‘Oh, come now, Shahin dearest,’ I drawled in Persian, ‘the girl is worthless. I picked her up this morning in one of the poor districts. Instead of threatening to pollute yourself with her murder, just put her ashore. You might then explain what you want with me.’ When you’re in the charge of a man like Shahin, the best reaction to being stark bollock naked is to carry on as if fully dressed. I cleaned my fingers on a napkin and reached lazily for the wine jug. ‘Go on,’ I urged — ‘this is a very little boat for carrying even the pair of us to Beirut. Three’s a proper crowd.’ I put my face downward and looked up at him. I thought about simpering but decided that could wait.
‘Get on your feet, Alaric,’ he snarled. ‘I want to look on your naked body.’ I raised my arms to wave them about, as you must when speaking Persian. But he rapped out an order in Syriac and one of his men stepped forward to put a knife against Antonia’s throat. ‘Not her throat,’ he said with silky menace. ‘Get ready to cut off the little finger of her left hand.’ He smiled at me. ‘Would you care to watch this, Alaric?’ I looked briefly at the wine jug. It had been a meal without cutlery. But you can do a lot of damage with a two-pound weight of ceramic — or you could, so long as you didn’t worry what Shahin’s men would do next. I got up and stood away from the chair. Shahin waved at his man to wait before cutting. He kicked his own chair away from the table and stood up.
‘Arms and legs outstretched, Alaric,’ he said. He looked quickly at Antonia, who had squeezed her eyes shut and was biting lips that were as pale as her face. ‘Look at him,’ he said. Another order in Syriac, and her head was forced round so she had no choice but to look. Another of his men came over and ran his hands lightly over my body. I let myself grimace at his stinking breath, but tried otherwise not to look as close to shitting myself as I was.
‘Isn’t he lovely?’ Shahin gloated. ‘Did you ever conceive such beauty could exist in the male form? Is it not a beauty that the eyes can behold without ever being slaked? Have you yet known the force and passion of his embraces? I’m sure you thought your luck had changed when he chose you above other women.’ He laughed softly and walked forward to kiss me on the lips. I tried not to gag as he forced my teeth apart with his tongue and licked the roof of my mouth. He took hold of my buttocks and ground his hips against mine. He pulled back and stared into my eyes. Then, as if understanding from the look in my eyes the consideration of risk and benefit that was running through my head, he darted back. He nodded and his man let go of Antonia’s wrist.
He smiled again. ‘You heard the promise I made to your slag,’ he said. ‘Well, I’ll extend it to you, Alaric. If you don’t do as I tell you, I’ll do more than cut her throat. She’ll die cursing the day you turned your lying charm on her.’ The ship moved slightly in a combination of breeze and current and he sat down heavily. He turned an ill-natured stare on Antonia, who was still looking at me. So far, she’d taken things pretty well — crying out with fear now and again but not completely breaking down in tears. But I could see in her eyes the expression of a condemned criminal who’s managed to smile and even banter with the crowd that has followed him through the streets and who now stands before the execution stake and sees the glowing brazier and the irons and knives and other implements of death. It didn’t help that she must have seen the same in my own eyes. Shahin looked on complacently. He giggled in his eastern manner and reached for the wine jug. ‘You may sit down, Alaric,’ he said with a return to fake jollity.
I allowed myself one sip of wine and smiled easily. ‘You know, Shahin,’ I said, back in Persian, ‘you always did have a taste for the dramatic. But don’t you think it would save time if you simply told me what you wanted?’
Shahin drained his cup and stared at the ceiling. ‘Do you know what His Majesty did to my uncle after you’d given him the slip in Ctesiphon?’ he asked, still in Greek. I raised my eyebrows. Knowing Chosroes in general, and knowing how eager he’d been to pay me back for wrecking a whole year of his war effort, I could imagine poor Bahram had been put to considerable discomfort. I hoped the exact manner would be left unsaid, or at least explained in Persian. But Shahin had settled into his excellent Greek and was in talkative mood.
‘My uncle was taken into the Shaft of Oblivion. You know that place, don’t you, My Lord Alaric?’ I did. Two years back inside the Empire and I still sometimes woke in a panic when I took opium in the wrong mood. I kept my face expressionless.
‘He was taken to the lowest dungeon. There, Chosroes himself was waiting, with his own hands to geld and blind the Lord Bahram’s two sons — and with a delicacy that ensured their survival. This done, a coat of silk mesh was wrapped tight about his body. It was wrapped so tight that one-inch squares of his bare flesh projected through. Every day, the Great King returned to slice off more squares with a razor. .’
‘Oh, Shahin, Shahin,’ I cried as he stopped for a very dark scowl at me, ‘but I never realised Chosroes would miss me so!’ I smiled brightly and pushed my chair back so he could see more of me again. It made sense for Shahin to take no chances with me. Even so, stripping me naked plainly served more than one purpose. He still fancied the arse off me and, even before his latest demonstration of interest, had been drooling over me all though dinner like a voluptuary in a slave market. Of course, he’d have to be mad to get alone into bed with me. Come to think of it, I’d rather have got into bed with the toothless boy — and you could forget about the bath. Still, it was worth trying to divide his thoughts. Shahin was no fool. He’d not mess up like poor old Bahram had. But lust had finally topped intelligence in Ctesiphon. So it might do here. Sooner or later, I’d find means of escape. In the meantime, I could try to find out how he’d come to be operating as a pirate within sight of Constantinople — and how he’d known when to lift His Magnificence Alaric straight off that beach.
But Shahin paid me no attention and finished his account of how the two ruined sons had screamed reproaches at their father until the blood poisoning got to them, and how Bahram had lived another month as a bag of screaming, maggoty slime. I felt sorry for the poor man, and wondered how many days it might be from here to Ctesiphon. No — I put that straight out of mind. I needed a clear head. I couldn’t afford to think of that grinning fiend, slavering and scratching himself on a mountain of yellow silk cushions.
‘Sad stuff,’ I broke in again. This time, I kept Shahin quiet by reaching down and playing, as if absent-mindedly, with my foreskin. Antonia pretended not to notice. Shahin tried not to look too obvious as he leaned forward, but trembled so much, he spilled wine down his front. Bearing in mind how shrivelled up I was from horror and the cold, there wasn’t much to see. Still, I tried to keep up the impression of a man at full ease. ‘Oh, sad stuff indeed,’ I repeated. ‘But we can be glad you got off lightly. You only got sent to sea. I hope you’re enjoying Beirut. The Aegean is a sight you Persians haven’t had in a very long time, except as prisoners.’ I gave him a sweet smile, and began stroking the ridges of muscle on my belly. ‘Just a few thousand sit-ups,’ I’d once told him between bursts of drugged buggery, ‘and you’d have the same.’ I hadn’t mentioned his flabby thighs or the distasteful flatness of his buttocks, nor the absence of any neck or the lack of symmetry in his nipples. He seemed to have lost weight in the past couple of years. But that must have owed more to some falling out with the sea than to any change in his generally shitty style of life.