The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [262]
He came back half a day later and found Nicholas rolling dice with five men while something sizzled and smoked on the little grill over his fire trivet. As soon as Nicholas saw him, he finished his game, pocketed the screw of parchment he had won, and came over to help Tobie erect the tent he had brought. Then he returned to skewer the meat on the grill and cheered everyone up by pretending to make Tobie eat it. Finally they both went into the tent with all their possessions, and ate in relative comfort while Nicholas discoursed noisily about nothing. Then, while the camp slept in the heat of the day, Nicholas said in the lowest of voices, “Now. Tell me.”
Tobie said, “As we thought.”
Nicholas looked at him. Then he sighed, and said, “The wound? The Vizier was pleased with you?”
“He’ll ask me to come back. It’s infected: it’ll need to be treated. And because I’m mute, they talk to each other. It’s true: they sent Katabolenu to Trebizond, and the Emperor sent him back with an absolute refusal to surrender.”
“But?”
“But the call for surrender was only a ruse to get Katabolenu into the Palace to collect advice from our treacherous friend there. He has been busy, it seems. The Emperor has been repeatedly told that the White Sheep have deserted and that resistance is hopeless. At the moment, he can’t quite believe it, but a letter from Sara Khatun would soon persuade him the Sheep are dead mutton. Next, Mahmud will send to the Palace again, promising compensation and honour if the Basileus packs his children and luggage and leaves. Our treacherous friend has indicated that, with such help from the Vizier, he can persuade the Grand Comnenos to see sense and hand over his empire. The treacherous friend being, as you thought, George Amiroutzes. Great Chancellor, Treasurer, Count Palatine, and the Emperor’s closest adviser.”
“And second cousin to the Grand Vizier Mahmud. Whose mother was a native of Trebizond. Everyone should have a mother from Trebizond,” Nicholas said. “You sit on the fence and other people get the stake up their guts. She’ll write the letters, Sara Khatun.”
“That was what she meant, last night,” Tobie said. “She knew about Amiroutzes. And her niece; and Violante, I suppose.” His gaze sharpened. “Did—?”
“She practically told me, on board ship. But I wasn’t sure, until later. I did what I could in the way of counter-advice, but it wasn’t enough. I suppose if you can reconcile Greeks with Romans, it isn’t a tremendous step to throw in the Prophet as well. After all, Constantinople puts up with a Greek patriarch, and if the heathens can show tolerance, then why shouldn’t everybody?”
“I don’t know,” said Tobie. “It’s the mass murder beforehand that puts everyone off.”
“Well, George will be all right,” Nicholas said. “When does the Sultan come?”
“Tonight or tomorrow morning. Nicholas. Sara Khatun. That was also why she talked of…?”
“Yes. It was also why,” Nicholas said.
Tobie looked at him. He said, “What good will it do, seeing the Sultan?”
“I don’t know,” said Nicholas. “I suppose you could do it all by numbers instead. Let’s call it a gesture. And if he makes himself available to be seen, that will be another gesture not to be sniffed at. And the earth will be blessed with another day of your silence. And even with Amiroutzes dripping sense into his ear, the Emperor isn’t witless. He has the whole strength of the Great Church at his elbow; and his little heirs reciting their lessons; and the men of his dynasty glaring down from the walls of his chamber. He has Astorre and his own commanders to tell him how strong the City is. When we go back, we can show him exactly why Mahmud wants an early surrender.”
“But first, we need another day here,” Tobie said. He spoke with resignation. He had made the point before, and didn’t expect to be answered. He knew all the arguments. He had heard them, over and over, from Godscalc. All the same, he let the silence stretch on. Then he said, “You’ll get marsh-fever. It’s the one thing that makes me happy about you,