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Doctor Who_ Byzantium! Part 25

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Thalius said at last.

'Such as?' bullied Calaphilus.

'Not dying a horrible and needless death, for one,' Ian interrupted:That would seem to be mutually beneficial, wouldn't you say?'

The praefectus praefectus nodded, slowly, while the general said nothing. 'Wake up, gentlemen. The a.s.sa.s.sins are at the palace gates; both of your lives are in dire peril. We have to do something.' nodded, slowly, while the general said nothing. 'Wake up, gentlemen. The a.s.sa.s.sins are at the palace gates; both of your lives are in dire peril. We have to do something.'

'I am doing something,' Calaphilus countered. 'Already I have, under close arrest, one of the men I suspect to be involved in the outrages.' he looked closely at Maximus. 'Edius Flavia , , praefectus, praefectus, a tribune of most high rank whom you, yourself, were instrumental in helping to obtain his posting.' a tribune of most high rank whom you, yourself, were instrumental in helping to obtain his posting.'



Thalius ignored the general's accusing stare and shook his head, sadly. 'I knew his father. A great great man. Be you certain of Flavia's involvement in these hideous crimes?' man. Be you certain of Flavia's involvement in these hideous crimes?'

Intelligence informs me thus,' replied Calaphilus. 'And I believe that I know the ident.i.ties of several others who also conspire against me. As yet, however, Flavia has not been forthcoming with confirmation of these names and, thus, I am obliged not to act upon my numerous suspicions.'

The praefectus praefectus seemed to find this amusing. 'We all know Marcus Lanilla and Fabius Actium seek both of our deaths with relish, Gaius; one does not have to be the wisest man in the Pantheon to see such a blindingly obvious conceit. I shall go further and suggest that such plots also involve Lanilla's wife, the viperous Agrinella. Add in a plethora of local officials, bruised by perceived blockages to their political prospects, a few middle-ranking army officers, ambitious to crawl up the greasy pole of field promotion, one or two slaves promised their freedom, and yes, Gaius, perhaps even the former wife of a weak and tired seemed to find this amusing. 'We all know Marcus Lanilla and Fabius Actium seek both of our deaths with relish, Gaius; one does not have to be the wisest man in the Pantheon to see such a blindingly obvious conceit. I shall go further and suggest that such plots also involve Lanilla's wife, the viperous Agrinella. Add in a plethora of local officials, bruised by perceived blockages to their political prospects, a few middle-ranking army officers, ambitious to crawl up the greasy pole of field promotion, one or two slaves promised their freedom, and yes, Gaius, perhaps even the former wife of a weak and tired praefectus, praefectus, and you have a ripe and merry band of conspirators, poised for their moment in the sun.' and you have a ripe and merry band of conspirators, poised for their moment in the sun.'

'Proof, however, is another matter, praefectus,' praefectus,' the general replied sarcastically. 'For some of us still believe in the tenets of Roman law.' the general replied sarcastically. 'For some of us still believe in the tenets of Roman law.'

'A law including impunity from crucianienturn crucianienturn which you have, presumably, broken in the attempt to extract a d.a.m.ning confession and a conspirator's list from Flavia,' Thalius argued. which you have, presumably, broken in the attempt to extract a d.a.m.ning confession and a conspirator's list from Flavia,' Thalius argued.

'Have you whipped him near unto death, or is there still something left that I I may question as the prosecutor of this city?' may question as the prosecutor of this city?'

'Stop bickering like children,' Ian said, rolling his eyes.

'Gemellus, what have we done?' he asked.

'Begun a process. A dialogue,' the adviser replied.

'Gentlemen, we have begun to discuss mutual interests; surely maintaining order amid the anarchy of this part of the empire would fall into such a category?'

'Of course; snapped Calaphilus. 'Every good Roman wishes to see the empire strong and well managed.' He gave Thalius a positively lethal glance. 'Is that not so, praefectus?' so, praefectus?'

'I want nothing more than to serve the empire and maintain its position.'

'You are two proud men,' Ian said. 'And perhaps we can make you realise that you have a lot more in common than may, at first, appear to be so.'

The room was plunged, again, into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of Gaius's fan swishing through the air.

I am ready to listen to reason,' Thalius said at last. 'And I suspect that the general is also willing.'

The row of twelve guards lined up in the cobbled street of the Greek quarter, stood rigidly to attention and then, at the barked command of their sergeant, shouldered their arms. Captain Drusus Felinistius walked along the row of plume-helmeted soldiers, their gleaming silver breastplates reflecting his own face back at him. He stopped next to legionnaire Marinus Topignius and tapped him on the arm with his gladius. gladius.

'Stand by the door, legionnaire,' he said, quickly. 'Move on my instructions.'

'Aye, sir,' said the soldier from the side of his mouth, so tight was the chinstrap that clamped his helmet to his head. 'Just like old times, sir.'

Felinistius was thinking exactly that. Just like fifteen years ago in Judaea when he and his men had formed the most feared and respected murder squad in all of Rome's legions. After such days as those, Byzantium had little to offer by way of comparison.

'Remember,' the captain told his remaining soldiers, 'this action should not require casualties, Straight in, seek out the objective, secure it and straight out. Any local resistance, you are authorised to use force, but make sure it is only so much as is necessary. If anyone goes in swinging their sword indiscriminately, I shall have you publicly flogged, is that understood?'

There were grunts of acknowledgement from the men. 'Is that understood?' bellowed Felinistius.

'Aye, sir,' they chorused, loudly.

In the window of one of the houses nearby, a curtain flickered, and a stray shard of candlelight briefly illuminated a portion of the street.

'Go,' shouted the captain, turning towards Marinus Topignius. 'Go, go, go.'

Two swift blows from the legionnaire's foot and the door to the house burst open, light flooding into the street from inside.

The soldiers poured into the house and Felinistius brought up the rear, arriving to the sound of a woman's high-pitched scream.

'Silence,' he cried as he stooped to enter through the low-framed door. 'Where is the girl?'

In the room, Felinistius saw a man pinned to the floor by two of the soldiers, a look of anguish and pain on his face as one of them tied his hands together with coa.r.s.e rope. Beside the fire, a large woman, her face reddened by a single, stinging blow to the cheek, was also sprawled on the floor, a legionnaire towering over, her, ready to repeat the dose if she gave him any cause, 'Where is the girl?' repeated the captain angrily.

'Here, sir,' said Marinus Topignius, throwing back a rough blanket under which cowered two pairs of terrified eyes.

Felinistius marched across the room to the two young girls and demanded, 'Which, amongst you, is the Briton?'

'Neither of us,' said Vicki, quickly. 'We're both as Greek as...' She stumbled to a pause. 'As Greek can be,' she concluded.

'This one,' the captain noted, and the rough arms of two soldiers hauled Vicki from beneath the blanket. 'She is the one. No Greek child would be so forward. Bring her.' He turned to Georgiadis, struggling against his bonds. 'Our business is concluded in this place, Greek,' he said, sweeping out of the door without another word, followed by his troops, dragging the terrified Vicki with them.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Jigsaw Feeling [A Poem for Byzantium]

And they watched him, whether he would heal him on the sabbath day; heal him on the sabbath day; that they might accuse him.

Mark 3:2

Byzantium. The imperial city.

Approached from the sea, as most travellers would do, their ships pa.s.sed from the Aegean through the h.e.l.lespont and then crossed the foaming, brilliant Sea of Marmara, the Pontus Euxinus Pontus Euxinus of antiquity. of antiquity.

From there, the city dramatically rose as if by a trick of the light from the peninsular between the pale-blue sky and the hazy waters of the Golden Horn, the scimitar-shaped estuary of the Bosphorus. The domes and minarets and towers of Byzantium rose from the hills on either side of the deeply cleft mouth of the river, straddling the entrance to it like a colossus.

Twin wooden bridges linked the muddy banks of the Golden Horn. To the east lay Asia, where could be glimpsed the oldest part of the city, the Bedouin and Mesopotamian quarters at the foot of the Galata hills and amid sundry archeological ruins of earlier settlements that had been swept clean from the face of the land by the desert winds. And the wrath of a vengeful G.o.d.

But Byzantium was unique in that it was the only city on the planet to span two continents. On the western sh.o.r.e, at the very tip of Europe, stood the sea walls leading to the Greek and Jewish quarters and the h.e.l.lenic-Roman city centre; the Theodosian forum, the temples, the pavilions, the public baths and several curved amphitheatres. In the far west, where the outside city walls met the sea was the Porta Porta Aurea Aurea, the golden gate. The walls were so thick and strong that on several occasions before the Romans came, they had withstood invaders like the Gauls and the Seleucid king Antiochus I, who had captured Chalcedon and other towns in the region.

Behind these walls began the seven hills of Byzantium.

The first settlers in this place had been shepherds, Dorian Greeks who had come from these hills during the winter to shelter their flocks. Later came the Spartans, who fortified the peninsular and made it into the stronghold that it was now.

Along with other Greek colonies, Byzantium was a polis polis, a city-state, its government usually democratic, though there had been occasions when it was controlled by oppressive oligarchies and despotic tyrants. The Romans had come to Thrace 170 years before, organising their empire in Asia and taking new lands. Byzantium, unconquered in a millennia, fell in a bloodless surrender and entered into a formal alliance with Rome, in which it enjoyed the protection of the empire and, though paying an annual tribute, was able to retain its free-city status. The Romans linked the new province to Italy with the Via Egnatia, a chariot road leading from the Adriatic coast to Thrace, with Byzantium lying at its eastern terminus.

The city had maintained excellent relations with Rome until early in the reign of the emperor Augustus who had, for reasons best known to himself, stripped it of its possessions in Bithynia and stationed a garrison within the town itself, instead of at its outskirts as previously. Although it was still, technically, an independent city-state, few of its inhabitants were under any illusions as to who the real rulers of Byzantium were.

Sweeping down the narrow streets that ran at right angles to the northern city walls, the traveller would exit into the circular Amphitheatre Cordelius which led directly into the Vil a Praefectus Vil a Praefectus and the barracks of the Byzantine army. If any such metaphorical traveller had been in Byzantium on this particular day, and possessed wings with which to fly through the window of the and the barracks of the Byzantine army. If any such metaphorical traveller had been in Byzantium on this particular day, and possessed wings with which to fly through the window of the Vil a Praefectus Vil a Praefectus and into the atrium chamber; then he or she or it would have seen the and into the atrium chamber; then he or she or it would have seen the praefectus praefectus's wife frothing at the mouth in a furious rage.

'You had no right,' the lady Jocelyn told Felicia, her trembling handmaiden, as the contrite girl knelt before her and wept at her feet. 'To condemn a man of n.o.ble birth to the brutal and loathsome attentions of such as Gaius Calaphilus can have no justification of any form.'

Jocelyn slumped like an exhausted mother into her husband's throne, shaking her head sadly. 'What is to be done with you?'

'He forced himself upon me, lady,' Felicia said between anguished tears.

'And?' demanded Jocelyn angrily, gripping the sides of the throne until her knuckles bled white. 'You are nothing but a ministrant, jade jade. The only reason for your existence is the unquestioning service of your betters. And Edius Flavia, despite his peculiarities, is most a.s.suredly better than the likes of you.'

Emboldened by a foolishly sincere belief in her own innocence, Felicia prostrated herself before Jocelyn, placing her head on the feet of the wife of the praefectus praefectus. 'Begging your most gracious pardon, lady, but general Gaius Calaphilus took a different view.'

Although m.u.f.fled, the words carried perfectly well to Jocelyn, who lashed out a foot and kicked the handmaiden painfully in the ribs. 'I am thy mistress, jade jade, and your conniving knavery will not save thee from my wrath. I should have been told of what occurred beneath my own roof. Get thee hence to the slave quarters and await the manifestation of my displeasure against you, thou most wicked child.'

Felicia stood, her eyes downcast. Woefully, she began to speak but was hushed to silence by Jocelyn as she nodded to Drusus, who stood behind the handmaiden.

'Have this wretch of a girl taken from my sight,' Jocelyn announced as Drusus hustled Felicia away.

The significance of this little scene may have been lost on any casual spectator, even one with wings. But it is certain that, had they also been party to a meeting taking place less than a mile across the city, at the edge of the Jewish quarter at Haghia near the bejewelled synagogue and the copper market, they would not have been so confused.

The house was innocuous, like a hundred others, completely anonymous to anyone as a hotbed of rebellion and plots. That, presumably, was why Matthew Basellas, Ephraim and Yewhe and their Zealot brothers were within the house, living in the shadows of the city. Stealth was their watchword as they moved about Byzantium's nooks and crannies, scheming and searching for the opportunities to create mayhem and destruction.

As was the Zealot way.

Basellas was a changed man since the murder, at his own orders, of his brother. Simeon had been a strategist of considerable brilliance and Basellas had leaned on his brother's wisdom and expertise on more occasions than he had chosen not to. Now the true and brutal nature of Matthew Basellas was beginning to emerge with no one to hold it in check any longer. Ephraim was nothing but a glorified 'yes'

man, agreeing, with ever-increasing sycophancy to each and every one of Basellas's outrageous schemes. Yewhe and Benjamin and others like them within the Zealots such as the miller, Saul Acunes, were willing lieutenants, perfectly happy and willing to die in the pursuance of any of the hair-brained situations that Basellas dreamed up next.

Today, however, more mundane matters were being discussed. Simple, yet deadly, a.s.sa.s.sination. 'Benjamin has been given his target,' Acunes told the a.s.sembled kananaios kananaios council. council.

'And his sicarii sicarii knife?' asked Ephraim who roared with laughter at his own cleverness until he realised that no one else was laughing with him. 'And I say unto you, good luck and fortune to that most blessed of our sons of Zealotry, that he may strike quickly; like the scorpion, and with much secrecy.' knife?' asked Ephraim who roared with laughter at his own cleverness until he realised that no one else was laughing with him. 'And I say unto you, good luck and fortune to that most blessed of our sons of Zealotry, that he may strike quickly; like the scorpion, and with much secrecy.'

Though he was stating the obvious, Ephraim's rousing wishes were met with a murmured chorus of approval. 'What say you, Matthew?' he asked, seeking the support of his leader.

'Knives into black hearts,' said Basellas in a slow, almost painful drawl. 'Black Roman hearts. Yes. Black. Like their eyes, mirrors to their black souls...'

Ephraim and Yewhe exchanged nervous glances and then, almost simultaneously, offered their verbal support.

'Fine words, Matthew,' noted Ephraim.

'I shall follow you to the ends of the earth, my leader,'

noted Yewhe.

And both, despite the livid madness bubbling in the eyes of their commander, meant every word.

An aerial view of the city would only be possible for birds and angels but let us suppose, for the briefest of moments, that our winged traveller existed outside of the realms of fantasy.

High above the rooftops of the Jewish quarter, the highest point within the city was the tower of Nebuchadnezzar, named after the Babylonian king whose dreams the prophet Daniel had successfully interpreted. At its very apex, the Pharisees t.i.tus and Phasaei stood against the stone ramparts, hundreds of feet above the ant-like people milling around below them. It was, both men simultaneously decided, like a vision of h.e.l.l from the heights of heaven.

Zeus's face stared back at them from the forum mosaic below, mocking the Jews for their disbelief in Greece and its G.o.ds.

But Greece, like the Jews, had found itself enslaved.

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Doctor Who_ Byzantium! Part 25 summary

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