It was not unlike being on a battlefield again with the clamor, the confusion, the crush of men working frantically, half hidden in smoke and darkness, shouting, cursing. Horses whickered and snorted, terrified by the fire and noise.
John’s shovel might have been a sword. He wielded it until his muscles were on fire and his breath came in searing gasps.
At last, despite all efforts, the roof of the Chalke caved in, sending a fountain of embers swirling upwards.
As a pillar of smoke rose into the sky, John could hear the roar of mob outside, exulting in the destruction. Above the shouts of the fire fighters and the crackling and popping of flames he could make out words.
“Nika! Burn them all! Heaven’s will shall be done!”
He shivered. The moment his shovel was still he was cold. Sweat poured down his sides. He realized the wind had shifted. Now it carried the chill from the sea rather than the heat from the burning city.
The multitude continued to chant but the rising wind blew their anger back at them and blew the fire away from the palace.
John leaned, exhausted, on his shovel. “Thank Mithra,” he muttered to himself.
Chapter Eighteen
“The Lord sent a miracle, changing the wind like that,” Haik told John. “Then again, my aching muscles insist on taking some of the credit for saving the palace.”
He grimaced as he turned his chair to better see out the doorway which opened onto the portico surrounding John’s overgrown garden. The room John’s guest had been given was near the back of the house, across the interior courtyard from the suite being used by the Anastasius family.
Haik sat at the small bedside table and poured the obligatory wine. Wine, John thought, was as much a prerequisite to conversation as opening one’s mouth. The first cup did little to wash away the taste of ashes.
“Maybe you should leave the city before it burns down around you,” Haik said. “Start afresh. Come back to Antioch with me. You know the area. It doesn’t get so chilly.”
John could feel a draught from the open door eddying around his boots. The air smelled of smoke, but not so strongly as his clothing did. “I’m not fond of the cold. I’ve suffered worse. Constantinople isn’t Bretania.”
John could see that Haik was studying him. The light from the oil lamp beside the wine jug threw unnatural shadows up around his old colleague’s face, accentuated the great beak-like nose, made him more than ever resemble a bird of prey.
“I’m not shocked to find you in such a high position, John. When we served together, you always struck me as a deep thinker.”
“Back then? I ran away from Plato’s Academy to fight.”
“There was definitely a stoic air about you.”
“Just as well, as it turned out.”
Haik shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to bring up-”
“You didn’t. Some things are never far from one’s mind. I try not to dwell on. It is only the thinking about it that is distressing now.”
“See, you are a philosopher.”
“So my old tutor Philo used to say. In truth, when I was younger I thought philosophy was only good for amusing children who hadn’t gone out into the world and consoling old men who were done with it.”
“Now you know better.”
“I know it is very dangerous to be a philosopher at the emperor’s court.”
“More dangerous than being an emperor’s advisor? What if Justinian doesn’t survive this uprising? What would your future be like then?”
“Very short, no doubt.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Every morning that we pulled on our boots to march to battle we knew we might be face down in the dirt by the time the sun set.”
Something moved in the garden. A night bird, or the wind swirling around the courtyard, swaying a branch.
“You’re right,” said Haik. “That seems a very long time ago. I guess I was braver then. Maybe we only have so much courage and I’ve used all mine up.”
“I doubt that. You were as good a fighter as any of us. It is hard for me to see you as an estate owner rather than a soldier.”
“It suits me, John. I took enough orders when I was a fighter. And I like having my fate in my own hands. Isn’t it vexing to have your fate tied to one man? Even if Justinian survives this crisis, there’s sure to be another. And suppose he dies in his bed? What happens to his advisors when the new emperor takes control?”
“Nothing drastic necessarily. Look at Hypatius. He’s served both Justin and Justinian. Not only was he a favorite of Emperor Anastasius, he was a family member. If Hypatius hadn’t been in charge of the armies in the east, far away from the capital, when his uncle died, he would have been proclaimed emperor rather than Justin.”
“And then Justin couldn’t have made his own nephew, Justinian, his successor. Does the throne descend through nephews now?”
John smiled slightly. “You see my point, though. Emperors need experienced men.”
“Even if they are experienced at failure? Everyone says his military record was dismal. Justinian removed him as eastern commander and replaced him with Belisarius hardly three years ago, you’ll recall. He might bear a grudge. Doesn’t that make him a threat to Justinian now?”
“Justinian might think so. But I can assure you, Hypatius wants no part of being emperor. I suspect he has made a realistic assessment of his own abilities.”
“As opposed to just being a coward.” Haik turned away from John to peer into the garden. John heard what had caught his attention, a rustling sound, like a rodent scurrying through dead leaves. The wind had grown even stronger. A gust of frigid air blew into the room.
Haik got up stiffly and shut the door.
“What about your own profession?” John said. “It would worry me if my life depended on pistachios.”
“They’re more reliable than an unpopular emperor. Need barely any water. Live practically forever. On a quiet night, if you stand under a tree which has reached perfect maturity, you can hear the sound of the shells bursting open. That’s said to bring the listener good fortune.”
“There was a time when I dreamed of simply owning a farm.”
“Why not now?”
“My life has changed.” He did not add that he had dreamt of sharing his life with Cornelia. Where was she? Still touring with the troupe? Was she alive? Even if he had some way to find her they could no longer share a life together, given what had happened. The city was preferable for the solitary creature he had become. The crowds, the noise and danger, kept him from slipping away completely from the rest of mankind.
“And you must have resources, considering the position you hold,” Haik was saying. “Buy a small estate. You can grow anything you want. Breed horses. Or we could be partners.”
“There are days when I might almost consider what you suggest.”
“Such as the day Justinian flees the city? If you were to purchase some land, now, then you’d have a place to go. It might be too late for that, but you could at least make sure you have enough of your assets in gold, ready for transport.”
“Are you preparing to replace Justinian yourself, Haik? You sound convinced that his days-and mine-are numbered.”
“I’m just going by what I’ve seen since I arrived. Riots, fires, the factions rising up together. It’s not like this in the city all the time is it?”
John laughed, without humor. “It is usually much more restful, although hardly bucolic.” He put his wine cup down. “I need to get some sleep, my friend. As far as I know Justinian is still the emperor and I am still under orders to investigate the murders of those two faction members.”
“Have you learned anything useful?”
“I may have, but if so, I haven’t recognized it yet. Maybe Porphyrius will know something helpful. After that exhibition of his at the races, I want to talk to him.”
Haik frowned. “Talk to Porphyrius? Surely you don’t suspect him of anything? He was just trying to be even-handed, or so I’ve heard.”