Sailing to Sarantium (48 page)

Alixana smiled at him. 'Of course they are.' Her smile deepened.
'They are also the bearers of Heladikos to the place where sea meets
sky at twilight.'

So much for temporizing. At least he knew which sin he might be
burned for committing.

She was making it easier for him, however. He met her eyes, which had
not left his face. 'Both Patriarchs have banned such teachings,
Empress. The Emperor swore an oath in the old Sanctuary of Jad's
Wisdom to uphold their will in this.'

'You heard of that? Even in Batiara? Under the Antae?'

'Of course we did. The High Patriarch is in Rhodias, my lady.'

'And did the king of the Antae ... or his daughter after . . . swear
a similar oath to uphold?'

A stunningly dangerous woman. 'You know they did not, my lady. The
Antae came to Jad by way of the Heladikian teachings.'

'And have not changed their doctrines, alas.'

Crispin spun around.

The Empress merely turned her head and smiled at the man who had
entered-as silently as she had-and had just spoken from the farthest
door of the room.

For the second time, his heart racing, Crispin set down his wine and
bowed to conceal a mounting unease. Valerius had changed neither his
clothing nor his manner. He crossed to the wall himself and poured
his own cup of wine. The three of them were alone, no servants in the
room.

The Emperor sipped from his cup and looked at Crispin, waiting. An
answer seemed to be expected.

It was very late; an utterly unanticipated mood seized Crispin,
though it was one his mother and friends would all have claimed they
knew. He murmured, 'One of the Antae's most venerated clerics has
written that heresies are not like clothing styles or beards, my
lord, to go in and out of fashion by the season or the year.'

Alixana laughed aloud. Valerius smiled a little, though the grey eyes
remained attentive in the round, soft face. 'I read that,' he said.
'Sybard of Varena. A Reply to a Pronouncement. An intelligent man. I
wrote to him, saying as much, invited him here.'

Crispin hadn't known that. Of course he hadn't known that.

What he did know-what everyone seemed to know-was that Valerius's
manifest ambitions in the Batiaran peninsula derived much of their
credibility from the religious schisms and the declared need to
rescue the peninsula from 'error.' It was odd, and at the same time
of a piece with what he was already learning about the man, that the
Emperor might anchor a possible reconquest of Rhodias and the west in
religion, and at the same time praise the Antae cleric whose work
challenged, point by point, the document that gave him that anchor.

'He declined the invitation,' said Alixana softly, 'with some unkind
words. Your partner Martinian also declined our invitation. Why,
Rhodian, do none of you want to come to us?'

'Unfair, my heart. Caius Crispus has come, on cold autumn roads,
braving a barber's razor and our court... only to find himself beset
by a mischievous Empress with an impious request.'

'Better my mischief than Styliane's malice,' said Alixana crisply,
still leaning back against the table. Her tone changed, slyly. It was
interesting: Crispin knew the shadings of this voice, already. He
felt as if he always had. 'If heresies change by the season,' she
murmured, 'may not the decorations of my walls, my lord Emperor? You
have already conquered here, in any case.'

She smiled sweetly, at both of them. There was a brief silence.

'What poor man,' said the Emperor finally, shaking his head, his
expression bemused, 'may hope to be wise enough to have rejoinders
for you?'

His Empress's smile deepened. 'Good. I may do it, then? I do want
dolphins here. I shall make arrangements for our Rhodian to-'

She stopped. An Imperial hand was uplifted across the room, straight
as a judge's, halting her. 'After,' said Valerius sternly. 'After the
Sanctuary. If he chooses to do so. It is a heresy, seasonal or
otherwise, and the weight of it, discovered, would fall on the
artisan not the Empress. Consider. And decide after.'

'After,' said Alixana, 'is likely to be a long time from now. You
have built a very large Sanctuary, my lord. My chambers here are
lamentably small.' She made a moue of displeasure.

Crispin had an emerging sense that this was both a normal byplay for
the two of them and something contrived to divert him. Why the
latter, he wasn't sure, but the thought produced an opposite effect:
he remained uneasy and alert.

And there came, just then, a knocking at the outer door.

The Emperor of Sarantium looked over quickly, and then he smiled. He
looked younger when he did, almost boyish. 'Ah! Perhaps I am wise
enough, after all. An encouraging thought. It appears,' he murmured,
'that I am about to win a wager. My lady, I shall look forward to
your promised payment.'

Alixana looked put out. 'I cannot believe she would do this. It must
be something else. Something...' She trailed off, biting at her lower
lip. The lady-in-waiting had appeared at the inner doorway, eyebrows
raised in inquiry. The Emperor set down his drink and silently
withdrew past her, out of sight into the interior room. He was
smiling as he went, Crispin saw.

Alixana nodded to her woman. The lady-in-waiting hesitated, and
gestured towards her mistress and then at her own hair. 'My lady . ..
?'

The Empress shrugged, impatience flitting across her face. 'People
have seen more than my unbound hair, Crysomallo. Leave it be.'

Crispin stepped reflexively back towards the table with the rose as
the door opened. Alixana stood not far away, imperious, for all the
intimacy of her appearance. It did occur to him that whoever this was
it could hardly be an intruder, else they'd not have gained entry
into this palace, let alone caused the guards to tap on the door so
late at night.

The woman stepped back a little and a man entered the room behind
her, though only a pace or two. He cradled a small ivory box in both
hands. He handed it to Crysomallo, and then, turning towards the
Empress, performed a full court obeisance, head touching the floor
three times. Crispin wasn't certain, but he had a sense that such
ceremony was excessive here, exaggerated. When the visitor finally
straightened and then stood at Alixana's gesture, Crispin recognized
him: the lean, narrow-faced man who'd been standing behind the
Strategos Leontes in the audience chamber.

'You are a late visitor, secretary. Could this be a personal gift
from you, or has Leontes something private he wishes said?' The
Empress's tone was difficult to read: perfectly courteous, but no
more than that.

'His lady wife does, thrice-exalted. I bring a small gift from
Styliane Daleina to her thrice-revered and beloved Empress. She would
be honoured beyond her worth should you deign to accept it.' The man
looked quickly around as he finished speaking, and Crispin had the
distinct sense that the secretary was memorizing the room. He could
not miss the Empress's unbound hair, or the privacy of this
situation. Clearly, Alixana did not care in the least. Crispin
wondered, again, what game he'd become a small piece in, how he was
being deployed now and to what end.

The Empress nodded at Crysomallo, who unclasped a golden latch on the
box and opened it. The woman was unable to hide her astonishment. She
held up the object within. The small gift. There was a silence.

'Oh, dear,' said the Empress of Sarantium softly. 'I have lost a
wager.'

'My lady?' The secretary's brow furrowed. It was not what he'd
expected to hear.

'Never mind. Tell the Lady Styliane we are pleased with her gesture
and by the . . . celerity with which she chose to send it to us,
keeping a hard-working scribe awake so late at night as a messenger.
You may go.'

That was all. Courtesy, crispness, a dismissal. Crispin was still
trying to absorb the fact that the staggeringly opulent pearl
necklace he'd seen on Styliane Daleina-the one he'd drawn unwanted
attention to-had just been presented to the Empress. The worth of it
was past his ability even to imagine. He had a certainty, though-an
absolute conviction-that had he not spoken as he had, earlier, this
would not have happened.

'Thank you, most gracious lady. I shall hasten to relay your kind
words. Had I known I might be interrupting...'

'Come, Pertennius. She knew you would interrupt and so did you. You
both heard me summon the Rhodian in the throne room.'

The man fell silent, his eyes dropped to the floor. He swallowed
awkwardly. It was oddly pleasant, Crispin realized, to see someone
else being discomfited by Alixana of Sarantium.

'I thought... my lady. She thought .. . you might'

'Pertennius, poor man. You'll do better going with Leontes to
battlefields and writing about cavalry charges. Go to bed. Tell
Styliane I am happy to accept her gift and that the Rhodian was
indeed still with me, as she wished him to be, to see her make a gift
that outstripped the one he offered her. You may also tell her,'
added the Empress, 'that my hair still reaches the small of my back,
unbound.' She turned deliberately, as if to let the secretary see,
and walked over to the table where the wine flask stood. She picked
up the cup Valerius had set down.

Crysomallo opened the door. In the instant before the man named
Pertennius-where had he heard that name today?-turned to leave,
Crispin saw something flash in his eyes and as quickly disappear as
the man repeated his full obeisance and then withdrew.

Alixana did not turn around until the door closed.

'Jad curse you with cataracts and baldness,' she said furiously, in
that low, utterly magnificent voice.

The Emperor of Sarantium, so addressed by his wife as he came back
into the room, was laughing with delight. 'I am balding,' he said. 'A
wasted curse. And if I develop cataracts you'll have to surrender me
to the physicians for treatment, or guide me through life with a
tongue to my ear.'

Alixana's expression, seen in profile, arrested Crispin for a moment.
He was pretty certain it was an unguarded look, something
disturbingly intimate. Something caught in his own heart, the past
snagging on the present.

'Clever of you, love,' Alixana murmured, 'to have anticipated this.'

Valerius shrugged. 'Not really. Our Rhodian shamed her with a
generous gift after publicly exposing an error of presumption. She
ought not to have worn jewellery exceeding the Empress's and she knew
it.'

'Of course she knew. But who was going to say so, in that company?'

Both turned, as if cueing each other, to look at Crispin. Both smiled
this time.

Crispin cleared his throat. 'An ignorant mosaicist from Varena, it
seems, who now wishes to ask if he is likely to die for his
transgressions.'

'Oh, certainly you are. One of these days,' said Alixana, still
smiling. 'We all do. Thank you, though. I owe you for an unexpected
gift, and I do extravagantly admire a pearl like this. A weakness.
Crysomallo?'

The lady-in-waiting, smiling with pleasure herself, walked over with
the box. She withdrew the necklace again, undid the clasp, and moved
behind the Empress.

'Not yet,' said Valerius, touching the woman's shoulder. 'I'd like
Gesius to have it looked at before you put it on.'

The Empress looked surprised. 'What? Really? Petrus, you think ...?'

'No, I don't, in fact. But let it be examined. A detail.'

'Poison is scarcely a detail, my heart.'

Crispin saw Crysomallo blink at that and hurriedly replace the
necklace in its box. She wiped her fingers nervously against the
fabric of her robe. The Empress seemed more intrigued than anything
else, not alarmed at all-so far as he could tell.

'We live with these things,' Alixana of Sarantium said quietly. 'Do
not trouble yourself, Rhodian. As for your own safety ... you did
discomfit a number of people this evening. I would think a guard
might be appropriate, Petrus?'

She had turned as she spoke, to the Emperor. Valerius said simply,
'It is already in place. I spoke with Gesius before coming here.'

Crispin cleared his throat. Things happened swiftly around these two,
he was beginning to realize. 'I should feel. .. awkward with a guard
following me about. Is it permissible to make a suggestion?'

The Emperor inclined his head. Crispin said, 'I mentioned the soldier
who brought me here. His name is-'

'-Carullus, of the Fourth Sauradian, here to speak with Leontes.
Probably about the soldiers' payment. You did mention him. I have
named him and his men as your guards.'

Crispin swallowed. By rights, the Emperor should not have even
recalled the existence let alone the name of an officer mentioned
once, in passing. But it was said of this man that he forgot nothing,
that he never slept, that-indeed-he held converse, took counsel, with
spirits of the half-world, dead predecessors, walking the palace
corridors by night.

'I am grateful, my lord,' Crispin said, and bowed. 'Carullus is by
way of being a friend now. His company is a comfort here in the City.
I will walk easier for his presence.'

'Which is to my advantage, of course,' said the Emperor, with a
slight smile. 'I want your attention on your labours. Would you like
to see the new Sanctuary?'

'I am eager to do so, my lord. The first morning when it is possible
to be allowed-'

'Why wait? We'll go now.'

It was long past the middle of the night. Even the Dykania revels
would be ended by now. The bakers at their ovens, the Sleepless Ones
at their vigils, street cleaners, city guards, prostitutes of either
sex and their clients, these would be the people still awake and
abroad. But this was an Emperor who never slept. So the tale ran.

'I ought to have expected this,' Alixana said, her tone affronted. 'I
bring a clever man to my rooms for such ... skills as he may offer
me, and you spirit him away.' She sniffed elaborately. 'I shall take
refuge in my bath and my bed, then, my lord.'