Myakes' first move was to grab for the sword lying beside him. "Congratulate me!" I said, causing him to arrest the motion.
"Why is that?" he asked sourly. "For falling into a wine jar?" He was always testy on being suddenly awakened.
"No, for pledging my troth," I answered.
"Emperor, you're very drunk," he said, whic h, God knows, was true. "Tell me about this in the morning, if you remember any of it then. My bet is, you won't." He pulled a sheepskin up over his head, trying to go back to sleep.
I shook him again. He said something not becoming to my imperial dignity, something pungent enough I wish I could have remembered it come morning. I said, "I am going to be wed. Her name is-" I hiccuped, not, actually, a bad approximation of Tzitzak.
It might not have been a bad approximation, but it was not good enough, either. "Her name is what?" Myakes said from under the sheepskin.
"Tzitzak," I said carefully, managing to get it right this time.
Getting it right did me little good: "Sleep it off, Emperor," Myakes urged, and rolled over onto his side.
"She is the sister of Ibouzeros Gliabanos, khagan of the Khazars," I said, taking some little while to do so: being as drunk as I was, I spoke at about half one's usual speed to make sure Myakes understood me.
He did. He sat up again, letting the sheepskin fall where it would. "You're going to marry the khagan's sister, Emperor?" he repeated. I nodded, and wished I had not, the motion already being enough to make my head ache. Myakes whistled softly; he could see the implications in that. "And once you do, he'll help you?"
"So he says," I replied. "If he will not help his brother-in-law, whom will he help?" Myakes might have answered me. I do not know. The next thing I remember, it was morning.
MYAKES
I don't think I've ever seen anyone so drunk as Justinian was that night, Brother Elpidios. Believe me, that's saying something, too. You make your life as a soldier, you'll run into a lot of people who can pour down the wine. Justinian, though, I'm just amazed he woke up the next morning to remember anything. How did he get from the palace to that tent? Divine providence, you ask me.
And do you know, Brother, from that day to this I've never figured out whether Justinian got that drunk because he was glad he'd finally get the help he'd wanted for so long or because he was disgusted that he'd have to marry a Khazar to finally get the help he'd wanted for so long.
Matter of fact, I was hoping he'd tell me, but he doesn't, not really, does he? Maybe he didn't know himself. Maybe it was both at once. Here in the monastery, life is simple. It's not like that out past the walls.
When I did wake, I wished I would die. I had not spewed up any of the wine I drank the night before, which meant it all remained inside to finish the job of poisoning me. I staggered out of the tent in search of cool, fresh air. In finding it, though, I also found the sun. It sank spears of agony into my head through my eyes.
A new set of Khazar guards stood outside the tent. They had no trouble figuring out what was wrong with me and, I being merely a visitor and not their Emperor, they made scant effort to hide their mirth.
Most of the guards Ibouzeros Gliabanos gave me understood some Greek. This was for his benefit, not mine, but I used it then. "Cabbage," I croaked piteously. "Can you get me a raw cabbage and pure cold water?"
They found me a cabbage. The water came from the nearby river. It was not very cold and tasted of mud, but it had to do, there being no other. I methodically devoured the entire cabbage, washing it down with long draughts of the water. After a while, my headache and the remaining symptoms of imminent bodily dissolution receded.
Presently, Barisbakourios came out of the khagan's palace and toward the tents where my companions and I were quartered. He looked the way I felt, though rather worse. Seeing me, he said, "Emperor, do I rightly remember that-?"
"You do indeed," I answered. "How is the khagan?"
"Wretched," he answered succinctly. I smiled in much the same way as I had done on learning of Leontios's mutilation: misery does indeed love company.
One of the guards was a decent soul. Without being asked, he fetched the same cure for Barisbakourios as he had for me. While Barisbakourios was imitating a rabbit in a farmer's garden, Cyrus emerged from his tent, rubbing his eyes. I daresay our chatter had awakened him. At the sight of him, that part of my hangover the cabbage had not cured did disappear. "Just the man I was looking for!" I exclaimed, which was true, even if I had not known it until he came before my eyes. Ibouzeros Gliabanos had said there were Christian priests in Atil, but here was my own loyal follower. "I shall want you first to save a soul by converting a pagan to Christianity and then to yoke the two of us together in marriage."
Cyrus might not have drunk too much wine the night before, but he had not been awake long, and his wits still moved slowly. "You want me to- what?" he said, and dug a finger in his ear, as if certain he could not have heard rightly.
I explained. Then I explained again, for Stephen and Theophilos came out of their tens and also had to be brought up to date. Myakes kept on sleeping. But then, of course, he had already heard the news.
Cyrus's eyes glowed. "Emperor, this is the best news I have heard for you since\a160…" His voice trailed away. In the long years of my exile, bits of good news had been few and far between.
I found one, though: "This is the best news I have had since I got my nose back." I touched the member I had named. That put into my mind the thought of another member. "Going through with this will be more enjoyable than that was, too."
Everyone laughed except Cyrus, who permitted himself a smile. Then he said, "Emperor, I shall go the the palace now, to see what arrangements need be made to bring the young woman to our true and holy orthodox faith. I promise I shall be most diligent in instructing her, too, that the marriage may be celebrated as quickly as possible."
"That is good," I told him. "After you meet her, will you do one other thing for me?" He nodded, plainly anxious to please. Being anxious myself, I blurted out my question: "Will you tell me if she's pretty?"
Until such time as Tzitzak was baptized into the holy and saving Christian faith, I could not wed her, nor, by the customs of the Khazars (which are in this regard even more stringent than our own), even set eyes on her. I waited with such patience as I could muster: more, perhaps, than I had possessed before my exile, but no great amount nonetheless. Having concluded the bargain with Ibouzeros Gliabanos, I wanted it sealed.
As he had vowed, Cyrus did teach Tzitzak our beliefs at the best pace he could manage, finding her a willing pupil. The wife of a Roman merchant in Atil served as his interpreter, as chaperone, and also as another witness to the truths inherent in our creed.
"She is ready to be baptized, and to take a proper Christian name in place of the heathen appellation with which she was born," Cyrus said after what seemed forever but was in fact a matter of about three weeks. "Have you any suggestions, Emperor, for what that name might be? Zoe, perhaps, symbolizing the new life she is beginning? Or Anastasia, to honor your mother?"
This question having been in my mind since not long after Ibouzeros Gliabanos proposed the marriage alliance, I had an answer ready: "Neither of those, Cyrus. No, if it please her, let her be called Theodora."
"\a160'The gift of God,'\a160" Cyrus said, and nodded in agreement. "That is indeed a fitting name for a convert to the holy and orthodox faith, and-" He broke off, his eyes widening, and began again in a new tone of voice: "And she will bear the name of the first Justinian's consort."
"Just so. If I am named for the great Emperor, let her name recall that of his great Empress. You are a learned man, Cyrus; speak to her somewhat of the first Justinian's Theodora, that she may gain some understanding of the fame and honor accompanying the name."