I bowed in return, accepting that. If he did give me the aid I needed to regain my throne, I would indeed owe him a great debt, and would be honor-bound to repay it. And if he did not\a160… in that case, how would I see Constantinople again?
Ibouzeros Gliabanos put me up in a tent near the palace. This was no insult, most folk in Atil, as I have said, inhabiting such dwelling places. I was fed well, if curiously, on rice and fish. Rice is a grain grown in the moist soil of the delta thereabouts, and eaten in porridges and stews and casseroles, as it lends itself to being baked in loaves even less well than oats.
I thought I would despair at having to eat fish again, but the smoked, tender flesh of the sturgeon bore little resemblance to the dried fish I had for so long endured at Kherson. The Khazars also preserve the eggs of the sturgeon in salt, a delicacy for which I was slower to acquire a taste, but one of which I eventually grew quite fond.
The khagan having granted me freedom to travel in the city, I crossed the Volga to the eastern half, where the larger half of the population and most of the merchants dwelt. The Khazars sell slaves, honey, wax, furs, and isinglass, all but the last of which are imported into their country from the even more barbarous lands to the north. In exchange, they buy cloth and finished clothing, as well as wine and fine sword blades, though their own smiths produce the ordinary sort.
Ibouzeros Gliabanos was himself a pagan, though among his advisers he numbered pagans of his own erroneous creed, followers of the false prophet, a handful of Christians, and some Jews as well. He was permitted, and he made full use of, a company of twenty-five wives and more than twice that number of concubines. Though not providing entertainment on such a lavish scale to his guests, he did see to it we lacked no companionship we desired.
We got on well, he and I. He invited me to dine with him at the palace more than once. At one of these affairs, he said, "I envy you the spirit that lets you go on seeking what was taken from you. If that happened to me, I hope I would do the same."
"I think you would," I told him, not altogether insincerely.
"I hope so," he repeated, frowning into his wine cup. "I wish I could do all I want to help you. The other Emperor of the Romans\a160…" His voice trailed away.
"Is a usurper," I said.
He nodded. "Yes. But he is also strong and rich. The Roman Empire obeys him."
"If I took the throne from him, the Roman Empire would again obey me." I spoke with confidence, and why not? If the Roman Empire had bowed to the wishes of Leontios, it would obey anyone set over it.
The khagan drank more wine, then ran his tongue over his lips. "Once you were in Constantinople, far from Atil, you would forget your friendship for the Khazars. I would have no hold on you but gratitude, and gratitude is worth its weight in gold." Yes, he was a ruler of men.
"I will give you any oath you like," I promised. "I would not risk my soul by promising falsely. You must believe that."
"Why must I?" he said, a question that, while imperfectly polite, was very much to the point. He plucked one of the long hairs from his unkempt beard. "I need a way to bind you to me."
"You do not trust my oath?" I did my best to sound injured and offended. In Ibouzeros Gliabanos's place, I should have placed no faith in oaths, either, but I would have let myself be given over to his torturers before admitting as much. I drank more wine myself. The khagan, disdaining the fermented mare's milk of his people, imported fine vintages from Kherson, the Caucasus, and Romania.
He studied me, then found another question, one I had not expected: "Have you a wife back in Constantinople, Justinian?"
"I am a widower," I answered. Poor Eudokia was by then sixteen or seventeen years dead: almost half my life. I had not forgotten her- I shall never forget her, of course- but I did not think of her every day, either.
"I know you Christians are allowed only one at a time, poor fellows," Ibouzeros Gliabanos said, "but even the rules of your religion let you marry again if that wife dies, is it not so?"
"Certainly it is so. Why do you ask?"
"I think," the khagan said slowly, "I think I may have a way to bind you to me as you should be bound. One of my younger sisters, you see, has not yet been pledged in marriage to any man\a160…"
My mouth fell open. I stared at him. He smiled back, looking pleased at his own cleverness. And, indeed, from his point of view, the ploy was nothing less than brilliant. Were I to become his brother-in-law, I would be far less likely to go against his interests, for in so doing I should be harming my own kin.
Well and good. I took another pull at my wine while mulling over the other side of the nomisma. Could I, I asked myself, stomach being wed to a barbarian princess? I had come to the Khazars because they were strong, not because they were civilized. I had not expected Ibouzeros Gliabanos (he being, as I say, a barbarian) to come up with a scheme an Emperor of the Romans might have admired. I did admire it, and should have admired it even more had it not put me in such a predicament.
I said, "I will not- I cannot- marry any woman who is not of my faith. This is not only because I am a Christian myself, but also because the Romans would never accept an Emperor with a pagan wife." The khagan had to know that was true. I hoped it would suffice to release me from the trap he had set.
"We have Christians and Christian priests here in Atil," he said placidly, "and you brought one with you, even if we did not. She will become a Christian: I see it is needful. Her name, you should know, is Tzitzak."
"Tzitzak," I echoed. I looked down into my wine cup. It still had wine in it. I drained it, filled it, and drained it again. The chamber in which Ibouzeros Gliabanos, Barisbakourios, and I sat began to spin. "Tzitzak," I repeated. It sounded like the noise a small, hungry finch might make. I looked over at the khagan, who sat waiting courteously to see what I would do. Despite that courtesy, I knew he would not aid me if I said him nay. I tried to bow while sitting cross-legged, and almost fell forward onto my face. Having no choice and knowing it, I said, "I am honored to have you for my brother-in-law."
His face lit up. I think he, knowing something of Roman pride, had expected me to reject the offer even if that meant I should never see Constantinople again. That I did not gave him some clue as to the depth of my desire to regain what was and is rightfully mine, thought to this day I do not think he grasps it in fullness. He put both hands to his mouth and shouted for a slave: "More wine!"
Those words of the Khazar tongue I learned quite well that night: he and I both used them again and again over the next several hours. At the end of that time, the khagan slumped over sideways and began to snore. He and I had had nothing intelligible to say to each other for some little while, Barisbakourios having passed out before either of us.
I got to my feet, surprised to discover I could do so. Weaving down the halls from one wall to another like a ship making a series of tacks against the wind, I made my stumbling way out of the palace and to my tent. Barbarians though they were, the Khazars, as a result of their living in nomadic fashion, had great skill with tents, and the one with which they had furnished me was nearly as luxurious, in their fashion, as the pavilions in which I dwelt while on campaign at the head of the armies of the Roman Empire.
Instead of excubitores, two Khazar guards stood before the entranceway. They nodded to me; I was their charge if not their sovereign. After considerable fumbling, I succeeded in lifting the flap and going inside. There was an excubitor in there: he was snoring, as a matter of fact. I shook him.