Historical Lovecraft: Tales of Horror Through Time

Historical Lovecraft: Tales of Horror Through Time by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Paula R. Stiles Page A

Book: Historical Lovecraft: Tales of Horror Through Time by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Paula R. Stiles Read Free Book Online
Authors: Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Paula R. Stiles
Tags: Historical, Horror, Lovecraft, Anthology
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two barrels of smoked sturgeon roe and three of salted carp ….”
    As Timos recited the list of treasures prepared to entice the Emperor to order the return of the precious stolen relic, Probus drifted into dreams. He imagined the Abbot’s outrage when the Caesarean Guard, come especially from Constantinople for the job, would escort him and his congregation up the mountainside to that accursed monastery. That brigand’s lair wouldn’t protect the thieving Abbot and his scurrilous band, then. What Caesar declared would be effected.
    It wasn’t as if it were just any old relic: not a supposed feather from the Archngel Gabriel’s wings – there were hundreds of those around – or one of the coals Diocletian had used to roast poor old Laurentious (God keep his soul), or a beaker of dust stirred up when Giorgios of Konya slaughtered the dragon. Oh, no, this was an authenticated pouch belonging to the Holy Nicholas of Myrna, which had contained gold pieces used as dowry for an impoverished young woman. It belonged in the church recently renamed in his honour. And blast those monks, anyway, for thinking they could just carry off one of his Bishopric’s finest, holiest treasures without so much as a ‘by-your-leave’ – as if he, Probus, would have consented to such a thing, anyway.
    Probus drifted on cushions of reverie. It had been a hectic and expensive few weeks, ordering and assembling all those luxuries for the Emperor – even if Timos had done most of the work. When he awoke, half an hour later, Timos was just coming to the end of the 99th scroll and the ships sailing for the Holy City of the Emperors were tiny specks on the horizon. “Are you finished? I’ve just had such a wonderful dream.”
    “Have you? Before you tell me, perhaps I should get some of the yellow wine we brought in last week ….”
    “Some olives would go nicely with the wine. How kind you are to me.”
    Most of the time, this far from the upheavals and intrigues of New Rome, life in Celestia, a Byzantine seaport city in the middle of the fifth century after the birth of Jesus Christ, was quiet and orderly. Bishop Probus had been flung into a niche that perfectly suited his talents and abilities. Possessing neither strong political nor passionate religious convictions, his genial tolerance of the swirling multiplicity of cultures and populations that called Celestia home had won him the overwhelming affection and support of his congregants.
    In this, he was assisted by Timos, his clerk, scribe, friend and – ah ... er ... slave. Many years before, Probus’ father, the General, recognising his son’s limitations, had conscripted a Bulgarian village boy – grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, in fact – and brought him back to Constantinople to be young Probus’ companion, bodyguard and helpmate. Timos, possibly too smart for his own good, had attended and benefited from all the classes through which Probus slept and dreamed such pleasing dreams.
    But, as some wit would one day write, the times they were a-changing. After years of regency by his sister Pulcheria, the Emperor Theodosius, now in his full majesty, had commissioned:
    “... a full and proper compilation of all laws promulgated since the assertion of Christianity as the one true religion by the blessed Emperor Constantine ….”
    Timos, wishing, not for the first or thousandth time – the ponderous language made his teeth hurt – that the Bishop could read for himself, was interrupted.
    “Damn! Why has he wanted to go and do that?” Bishop Probus, disappointed that the missive just arrived did not contain the confirmation of his claim to the purloined relic, expressed his irritation with emperors, overlords and bureaucracy, in general.
    “What’s wrong with trying to bring order to the snakes’ nest of rules and regulations that every half-wit emperor has dumped on the empire since Diocletion?”
    “Careful whom you’re calling a ‘half-wit’ – one of them

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