The Palace of Swans, Ctesiphon
Despite the hour, late after the rising of the moon, the halls of the palace were filled with light. Thyatis, following an unusually ebullient Jusuf, glanced sidelong at grand colonnades of marble pillars, slim and topped with acanthus capitals. On every pillar lanterns burned brightly. The broad floors, a pale-azure color, were clean swept and the walls were covered with incised murals of the victories of the kings of Persia. Thyatis was garbed in a delicate silk gown under a supple dark robe. Only her slate-gray eyes, edged with kohl, showed amid the headdress. As befitted a woman of her station, she kept a pace behind Jusuf and a step to the side.
In turn, he was gorgeously appointed in blue and green linen with a silk scarf draped around his neck. His shoes were jeweled and curled up at the pointed tips. The afternoon had been spent carefully waxing his beard and sharpening the points of his mustaches. Now he cut a dashing figure, one that was completely in place, and thus invisible, in the palace of the King of Kings. Far more demure in her dark cloak and robe, Thyatis was also invisible, though her nerves had been on edge since their carriage had been admitted to the grounds of the stupendous palace. The servant who was escorting them paused before a tall doorway with a pointed arch. He bowed to the two guards, massively built black men in leather and iron, and whispered to them.
The guardsmen, somber in a dull red and black, returned the bow and opened the door behind them. Soft music drifted out and Thyatis forced herself to remain behind Jusuf as he bowed to the room and entered in stately fashion. The servant sidled up to the Bulgar and Jusuf bent his head to listen. A bag of heavy coins was pressed into the eunuch's hand and the plump little man bowed again before closing the doors behind him as he left the room.
Thyatis balanced forward on the balls of her feet. Raw boldness had gotten them this far, and the last of their gold had bought entrance to this room, but now she fretted at the prospect of Jusuf carrying off the last of his little stratagem.
Three days before, sitting on the mud-brick wall of a second-rate caravanserai on the outskirts of the sprawling Persian capital, Thyatis had frowned at the taciturn Northerner.
"My friend," she had said, "do not take it wrongly, but as a matter of course, you are a gloomy fellow. You are brave and quick with a sword or bow-true-but you do not, as a rule, have a sunny disposition. In fact, you have the demeanor of a lemon."
Jusuf, grinning smugly, had remained before her, brown arms crossed over his broad chest. He was grinning particularly at Nikos, who was eyeing him with his usual distaste.
"Well?" Jusuf said. "Here we are, but there are no Armenians to raise up in revolt. Any good we might do to help the Emperors must come from being properly placed in the city when, at last, their armies come before the gates."
The Bulgar turned and pointed off across the roofs of the city. Thousands of whitewashed mud-brick buildings rose up on a low hill at the edge of the Tigris. Above the tenements, on a great raised platform of brick terraces, stood the palace of the King of Kings. Actually, one of three palaces. This one shone in the hot sun like a beacon, its roofs plated with gold and the delicate architecture of its towers and dome a sharp contrast to the crowed narrow streets and dark bazaars of the city.
"What better place to be, when that day comes, than within the Palace of Swans?"
Nikos coughed and made a face at the barbarian. "Thyatis has an unusual fondness for underground places, friend Jusuf, but it does not seem likely to me that the sewers of the Imperial Palace are going to be unguarded. How do you propose getting into the palace, much less at the proper time?"
Jusuf rocked from one foot to the other. His grin, if anything, grew wider. "Because, my good Roman friends, I know someone in the palace. Someone important."
The disbelief on Thyatis' face must have been obvious, for the Bulgar snickered.
"Who?" She did not believe it. There was no way this steppe-rider had a contact in the second biggest city in the world, or within the palace of an Emperor.
"You'll see," Jusuf said, still smiling that big grin. "How much gold do you have left?"
– |The round chamber was softly lit by tall lanterns of copper and amethyst. Deliciously thick carpets covered the floor and spilled through the doorways. No bare wall was visible, save at the edges of the doorways, for heavy tapestries and hangings covered them. Brass chains hanging from the ceiling held more lanterns and the air was touched by the sweet smell of incense. Somewhere, through one of the doorways, a lyre played, a haunting sound pitched low enough to permit quiet conversation.
Jusuf stopped and stood waiting, the richness and subtlety of the furnishings making him seem garish and clumsy in his costume. Thyatis counted doors-three-and eyed the rooms beyond. If anything, they were more gorgeously appointed than this entryway. A severe-looking dark-haired woman dressed in dull gray entered through the doorway on the left. Amid the soft luxury in the rooms, the matron's harsh figure was a shock. She frowned, her face clouding with anger when she saw them.
"You must leave," she said in a clipped voice. "My mistress is not entertaining visitors at this hour." Her voice, though thickened by anger, was naturally melodious and her Persian flawless.
Jusuf bowed, his hands at the sides of his thighs.
"Please, my lady," he said in his best Persian, his voice quietly sincere. "I come from the north and have urgent news for Lady Shirin. I beg you, let me speak with her. My news is for her ears alone."
The woman paused, halting an incipient tirade. Her head cocked to one side. Coupled with the pile of deep black hair pinned up on her head, she reminded Thyatis of a raven eyeing a shining stone. Her eyes narrowed and she nodded. "Very well. I will convey your message and see if the lady will receive you. Wait here."
When the matron had gone, Thyatis whispered: "What news, O mysterious one?"
"You'll see," Jusuf answered, still smiling.
A moment later the matron returned, a trace of puzzlement on her face. She stood in the doorway and motioned them to enter. Once they were past, she drew closed a curtain behind them. Thyatis listened, but could hear no footsteps on the thick carpets.
"Most gracious lady," Jusuf said, bowing deeply, "we are honored by your hospitality."
Thyatis bowed as well, her eyes canvassing the room. The lyre music had stopped.
Half the chamber was walled with glass doors open to a garden of lush flowers and a sward of short-cropped grass. Paper lanterns hung in trees, and their light reflected from an ornamental pool set among mossy stones. The delicate placement of flowers, bushes, and rocks made Thyatis' eyes widen. The gardens around the house of the Duchess seemed poor and ill-made in comparison. This room, these chambers, the garden, all seemed to shimmer with a luxury she had never realized existed. It struck Thyatis that lanterns, carpets, couches, even a goblet of wine on the side table were all the finest that could possibly be acquired.
The woman who had risen, sylphlike, from a pool of warm light and linen pillows matched the room and made it complete. She was of medium height, though her slimness made her seem taller. Gorgeous brown eyes dominated a face of perfect curves and planes. Sleek upswept eyebrows and long lashes framed them. She smiled, her graceful dark lips suggesting laughter and merriment. Wavy dark-brown hair with russet highlights cascaded over smooth olive shoulders and down her back. A rich red gown with a scoop neckline that accentuated her full breasts clung to her body. Thyatis felt a bright spark of jealousy flare in her heart, but then it faded. The woman who returned Jusuf's bow, laughing, her eyes sparkling with joy, could not be hated or reviled, only adored.
"Uncle!" She laughed, her voice husky. "I never thought to see you here, or in such a costume!" She looked upon Jusuf in amazement, and he turned slowly, arms outstretched, showing off his robes. "What could possibly have overcome you to don such frippery?"
Jusuf bowed again, beaming. "I could not come to see my favorite niece without dressing for the occasion! Besides, they would not let me into the palace dressed like a ragamuffin."
A slim-fingered brown hand covered the lady's face as she tried to stifle a laugh. She failed, but then her eyebrows rose in surprise, taking in Thyatis for the first time. The woman stepped past Jusuf and made a graceful bow to the Roman woman, a single lock of her long wavy hair falling in front of her face.
"Uncle, you are remiss! You promised to write me but you never do and now I do not know the name of your wife!"
Thyatis grunted in surprise and touched her face. She had forgotten she was veiled in traditional garb. Jusuf laughed, seeing the movement. The woman spun on her heel, little golden bells tinkling at her ankle.
"Uncle! Do not laugh at me!"
Jusuf held up his hands to ward off the spark of anger in his niece's eyes. "Wait, wait! Your mother has not married me off yet! This is a traveling companion of mine. Please… may I introduce you in the proper manner?"
The niece turned away, her face haughty, her arms crossed under her breasts. "I suppose."
Thyatis grimaced under her veil and tugged at the cloth. It didn't want to unwind. She bent over and untucked the tail of the scarf from her neck.
"My dear, may I present Lady Thyatis Julia Clodia of the House of Clodia?"
Thyatis threw her head back, long golden-red hair spilling out, and brushed the tangle of locks from her face. She breathed a great sigh-it was suffocating in those things. The niece's eyes widened in surprise. Thyatis grinned, her even white teeth flashing in the light of the crystal lanterns.
"Thyatis, my niece, Princess Shirin, the junior wife of Chrosoes, King of Kings. Our host here in the Palace of Swans."
"Pleased to meet you, Princess. Nice place."
Thyatis made a sketchy bow, trying to remember what the Duchess had taught her about foreign royalty. The only thing that came to mind was Anastasia's voice saying and stay out of their bedrooms!
Shirin took a step backward, amazement and anger warring in her face. She placed her hands on her hips and turned to Jusuf, her brow clouded with dismay. "Dear uncle, this woman is a Roman!"
"Yes," Jusuf said with an innocent expression on his face, "so she is."
"You can't bring a Roman into the Palace of Swans! If you hadn't noticed, my husband is at war with the Empire of Rome!"
Jusuf rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful.
"Why," he said slowly, "I believe that you're right. We are at war with Persia."
Shirin, her finger raised and poised for a tirade, stopped, her mouth open. Fear crept into her expression.
"We are at war with Persia?"
"Yes," Jusuf said softly and took Shirin's hand, leading her back to the couch. "We left Tauris weeks ago, but the Roman Emperors and the Khagan were in accord. Even now they may be marching on this city."
Shirin sat heavily, a bleak look on her face. Thyatis looked away and wandered to the doorway to the garden. Behind her, Jusuf also sat down on the couch, holding his niece's slim little hand in both of his.
"The Emperor of the East," Jusuf said, "made an alliance with the Khagan. Ziebil brought forty thousand men into the south with him. The best forty thousand of our warriors. That is why we are here."
"Oh, Jusuf, how could Sahul do this? He promised Chrosoes peace at our wedding! How can he be allied with murderers?"
Thyatis looked around and pinned Jusuf with her gaze. "So… friend Jusuf, you want to explain how our missing companion fits into this?"
Jusuf met her stare but then looked away. Shirin stared at Thyatis with concern.
"Sahul is missing?" Shirin's voice was faint. "Is he dead?"
"No," said Jusuf, slumping back into the couch, "he was as hale and hearty as ever when last I saw him in Tauris." He raised a hand to ward of the explosion about to erupt from Thyatis. "Please, my lady, the Khagan asked me to say nothing to you until he saw you again himself."
"That's a pretty low trick, friend Khazar, to let me think he was dead for all this time!"
"I'm sorry," Jusuf said. "My brother found it relaxing, I think, to be one of your troopers for a while. He didn't want to make your task more difficult in Tauris."
"Surely!" Thyatis spat, "kings usually give orders to centurions, not the other way around!"
"Wait!" Shirin said, holding up both of her hands, jeweled platinum bracelets tinkling. "Tell me the entire story, then the two of you can bicker like crows in a farmyard. Where did you meet and why? Then what happened?"
– |"And then," Thyatis finished, "your uncle got a wild hair and decided to bust into the palace and see someone important." She swirled the wine in her porcelain goblet and then took a long drink. Storytelling was thirsty work. The wine was a joy on her tongue, like rich velvet. Shirin, curled up around a velvet pillow with her small feet tucked under her, stirred under the quilts she had dragged out of a closet.
"You really made Sahul follow your orders," she said sleepily. "And Dahvos and Jusuf? They always ignored me when I was little. He was the worst," she muttered, pointing a long lacquered nail at her uncle, who was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, his back leaning against the end of the couch. "He picked on me all the time and put frogs in my hair."
Thyatis smiled, remembering her own brothers. "That just meant he loved you."
"Maybe." The Princess yawned. "Can I see your sword?"
Thyatis nodded and sat down next to the Princess. She had carried the blade with her into the palace, strapped to her back under the heavy robes. Now it gleamed in the lantern light as she slid it slowly out of the silk-lined sheath. The metal shimmered, the watery surface seemingly filled with glowing light. Shirin traced the patterns with her fingers, but she did not touch the surface of the blade. She fingered the leather hilt, her fingertips tracing the grooves worn by Thyatis' hand.
"It's sleeping," Shirin said, "and warm. Have you killed many men?"
Thyatis returned the blade to its sheath and tugged the leather strap over the hilt to hold it snug. She turned to the Princess, her gray eyes distant and shadowed.
"I've killed men," she said simply. "I take no joy in it."
Shirin hugged a pillow beaded with tiny pearls to her chest, peering over the top at the Roman woman. Thyatis felt a tingle in her arms and stomach when she met the Princess's eyes. They seemed bottomless, a liquid brown, swimming with vulnerability.
"Are you going to kill my husband?"
Jusuf hissed in alarm and began to rise from the floor. Thyatis waved him back down.
"Shirin," she said, "my lord, the Emperor of the West, sent me into Persia to prepare the way for his army. Your husband and my nation are at war. I am beholden to do everything I can to help win this war for my lord. But…"-she paused-"I am not here to murder your husband."
"What will you do, then?" Shirin's voice was even, though Thyatis thought there was a tremor of fear or panic hiding behind it.
The Roman woman shrugged her shoulders at Jusuf. "He's the one who wanted to come see you."
Jusuf levered himself off of the floor and knelt by Shirin, holding her hand. "Little bug, I know you love the King of Kings, but the stories I've heard made me fear for you. I came here, and, yes, Thyatis, I came because of Shirin, not because of your mission, because I thought you might need help."
Shirin stared at her uncle and took her hand back. "My husband has not been well since Maria died." Her hand crept to her face, "He thinks that he is ugly now, scarred and disfigured by the fire."
Thyatis shook her head in puzzlement, saying: "I don't understand. What fire? Who was Maria?"
Jusuf sighed and sat back down. He looked up at Shirin, but she saw only her own fears.
"Maria was the first wife of Chrosoes," he began, "the daughter of the Emperor of the Eastern Empire, Maurice."
"A Roman!" Thyatis said slowly, remembering Galen's words in his tent at Tauris. "How…"
Jusuf glared at her and she shut up. "Please," he said, "let me tell the story. When Chrosoes was a very young man, younger than you, his father-the great king Hormazd-was murdered by one of his generals, Bahram. Chrosoes himself was set up as a puppet king for this warlord, but in time he escaped from Ctesiphon and fled into the north. He would have died in the wilderness, even with the help of his good friend, the Eastern lord Shahr-Baraz, but he had the good luck to stumble upon a camp of the Khazars.
"My brother was the leader of that band of men and took Chrosoes in. When he learned who the boy was, he decided that he would help him. Chrosoes and Baraz traveled with us for a winter and we took them, Sahul and I, to Constantinople. Sahul thought that Chrosoes would find safety in the court of Emperor Maurice.
"At first, we told no one who the Persian boy was, but Sahul gained a private audience with the Emperor's son, Prince Theodosius, and convinced him that with the Empire's aid, a grateful Chrosoes could be restored to the Persian throne. The Prince convinced his father, who became good friends with Chrosoes, and together, they overthrew Bahram."
Jusuf stopped and shook his head in sorrow. "That was a good time. We rode with Chrosoes and Sahul stood at his side when Bahram was killed in the battle outside of Dastagird. That was when Chrosoes met Shirin, in the tents of our people. The boy had already agreed to marry Maurice's daughter Maria to seal the peace between the two empires, but anyone could see that he loved Shirin from the moment he saw her."
The Princess's hand crept out of the covers and Jusuf took it in his own.
"And there was peace," he continued, "until Maurice and all of his children were murdered by the usurper Phocas. That turned Maria against the Empire, I think, to hear that her father and mother and all of her brothers and sisters had been hewn down and their heads paraded in the streets of the capital before cheering crowds. Even when Heraclius overthrew Phocas her mind did not change."
"It is true," Shirin said, her voice muffled by the quilts, "she urged my husband to war upon the Empire and restore the true Emperor to the throne. She had great influence over the King of Kings."
"True Emperor?" Thyatis was careful to seem puzzled.
"Her son, Kavadh-Siroes," Shirin said, "is the only remaining male descendant of Emperor Maurice." Thyatis' eyes widened.
"He has always held me first in his heart," Shirin mused, her voice sad, "but Maria bore him a son first and was very brave, coming with him to live in a foreign land like she did. She was a strong woman."
"What happened? A fire in the palace?"
Shirin shrugged, her face a mask. "No one knows, save Chrosoes and the dark one. The Queen was furious with Lord General Baraz for not having smashed the Eastern Empire in the first year of this war. She struck upon some stratagem with the connivance of the black priest. There was a fire and the River Palace was destroyed. Chrosoes tried to pull her from the flames but it was too late. He bears the scars to this day… my poor husband."
Jusuf smoothed her hair back over her ear and stood up.
"It is very late," he said. "We should all sleep."
"Oh," Shirin said, "you must be tired from your journey. Please, there are couches in the other chamber. You will not be disturbed."
The Princess rose, shedding quilts and pillows. She yawned, stretching her lithe body, and bowed to Thyatis. Jusuf gathered her into his arms and held her close for a long time. Shirin put her head on his chest. Thyatis slipped out of the room into the garden. The air was soft and filled with a heady scent of blooms. The moon rode low in the western sky, but the silver light fell among the trees like dew. It was very peaceful.
The glassed-in doors of the sitting room closed with a click and Thyatis felt Jusuf step into the garden. She turned around and said, "Your niece is very lovely, both inside and out."
"Yes." Jusuf sighed. "We all wished her nothing but happiness."
"Why did Sahul break his treaty with the King of Kings?"
Jusuf shook his head. "I don't know. Shirin always wrote to him regularly, he must have divined something from her letters. Last year he began speaking seriously with the embassies of the Eastern Empire. They gave him many presents, but he spent all of the money on armor and weapons. He feared something, but he never said what. Dahvos and I were very surprised when he declared that he would go to war against his son-in-law."
Thyatis put her hand on Jusuf's shoulder, feeling him start in surprise at the touch.
"My friend," she whispered, "when the time comes, we'll get her out."
Jusuf looked down at his feet. It was hard to tell in the darkness if he was blushing, but Thyatis was sure that he was.
– |Two little brown-skinned children ran past, giggling, their white tunics in disarray and splotched with grass stains. Thyatis smiled, her face shadowed by the broad-brimmed straw hat she wore to keep from burning her nose in the fierce sun. Around her a warm winter day had settled upon the gardens at the center of the Palace of Swans like a comforting blanket. She sipped from a tall, cut-crystal glass filled with lemon juice in water. It was sweet and tart at the same time, delighting her tongue. She sat in a wooden chair at the edge of the grassy sward outside of the domed building that held Shirin's private quarters. The Princesses' children were playing with Anagathios and Nikos.
The Illyrian was hiding in the rosebushes, making growling sounds like a lion. The little girls were shrieking and jumping up and down, hiding behind their brothers, who were giggling and darting forward, daring the lion to pounce on them. Anagathios was bounding about, turning cartwheels and pretending to be afraid of the terrible beast. As Thyatis watched, a callused brown hand snaked out of the bushes and seized the unwary foot of the older of the two boys.
The boy wailed in surprise and beat furiously with his little fists on the dreadful claw. His sisters jumped up and down, yelling in delight, as the lion slowly dragged their brother to his certain doom. The other boy latched onto his brother's head and began trying to drag him back. The Prince started yelling louder as his well-meaning brother had laid hold of his ears. Anagathios became a mighty hunter and leapt into the bushes. A terrible racket began and clods of dirt and leaves flew up. Thyatis reached behind her and touched the sheath of her sword with her fingertips. It was still there. She leaned back in the chair, content to watch the flight of sparrows above the domes of the palace.
Something moving at the edge of her vision drew her attention. Shirin was descending a flight of steps that led down into the garden from the balconies on the second floor of the palace. The Princess moved slowly, one hand on the marble railing. She was dressed in a deeply cut pale-yellow silk gown, long and sheer-almost transparent-with a flocked bottom. Her hair had been done up into a sweeping cloud, shot with golden pins and sparkling amber threads, leaving her long neck bare. Thyatis got up, leaving the glass on the ground, but swinging the sword over her shoulder. She too had changed clothes, adopting a loose blouse of fine white Egyptian cotton and baggy forest-green Armenian pantaloons. Her feet were bare. The children continued to rumpus behind her, scaring a flight of white doves out of the fruit trees.
Shirin had stopped at the bottom of the stairs in a patch of shade. The Princess leaned against the carved wall, her fine olive hand laid against the shoulder of a bearded archer that was shown in silhouette. Thyatis joined her, setting her back to the granite panel. It was cool in the shade. Shirin looked pale and worried.
"What is it?" Thyatis said, her voice soft. The Princess shook her head, though her hands were trembling slightly. Thyatis caught her left hand and turned the Princess to face her. Shirin would not look up. This close, Thyatis could smell her subtle cinnamon perfume.
"Some news of the war?"
Shirin nodded, her hand clenching Thyatis' tightly. She covered her face with the other.
"Bad?"
"There was a great battle in the north." Shirin could barely speak. "The army of the King of Kings was destroyed. All of the captains of the army were slain or captured by the Romans. Even the Boar was killed, or so the messenger said."
Thyatis flinched as the Princess collapsed into her arms, fighting tears. She gingerly put her arms around the crying woman. The Duchess had left this part out of her training.
"The… the King of Kings has heard that Khazars rode with the Roman army against Persia. I…" The princess stopped, unable to continue. Thyatis held her close, relaxing enough herself to allow Shirin to slump against her. The Princess was solid and warm. It felt odd, holding another woman this way. Thyatis wrapped her arms around Shirin, holding her close. "I have been placed under guard. I cannot leave the palace without my husband's permission."
Thyatis tipped Shirin's head back with a finger under her chin. Tears had ruined the artful makeup around her eyes. Thyatis smiled crookedly and wiped the worst smear away with her sleeve.
"Then, Princess, we will have to spirit you away."
"How can he love me yet not trust me? My children and I are prisoners! We will be hostages against my father… why did he do this?"
Thyatis stared at the Princess, trying to decipher which he she was angry with.
"Shirin. Shirin!" Thyatis waited until the Princess had focused on her.
"My lady," she said in a clear, even voice, "abide by the wishes of your husband. When the time is right, my men and I will get you and your children out of the city, safe and sound. But for now, be at peace with your husband. If he suspects you, or suspects that we are here, it will be impossible."
Shirin seemed at last to take notice of what Thyatis was saying and gave her head a little shake. Her eyes cleared and she stood away from Thyatis, wiping her eyes. Her hands lingered on Thyatis' forearms. "Yes, you're right."
Shirin turned and looked into the garden. Nikos was rolling around on the ground with four small laughing figures swarming over him, tickling him. Laughter pealed to the heavens.
"My children will be safe. Thank you, Thyatis."
The Roman woman leaned hack against the cool stone, biting her lip. That was clever. Now what? She wondered. Four noisy kids, all of us, plus the Princess and probably a gang of servants in tow as well… I should have kept the circus wagon.
– |"So," Nikos said in a slow drawl, "our original mission was to whack or bag this boy Prince-Kavadh-but now, in midstream, you want to change horses." He made a wry face and stared at Thyatis. She shrugged, sitting in the cool gloom under the trees in the back of the garden. Her back was to a mossy wall of old stones. Little yellow flowers grew out of the cracks.
"You can see what the Princess means to Jusuf. You heard the same news I did. The King of Kings made his big throw, and it failed. Now the two Emperors are moving south at all speed. Within a month they'll be here and then things will get ugly."
Nikos nodded, but he did not let go of his point either. "Centurion-I think the heat is getting to you. Our mission is to bag the kid. Jusuf has done us a hell of a favor, getting us in here on his niece's word, but she is not the mission."
"Nikos." Thyatis sat up a little straighter, her hands cupping her left knee. The other leg was out straight in front of her. "Jusuf is our friend. He has stood with us in dark places. We are Shirin's guests here. We owe them assistance."
Nikos was still frowning; he did not like changes like this. They just made more trouble later. Maybe a lot of trouble. Still, his commander seemed set, and there was something about the tightness of her lips that said she had already made up her mind.
"Centurion," he said formally, "are you changing the mission?"
Thyatis sighed and scratched the side of her nose.
"Yes," she said softly, "I am changing the mission. Now the mission is to spirit Princess Shirin and her children and ourselves out of the palace at the soonest opportunity."
"All right," Nikos nodded, his sense of decorum satisfied. "Good by me."
Thyatis shook her head. Some days the Illyrian gave her a headache.
"The first thing we have to do," she said, "is get the other Khazars into the palace. We need more hands for this, particularly those snaggle-toothed ruffians."
– |"I will go," said Jusuf, his grim expression clamped back on his long face. He, Thyatis, and Nikos were sitting in the small room that Shirin had given the Roman woman for her own. By the standards of the palace, it was small and cramped, which meant that it was big enough for an entire lochaghai of legionnaires to camp in and only featured one window. The window, however, looked out over a rooftop with no view of any kind, which was why Thyatis had gladly accepted it. Too, it was tucked away at the end of the hallway.
The Khazar Prince refused to sit and was pacing restlessly on the tiled floor. Nikos was sitting on the bed, his back against the wall, eating a pomegranate. Thyatis glared at him and the Illyrian stopped spitting the little pits behind the headboard. Thyatis looked up at the Khazar as he passed her again. She had taken the lone chair and was sharpening and oiling one of her daggers.
"And if you get caught?" she asked. "Everyone in the palace will know that you were plotting to get your niece out and she and the children will wind up in the pits under the palace."
Nikos spit, the seed sailing through the open window.
"No pits," he said with a finger in his mouth to dig out another seed from between his teeth. "They put 'em in a tower over by the river-they call it the Tower of Darkness-'cause once you go in, you never see the sun again. Grim-looking place, all dark stone and funny-looking stains."
"Then who?" Jusuf snapped, turning back to face Thyatis. "You? Him? The same problem applies-if they question the servants, then they'll know that we're the guests of the Princess. We're safe here only while no one knows we're here!"
Thyatis smiled, her best shark-grin. "Silly boy. Of course not. We send an expert."
Nikos looked up, his face pinched in surprise. He had expected to take care of it.
"I'll send Anagathios. He came into the palace dressed as a woman, so no one will be able to match him up with us, and they can't really make him talk, can they?"
"An actor!" Jusuf fairly spit he was so angry. "You'll send an actor to do a man's job? This is ludicrous."
Thyatis stood up, the long knife glittering naked in her hand. The look on her face brought Jusuf up short. "Listen, Prince, we do this kind of thing for a living, so why don't you just let us carry on? And another thing, Anagathios is twice the man either of you are, and I should know. So until you can perform as well as he can, stay off the stage!"
Jusuf stepped back from the snap in her voice and the angry gleam in her eye. He raised his hands in surrender. "Pax! Enough, you want to send the pretty boy, send him. I'll tell Shirin what we're about."
"No," Thyatis said in a flat voice. "No one knows but the three of us."
"Hey," Nikos said, sitting up from the bed. "Anagathios is twice the man either of us is?"
"At least," Thyatis said primly. There was a wicked gleam in her eye. Nikos held his thumbs up and looked at them, whistling. Jusuf stared from him to Thyatis and back again.
"What?" He sounded petulant.
Thyatis just laughed.
– |"You wanted to see me, Princess?"
Shirin looked up and smiled to see Thyatis at the door of her sewing room. The Princess put aside a piece of lace she had been working on and beckoned for the Roman woman to enter. Thyatis sat down on the end of the couch and clasped her hands in front of her.
"Yes. Lord Zarmihr came to the city yesterday when I was summoned to the presence of the King of Kings. I had never met this lord before; he is from the far eastern provinces of Tokharistan. He had been upon the field of Kerenos in the north, where the army gathered by Gundarnasp was broken by the Two Emperors."
Thyatis perked up, her whole attention focusing on the princess. Shirin seemed oddly at peace, her features calm and her voice light.
"This was the first witness of the battle to reach the capital. He had ridden very hard, killing many horses. It was as had been rumored. The Boar was laid low and his standard captured. All of the great lords and captains were killed or taken by the enemy. Of the two hundred thousand men who marched north, only a few thousands escaped to the south. Gundarnasp fell, as did Lord Rhazames and many others known to me."
"And the Roman army?" Thyatis held her breath.
"Messengers came too from Nineveh in the north, on Tigris. The Romans are only a few weeks away. They must have marched swiftly to reach the warm lands before winter closed the passes in the north. The governor of Nineveh has ordered the bridges over the rivers and canals destroyed."
Shirin paused, staring at Thyatis with that same calm look.
"What else?" Thyatis asked, disturbed by the princess' equanimity.
"No Khazars have come south with the Roman army. Zarmihr saw that many barbarians were in the army of the two Emperors but did not know their banners. The King of Kings questioned him closely as to the presence of my kinsmen, but Zarmihr saw none of them."
Thyatis pursed her lips and considered the Princess, who looked down, her face lit from within by a smile, and resumed stitching. "You are free to leave the palace again?"
"No," Shirin said, looking up briefly, her lips in a moue, "but soon I will be. My husband will soon be at ease. The magistrates and lords who whisper to him will have nothing to say. My children will be safe."
"You see no reason," Thyatis said slowly, considering her words carefully, "to leave the palace in secret, with your uncle and me?!"
"Oh, no," the Princess said. "Within the month things will be as usual again."
The Roman woman rubbed her nose, thinking, then rose. "My lady, this is excellent news. I will tell your uncle and we will make preparations to take our leave. I am sorry you had a fright."
"Oh"-Shirin laughed-"it's nothing! In a few days you'll be able to leave peacefully."
– |"Talk to me," Thyatis said, her voice clipped, once more mewed up in her room with Nikos, Jusuf, and Anagathios. "What are the servants and slaves saying?"
Nikos frowned, his broad face grim. He exchanged looks with Anagathios. "It is very bad. 'Gathios saw three of the lesser nobles leave today with their families. Those were the smart ones. More will be slipping out tonight. The word in the baths is that the King of Kings has slipped right over the edge. He declared that this disaster at the Kerenos is only a minor setback. He collared two of the remaining big hats here and sent them off to raise a new army from the citizens of the polis. He wants a hundred thousand men."
Jusuf snorted, shaking his head. "If two hundred thousand men were slaughtered up north, there aren't another hundred thousand fighting men in the whole empire. What is this King of nothing going to do, arm the slaves?"
Nikos face settled into grimmer lines. "Women and children is what I heard. Kitchen knives and sharpened poles. Whatever they can find in the city. Old men too, I'd imagine."
"Will they do it?" Thyatis said, her fingers twitching on the hilt of her sword. "Are they afraid enough of Chrosoes to drive the citizens out into the fields to face Galen?"
Jusuf laughed at her, but his voice was trembling.
"Nikos, are the palace guards and city watch enough to do that?"
The Illyrian met her eyes and shook his head. "No, there are only a handful of guardsmen left-maybe a hundred-and the city watch isn't going to drive their families out onto the swords of the legions. Besides"-and he smiled a little, his lip curling up-"the two nobles set to this task have already bolted. They left everything behind, concubines and all, and shot out of the city like a stone from a mangonel."
"Good." Thyatis stared out the window, her eyes distant. "I promised Shirin I would not kill her husband." She turned to the Syrian. Anagathios, she signed, are you sure about this water gate in your hidden garden?
The actor shrugged, his hands languid as doves in the close air of her room."
You didn't ask the Princess? he replied.
No, I was going to ask her today, but now we'll have to do it without her help.
Then I cannot say for sure. It seems that the garden is part of the King of Kings personal quarters and the lower gate must lead down to the water side. But without getting a boat and checking the bank, I cannot say.
Thyatis punched her thigh in frustration. Jusuf and Nikos, who had only caught a little of the quick conversation, watched her in concern.
"Everything is a bad bet," she snarled. "So we go for the Venus throw. Nikos, get everything and everyone ready-quietly-for a quick exit. Jusuf, you have to stick to Shirin like glue. When things finally come loose around here it's going to be very ugly. We don't want to lose her or the children in the confusion. 'Gathios-you've got to find a better way into that garden. I don't think Shirin is going to be able to climb down a drain like the rest of us."
She stood up. The three men nodded. "Good, get to it."
After they were gone, she stood at the window, clicking the sword in and out of its sheath. The sky was turning dusky purple. The rooftops were already steeped in darkness. She sighed, rubbing her nose. Sahul, why didn't you come south? What happened in the north?