them the focus of your investigation. Limit the deaths this causes.’
‘What deaths?’
‘Well, for a start we’ll be purging the street magicians as soon as we receive an edict from the emperor.’
‘You said the Varangians were to blame.’
‘And so I believe. But this is a serious situation. The Varangians are six thousand armed fighters, and it will take time to undermine them, isolate their leaders and bring them to task for their crimes. The sky is boiling and the mob is restless. The street magicians are but two hundred jabbering men and wild women. God is angry with them. What else could this sky mean?’
‘But you know they’re innocent.’
‘I suspect they’re innocent of this, but who knows what other guilts they hide? They are enemies of Christ, and in times such as these we need only the Saviour’s friends around us. The chamberlain has opposed this action before but now he will sanction it, I’m sure.’
‘I’ll see to it that he doesn’t.’
The man smiled. ‘Don’t make me your enemy, scholar Loys.’
‘That is not my intention.’
‘Our intentions matter little in life. It is what we do that counts. Just by being here you are a threat to the authority of some of the great offices of state. When people find out you are conducting this investigation – which many already have – they will think those in charge don’t trust those offices, and if those offices do not have the emperor’s confidence then they are a little less respected, a little less feared. Killing the soothsayers has a practical benefit. It restores the fear.’
‘At the cost to your immortal soul.’
‘These people consort with devils. If Christ came back today he would be the first to shed their blood. Now excuse me. What you’re looking for is within.’
He tapped the door then walked back the way they had come.
‘I will oppose you,’ said Loys to his retreating back. The man stopped and turned.
‘You could stop me immediately if you chose.’
‘How?’
‘Resign.’
‘That would be my death.’
The man tilted his head, a sarcastic smile on his face. ‘So there’s a limit to your compassion and love for the low people, I see.’
‘I am not a martyr,’ said Loys.
‘Not yet,’ said the man. ‘If you need to leave this city in a hurry, stain your left-hand thumb and small finger with ink. My men will contact you. You may need us. You and your wife.’
‘Who are you?’ Loys felt the blood leave his face at the mention of Beatrice.
But the man walked away, disappearing around a corner.
Loys watched him go with the certainty that his destination, should he take up the man’s offer, would be the next world and his mode of conveyance a dagger to the back.
Loys knocked at the door. After a few moments it was opened a crack by a eunuch, tall and old. ‘Come in, master.’
He opened the door wide to a vision. Beatrice sat in a long dress of deep and lustrous blue. At her neck was a collar in cloth of gold and behind her a maidservant combed out her golden hair. Next to her was a table and on it a silver goblet and a plate of grapes.
‘Loys! You’ve been so long; they said you’d come immediately. Look at you. You’re soaked and you’re covered in dirt. Have you been attacked?’
‘No, gosh, no. You know me. No one crosses me and gets away with it.’ He put up his fists and gave a little growl, trying to be light, trying to reassure her.
‘Oh, Loys, come here and hug me.’
He did, and as he put his arms around her felt a huge need to protect her.
‘Did you see the sky?’ he said.
‘What about the sky?’
‘They brought you here before it happened?’
‘What happened?’
‘Never mind. Just bad weather.’
‘It was a fine day when I arrived.’
‘Who brought you?’
‘Men from the chamberlain’s office. I was afraid of them at first, but they were finely dressed and bore seals so I went with them.’
‘I was worried about you.’
‘They said you’d know
‘What deaths?’
‘Well, for a start we’ll be purging the street magicians as soon as we receive an edict from the emperor.’
‘You said the Varangians were to blame.’
‘And so I believe. But this is a serious situation. The Varangians are six thousand armed fighters, and it will take time to undermine them, isolate their leaders and bring them to task for their crimes. The sky is boiling and the mob is restless. The street magicians are but two hundred jabbering men and wild women. God is angry with them. What else could this sky mean?’
‘But you know they’re innocent.’
‘I suspect they’re innocent of this, but who knows what other guilts they hide? They are enemies of Christ, and in times such as these we need only the Saviour’s friends around us. The chamberlain has opposed this action before but now he will sanction it, I’m sure.’
‘I’ll see to it that he doesn’t.’
The man smiled. ‘Don’t make me your enemy, scholar Loys.’
‘That is not my intention.’
‘Our intentions matter little in life. It is what we do that counts. Just by being here you are a threat to the authority of some of the great offices of state. When people find out you are conducting this investigation – which many already have – they will think those in charge don’t trust those offices, and if those offices do not have the emperor’s confidence then they are a little less respected, a little less feared. Killing the soothsayers has a practical benefit. It restores the fear.’
‘At the cost to your immortal soul.’
‘These people consort with devils. If Christ came back today he would be the first to shed their blood. Now excuse me. What you’re looking for is within.’
He tapped the door then walked back the way they had come.
‘I will oppose you,’ said Loys to his retreating back. The man stopped and turned.
‘You could stop me immediately if you chose.’
‘How?’
‘Resign.’
‘That would be my death.’
The man tilted his head, a sarcastic smile on his face. ‘So there’s a limit to your compassion and love for the low people, I see.’
‘I am not a martyr,’ said Loys.
‘Not yet,’ said the man. ‘If you need to leave this city in a hurry, stain your left-hand thumb and small finger with ink. My men will contact you. You may need us. You and your wife.’
‘Who are you?’ Loys felt the blood leave his face at the mention of Beatrice.
But the man walked away, disappearing around a corner.
Loys watched him go with the certainty that his destination, should he take up the man’s offer, would be the next world and his mode of conveyance a dagger to the back.
Loys knocked at the door. After a few moments it was opened a crack by a eunuch, tall and old. ‘Come in, master.’
He opened the door wide to a vision. Beatrice sat in a long dress of deep and lustrous blue. At her neck was a collar in cloth of gold and behind her a maidservant combed out her golden hair. Next to her was a table and on it a silver goblet and a plate of grapes.
‘Loys! You’ve been so long; they said you’d come immediately. Look at you. You’re soaked and you’re covered in dirt. Have you been attacked?’
‘No, gosh, no. You know me. No one crosses me and gets away with it.’ He put up his fists and gave a little growl, trying to be light, trying to reassure her.
‘Oh, Loys, come here and hug me.’
He did, and as he put his arms around her felt a huge need to protect her.
‘Did you see the sky?’ he said.
‘What about the sky?’
‘They brought you here before it happened?’
‘What happened?’
‘Never mind. Just bad weather.’
‘It was a fine day when I arrived.’
‘Who brought you?’
‘Men from the chamberlain’s office. I was afraid of them at first, but they were finely dressed and bore seals so I went with them.’
‘I was worried about you.’
‘They said you’d know
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