The Mosaic of Shadows (40 page)

At about the fourth hour, the bronze doors opened to admit a familiar figure, the barbarian Count Hugh, with a quartet of guards before him and as many pages behind. I stiffened, and nodded to the Patzinak captain to keep close to the throne. I had been assured of Count Hugh’s loyalty to the Emperor, or at least to his treasure, but having a barbarian so close, on this day of all days, seemed unspeakably reckless. The Emperor, as ever, gave no sign of discomfort.

‘Count Hugh.’ Krysaphios spoke from beside the Emperor. ‘Your kinsmen are again marching in arms against us. We are a peace-loving people, but in their hearts there is only war. Will you go to them, and press upon them our fervent desire for their brotherhood? Those who befriend us are rich in the blessings of life; our enemies enjoy only the pains of death.’

Count Hugh swallowed, and touched his throat to straighten the glittering pendant he wore. ‘You know I am always at my lord the Emperor’s command. But there is a madness in my kinsmen which I can neither cure nor explain. They have forgotten all that is good, and are seized by a thirst for blood and war. Loyal as I am to my lord, I do not think they will hear me.’ He lowered his voice a little. ‘They may not even respect the honour of my station.’

Krysaphios seemed about to speak angrily, but the Emperor forestalled him. It was the subtlest of movements, a drop of the chin and a slight widening of the eyes, but it must have been a deafening shout in Krysaphios’ ears for he recomposed himself and continued: ‘The Emperor reminds you that on this holy day, all Christians should unite in friendship. As our Lord Jesus Christ preached: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for great will be their reward in heaven.”’

It was not the gospel as I remembered it, but it seemed to pacify Count Hugh. He shifted the weight of his enormous lorum, so heavy with jewels that I feared it might crush him, made his obeisance and departed in haste. From beyond the door, I heard the sergeant calling for horses.

Left to his own desires, I suspect Count Hugh would even then have delayed his embassy as long as possible, but the Emperor must have made his will known throughout the palace, for within a quarter of an hour I saw their small procession trotting out of the gate below and across the plain towards the barbarians. I moved my way around the room, so as to have both the Emperor and the Franks in my sight.

Count Hugh and his entourage had just dropped into a dip in the landscape, and out of our view, when the doors were thrown open with a crash. I spun around, my hand on my sword, to see the Emperor’s brother Isaak marching in heedless of manners and convention, and entirely without the customary retinue.

‘What is this?’ he demanded of Krysaphios. ‘The barbarians are massing to attack again, and the legions sit in their barracks polishing their shields. They should be behind the walls, ready to be unleashed as soon as we have our enemies trapped under them.’

Krysaphios stared at him dispassionately. ‘The Emperor believes that the sight of our army in the streets would incite the mob to demand action, and raise the risk of a precipitate attack by an intemperate commander.’

‘Does the fear of the mob now guide the Emperor’s policy? Has he lost all faith in his captains, that they cannot be trusted to keep their men in order?’

‘If captains could be trusted with strategy, they would be generals.’ Krysaphios was less patient now. ‘And we have companies of archers who will hold the walls.’

‘And will they aim at clouds, as they did yesterday?’ Isaak was red with anger. ‘Every time we do not crush these barbarians, they grow bolder. Defeat is the only lesson they will learn – defeat by the force of our arms.’

The grains of the argument threatened to grow swiftly, but in a second the Emperor had stilled his chamberlain and his brother both. It seemed that he did no more than stretch out the fingers on his right hand, as if admiring his rings, yet Krysaphios and Isaak and all the assembled courtiers fell silent, and turned their gaze on the plain outside. Count Hugh was returning, galloping back as if the furies themselves chased him; he was comfortably in advance of his escort, and had entered the gates, climbed the stairs and been admitted to the Emperor’s presence before the last of his group had even reached the walls. All that time no-one spoke, save the priests who continued their ceaseless chanting behind the screen.

Count Hugh’s splendour was much diminished by his errand, though his pride was unbowed. There were gaps on his lorum where gems must have been shaken loose by the violence of his ride, and mud was splashed halfway up the skirts of his dalmatica. The jewelled cap he wore so constantly had slipped over one ear, which glowed as if it had been slapped.

Krysaphios still waited before he had performed the full homage before letting him speak.

‘My Lord,’ he said indignantly. ‘It is as I warned you: they are completely deaf to reason and charity. They called me a slave –
me
, a lord of the Franks and brother of a king. Their king, no less. How can I treat with such men?’

‘How did you?’ Krysaphios was unsympathetic, but Count Hugh’s answer was delayed, for the three priests suddenly processed from behind their screen and walked solemnly before the Emperor. One held a tall cross on a wooden staff, the second a censer, and the third a golden cup. He tipped it to the Emperor’s lips, while the others flanked him and sang their acclamations. When he had drunk, all three retreated, never once acknowledging the watching multitude.

Count Hugh glared at them, and continued. ‘I did as my lord the Emperor wished. I told them that all should offer their allegiance to the greatest power in Christendom. I reminded them that they were far from home and allies, and that rather than seek to overthrow the noble Romans they should be grateful of their aid. I appealed to their love of all good things in earth and heaven, and they laughed at me.
Me
, the brother of . . .’ A stare from Krysaphios ended his aside. ‘They said: “Why beg for a treasure we can seize ourselves, and from a king whose crown will have fallen before we are even within his walls?” I would have argued, but they grew tired of the interview and I feared they would kill me if I delayed longer. “Run to the Greeks,” they said as I left, “but you will find no safety there. For we are coming, and none can resist us.”’

‘And they are coming indeed.’ The Sebastokrator Isaak spoke from beside the windows, through which the lines of the Frankish cavalry could now be seen advancing towards us arrayed for battle. ‘Now will you hear me, brother?’

Krysaphios looked to the Emperor, still as a rock, and back to Isaak. ‘Your brother reminds you that unless they have built an army of siege engines in the night, the walls are secure. We can withstand a thousand such attacks.’

‘And every time our men will die.’ Isaak was speaking to the entire room now, as much as to those about the throne. ‘Are we to widow our women and orphan our children because we do not dare oppose the barbarians? I say it is better that a few should die in the glory of battle, than that the barbarians should pluck us from the walls one by one.’

‘Your pardon, Lord,’ Count Hugh broke in. ‘I beg the Emperor’s indulgence, and leave to retire to my apartments. The effort of my embassy has exhausted me.’

Krysaphios waved him away, though I saw that the Patzinaks followed when he left. Hugh would not be resting, I thought: he would be stuffing his trunks with all he could salvage, lest the barbarians make good their threats.

‘My Lord.’ Now Krysaphios addressed the Emperor. ‘It is plain the barbarians distrust Count Hugh. They fear he has betrayed his race, and so they do not respect his overtures. But Christians should not fight while there remains a hope of peace. Send another envoy, one who would awe the barbarians with his resolve and stature. Send one of your generals with a light escort, for the words will carry more weight from a soldier.’

‘And a legion of cataphracts will carry more weight still.’ Isaak stood in silhouette under the window arch, while behind him the barbarians drew ever closer. ‘You yourself could ride out, brother, and still they would not heed you. Do you hear that?’ He paused, allowing a distant roar to penetrate the room, as of a waterfall or high wind. ‘That is the mob. They know the barbarians approach, and they demand action.’ He crossed to the throne, and I too moved nearer, for I had not relaxed my suspicion of him. ‘You cannot deter the Franks with words. In this course you will not weaken them by a single man, while your enemies in the city will pull us down in riot and murder. If we attack, in a single stroke we will restore the loyalty of our people and destroy the barbarian threat.’

‘And leave ourselves open to the Turks.’ For the first time since entering the room, Alexios spoke. ‘If we hold firm we will see off the mob, the barbarians and the Turks, but if we waver, any one of them can destroy us.’

‘Forget the Turks!’ Isaak was shouting now, heedless of protocol and decorum. ‘Do you see Turks hammering on our gates demanding our blood? We have survived these fifteen years because we focused always on the greatest danger, not on those which might come later. This is not some game where you can plot your tactics many moves in advance, and sacrifice the lesser pieces for a greater end. Here every move risks destruction, and all you will sacrifice is yourself. Ourselves. Please, brother, forget this madness before it overwhelms us.’

It was astonishing watching these two brothers, so alike in form and so disparate in temper. The greater Isaak’s frenzy, the greater Alexios’ composure, and when at last he gave his answer it was still Krysaphios who spoke for him.

‘We will send the captain of the Immortals, with ten of his men, to warn the barbarians of their folly.’

Isaak seemed about to tear himself apart with rage, but Krysaphios continued: ‘Meanwhile, order all the legions of guards to assemble behind the gates.’

‘I will summon them myself. And send your words to the captain of the Immortals.’ Isaak hissed between his teeth, made the slightest of bows, and strode from the room. The noise of the mob grew loud as the doors opened, then subsided when they snapped fast. Again the chants of the priests were the only sound we heard. The courtiers looked at the floor and did not speak, uncertain perhaps how to respond to the Emperor’s public confrontation, or worrying whether they were bound to a doomed allegiance. I watched them each in turn, flicking my eyes from one to the next for any hint of rebellion. All were sullen, but none seemed fired with murder.

‘There.’ Krysaphios saw it first – or perhaps the Emperor signalled it to him – the first horses of the Immortals’ expedition. They rode on massive beasts bred for the purpose, capable of bearing a man cased entirely in armour into the heart of battle. I had seen them charge several times during my time in the army, and on each occasion I had marvelled how seldom they needed lance or mace, how quickly their weight alone tore through enemy lines and scattered men before them. Isaak was right: nothing could convince the barbarians of the might of our arms if they did not.

I counted them as they came into view from under the walls. Their captain rode in front, with four cataphracts flanking him and another four after them. That should be force enough, I thought. But there were more, trotting forward row after row: twenty, then sixty, then a hundred.

‘I ordered ten men.’ Every man in the room looked to the Emperor, who had half-risen from his throne to stare at the sight before him. There was nothing of the statue about him now: his face was alive with horrified anger, and every limb shook with rage. ‘Call them back now, before the barbarians take them for an assault.’

Orders were shouted out of the doors, and I heard trumpets sound from the ramparts, but the cataphracts had little ground to cover and already the head of their column neared the barbarian vanguard. They were too far away to hear, and too close to the barbarians to turn: we could only stare, as if watching a mime-show. Neither army slowed; the cataphracts kept to their unforced pace, and the Franks to their relentless advance. They were barely fifty feet apart now, and still closing; I watched for an opening in the Frankish ranks, wondering if they would admit the embassy, but they stayed locked together.

‘Turn back,’ a voice whispered.

Then a cloud of darts and javelins fell from the sky, and the battle began.

Even before the first arrows struck our cavalry had responded: they broke from their column, and cantered to form a double line facing the oncoming Franks. The missiles would have done our men little damage, for their armour was more than its equal, but I saw several horses already felled, their riders struggling to be free of their harnesses before the barbarians were over them. With a shout which reached even our ears, the Franks lowered their spears and charged. Our cataphracts spurred to meet them, and for a second I saw only two waves of brown and black and silver rushing against each other, closing over the ground between them. Then they struck, and the shapes of single men were lost in a sea of battle.

‘We must reinforce them, your Majesty.’ Krysaphios spoke urgently, but without the confusion which had gripped the rest of the room. ‘A hundred against ten thousand – they will be slaughtered to no gain.’

‘If I send out more men, there will merely be more slaughter. And why were there even a hundred to begin with? I gave orders for ten.’

‘Lord, the mob . . .’

‘Forget the mob. My office exists to restrain them, not pander to their craven dreams. We have the hippodrome for that. Where is my brother?’

‘At the Regia gate with the Varangians, Lord,’ a young courtier volunteered. ‘He awaits only your command to march to the aid of the cavalry.’

‘He will have a long wait then. Go and order him, in my name, that he is on no account to leave the city.’

The courtier made to leave, but a word of command from Krysaphios paused him. The eunuch’s eyes moved across the room and fixed on me. ‘Demetrios, you know the Varangian captain. These instructions would be better heeded if they came from you.’