The Blood of Alexandria (66 page)

‘The object’s location and its correct use, I will say, are matters known only to me. My information so far has been absolutely correct. I have no doubt this will continue to be so. Let it be enough for the moment that I have no interest in holy relics. Nor, let me say for the avoidance of doubt, do I care for the ravings of some long dead philosopher. In this, as in so many other concerns, the Greeks have nothing to offer. The object I seek gives access to a power that comes from the ability to inflict death without hope of escape or vengeance.’

‘I suppose you could frighten someone to death with it – assuming you ever do lay hands on it,’ said Priscus with yet another of his mirthless smiles. He stroked the moulting fur of his cat, then wiped his hand on a napkin. ‘Of course, we already have one dead wog. Show a few of those statues Alaric describes, and I’ve no doubt we could improve on that.’

There was a movement of the tent flaps and Macarius entered the room. It was a hot night, and my clothes had dried faster than expected. He laid them out on an empty chair. He looked briefly at me, and then at the heap of notes. I ignored him. Priscus stopped him as he was about to leave.

‘Do have more water sent in,’ he sighed. ‘And do have the bowl filled to the brim this time. It’s been a fucking hot day waiting out there by that opening, you know. A bit of haste on your young friend’s part wouldn’t have been unwelcome.’

Macarius bowed and went silently out.

Priscus tugged slyly on one of the cat’s whiskers. He looked up again. With a faint snort, he pushed the notes across the table in my direction. ‘I’ve heard more profitable narratives in church,’ he said.

‘I find your lack of faith disturbing,’ Siroes replied. ‘Sitting round this table, we have a king of Egypt, which is or could be the richest country in the world. We have the cousin and grandson of a great king of Persia. And we have the descendant of at least one Roman emperor. Believe me that we have the means to make ourselves masters in our own right of half the world. And believe me that we shall soon have the means to bring the other half very speedily under our control. It is a matter of one repaired bridge to the unvisited side of that cavern, and of a little willingness to work thereafter as one.’

‘There is something over on the other side,’ I broke in with a show of eagerness. ‘I just couldn’t see it in the light we had.’ I hadn’t for a moment been taken in by all that guff about the ‘perfect equality of peoples’. It didn’t surprise me now if Siroes had dropped it like a hot brick. But it was at least slighting that his talk of dignitaries had left no room for Legates Extraordinary – still less for England. I’d been well and truly demoted from His Magnificence to barbarian youth. ‘We explored perhaps only a fraction of the whole complex,’ I added, keeping my face heroically straight. ‘Moreover, even if they weren’t on your list of things to find, the writings of Eratosthenes were highly suggestive of what might be achieved by following his own lead.’

‘So you tell us, dear boy,’ Priscus said with another of his smiles. ‘So you said. We don’t disbelieve a word of your story of the marvels deep underground. Indeed, while you were cleaning up, we – or at least Siroes – decided we were so intrigued that nothing would keep us from making our own inspection first thing tomorrow morning. Because of the great love we bear each other, and as a sign of our complete unity of will, we have decided to go down there together, drawing lots to see who should go first through that hole. We must rely on the popularity Lucas has among his own people that all three of us – plus you, of course – are not sealed in the moment we are at the foot of the ladder.’

The tent flaps opened again and the usual serving man came in with a pitcher of water. While Priscus watched intently, he poured a cup for himself and drank. We waited. Priscus nodded and the man filled the bowl up past the two-thirds mark. I dipped my own cup into the bowl. As I was about to set it to my lips, the tent flaps opened yet again. Macarius entered, now with a jug of wine. Things were looking up. I set my cup on the table and waited. Macarius turned and rasped an order. Through the still open tent flaps Martin now was pushed in among us. His fetters had been taken off, and he’d been allowed a wash – though still not a shave. His bandage had been replaced with something smaller and cleaner.

‘Ah, little Martin!’ Priscus cried, rising and making an ironic bow. ‘You come at a most opportune moment. You will have heard already from His Grace of Letopolis that young Alaric is alive and well. You will surely wish to volunteer for another trip underground with us. I hope Alaric’s description of the narrow steps is accurate in its dimensions. It would never do to have you trapped there by your own belly.’

‘It is as you wish, sir,’ Martin said in a flat voice. He looked at me and swallowed.

I could see how baggy his face had become under the ginger bristles. Well past any desperation, his eyes were dead. I smiled weakly at him. Things might easily be worse. He still had his right ear.

‘So we are agreed?’ Siroes asked. ‘We are agreed on a permanent alliance of our three crowns – an alliance to take what is ours by right, and to take what ought to be ours by means of the force prophesied to us?’

‘Let it be as you suggest, my dear Brother in Purple,’ said Lucas.

I’d been glancing at his face while Priscus and Siroes were talking. He hadn’t yet spoken much. But he was looking at his notes with a mixture of awe and cunning. He was visibly thinking how not to be other than last to go down that hole – and how long before its covering slab might safely be lifted again.

‘We may be agreed, my dear fellow,’ Priscus said wearily. ‘But I’d be grateful for some explanation of how we are to translate possession of this object that so excites you into shared dominion over all the nations. I can’t say it wouldn’t please me to watch Heraclius devoured by hyenas in the Circus in Constantinople. But the prospect won’t excite me until I’ve been given some indication of the means.’

Siroes smiled. ‘I understand that you retain command of all the military forces in and around Alexandria,’ he said.

Priscus nodded. If Nicetas really had recovered from his fright, that wouldn’t be technically correct. Even so, the men might follow Priscus rather than him. Setting them to an easy massacre, with rape and plunder for dessert, is the quickest way to a soldier’s heart.

‘Good,’ Siroes continued. ‘Then we will march on Alexandria just as soon as our business here is finished. From there, we will send letters to Heraclius and to Chosroes. We will invite both to come in person to Daras on what is still more or less the border between our two empires. There, I will recite the words that only I know, thereby combining what I have with what we shall jointly acquire tomorrow into a demonstration of the power that we have. I do not expect any difficulty beyond that. We shall take power by acclamation. If there is any delay, we shall simply have to see one or both capitals go up in a fire that cannot be quenched.’

‘Before we both declare ourselves traitors,’ Priscus replied, ‘and that might well bring on the truce Heraclius has been begging for these past two years, I think it would be best if we could all be sure that the power you promise really is what you believe it to be. I might add that, if this is a power that still requires
some
armed support, it might not be what you would have
us
believe. I suggest a prior demonstration for our own benefit. Whatever you are planning for Daras might be tried first in Alexandria. Nicetas can stand in perfectly well for Heraclius in this as in all other respects.’

Siroes laughed bleakly. ‘Then let it be so, Priscus,’ he said. ‘I did suppose His Majesty the Pharaoh would choose to make his capital in Alexandria, and that this might be taken with conventional force. But if you wish to see Nicetas devoured from within, let fire and pestilence be spread also through the streets of that great and famous city.’

If Priscus still didn’t look convinced, there seemed no point in his continuing the interrogation. He shrugged and pointed at the wine. Lucas sat nearest the jug. He pulled a face and stared back. But there were none of his people in the tent to witness any humiliation. Priscus pointed again, then went back to stroking his cat. Putting on what he may have thought an hospitable look, Lucas got up and filled four cups. Siroes took out his dice and Priscus cast them. We took the cups allotted, and then exchanged them one last time at random.

‘Come, dear friends,’ Priscus called with a semblance of cheer, ‘let us drink to Success in Unity.’

Two firm voices, and one with a mutter, repeated the toast. We raised our cups. I drank.

I looked up in the sudden silence. Still full to the brim, three other cups had been set down again on the table. I looked at Priscus, who was now smiling expectantly.

‘Oh, Jesus!’ I cried. ‘I blame myself for this. I should have remembered what a fucking snake you were.’ I clutched at my throat and rolled my eyes.

‘You were right, Priscus,’ Lucas cried exultantly. ‘The barbarian drank as greedily as if he’d been a sick slave.’ He turned to me. ‘You can now look forward to an eternity in Hell for your impertinence to the Chosen One of Isis. You can see there what the demons think of your “State of Nature” and your “Perfect Freedom”.’ He took up his water cup and refilled it. ‘Did I not once tell you,’ he asked, ‘that I am now a sworn stranger to wine? Did that fact slip your drunkard mind?’ He spat in my direction and laughed. ‘No witch will save you now,’ he gloated. ‘You will die choking in pain before our eyes. The very night beasts of the desert will spurn your tainted barbarian flesh.’ He drank again and laughed triumphantly.

‘Do believe me, Alaric,’ Priscus said, now friendly, ‘that this was a difficult task. I did argue your case. But I was outvoted. And you will agree that your usefulness as finder of whatever this object may be is now at an end. Siroes is assured we can do the rest together.

‘Gentlemen,’ he said, now raising his voice again, ‘I give you the toast a second time: Success in Unity!’

I fell back and coughed hard. Siroes raised his water cup in another ironic toast and drained it.

‘Oh, Aelric! Aelric!’ Martin sobbed as he threw himself at me. ‘This is all my doing. You should have left me to die at the Church of the Apostles.’ He snatched the cup from my hands and drained it to the bitter dregs. He embraced me and slobbered a kiss on my cheek. My blanket fell loose and my nipple stiffened in the slight chill that I now felt around me. ‘O God,’ he cried in a loud voice, ‘let me burn in Hell for my sins. But show mercy on this blessed if foolish barbarian child.’ He dropped the cup and clutched at himself. ‘I feel death already clawing at my vitals,’ he called, now speaking still louder. ‘Let the agonies of death be just the prelude to my deserved sufferings in Hell. O God in Thy Mercy, let—’

‘Oh, do shut up, Martin!’ Priscus said wearily. ‘Whatever happens when you’re out of it, you really should remember your position in this world, and only speak when spoken to.’

I kicked Martin hard on the shin and pulled a face. That shut him up. I resisted the urge to laugh at the expression on his face. I rearranged my blanket and sat forward again.

‘Now, gentlemen,’ Priscus said to the whole company, ‘because I’m in talkative mood, I’ll tell you something not many people know.’ He took out one of the black pills he reserved for moments that he was already relishing. ‘Tittymilk of Hera is the finest weapon in the poisoner’s arsenal. I cannot recall how useful I’ve found it these past forty years for removing those inconvenient souls who cannot be got at by other means. However – and Alaric should know this – it is completely useless in wine. Never mind the taste, you’d need to be pissy drunk not to notice the smell.

‘In water, on the other hand, it has neither smell nor taste.’ He put down his own still full water cup and put the black pill on to his yellowish tongue. He washed it down with a long single gulp of his wine. He looked around, bright anticipatory pleasure on his face.

Siroes opened his mouth, his face gone suddenly grey. He looked at his empty cup. Lucas simply looked stupid.

Chapter 66

‘Because I’m still in talkative mood,’ Priscus continued with a complacent look round the table, ‘I’ll tell you what you can expect. In the dose I’ve just administered, you should already be feeling a paralysis of the speech organs and of the limbs. This should last some while, the stiffness growing progressively more uncomfortable. You should feel the approach of death in some convulsions – convulsions that will be exquisitely painful and, from my point of view, conveniently silent.

‘Do have some more of this, Alaric, my dear boy,’ he said, leaning forward with the wine jug. ‘I’ll not grudge a taste to Martin. But it really is too delicious to pass up.’

I drank again and it set my teeth on edge. Martin was still retching and clutching at his stomach. I kicked him again, and followed this with a gentle slap to the unbandaged side of his face. Siroes and Lucas, now speechless, were beginning to tremble and to sweat heavily. Priscus smiled and stretched his arms. He sat back in his chair. He looked round for his cat. It was quietly shitting over in a corner of the tent.