Harry Turtledove V

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Triphylles said, "May it please your Majesty, here you shall have a fine
opportunity to overawe the barbarian with the splendor of Videssian court
life. When he sees such a magnificent display, he will desire nothing more
than to continue gaining the bounty you condescend to grant him."
"That would be good," Maniakes agreed. He found court life more nearly
stupefying than awe-inspiring, but then he was stuck in the middle of it like
a fly stuck in honey, he sometimes thought. But indeed, to a sheep-raising
nomad, the gold-encrusted robes, censer-swinging priests, and slow, stately
eunuchs might be impressive. Unquestionably, Etzilios would never have seen
anything like them.
"The last item the khagan demands, your Majesty, is twenty pounds of
peppercorns a year in addition to the tribute of gold." Triphylles made a
face. "The lord with the great and good mind alone knows what he purposes
doing with the pepper, for he seemed utterly ignorant of its use in cookery."
"We shall survive that," Maniakes said. "We can give him his spice."
"Excellent, your Majesty." Triphylles beamed for a moment, then suddenly
looked anxious. "Uh, your Majesty I trust you won't need me to hammer out the
details of your forthcoming visit to the borders of Kubrat?"
"I think the services you have already rendered the Empire will suffice for
the time being, eminent sir," Maniakes said, and Triphylles' fleshy face
filled with relief. "High time now for you to enjoy the comforts of Videssos
the city, as you have indeed labored so long and hard to keep them safe."
"Phos bless you, your Majesty," Triphylles said. His mobile features bore a
different message: it's about time.
Not every day did an ordinary, rather battered galley pull up to the quays of
the little harbor in the palace quarter. But then, not every day did the
father and uncle of the Avtokrator return to Videssos the city after years of
exile. When word the ship was approaching came to the palaces, Maniakes set
aside the tax register he had been studying and hurried down to the water's
edge. Had anyone asked him, he would have admitted he was glad for an excuse
to set aside the cadaster. No one presumed to ask. That was one of the nice
things about being Avtokrator.
Waves sloshed through one another and slapped against the sea wall. The sound
of the ocean pervaded Videssos the city, surrounded by water on three sides as
it was. These days, Maniakes often had to make a conscious effort to hear it.
Time in the capital, and before that in seaside Kastavala, had dulled his
awareness.
Rhegorios came hurrying down to the docks. "Are they here yet?" he said. "Oh,
no, I see them. Another few minutes. Look, there's Father in the bow and your
father, too." He waved. After a moment, so did Maniakes. As often happened,
his more spontaneous cousin got him moving.
The elder Maniakes waved back. Symvatios did, too. Rhegorios had sharp eyes,
to tell them apart so readily at such a distance. Maniakes had to squint to be
sure who was who.
Standing beside Symvatios was his daughter Lysia. She also waved toward
Maniakes and Rhegorios. That made Maniakes wave harder. Rhegorios, though, put
his hands down by his sides. Maniakes poked him in the ribs with an elbow.
"Aren't you going to welcome your sister?" he demanded.
"What, and give her the chance to put on airs?" Rhegorios said in mock horror.
"She'd never let me forget it."
Maniakes snorted. He listened to the oarmaster calling the stroke and then
ordering back oars as the galley came alongside a quay. Lines snaked out from
the ship. Servitors ashore tied them fast. Sailors and servitors wrestled the
gangplank into place.
The elder Maniakes crossed to the wharf before anyone else. Had anybody tried
to precede him, his son thought he would have drawn the sword he wore on his
belt and sent the presumptuous soul along the bridge it would either cross to
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reach Phos' heaven or fall from to descend to Skotos' ice.
With great dignity, the elder Maniakes bowed before the younger. "Your
Majesty," he said, and then, with even greater pride, prostrated himself
before the Avtokrator who happened to be his son.
"Get up, sir, please!" Maniakes said. This business of being Avtokrator kept
having implications he didn't see till they upped and bit him. He stared
around in no small alarm: what were people thinking of a father who had to
perform a proskynesis before his son?
To his amazement, the servants and courtiers watching the elder Maniakes
looked pleased and proud themselves. A couple softly clapped their hands at
the spectacle. Whatever Maniakes had expected, that wasn't it.
Still bent on the dock, the elder Maniakes said, "Just let me finish my
business here, son, if you please," and touched his forehead to the timbers.
Then he did rise, grunting a little at the effort it cost him. Once he was
back on his feet, he added, "Now that that's over and done, I can go back to
clouting you when you do something stupid."
Where abject servility had brought nothing but approval from servitors and men
of the court, that threat, obvious joke though it was, drew gasps. Maniakes
rolled his eyes in wonder. Did they suppose he was going to punish his father
for lese majesty?
By the way they kept staring from one of the Maniakai to the other, maybe they
did. Maniakes walked over to his father, embraced him, and kissed him on both
cheeks. That seemed to ease the minds of some of the spectators, but only made
others more nervous.
Symvatios performed the proskynesis next. After he rose, he went on one knee
before Rhegorios. "Your Highness," he said, as was proper in greeting the
Sevastos of the Videssian Empire.
"Oh, Father, get up, for Phos' sake," Rhegorios said impatiently. Seeing the
Sevastos imitate the Avtokrator's informality, the spectators sighed things
weren't going to be as they had been in the reign of the traditionalist
Likinios. How things had been during Genesios' reign, they carefully chose not
to remember.
After Symvatios had presented himself to his nephew and son, it was Lysia's
turn. As before, Maniakes felt more embarrassed than exalted at having her
prostrate herself. He got the strong feeling, though, that ordering her not to
would have insulted her instead of making her happy. He shrugged. As he had
seen with the way Triphylles lusted after an otherwise altogether unimportant
title, ceremony was a strange business, almost a magic of its own.
"I'm glad you're here, cousin of mine," he said, giving Lysia a hug after she
had greeted her brother. "When we left each other in Kastavala, we didn't know
whether we'd ever see each other again."
"I knew," Lysia said, showing more confidence now than she had that day on the
distant island. She said nothing about the embrace they had given each other
then, though he would have bet it was in her mind as it was in his. The one [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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