about is some stranger who means nothing to us.’ Gathering up her skirts, she swept out of the room.

Vallon ran his tongue around his cheek and stared at the floor. ‘My lady is taking my departure badly.’

‘She has my sympathy.’

Vallon drew in his legs. ‘Tomorrow the Logothete will introduce me to the imperial ambassador.’

‘And I’m coming with you.’

‘We’ve been through this,’ Vallon said. ‘There’s no need for you to attend. You’re not subject to the minister’s dictates.’

‘Vallon, I didn’t travel all this way to turn down the chance of a visit to the Great Palace. There are princes who would pay for the privilege. Who’s the ambassador?’

‘Duke Michael Skleros, related to not one but two noble houses. His mother was a Phocas, a family that has produced two emperors, including the last one. His fortune doesn’t match his rank, though. The family’s estates were in Cappadocia and they lost them to the Seljuks after Manzikert. Oh, and I’ve been told that he’s as ugly as sin. The odd thing is that the Logothete hasn’t seen fit to introduce us until now. I can only deduce that Skleros isn’t his first choice. I suspect he approached other nobles who quite sensibly refused the undertaking.’

‘It will be an interesting encounter.’

‘Promise me something. Don’t commit yourself to the journey, and don’t let the minister take you in with his flattery.’

‘I trust I’m too mature for that.’

‘You haven’t met him. He’s a spider. You step onto his web with never a thought for the creature that spun it. By the time you feel the strands tremble and tighten, it’s too late.’

A carriage and splendidly accoutred cavalry escort awaited them on the Prosphorion quay. They rattled through the streets, the horsemen clearing the way, citizens peering into the carriage and bowing in a way that made Hero feel rather grand. The Chalke Gate opened before them as if by magic, its white-uniformed guards springing to attention, and they bowled through immaculate gardens before drawing up at the Magnaura entrance. A eunuch with the springy gait of an energetic stork led them through cavernous halls, Hero gawping at the lavish decoration and statuary. He grinned at Vallon.

‘This alone makes my journey worthwhile.’

‘Remember my warning.’

The eunuch flung open ivory-panelled doors and announced the visitors in a fluting alto. Twenty yards away across an exquisite mosaic floor, a dozen grandees broke off their conversations and eyed the newcomers with guarded interest or rank suspicion.

The Logothete, dressed in a blue and silver kaftan, advanced with open arms. He had a velvety white complexion and black serpentine brows that met over a fastidious nose and a fleshy red mouth framed by a silky beard. Hero wondered if he was one of the bearded eunuchs.

‘General Vallon, what a pleasure to see you again.’ He beamed at Hero. ‘And I’m delighted to make the acquaintance of such a distinguished physician and scholar.’

Vallon butted in with no consideration for protocol. ‘Hero has responded to your invitation only out of respect for your elevated rank. In no way does his presence signify any desire to join the enterprise.’

The Logothete made an ambiguous gesture and concentrated his liquid gaze on Hero. ‘I apologise for any misunderstanding. From the enthusiastic way Vallon spoke about you when we discussed the mission, I assumed that he would be delighted to have you at his side.’

Vallon spoke through clenched teeth. ‘My Lord, nothing I said could have given that impression.’

The Logothete kept his gaze on Hero. ‘As a diplomat, it’s my job to search for the true meaning behind words, and from what Vallon told me, I certainly formed the opinion that he would greatly value your presence on a venture of such importance.’ He swivelled to face Vallon. ‘Am I wrong?’

‘You know how much I admire Hero, but —’

‘Good. It seems my judgement was correct.’ The Logothete turned back to Hero. ‘Of course, the decision is yours alone. If you decline, we’ll return you to Italy at our expense and with something to compensate you for the inconvenience you have suffered. On the other hand —’

Vallon interrupted in English. ‘Accept the offer. You can be gone within a week.’

Murmurs rose from the craning onlookers. Whether or not the Logothete understood English, he seemed to gather Vallon’s meaning and frowned in rebuke. ‘If you’d allow me to finish…’ He smiled at Hero. ‘Naturally, if you did decide to join the embassy, we would reward you well, more than making up for the income you would have earned from your practice.’

Vallon attempted to speak. ‘My Lord —’

‘General, a gentleman of Hero’s intelligence can surely decide for himself.’

Hero avoided Vallon’s eye. ‘I would need to hear all the details before reaching a decision.’

‘Excellent,’ said the Logothete. ‘And after our discussions, perhaps you’d favour us with your company at an informal meal. I’d very much like to question you on some details about your travels in the north, particularly the time you spent in Rus.’

‘My pleasure.’

With a triumphant glance at Vallon, the Logothete turned to the other guests. ‘His Excellency, Duke Michael Skleros, imperial ambassador to the court of the Song emperor. Allow me to present General Vallon, commander of your escort, and his companion, Hero of Syracuse.’

It was all Hero could do to hide his shock. ‘Ugly’ didn’t do justice to Skleros. His appearance was repulsive – a fat and stunted body with a disproportionately large head on no neck to speak of, tiny mole-like eyes and a sagging bottom lip, long in the hip and short in the shank. Hideous. Hero should have felt pity for someone so ill-favoured, but somehow the man left him feeling obscurely menaced.

Vallon made a bow. ‘I’m honoured to serve such a distinguished servant of the empire.’

Skleros extended a podgy, manicured hand as if he expected Vallon to kiss it. ‘General,’ he said. For Hero he managed only a nod and flutter of the fingers.

The Logothete massaged his palms. ‘General, we haven’t been idle since our last meeting. We’ve received the guarantees of safe conduct through Seljuk territory. We’re gathering supplies and have requisitioned transport for the Black Sea voyage. You’ll sail to Trebizond in four ships. One will carry your military escort, the second Duke Skleros and his entourage, and the others the horses and supplies.’ At a click of the Logothete’s fingers, a clerk hurried to press documents into the hands of Vallon and one of Duke Michael’s retainers. ‘Inventories. Examine them carefully. If you spot any omissions or deficiencies, bring them to my attention immediately.’

During the ensuing discussion, Vallon sidled up to Hero. ‘I trust that your encounter with the ambassador has banished your illusions.’

‘He certainly has a most unfortunate appearance. I can only assume that the emperor chose him for other qualities.’

‘Such as? His sneering condescension. Imagine being stuck with that bloated snob for the next three years.’

The Logothete clapped his hands. Double doors opened. ‘If you’d care to follow me.’

Trailing behind the duke’s party, Hero entered an antechamber artfully lit to display a hoard of treasures heaped on a table.

‘These are the gifts for the Song emperor.’

The company circled the table, murmuring their appreciation. Hero didn’t know where to rest his eyes. Two gold goblets set with amethysts and cabochons. A silk gown dyed purple with murex and embroidered with precious metals and pearls. A water clock mounted in a gilt bronze case. Icons depicting Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary painted in encaustic by a master. A silver dish bearing a niello monogram of the emperor. Two lustreware chargers, one painted with a dromon, the other with a hunting scene…

The Logothete leaned towards Hero. ‘Fit for an emperor, would you say?’

Hero passed a hand over his eyes. ‘They’re wonderful objects.’

The Logothete craned closer. ‘But? Don’t be scared to speak out.’

One by one all turned until Hero was the focus of attention. ‘My worry is that the emperor of China already possesses treasures beyond price.’ Hero stroked the gown, a fabric so gorgeous that a wealthy man might labour all his life and never earn enough to possess it. ‘Silk? It was China that originated the craft of silk-making.’ He pointed at the icons. ‘The Chinese worship their own gods and ancestors.’ He picked up one of the goblets. ‘Gold and jewels? Yes, no ruler can have enough of them. The problem is, are you prepared to lavish sufficient to satisfy the Cathay emperor’s appetite? The clock is very fine, but if Master Cosmas is to be believed, the Chinese make their own timepieces, including water-powered chronometers that stand as tall as a house and can track the planets as well as telling the hours. Again, Cosmas told me that the Cathay nobility dine off ceramics fairer and finer than anything crafted by our potters.’ Hero hesitated. ‘I’m sorry if I belittle your treasures.’

The Logothete darted a tight smile at his guests. ‘No, this is why I brought you here.’ He expanded his chest. ‘So, what does Byzantium have to offer an emperor who apparently possesses everything?’

‘Envy?’ said Vallon.

The Logothete managed a pained smile. ‘I didn’t know you had a sense of humour, General.’

Hero smothered a laugh. It wasn’t often Vallon made a joke. He composed his features. ‘It occurs to me that the Cathay emperor might appreciate gifts of a more practical nature.’

The Logothete’s eyes widened. ‘Name them.’

‘Manuals on engineering and medicine, warfare and governance. ‘Also…’ Hero slid a glance at Vallon. ‘The general told me that you hoped to obtain from China the formula for an awesome incendiary.’

‘Fire Drug. Do you know about it?’

‘No, but if it’s so important, perhaps you should consider obtaining it in exchange for Greek Fire.’

The Logothete shook his head, shutting his eyes for emphasis. ‘Out of the question.’

‘But you expect the Chinese to share their own military technology.’

‘If they won’t divulge it willingly, you might have to resort to other methods.’ The Logothete made a dismissive wave. ‘I’ve already been through this with Vallon.’

‘And I share the general’s doubts,’ Skleros said. ‘Any diplomatic benefits we might gain would be wiped out if the Chinese discover that one of our aims is to steal a state secret. Even our lives might be put in jeopardy.’

The Logothete flung up a hand as if warding off something obscene. ‘I didn’t say “steal”. I simply urge you to use whatever stratagems you can devise to obtain the formula. No doubt it will involve the exchange of money.’ The Logothete’s dark eyes roamed across his audience. ‘I have only this to add. Return with the secret of Fire Drug and the emperor will reward you with twenty thousand solidi, to be shared between the duke and the general in the portion of two parts to one.

The guests glanced at each other. Hero boggled. Twenty thousand solidi amounted to more than two hundred pounds of gold. He turned his gaze towards Vallon and found the general’s expression as hard as stone.

‘Will we be armed with Greek Fire?’ Vallon asked.

‘Only for the voyage across the Black Sea. I don’t suppose you want to lug barrels and cauldrons and siphons all the way to China.’

Vallon turned to Skleros. ‘I understand that your retinue will number about forty.’

Skleros flicked a look at him before addressing the Logothete. ‘Since you’ve encouraged us to speak our minds, allow me to express mine. I mean no disrespect to General Vallon, but our embassy would carry greater prestige if the commander and his troops were Greek. After all, you as minister for foreign affairs would be less inclined to take an embassy seriously if the majority of the party were foreign mercenaries.’