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Authors: Harry Turtledove

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Fantasy fiction, #General

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BOOK: Krispos the Emperor
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"By all means, your Majesty." Tribo was not rude, certainly not by his own people's standards and not really by the Empire's. either. He just had a hard time taking seriously the elaborate ceremonial in which Videssos delighted. The moment matters turned substantive, his half-lazy, half-insolent manner dropped away like a discarded cloak.

As Avtokrator, Krispos had the privilege of speaking first: "I am not pleased that your master the khagan Nobad son of Gumush has permitted herders from Khatrish to come with their flocks into territory rightfully Videssian, and to drive our farmers away from the lands near the border. I have written to him twice about this matter, with no improvement. Now I bring it to your attention."

"I shall convey your concern to his mighty Highness," Tribo promised. "He in turn complains that the recently announced Videssian tariff on amber is outrageously high and is being collected with overharsh rigor."

"The second point may perhaps concern him more than the first," Krispos said. Amber from Khatrish was a monopoly of the khagan's; his profits on its sale to Videssos helped fatten his treasury. The tariff let the Empire profit, too. Krispos had also beefed up customs patrols to discourage smuggling. In his younger days, he'd been to Opsikion near the border with Khatrish and seen amber smugglers in action. The firsthand knowledge helped combat them.

Tribo assumed an expression of outraged innocence. "The khagan Nobad son of Gumush wonders at the justice of a sovereign who seeks lower tolls from the King of Kings on his western border at the same time as he imposes higher ones to the detriment of Khatrish."

A low mutter ran through the courtiers; few Videssians would have spoken so freely to the Avtokrator. Krispos doubted whether Nobad knew about his discussions with Rubyab of Makuran over caravan tolls. Tribo, however, all too obviously did, and served his khagan well thereby.

"I might reply that any soverign's chief duty is to promote the advantage of his own realm," Krispos said slowly.

"So you might, were you not Phos' vicegerent on earth," Tribo replied.

The mutter from the nobles got louder. Krispos said, "I do not find it just, eminent envoy, for you who are a heretic to use to your own ends my position in the faith as practice within Videssos."

"I crave your Majesty's pardon," Tribo said at once. Krispos stared suspiciously; he hadn't thought things would be that easy. They weren't. Tribo resumed, "Since you reminded me I am a heretic in your eyes, I will employ my own usages and ask you where in the Balance justice lies."

Videssian orthodoxy held that Phos would at the end of time surely vanquish Skotos. Theologians in the eastern lands of Khatrish and Thatagush, however, had needed to account for the eruption of the barbarous and ferocious Khamorth into their lands and the devastation resulting therefrom. They proclaimed that good and evil lay in perfect balance, and no man could be certain which would triumph in the end. Anathemas from Videssos the city failed to bring them back to what the Empire reckoned the true faith; abetted by the eastern khagans, they hurled anathemas of their own.

Krispos had no use for the Balancer heresy, but he had trouble denying that it was just for Khatrish to expect consistency from him. Concealing a sigh, he said, "Room for discussion about how we impose the tariffs may possibly exist."

"Your Majesty is gracious." Tribo sounded sincere; maybe he even was.

"As may be," Krispos said. "I also have complaints that ships from out of Khatrish have stopped and robbed several fishing boats off the coast of our dominions, and even taken a cargo of furs and wine off a merchantman. If such piracy goes on, Khatrish will face the Empire's displeasure. Is that clear?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Tribo said, again sincerely. Videssos' navy was vastly stronger than Khatrish's. If the Avtokrator so desired, he could ruin the khaganate's sea commerce without much effort.

"Good," Krispos said. "Mind you, I'll expect to see a change in what your people do; fancy promises won't be enough." Anyone who didn't spell that out in large letters to a Khatrisher deserved the disappointment he would get. But Tribo nodded; Krispos had reason to hope the message was fully understood. He asked, "Have you any more matters to raise at this time, eminent envoy?"

"Yes, your Majesty, may it please you, I do."

The reply caught Krispos by surprise; the agenda he'd agreed upon with the Khatrisher before the audience was complete. But he said, as he had to, "Speak, then."

"Thank you for your patience, your Majesty. But for the theological, er, discussion we just had, I would not presume to mention this. However: I know you believe that we who follow the Balance are heretics. Still, I must question the justice of inflicting upon us your own different and, if I may say so, more pernicious heresies."

"Eminent sir, I hope you in turn will forgive me, but I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about," Krispos answered.

Tribo's look said he'd thought the Emperor above stooping to such tawdry denials. That only perplexed Krispos the more; as far as he knew, he was telling the truth. Then the ambassador said, as scornfully as he could to a sovereign stronger than his own, "Do you truly try to tell me you have never heard of the murderous wretches who call themselves Thanasioi? Ah, I see by your face that you have."

"Yes, I have; at my command, the most holy sir the ecumenical patriarch Oxeites is even now convening a synod to condemn them. But how do you know of their heresy? So far as I have learned, it's confined to the westlands, near our frontier with Makuraner-held Vaspurakan. Few places in the Empire of Videssos lie farther from Khatrish."

"That may be so, your Majesty, but merchants learn the goods most worth shipping a long way are those with the least bulk," Tribo said. "Ideas, so far as I know, have no bulk at all. Perhaps some seamen picked up the taint in Pityos. Be that as it may, we have bands of Thanasioi in a couple of our coastal towns."

Krispos ground his teeth. If Khatrish held Thanasioi, their doctrines had undoubtedly spread to Videssian ports, as well. And that meant Videssos the city probably—no, certainly—had Thanasioi prowling its streets. "By the good god, eminent envoy, I swear we've not tried to spread this heresy to your land. Very much the opposite, in fact."

"Your Majesty has said it," Tribo said, by which Krispos knew that were he addressing anyone save the Avtokrator of the Videssians, he would have called him a liar. Perhaps realizing that even by Khatrisher standards he'd been overblunt, the envoy went on, "I pray your forgiveness, your Majesty, but you must understand that, from the perspective of my master Nobad son of Gumush, stirring up religious strife within our bounds is a ploy Videssos might well attempt."

"Yes, I can see that it might be," Knspos admitted. "You may tell your master, though, that it's a ploy I don't care to use. Since Videssos should have only one faith, I'm not surprised to find other sovereigns holding the same view."

"Please note I intend it for a compliment when I say that, for an Avtokrator of the Videssians, you are a moderate man," Tribo said. "Most men who wear the red buskins would say there should be only one faith through all the world, and that the one which emanates from Videssos the city."

Krispos hesitated before he answered; Tribo's "compliment" had teeth in it. Because Videssos had once ruled all the civilized world east of Makuran, universality was a cornerstone of its dealings with other states and of its theology. To deny that universality would give Krispos' nobles an excuse to mutter among themselves. He wanted them to have no such excuses.

At last he said, "Of course there should be only one faith; how else may a realm count on its folk remaining loyal to it? Hut since we have not met that ideal in Videssos, we would be in a poor position to pursue it elsewhere. Besides, eminent envoy, if you accuse us of introducing a new heresy into Khatrish. you can hardly at the same time accuse us of trying to force your people into orthodoxy."

Tribo's mouth twisted into a smile that lifted only one corner of it. "The first argument has some weight, your Majesty. As for the second one, I'd like it better in a school of logic than I do in the world. You could well hope to throw us into such religious strife that your folk might enter Khatrish and be acclaimed as rescuers."

"Your master Nobad son of Gumush is well served in you, eminent envoy," Krispos said. "You see more facets in a matter than a jeweler could carve."

"Thank you, your Majesty!" Tribo actually beamed. "Coming from a man with twenty-two years on the throne of Videssos, there's praise indeed. I shall convey to his mighty Highness that Videssos is itself plagued by these Thanasioi and not responsible for visiting them upon my country."

"I hope you do, for that is the truth."

"Your Majesty." Tribo prostrated himself once more, then rose and backed away from the throne until he had gone far enough to turn around without offending the Avtokrator of the Videssians. As far as Krispos was concerned, the ambassador could simply have turned his back and walked away, but the imperial dignity did not permit such ordinary behavior in his presence. He sometimes thought of his office as having a personality of its own, and a stuffy one at that.

Before he left the Grand Courtroom, he reminded himself to have the gear train behind his throne oiled.

"Good morning, your Majesty." With a mocking smile on his face. Evripos made as if to perform a proskynesis right in the middle of the corridor.

"By the good god, little brother, let it be," Phostis said wearily. "You're just as much—and just as little—Avtokrator as I am."

"That's true, for now. But I'll forever be just as little Avtokrator as you are, where after a while I won't be just as much. Do you expect me to be happy about that, just because you were born first? I'm sorry, your Majesty—" The scorn Evripos put into the title was withering. "—but you ask too
much." 

Phostis wished he could punch his brother in the face, as he
.1
had when they were boys. But Evripos was his little brother now only in age; he had most of a palm on Phostis in height and was thicker through the shoulders to boot. These days, he'd be the one to do most of the punching in a fight.

"I can't help being eldest, any more than you can help being born second," Phostis said. "Only one of us will be able to rule when the time comes; that's just the way things are. But who better than my brothers to—"

"—be your lapdogs," Evripos broke in, looking down his long nose at Phostis. Like Phostis, he had his mother's distinctive eyes, but the rest of his features were those of Krispos. Phostis also suspected Evripos had more of their father's driving ambition than he himself had ... or perhaps it was simply that Evripos was in a position where ambition stood out more. If events continued in their expected course, Phostis would be
the
Avtokrator of the Videssians. Evripos wanted the job, but was unlikely to get it by any legitimate means.

Phostis said, "Little brother, you and Katakolon can be my mainstays on the throne. Better to have family aid a man than outsiders—safer, too."
If I can trust you,
he added to himself.

"So you say now," Evripos retorted. "But I've had to read the historians just as you have. Once one son becomes Emperor, what's left for the others? Nothing, maybe less. They only show up in the books because they've raised a rebellion or else because they get a name for debauchery."

"Who gets a name for debauchery?" Katakolon asked as he came down the corridor of the imperial residence. He grinned at his two grim-faced brothers. "Me, I hope."

"You're well on your way to it, that's certain," Phostis told him. The remark should have been cutting; instead, it came out with an unmistakable ring of envy. Katakolon's grin got wider.

Phostis felt like punching him, too, but he was Evripos' size or bigger. Like Evripos, he favored Krispos in looks. Of the three of them, though, he had the sunny disposition. Being the heir set heavy responsibilities on Phostis. Evripos saw only Phostis standing between him and what he wanted. Both older brothers had better claims to the throne than Katakolon, who didn't seem interested in sitting on it, anyhow. All he wanted was to enjoy himself, which he did.

Evripos said, "His imperial Majesty here is deigning to parcel out to us our subordinate duties once he becomes senior Avtokrator."

"Well, why not?" Katakolon said. "That's how it's going to be, unless Father ties him in a weighted sack and flings him into the Cattle-Crossing. Father might, too, the way they go at each other."

Had Evripos said that, Phostis probably would have hit him. From Katakolon, it was just so many words. Not only was the youngest brother slow to take offense, he had trouble giving it, too.

Katakolon went on, "I know one of the subordinate duties
I
'd like, come the day: supervising the treasury subbureau that collects taxes from within the city walls."

"By the good god, why?" Evripos said, beating Phostis to the punch. "Isn't that rather too much like work for your taste?"

"That subbureau of the treasury collects tax receipts from and generally has charge of the city's brothels." Katakolon Iicked his lips. "I'm certain any Avtokrator would appreciate the careful "inspection I'd give them."

For once, Phostis and Evripos looked equally disgusted. It wasn't that Evripos failed to delight in venery; he was at least as bold a man of his lance as Katakolon. But Evripos did what he did without chortling about it to all and sundry afterward. Phostis suspected he was disgusted with Katakolon more for revealing a potential vulnerability than for his choice of supervisory position.

BOOK: Krispos the Emperor
5.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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