57.
57.
[The attempted assassination of the Emperor, orchestrated by the Co-Emperor who had suppressed a rebellion.]
I wondered if anyone could understand it at first glance.
Of course, there would certainly be some who could... but that was not what I meant.
It was just that this affair was that convoluted.
"Basil always carried himself with dignity. I never once felt he had changed, for he was always faithful to me, always devoted to me alone... he was my man..."
Michael, who had fallen from heaven to hell in a single day, crossed into Nicaea with a fallen face, refusing even the wine he loved so much.
According to the Grand Admiral of the Eastern Roman Navy, Niketas Ooryphas's reconnaissance, a man clad in golden armor had been observed leading a cluster of escorts near the theme of Macedonia... and this was unmistakably Basil.
Thekla, the Emperor's sister, was probably there as well.
"He was the first retainer I ever had who was mine alone. Of course, he was a Skollai personally selected by my father with that lofty insight of his... but he was a comrade with whom I ate and drank. Heh, I feel uneasy, as if I am showing my Konungr only the unsightly face of the Empire."
"Steady your heart. The taller the tree, the more often the wind blows."
"...Yes, so it is. I thank you for those truly wise words. Sometimes, I think it might have been better if I had never ascended the throne at all."
"If you had not, Your Majesty, you would not have been able to drink the Bithynian wine you so treasure to your heart's content."
"Haha. That is also true... but now that things have come to this, even that sweet wine cannot offer me any solace."
With those final words, the Emperor merely pulled on his horse's reins in silence.
After the assassination attempt on the Emperor, the enraged Basilikinos and Rentakios permitted no one to approach the Emperor's side, yet they took no measures whatsoever against me, who could arguably be considered the most dangerous figure.
That was only natural, since I had saved all of their lives.
This was not excessive self-consciousness or overpraise; it was simply a calm statement of fact. Had I not been standing by in advance at that place on that day, the Emperor and everyone surrounding him now would be dead.
I would likely have fallen under Basil's influence, said whatever he told me to say, accepted a few scraps, and returned north.
Had that happened, what moves would Petronas and Damian of the Black Sea have made?
The answer became clear the moment I crossed the walls of Constantinople.
*****
"Welcome, Your Imperial Majesty."
"Strategos Petronas...! When had you...?"
When we parted in Cherson he had been dressed in white, so I did not realize it then, but the sight of Petronas, who had come to the capital dressed in clothes of bright crimson, was the very image of a middle-aged, high-ranking Roman.
"While seditious incidents were occurring everywhere, how could I, as a subject, simply remain idle? It happened that I had business in the capital, just as my earlier refusal of the treasurer's position weighed on my mind... but upon hearing the grievous news of what Basil had done, I was awaiting Your Majesty's safe return."
"Yes... I see. Thank you, Petronas. It is good you came."
Though I did not know exactly what had transpired between the two of them before, it turned out well regardless. The Emperor's expression, which had been walking the valley of despair beyond melancholy, brightened just a little.
"Your Majesty."
"Your Majesty, we are overjoyed you have returned safely...!"
"Your Majesty...!"
Many others besides them spoke as one to welcome Michael's safe return, but two people among them stood out most of all.
They were the Ecumenical Patriarch Photios and the original client who had finally revealed herself, Eudokia Ingerina.
"Your Majesty, the Lord has indeed helped us. Behold, from far-off Rus he sent a messenger of God to deliver Your Majesty...! The Lord has affirmed that this Roman Emperor is Michael alone...!"
"Patriarch, thank you..."
Archbishop Photios gave off a feeling that was less that of a cleric and more the distinct reek of a wily politician.
As if he did not care in the slightest that I was a foreigner and a heathen, he exalted me as a messenger of God and quickly stirred the acclaim of the citizens of Constantinople, who had surrounded us to greet the Emperor.
This was... a campaigning technique from which even 21st-century Korean politicians could learn a thing or two.
The Emperor did not attach any particular meaning to Photios's actions either and merely expressed his thanks... but his gaze had already settled upon one single woman.
"Eudokia..."
"Your Majesty..."
...?
'Well, well. What was this, then.'
Were you two not having a secret affair? A secret affair (that all the people of this city knew about).
The Eudokia the Emperor named was not the Empress standing there like a decoration.
To be precise, he was speaking of Eudokia Ingerina, the wife of the now-traitorous former Co-Emperor Basil.
No matter how much they thought they had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, the sight of these two, who still seemed to believe they were engaged in some kind of secret affair, was so painfully awkward it was truly difficult to watch.
Could they be any more pathetic? Trading sorrowful glances while calling each other's names, like a scene from a dated romance novel.
In particular, tears were already streaming down Eudokia Ingerina's two eyes... and though her body appeared slightly gaunt and exhausted from having given birth to a baby boy just a few days prior, I perceived that what filled that woman's eyes was not merely a sense of relief.
'More than that... I could see strength, and coldness as well.'
It seemed that even in this couple's love, one party loved the other far more.
Of course, it was none of my business either way.
"Your Majesty, please come first to the Palace of the Bull and Lion. There are many things I must explain to you from this point forward."
"...Explain? What sort of explanation...? Strategos Petronas."
In response to the Emperor's question, Petronas smiled a subtle smile.
"It may seem to you that everyone has turned their backs on Your Majesty, but I shall show you that this is, in fact, not the case."
The Emperor, still uncertain, soon walked side by side with Eudokia Ingerina towards the Palace of the Bull and Lion.
Behind them trailed the show-window couple, and yet another Eudokia... but no one thought this strange.
Not even the Empress Eudokia herself. There must surely have been some agreement with the Emperor.
I was gradually beginning to feel the urge to escape this splendid but stifling city and return to my own slightly shabby but welcoming town.
If you are supposed to be the queen of all cities, then you may enjoy all the glory, Constantinople.
I had no need of it.
*****
"The Knyaz of Bulgaria has made his move. Your Majesty."
"Bulgaria? What is the meaning of this, Petronas?"
Unlike when they had departed, the conference hall of the Palace of the Bull and Lion, which even felt desolate thanks to the Skollai — whose numbers had been considerably reduced by Basil's attack — was pervaded by a chill.
Amid all this, the Emperor had personally summoned Strategos Petronas of Cherson, myself, Grand Admiral Niketas, Basilikinos, Rentakios, and Patriarch Photios to the council chamber, and there, what Petronas revealed was shocking.
For the civil war was no longer merely a civil war.
"While Your Majesty endured that terrible ordeal and made your way toward Constantinople, an envoy from Bulgaria arrived.
As the Archbishop is currently deeply involved there... I received the envoy together with him, but their message had nothing to do with conversion."
At the mention of his name, the Patriarch nodded to the Emperor with gleaming eyes. For some reason, I saw in Patriarch Photios a reflection of my vassal Sigebryht from East Anglia.
Men who feigned loyalty but moved according to profit above all else. The mind of a fox.
The Emperor, his brow furrowed, gestured for him to continue, and Petronas carried on speaking.
The Emperor did not touch his wine.
"According to the envoy from Bulgaria, several days ago a man claiming to be one of Basil's people presented himself at the Bulgarian court.
He said that a great event would soon take place within the Empire, and that if they supported the Co-emperor when it happened, a great reward would follow."
"Why, that son of a bitch—!"
Basilikinos, whose blood pressure now rose at the mere sound of Basil's name, reacted most violently; Grand Admiral Niketas, not yet an old veteran but already with a hundred campaigns behind him, narrowed his eyes.
Quieting the reactions around him with a single gesture, Michael signaled Petronas to continue once more.
"My thanks, Your Majesty. However, that was merely Basil's proposal. The Bulgarian envoy delivered this message:
'When the Knyaz Michael of Bulgaria received his new name upon conversion, he took it after the name of the Roman Emperor Michael, not the name of the Co-emperor Basil.'"
"Ha—"
"Hear, hear!"
[Clap, clap, clap!]
The chamber burst into unanimous acclaim, and even as Basilikinos clapped his hands, Petronas's low voice continued.
"The Knyaz of Bulgaria shall aid only the true Emperor of Rome. Basil is as good as finished, Your Majesty."
Now beyond mere acclaim, sounds approaching cheers rose from all around, yet I saw that Michael alone wore a forced smile upon his lips.
"Yes, so it is. You have done well, Strategos Petronas. We must maintain contact with the Knyaz of Bulgaria—is there a suitable man to send there?"
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. There was already a man there, and I was able to receive his aid."
"Oh? And who is he?"
"...Your Majesty's former Parakoimomenos, Damian."
"...Damian. Yes. I had forgotten him..."
Damian?
'Huh, that old man...'
He had shown me every sort of frail appearance and acted as though he had transcended all worldly concerns. And all the while, he had simply been sharpening his blade.
Come to think of it, Petronas of Cherson and Damian both bore grudges against Basil.
Damian, demoted by Basil's own hand, needed no explanation, and Petronas of Cherson harbored resentment over the elimination of Caesar Bardas, who had shown such zeal for eastern expansion, compounded by his fear for the future after Basil's rise to power...
Yet the Emperor laughed hollowly, and his inner thoughts seemed filled less with such strategic calculations than with a kind of emptiness.
"Basil... did you truly draw your sword only to come to this...? Basil, oh Basil."
Soon, shaking his head, the Emperor declared he would rest for the remainder of the day, and at his word, the high officials of Rome—men who could not survive without a keen sense of the moment—all rose as one, paid their respects, and began filing out one by one.
"Helgi Konungr. Could you spare me a moment?"
"...? Of course."
Just then, the Emperor called my name as I moved to leave with Petronas.
"Come with me somewhere, Helgi Konungr."
"...Where might that be?"
"Rentakios—!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Springing up from his seat, the Emperor summoned his shadow and abruptly seized me by the arm, and I, unable to very well strike the Emperor, had no choice but to follow where his hand led.
*****
The Hippodrome.
The chariot-racing stadium of Constantinople.
According to the Emperor himself, the building that occupied the most land of all. In a sense, the very essence of Roman culture, even more vital than the imperial palace.
Thanks to the increasingly bitter weather and the hour when the sun slowly set and twilight settled in, not so much as a single ant stirred in this vast arena where the Emperor had come in person.
With the recent attempt on the Emperor's life, the Skollei who had survived Basil's clutches watched every space the Emperor walked with blazing eyes and restricted all entry, and the citizens of Rome themselves, still enraged, cooperated fully.
It must have been a very long time indeed since this colossal stadium had known such stillness.
"At Adramyttium, and at Cyzicus. I now owe my life to you twice over, Helgi Konungr."
For days now the Emperor had not touched a drop of liquor, and he looked somehow more gaunt, diminished.
It did not seem to be merely a lack of drink... His heart seemed to carry deep wounds.
I merely sat in silence with the Emperor on the lowest tier of seats, admiring the beauty of the Hippodrome.
"It is a poor thing to say to the man who saved my life, but these past days a thought has been circling my mind. If only you had not been there...? If I had died? Would it perhaps have been better...?"
...I had meant to simply sit and admire the sight, but seeing the Emperor speaking such weak words, something seemed to boil up in my chest, and I could no longer keep my seat.
"...If I had di—"
"From the very first time I saw this place, I have longed to watch the chariots race."
I had dared to cut off the Emperor in mid-sentence, but as there was no one nearby save the distant guards, it would cause no trouble.
The Emperor looked at me strangely at my sudden, untimely remark, but I only gave him a grin in return.
"Regrettably, we have no chariots, but we do have two legs. Let us have a race. Your Majesty."
The Emperor's puzzled look slowly faded into a blank stare, and soon a roguish smile bloomed across his face. The way his eyes swept up and down over me seemed utterly contemptuous, and it irritated me to no end...!
"Perhaps you might best me in a sprint, but in a long-distance run I should have the far greater advantage...? What shall we wager, Helgi Konungr?"
Ha, would you look at this fellow?
At the Emperor's audacious confidence, I gave a snort of derision.
"Save such talk for after you have won."