"And why is that?" wondered the eparch, laying aside the parchment he was reading.
"We have had pledges and assurances before, but it has not stopped the predation."
"Are you suggesting the amir has lied to us, or deceived us in some way?"
"Not in the least," answered the komes quickly. "I am as certain as you are that Amir Sadiq is a just and honourable man."
"Then what are you suggesting?" The eparch glared at Nikos. "Come now! Be quick about it. You proposed to speak plainly-do so!"
"I am simply suggesting," Nikos said with elaborate patience, "that the news of our achievement may not receive the welcome it rightly deserves."
"And why should you imagine that?" snapped the eparch, already dismissing the komes from his mind, if not from the room. He turned back to the parchment he had been perusing.
"For the simple reason that no one will believe it."
The eparch glanced up from his work, regarded Nikos, then said, "Ridiculous."
"Is it?" countered the komes quickly. "Who will be the first to test the soundness of the treaty? If I were a merchant, I do not think I would be overeager to risk life and livelihood on the naked assurance of…" He hesitated.
"Say it, komes," demanded the eparch. "On the naked assurance of a silly old man. That is what you were going to say, is it not?"
"To risk life and livelihood on the assurances of an unknown Arab emissary," corrected Nikos smoothly. "It seems to me that without additional surety, shall we say, the agreement we take back with us will be seen as yet another empty promise offered by the duplicitous Muhammedans-a promise ordained to be broken as soon as the first trade vessels leave the Bosphorus."
This arrested the eparch's attention. He raised his head slowly and turned to the komes. "Yes, I am listening. What do you propose?"
"A simple demonstration," answered Nikos.
"A demonstration," the eparch intoned flatly. "What sort of demonstration do you have in mind, komes?"
"A journey, nothing more."
The eparch's mouth turned down at the corners. "I am disappointed, komes. I expected something much more creative and intelligent from you." Flicking his hand dismissively, Nicephorus said, "It is out of the question. You are too late with your anxious worries. We are leaving as soon as the ships are provisioned and ready. The merchants are anxious to return to Constantinople, and so am I. The emperor is waiting."
"It need be nothing very elaborate, or very far," continued Nikos as if he had not heard the eparch's decision. "What better way to announce the success of the treaty than to declare before the emperor and the assembled merchant princes that you personally have inaugurated the new peace with a journey over one of our more troubled trade routes, and found it to be completely satisfactory?"
The eparch regarded Nikos closely; I had seen the same look on the face of a man trying to determine the age of the horse he was buying. "You have a destination in mind, I presume?"
"The short journey to Theodosiopolis should suffice. It would take only a few days, and amply serve the purpose."
The eparch considered this, tapping his fingertips together. Finally, he said, "It is a meritable idea, Komes Nikos. I think you should do it-"
"Good," replied Nikos swiftly. "I will make the arrangements at once."
"On your own," continued the eparch, more forcefully. "That would allow me to stay here and prepare for next year's council. The governor is expected in a few days, and I could greet him and relate the details of our agreement. It would be time well spent. You go."
"But I am not the eparch," Nikos pointed out. "I could not-"
"It makes no difference. The journey is largely symbolic anyway. It will carry the same significance whether I go along or not."
Komes Nikos seemed about to make an objection; I could almost see the protest forming on his lips. But he checked himself and said, "Very well. If that is your decision."
"That is my decision," replied Nicephorus precisely.
"I shall leave in the morning. Good day to you, eparch." He turned suddenly and, for the first time, saw me standing just inside the doorway. His face stiffened; he crossed the room in quick, long strides. "Beware, meddling priest," he whispered under his breath as he passed. "Beware."
"Ah, Aidan, you are here," called the eparch, beckoning me to enter. "The day has grown cold. I am chilled to the bone."
Unfolding the cloak, I placed it around his shoulders. "I could light the brazier," I offered.
"Too much bother," he said. "I will not stay out here much longer. The light is failing." He looked at the doorway, as if expecting to see Nikos standing there. "Did you hear what he said?"
"Yes, eparch."
"What do you think?"
"I know nothing of these matters," I answered.
"But you know Nikos," the eparch pointed out. "You know him and, what is more, you distrust him-as do I." Nicephorus paused, ordering his thoughts. "I distrust him because I do not know where his true loyalties lie. He is ambitious, I believe. Many young men are ambitious, and I have seen more than my share; but in our friend Nikos, ambition serves an end I cannot see." Turning stiffly to me, he asked, "Was he lying, do you think?"
"You would know better than I, eparch," I answered. Suspicion, Justin had said, is the knife in your sleeve and the shield at your back.
"I think we must assume that he was. But if so, I cannot see any possible gain in it-for him or anyone else. Can you?"
"No, eparch." Even as I answered I felt the creeping damp of the prison cell I had seen in my dream. I shivered and looked around me; the courtyard had grown dim as daylight waned. "It is getting dark. Shall I not light the brazier for you?"
"No, no, that will not be necessary," said the eparch, rising. "I am going to my room." He folded the parchment and tucked it under his arm as he started for the door. "Walk with me, Aidan."
I fell into step beside him and we entered the corridor. "I do not know how you came to be slave to the Danes," he said, "but I want you to know that I intend speaking to the emperor on our return."
"Eparch?"
"About your freedom, son," he said in a fatherly tone. "It would be a sad waste of your talents to spend the rest of your life translating Greek for barbarians. We must do something about that, I think."
"Thank you, eparch," I replied, for I could think of nothing else to say.
"We had best keep this between ourselves for now," he cautioned. "It would be less awkward when the time comes."
"Of course."
"Tell Flautus that I will take my meal in my room," the eparch instructed. "I have had enough of celebration feasts for awhile." We had reached his door; he opened it and dismissed me. "Oh, Aidan," he said calling me back, "would you ask Jarl Harald to place a guard at my door tonight? I think I would sleep a little better for it."
"Yes, eparch; at once."
He thanked me and I took my leave, going straight-away to find Harald and arrange for the guard. Taking the eparch's concern to heart, I also remained out of sight that night, behaving as a dutiful slave and staying close to Harald. But nothing happened, and the house remained quiet. I went to sleep thinking: Nikos departs tomorrow and we will not have to worry about him any more.
The next day, Nikos prepared to leave, leading a group of thirty barbarian guards and a dozen opportunistic traders desirous of an escorted journey to Theodosiopolis. He spoke briefly to the eparch and left the villa, where-upon Nicephorus went in to break fast in his customary fashion. I served him at table whenever I could so that I might remain privy to his affairs.