Byzantine intrigues: The Struggle for Power

[Ludens]

So am I, but please take your time writing it.

[Prince Cobra]

Richard was not used to being ignored. Alexius had not taken him in his morning ride. Instead he had ordered him to stay in the Palace. Richard was a warrior and knight and hated doing things people with lesser status could do. Wandering around the castle and then reporting his master could be done efficiently by any decent woman. No, women were better in this work and he was a foreigner who spoke horrible Greek. It was good there were people who spoke decent Latin and French.

Richard snorted out and put down the sword he was holding in his hand. Then he took another one and tried it. The weapon was balanced and well done like most of the Spanish weapons. Richard knew the Empire imported its weapons from the West. Greeks were not masters of war. True, they were not as bad soldiers as the rumours claimed but their military equipment was obsolete. Thus, they needed mercenaries and armour made by foreign blacksmiths. Richard liked the sword but he wanted to test few more. That one looked good. Alexius had allowed him to use the private training hall in the Palace. It was designed for a couple or very small group of people. It was the place where the governor or people close to him could train. The armour was in excellent condition but somehow the room seemed to be too tidy. Nicephorus was a leper and was not fit for such an activity. As Alexius came back, Andronicus Assen allowed him and his close men to use the room. This was part of the respect the successor of Nicephorus paid to the family members of Nicephorus Doukas.

He tried another few swords. And they all were not as good as his. He was used to it and could hardly put his life on another one without a good reason. A good, balanced, and tested in battle sword was invaluable. He would not exchange it even for the piece of art of the best blacksmith. The place was also too silent and too isolated from the common soldiers. He needed living people around him, even if these were to be Greek soldiers with their incomprehensive language. And he would surely find some other Western mercenaries as well…

As he left the room and the servant who kept the key locked it, Richard chose the longer way to the first floor where he hoped he would find a better company. Maybe he would even hear some gossips or news -

At this moment he almost clashed with a Greek who appeared from behind the corner.

“I am sorry, Kir,” Richard hastened to say in Latin. These Greeks got very touchy about the etiquette. Obviously the man was of noble birth: his well cut beard and hair, the numerous linen tunics on his body. He was left with the impression the man was in a hurry. However, the man had stopped and was watching at him,

“I suppose you are the new guard of Alexius Doukas…”

“I am, Kir”

“Ah, good choice. “ the man smiled,” But do you know where Alexius is?”

“He had left, Kir”

“Left? I knew it. He is used to training very early in the morning. I suppose he is on the first floor…”



“No,Kir, he had left the Palace.”

“Left?” the man repeated once again. “ Where?”

Alexius did not tell him anything. He was ether on a walk in the city or its surrounding or visiting the mercenary camp. And why on earth this man was so nosy?

“I do not know, Kir”

The man’s face became absolutely expressionless for a moment.

“Ah, good…” he said as he put his finger on his beard “In fact what was your name?”

“Richard de Hall, Kir”

“I am Romanus Philantropenus, Kir de Hall. I think it will be good if we have a drink together. I hope you have some free time… “

Richard hesitated for a while. He had heard Romanus Philantropenus was influential man. He was flattered to have the privilege to speak with him as equal… Yet the sudden interest of this man taught in the art of intrigues and deception could have another explanation. “In vino veritas”, the old Romans said. Did the nobleman think he was hiding something from him? He also knew nothing about the relations between Alexius Doukas and Romanus Philantropenus… They seemed to be good friends on the surface with Alexius paying the proper respect to the older man. But was it an illusion?

Interrupting the long pause Richard said,” I am most grateful for your invitation, Kir Philantropenus. Unfortunately, I can not accept. I already have another task to do. One day-”

Philantropenus bit his lips. He did not take that polite refusal well.

“Very well, Kir de Hall. But my invitation still stays, though… The sooner, the better. Now I take my leave, Kir” Romanus slightly nodded and went on. Richard cast a look on the back of Philantropenus and hoped he had made the right the decision. Few steps ahead and another person arrested his attention. A woman. He looked straight at his eyes. Beautiful green eyes with angelic face. A lock of hair was dropping on her face negligently contrasting with her piled hair under her hood. She did not use white cream to whiten her face or rouge for her lips. No, she had deviated from that aristocratic ideal but her pleasant tan typical for the many people of the Mediterranean suited her well. The eye contact was soon over and she left him behind. He was staying stiff in the silent corridor as any idea of what he had to do was gone.



--------------------------------

“We have almost reached,” Theodosius Chomatian announced as he looked at Kosmas. Kosmas stared at the large monastery they were approaching. It was situated on a high and rocky hill that was in fact a little mountain. The rock and the massive walls of the monastery seemed to be one as if it was the hand of God – not that of a man – that had built the means for protection of this sacred place. This divine protection was not aimed only against those who were obsessed by unholy desires to possess the gold of this rich monastery but also against the common men, who were often forgetting about the real value of their existence and thoughtlessly deviated from the path of their salvation. There was a single road that cut through a forest of evergreen oaks and olive trees and that climbed up the rocky plateau.

It was long, difficult and tiresome traveling to the monastery “St. Archangel Michael” for which Kosmas felt too old. Yet he had to do one final effort to find the peace he had desired for so long. As Theodosius Chomatian approached the gates of the monastery he was immediately recognized by the monks who were guarding the single passage to the holy place. The gate of the monastery swung open and the guests were welcomed by few monks whose number was quickly increasing. The Egoumenos appeared from the small crowd and silently approached them. He was a very old man - possibly in his late seventies - and his hollow-cheeked face bore the proofs of long and strict fasting. His hair was adjusted under his black hat with veil and his chest-long white beard was left loose opposing the fashion amongst the aristocracy.

The clergyman bowed to the bishop of Mistra and said a few polite words. Theodosius Chomatian dismounted and blessed the monastery praising the zeal of the monks. Theodosius and Kosmas followed the Egoumenos, who had invited them further into the building. First they were invited to eat into the dining hall of the monastery. They were given cold water for a drink and peas and bread. As they were over they were led to the room where the Egoumenos was waiting for them.

Whilst making his way through the maze of corridors and stairs, Kosmas fell in reflection of how misguided the poor human beings were. Those who had pristine ideals were often misled by the Unholy and lost their souls. He, Kosmas, was told by many how fair and honest he was but now he wondered if the life in the Court had not corrupted him, too. He had seen many things but he stood silent. He seldom interfered in the struggles of the court and thus he often neglected his duty to the weak. And even now he was not sure why he was determined to spend the rest of his days here. Was it because he wanted to seclude from the sinful world and be closer to his God? Or it might be the fear from Death that pushed him to this. He had seen many ill people and he had felt their fear from the inevitable. He had seen long agonies of the soul stick to the dying flesh… And here was he completely helpless led by the Egoumenos, a truly holy man…

The servant invited them into the Egoumenos room. It was not the lavishly decorated rooms of a member of the upper clergy. Just like his appearance, the room was Spartan lacking any decoration. There was a table and few chairs around it. There was an icon of the patron of the monastery in one of the corners. And the room was surprisingly beautiful. For if there were few things made by the human hand, the Divine powers were taking care of the beauty of that room. The sole window showed the magnificence of nature with the forests of cypresses and olive trees, evergreen oaks…and the blue peaks of the mountain. Somewhere west, behind the horizon was Mistra, the mighty capital of Morea.


As they finished the Egoumenos slightly bowed at the Bishop of Mistra who was higher in the hierarchy than him. Theodosius Chomatian greeted his “brother” and explained the position of Kosmas. Kosmas knew there was a letter that already explained that but personal contact was important. Kosmas felt the calm eyes of the Egoumenos focusing on him.

“I have heard many good things about you, Kosmas. It will be honour to join our brotherhood. I do not doubt your true intentions but choosing the path of a monk should not be a result of whim but of thorough reflection. You will spend about three years in our monastery so that you can make your final decision. I do hope you will make the right one.”

“Thank you for the trust, father”

Kosmas rose and kissed the hand of the Egoumenos. As he rose his head, the Egoumenos nodded at him and pointed at the servant waiting close to the door

“Brother Theon will show you the monastery, Kosmas”

Kosmas bowed once again and followed the younger monk. He managed to cast out any sinful inquisitiveness that was filling his head. He knew the Egoumenos and the bishop of Mistra would have an important conversation, though he should not and would never know what exactly they were discussing. He followed the novice.

“Your name is Theon?”

“You are right, Kir Kosmas. But this name will soon be forgotten. I will become Themotheus”

Kosmas was familiar with the custom: monks accepted another name when tonsured. Their new name was completely different from the previous one except for the first letter that was often kept. On rare occasions the monks preserved their names. The high rank and the nearing death could explain that exception from the rule.

They were silent as they tried not to bother the silent life of the monastery. The novice informed Kosmas about the place they attended about the relics kept in the monastery and the precious books in the scriptorium. Slowly but surely the man spoke more and more…

“The monastery takes the upkeep of the local orphanage, “the novice explained as they saw few young novices passing by. “Times are hard. “

Suddenly the novice was approached by a boy from the group. The novice smiled and started a friendly conversation. As Kosmas tried not to disturb the conversation and slightly walked away. His attention moved on a black-haired man in his mid thirties who was speaking with another boy. The man looked familiar to Kosmas, though it was hard for him to remember where exactly he had seen him. He was called on a number of places: from the Palace and rich houses to few inns… He silently sneaked to the couple. The middle-aged man had the appearance of a person who doubted in everything and everybody. His threatening appearance showed he was a man to be reckoned with. And yet the sinful inquisitiveness pushed Kosmas at this venture. He seemed to be lucky: the man suddenly knelt before the boy. The man stared at the ground as he felt uneasy in the presence of the boy. Kosmas used that moment of distraction to take a comfortable position behind the corner.

Kosmas already had some problems with hearing but he was luckier than many of his age. He was close to the couple and was positive the man had said something like “you are a good boy”. The boy’s answer was louder and therefore easier to be interpreted since the boy was about three years before his voice broke. The boy also used the name of the man. Then Kosmas realized it was Christopher, the man who served Theodore, the innkeeper and the master of Helena. Once again he forced all of his sense in order to learn information that could be invaluable.

Christopher seemed to be excited as his voice became louder.

“Call me father, son”

Then Kosmas heard the approaching steps of the novice Theon.

_____________________________

That's it. It took me ages to make a research on the monastery customs. I was familiar with some of the practices while completely unfamiliar with others. Going back to the story I've written about the November writing contest. Contrary ot the implication I could have created, the Orthodox monasticism is not for mortifying the flesh. It turns out that the main purpose of the devotion is cleaning the flesh and the soul from the sin which is slightly different. Maybe you have noticed the difference between a typical Orthodox and Catholic monk(the beard, the clothes; it does not become very clear but the Orthodox monks have no round tonsure on their head). The differences between the Orthodox and the Catholica religion are many. The most striking example is that Orthodox religion does not forbid the lower clergy to marry. For the monks and the upper clergy however this forbidance is valid. Since I'm not a theologian, I'll stop here.

PLease note how Richard calls the Byzantines: Greeks. This is another demonstration of the alienation between the Byzantine east and the Catholic west.

Egoumenos: the man responsible for the monastery; equal to the Western abbot

It is not appropriate the comment is larger than the update and I'll stop here.

[Prince Cobra]

Announcement:

I will post my next update this or the next week as Christmas present. Another piece of the mosaic will appear. One of the scenes is in my mind. The other one is still in process of thinking

[Prince Cobra]

The hooded figure approached the door of the solar and knocked three times on it then he made a pause and knocked twice. The door was unlocked and he saw two vengeful eyes staring at him. The man also had a hood that shaded most of his face. The host stepped back and gave way to his guest. It seemed that this infidel did not lack any manners, though he never gave the proper respect to the people above him. People like him, Demetrius Raoul, Megas Contostablos of the Roman Empire. He cast last look on the disguised guard he left to guard the door and he reminded to himself that this man soon had to be replaced and send away, in Monemvasia for example. Otherwise, despite his disguise he could be recognized…

Demetrius Raoul moved his eyes back on the Egyptian and stopped on distance he considered to be relatively safe. Being the right hand of Michael Cantacuzenus he was used to having secret meetings with dubious people and he knew safety had no place in such a meetings. There was only common interest of the two sides and a risk that worth being taken.

“I thought we have already discussed any problem that can ensue from our deal, Mustafa. I will not take bigger risk than I can afford. “

“I do not need your money, Kir,” the man hissed. “This is not the reason why I called you here.”

Demetrius Raoul bit his lip but did not say anything. The only reason he tolerated this infidel’s arrogance was that he needed his assistance.

“I have not meant that,” Demetrius Raoul said concealing his irritation and explained, “I simply fear the numerous spies that swarm Mistra. So move straight on the topic, please “

The Egyptian approached Demetrius with his silent steps. He came so close that Demetrius was sure his guards had put hands on their sword hilts. Surprisingly, he did not fit with the image of infidel and his image did not differ much from the local Greeks. The man’s black beard already had a few white hairs; his hazel eyes expressed hatred and sharpness… And these were all the features most of the people could remember. He was the perfect man for the job.

“Good,” the Arab said. This morning he was in horrible mood. Mustafa had a sleepless night: that was for sure. The anxiety of what he was going to do was pressing his nerves. Demetrius knew what made the foreigner relax. There was a special sort of poppy that was helping him. It could be drunk or eaten and it caused pleasant dizziness that was close to being drunk. It could also serve as poison if taken in large quantities.

After a long pause Mustafa met the eyes of Demetrius and started,

“As I said I will not need more money”. It was funny this Arab despised money but he was the person who talked about them, Demetrius ironically thought. In fact he had already used the equivalent of the annual payment of twenty mercenaries. Not that the Megas Contostablos was against paying him more for the job, if needed.

“Many years ago there was a young man in service of Nicephorus, “the Egyptian started his story.

For a moment Demetrius Raoul thought he was talking about himself. Maybe he needed somebody to share with. And he, Demetrius, was the only one who could listen to him. If so, this could be well exploited by him in the future. Yet it was too early for conclusions…

“The name of this man was Michael. This man became a groom under the service of the Doukas. Many things happened during his loyal service of the Doukas. The old Doukas, Alexius Doukas the Elder, the father of Nicephorus, died; the brother of Nicephorus perished, too. And finally, a certain man called Dyogenes Branas also shared the same fate. Michael, the groom, also died in mysterious circumstances. He simply disappeared. It took me some time to find his body because at that time I was already obsessed with the Doukas. The head was missing though. There is a strange coincidence, Kir, do you not think so?”

Demetrius calmly resisted his piercing sight. He knew Mustafa was not telling him the whole story. His obsession of the Doukas had its explanation but it was clear the Egyptian was unwilling to tell the story. However, he might have understood what the Muslim was asking for.

“You want to tell judge Branas this?”

“Exactly, Kir. I am sure you will find a proper way to inform Kir Branas about it”

Silence followed the determined words of the Arab. Demetrius looked aside in order to buy time. This unexpected condition of the mercenary had to be considered…

----

Alexius checked if his hair was well gathered in a queue. He raised his training sword at the level of his chin testing the balance of the weapon. As he lowered the sword again, he slightly smiled and nodded at Richard. Richard attacked him but Alexius avoided the blow with a rapid movement. Richard was not a fool and blocked the skilful counter attack of the Greek. For a moment he saw the dark and calm eyes of his opponent and master and they separated again only to cross their swords a moment after.

“Show more of your fencing skills, Richard! I am not made of glass!” Alexius said as he avoided another attack. The man had developed excellent fencing reflex and easily predicted the attacks of his opponent. He was also moving fast like a lightning and there was little need to raise his sword to parry the lazy attacks of his guard. Richard knew he had to increase the pace of the fight but he also feared he could hurt his master and thus he would endanger his profitable position. He showed more of his skills in the next attack but Alexius continued to avoid his sword that simply slashed the air. The Greek even started laughing. The laughter of Alexius seemed to be slightly forced as it was intended to hurt the pride of his opponent. Alexius probably hated easy victories.

After the next unsuccessful attack Richard started to realize the rumours about the Alexius skills against the Turks might have been right. In real battle Alexius would be a formidable opponent.

“You are getting better, Richard. But that’s not enough!”

Alexius hissed and made his first determined attack. Richard was caught surprised and unprepared consumed by his thoughts. He managed to block the first blow but lost balance, the second one almost brought him on his knees and the third one almost disarmed him. Forgetting about who was fighting against him and the friendly nature of the duel, he used all of his skills and managed to block the next attack. Alexius exclaimed something before delivering his next blow. Richard tried to avoid the sword of the Greek but it was too fast and the English was forced to block it unable to finish his maneuver. He saw the arc of the sword of Alexius in the air; he heard the sound when their swords clashed. It was too late to parry the little dagger Alexius held in his hand. In the next moment he felt the hilt of the little weapon by his throat.

“Dead!” Alexius announced, “This one was better, though it was far from enough!” The heir of the Doukas removed the dagger from his throat and hid it beneath his tunics.

“I disagree, Alexius. I think you will need a little rest” Richard turned at the direction of the voice. The tall and aristocratic figure of Romanus Philantropenus was moving towards them.

“It took me half a day to find you, Alexius.”

“I was on a ride. You should have joined me, Romanus” Alexius moved his eyes on Richard and added, “You are free. This afternoon we can practice more”

Richard slightly bowed and took his leave under the scrutinizing look of Kir Philantropenus, which was not as friendly as he was in their previous conversation.

“Hey,” somebody shouted as he was on his way to the garden. Richard stopped and looked back. It was Fernando, the Catalan with whom he fought few days ago and his new friend. “Where are you going?”

It seemed Alexius had freed him, too.

“I wish I knew!”

“I thought you were helping Alexius with his fencing…”

“He does not need lessons. He’s quite good. “

“Greek good in fighting – that’s something remarkable. “ Fernando grinned. “So he beat you well and then let you go?”

“Something like that. Kir Philantropenus interrupted us.”

“Another reason to respect this man. More free time and less work. A cup of schismatic Greek wine, what do you say?”

“Sure”

“Where is your enthusiasm? Have I missed something?”

“No… yes,” there was no reason to hide it. And maybe the Catalan knew something more than him. “There is a woman”

“Woman? A-a-a-h, woman! “Another ironic smile appeared on his face. “Something happened?”

Richard felt sorry he had started the topic. The Catalan was about five years younger than him - about twenty one - and although his adventures with the local prostitutes have become a productive ground for gossips, he behaved quite immature.

“No, in fact I almost do not know her. I do not know her at all. Not even her name…” How on earth he was expecting any information! He did not know anything!

“This sometimes happens…”

“I have not slept with her if you mean that”

“Ah, that complicates the things… How does she look?”

“Brown hair, green eyes, Mediterranean tan…”

“And this is all! You can find such a woman in every brothel in Mistra! Yet she could be one of the maids of the castle”

“I am not very sure. She did not look like a maid. She was hooded as if she wanted to hide her face…”

“Mate, you need some wine! It’s on me “

“ Thank you but –“

“You are not at work. We can drink as much as you can!”

“Fernando – “

“No, I can not leave you in such a condition. You will also tell me what happened while me and Alexius were going on… what was the word… ‘ride’ “

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing really, “the Catalan smiled, “Let’s hear your story first. Don’t worry: in the local pub there are few to understand us and they’ll certainly be quite drunk”

The two friends entered the tavern and sat on the most distant table of the pub. A frivolous young woman served them wine and made one of these smiles that the prostitutes cast to their clients Richard shook his head and after a short hesitation the same did the young Catalan, though he found hard to focus his eyes on something different than her back. The Catalan pursed his lips and looked at his interlocutor.

“Well?”

“Romanus Philantropenus. He wanted to know where Alexius was. It seemed they had an important business.”

“Do you have any idea about what this business could be? “

“Not of course.”

“I don’t like it. Something is happening but we do not know anything. We simply participate and risk our lives. When I came here, I did not expect the old Nicephorus will die. And here we are: Morea is a mess. I ran from Athens only to fall in the same dump as I was before. They are plotting something,” the Catalan looked first left and then right, “Damn rumours, they only make the things worse”

“What rumours?”

“Well, these could be only gossips and I hate them… this could be a lie of course. But look: Nicephorus is dead, his heir Manuel is accused to be his murderer. Guess who would benefit from this “

“Are you mad –“

“No, I am not. I only want to know what is happening here. I don’t care – Alexius could have killed not only his father but also his mother and whoever you want… The only thing I want is to know what is happening around and to receive my payment regularly.
And you do not know anything?”

Was it wise to tell this man everything? How Romanus tried to receive any information at any rate? He was not sure.

“I think so. And anything interesting happening during the ‘ride’ ”

“Well, yes. You see, I’m generally not allowed to speak about that… but you are also a guard of Alexius. So you’ll have to know. The ‘ride’ was connected with a woman”

“Woman? You mean -”

“Not yet, “the Catalan grinned. “They only kissed each other. But this woman is a very special one. “

For a moment the blood of Richard turned into ice. Was it possible that woman he saw – Of course not. She was in the Palace at the time when Alexius was having his ‘ride’.

“Who was she?”

“Come closer, “the Catalan emphasized his words with a gesture. Then he whispered in his ear the name of Helena Theodorina.

“You do not speak seriously. She is – “

“Yes, this family will soon break into war. Even if the rumours are wrong. “

“You are going in dangerous waters, Fernando”

“I know. But I am a mercenary after all. Right?”
-----------


The standstill of the long siesta had almost made Helena go mad. Rambling thoughts were dashing in her head and she could not find any activity to engage her mind. She still could not explain why she had kissed the brother of Manuel. The
only logical explanation seemed to be unacceptable. She was the hetaira not he. She had to control her feelings. She had to be faithful to Manuel. She was not. No, she missed him; she missed his problems, his calm voice, his presence… Or was it an illusion? Illusion that had to hide the inevitable: she loved Alexius.

She looked up and stared at the horizon. Today she pretended to be sick – she had declined any conversation; she had even sent away Maria the young girl she took care of. Once the day cooled down, she immediately changed her mind and forgetting about her excuse and the problems her absence could cause to her. She simply went to ride. She hoped she would not meet anybody familiar. Fortunately, the hetaira house was almost empty; she also hoped Alexius was busy with the preparation of his father’s funeral. The death did not only remove very dangerous enemy from her path but it also made him useful for future plans. Or to say it better: he was useful in giving her more time to make a plan. She knew Alexius would try to meet her again. And this time she had to know what to do with him.

She and her guards entered into the small olive forest. In the green maze of shades and lights she felt better. The air was perfumed by the specific aroma of olives, the songs of the birds sounded all around her. She was brought back in time when Manuel took her to this small forest for the first time. He had knelt and asked her for forgiveness. He told her he had not wanted to be rude and that he had simply been too drunk. His amber coloured eyes showed he was indeed sincere in his words and the dark shades beneath his eyes hinted suffering his young soul was forced to endure. She knew many people were talking in the same way only to break their promise the following night. She also doubted she was the reason for this man pains: the shade was on his face even before they knew each other. Yet something made her forgive him and relish the time she spent with him… Later this strange feeling called love made her share his hard way of life and join his struggle against father who dared to kill his mother and to commit incest with his own son. But it seemed he had not noticed her. He continued to spend his time with different women and many of them were classes beneath her. Until a year ago… then she had won… or at least she thought so… Or maybe she simply loved his brother all the time he was away…

The idea she had been lying Manuel all the time made her skin crawl.

“Kira Helena, are you well?” One of her three guards had approached her. None of them really understood her. Unlike David they were simply doing their jobs.

“Thank you, I am well.”

“Do you want to climb the hill or maybe we can have a rest?”

“I am well, thank you,” she concealed her irritation behind her calm voice and spurred her horse. David would have never asked such a question. He would know… It seemed Alexius had failed in freeing him… Was he jealous? David had never showed any hint that he was unsatisfied by their present relation. She knew he loved a certain girl from his village, not her. Yet he rarely talked about her: maybe because he did not want to offend her. She seldom asked him about her as well… Why? She knew the answer – she rarely saw the ordinary people around her. She differed from the aristocrats who simply ignored them: instead she charmed them, enslaved them with good attitude and calm voice and showed certain signs of good will to keep their loyalty… and this was all. During her tuition she was taught that the clients were the center of her attention and she was the center of their little ephemeral world. She used all the people around her: her elder maid for doing her hair and helping her in dressing and bathing; Maria - for compensating her inability to be a mother; David was her loyal dog. Maybe the only people she saw were Manuel and…Alexius and the people who stood between her and them. She was trying to change herself for good but this was a slow and uncertain process…

She heard somebody screamed. For a moment she thought if this cry came from her own head – a desperate attempt to ask for help nobody could give. She needed only a moment to reject such a possibility: her guards were also worried and were looking around. A second scream followed and Helena’s skin crawled. She felt as if it had erupted from the earth beneath her feet and it made her remind the last cry of the rabbits when killed. She strengthened her hold on the reins of her already restless horse and led her guards at the direction of the screams. She bent her body avoiding a large branch on her way and with a leap of her horse she went on a small glade. She saw a bleeding corpse in the middle of the glade and a dark figure kneeling several feet from the body. The assassin pulled out his bloody knife from the body of the second victim and swiftly rose. His bloodstained cloak disappeared in the shades and Helena spurred her horse in that direction. Her horse crossed the gale at gallop but stopped at its end and raised his front hoofs keeping balance on the other two. Helena was surprised by her horse refusal to enter into the sparse forest and cursed. Her body shook from the fall and she felt pain. She clenched her teeth and snarled at her guards ordering them to catch the murderer. The guards did just the opposite and approached the hetaira.

“Leave me, fools! Catch him!” she shouted again as she bent on her hand. She looked around as if she wanted to confirm that all of her stupid guards were around her allowing the murderer to run away. She snarled again and looked at the body of the second victim. The blood was flowing from her body like a river and there was a small puddle of blood beneath her body. Her beautiful face was soiled by her blood and her lips were moving whispering last words in her agony. Helena hurled at the dying victim that could be her last chance to help Manuel. She snatched her shoulders and shook the body asking for the name of the murderer. Clyo’s maid continued to mumble incomprehensive words and Helena broke into tears.

“Tell me! Who? What happened! Tell me for God’s sake!”

The girl opened her eyes darkened by agony and said louder,

“Saint Archangel Michael! Forgive me… Saint Archangel Michael, I did not want to…Saint Archangel Michael”

“What do you mean? Tell me!” Helena hissed but only a ruckle came from the girl’s mouth. The muscles of the victim became stiff and the fear froze on her face for ever. Helena shook the body violently as she hoped the girl had only lost consciousness. Somebody put his hand on her shoulder and she heard somebody was talking to her. Helena ignored him. She continued to hold the blood-stained corpse in her hands and scrutinize the face of the made for slightest hints of life. Tears were running down the face of the hetaira and several drops fell on the bloody face of the dead. The world around her shook… somebody had caught her and was dragging her into the opposite direction. She did not want to drop the dead and only after a short struggle her guards separated her from the Clio’s maid. Helena was about to scream and even opened her mouth but a silent moan came from her mouth. She realized everything was lost and allowed the guards had their own. Simultaneously, her guards also loosened their grip and Helena knelt on the ground unable to bear the burden of her failure. She put her bloody hands on her dusty face and wiped the tears. One of her guards also bent and tried to calm her down but she sent him away. She knew nobody could help her.

Her tuition as a hetaira helped her recover. A hetaira had to control the situation. It was useless to cry over spilt milk. She would not help Manuel, if she did not stop. She gathered her remaining power and rose. Her clothes were stained with the blood of Clio’s maid, her hands were bloody and she was all trembling. She met the amused eyes of her guards but she told them with trembling voice they had wasted too much time. She ordered two of them to search the place for any hints that could lead to the murderer and approached the third one who was studying the second victim. The guard looked up and stretched his hand. He pointed at the knife that was stuck on the back of the second victim and said,

“Kira Helena, I think the assassin had left something behind.” Helena nodded at him and he pulled the knife out of the body. The hetaira tried to find any signs or signatures on the hilt or the blade but she could not. The assassin had used absolutely plain knife that was perfect for the purpose.

“Do you remember her?” the guard asked as he stared on the pale dead face of the second woman.

“I do, she was a maid in the hetaira house.” Her attention was attracted by the bottom upward basket. The earthen jug had been broken and the wine had been spilt. Several eggs were broken and the meals the second woman had prepared for the Clio’s maid were also lying on the ground. Helena even noticed few coins around the basket. Helena pushed the basket and it fell on its bottom. In the chaos inside there were a few more coins. Helena returned the basket to the previous position and rose. It seemed the reason for the murder was not the money. He would have killed her swiftly and had run with the coins. She approached the body of the Clio’s maid again. The murderer had plenty of time to kill her. Instead the numerous stabs in her body hinted he was torturing her. He wanted to kill her but probably he also needed information from her. She had interrupted him before he could get it.

There were two scenarios and both of them worth considering. She looked at the forest where she could not see the blood and the terrible wounds of the victims... The first was… that he was a friend … of one of the two victims and he was invited to help. Contrary to her expectations… the Clio’s maid seemed to have run without anything. She could have been starving... or she had just behind robbed and left without a single coin. The second scenario was that the assassin had followed the second maid. The knife in her back truly showed large distance between her and the murderer and that… she had not expected to be watched from behind.

Helena turned back and saw one of her guards had returned. Gloomy thoughts came into her mind as she faced his grim expression, though she could not imagine what worse could have happened.

“Kira Helena, we have another body in the bushes. Her neck was snapped. I am sorry”

“Where is she?” Helena said with a determined voice and pierced the guard with her sight. The guard was reluctant to do it and tried to object but stood silent. He slightly nodded and led the hetaira to the nearest tree. As Helena approached the stem of the tree, she saw another pale face and lifeless body of familiar person. Her elder maid was dead.

Helena tried to calm down. She always knew her elder maid was disloyal to her. She even suspected her to be a spy of Constantine and Nicephorus.... Her presence… in this blood bath did not surprise her much, either. It seemed she had tracked the girl to the refuge of the Clio’s maid. She did not know that there was another person following her… or maybe she had trusted the wrong person? Confused she removed the lock of hair from her own face with a nervous gesture and tried to concentrate further on what she had found today. Her time was running out.

-------

Sorry for the delayal. Real life...

[Monk]

Free bump for the winner of 08's best Mead Hall story!

If you haven't read it, get to it!

[Ludens]

Congratulations, Stephen. It's well deserved!

[Prince Cobra]

Alexius Doukas stood clad in light armour with a bare sword in his right hand. He avoided the look of Romanus and lowered his gaze.

“Follow me,” he uttered as he put his sword back into the scabbard.

The hint of imperativeness was only there to hide how vulnerable the son of Nicephorus was, Romanus thought. He simply knew that the storm that was going to happen should not occur in such an inconvenient place. Romanus clenched his teeth and followed Alexius to a small room situated in the bottom of the training hall. It has just been emptied from the armour and weapons it kept.

Romanus shut the door behind himself. He stepped up to Alexius. With a fast movement Alexius parried his cuff and caught his fist.
“You lied to me, scoundrel” Romanus moaned and tried to hit him again. Alexius foiled his second attack and pushed him at the wall. As Romanus felt the cold stone behind his back and the clutch on his hands, he hissed helplessly at the Nicephorus’ son, “You will pay!”

“Calm down!” Alexius asked him, “What has happened?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know!” Romanus tried to free himself from the grip of Alexius but of no avail. “You were with her ”

“Relax!” Alexius said as calmly as he could and eyed at him with amusement. For a short moment Romanus almost believed he could be sincere. Maybe this was a coincidence. His uncertainty only led to another crisis and to a third unsuccessful attempt to free himself. Finally, as he realized any resistance was useless, he allowed Alexius to do whatever he wanted.

“How could you be so blind, Romanus,” Alexius dropped him and stepped back. He looked away and stared at the floor weighing his words. “I do not love her”

“You are not sincere, Alexius. I know you – you did not even dare to meet my eyes”

Alexius slowly turned his head and faced Romanus. “Yes, I was with her. But I do not love her”

Romanus knew Helena was not at her house when Alexius was absent. He had also seen how they were watching each other. He also could not imagine something different from what he feared Alexius could do with such a beautiful woman. “Don’t play with me,” he said barely conceiving the pain in his voice.

“I do not. But you are right – I need her, though in a way far different from what you think”

Romanus cast another look on him that could mean only one thing:”go on”

“You know my feelings to my dear relatives. You can draw your conclusions from there”

”You can not go that far”

Devious smile appeared on the handsome face of Alexius. Romanus wavered. Whilst there was a high chance for his fears to be unjustified, the alternative was no better.

“Alexius –“ Romanus said with worried voice, “What on earth you are doing!”

“This is my business, Romanus”

“It’s not! You repeat the mistakes of your father! ”

“I have no father, Romanus. The semblance of a father perished few days ago. ” Alexius turned his back giving freedom to his anger. “I was fed up with his parental care that was only for my brother who on the top of that turned out to be his lover. My perverted ancestor was only thinking of me as a mean to fulfill his damned ambitions. Love? It had no place in his life. ”

“Alexius – “His words disapproved what Alexius was thinking but he was also disgusted the night he learned about the relations between Nicephorus and Manuel.

“No! Do not stop me! Everybody in the family loved him… one way or another. He was the favourite son of my mother who died because of the perversions of him and my father. It is not sufficient to see him on the scaffold.” Alexius turned his head and stared at Romanus adding, “I want him to see he had lost everything beforehand. His friends - not that he had any - and his love. “

“Alexius – Watch your words! “

“Why? You think somebody can overhear us?” Alexius smiled in a way that made Romanus’ skin crawl. “I know each tunnel my father used to overhear his guests and enemies. On the top of that Theophil Branas is somewhere away, busy with other things. And he does not know the tunnels”

So the boy had his little spy network. “Constantine?”

“Constantine Matsakes knows this. But all the others are convinced I am the good son of Nicephorus and that Matsakes is trying to usurp the heritage of the Doukas puppeteering my brother. ”

As Alexius said this, he slowly approached Romanus, who noticed the strange glimpse in his eyes. The glimpse that always inspired Romanus with passion. He knew it was a bad idea to do it here but he opened his mouth only to kiss Alexius passionately. The world around them melted into excitement.

---------------

“What is your name?” Manuel looked at the other boy. He was approximately at his age, about fifteen, if not slightly younger.

“Stavrakis Ksiphia,” the boy said. Manuel remembered his family gave few notable generals to the Empire few centuries ago but then it declined. The boy was still proud of his name and probably with the achievement of his grandfather who broke his vassalage with the Latin Princes of Achaia in order to join in the reconquest of Morea against his former masters. But Manuel was not like his father. The origin did not matter. The boy seemed to be intriguing.
Manuel smiled at the boy and stretched his hand.

“As you may already know, Stavrakis, I am Manuel.”

The other boy laughed, “You do not disappoint me, Manuel. Armenopoulos was right. ”

“So you know Leo Armenopoulos?”

“Of course, I do.” Stavrakis looked aside as if he feared not to be overheard. The he approached Manuel and grinned “Don’t think I’m so dumb! I was also invited.”

“I see you are not new but yet… what does your father think?”

“Who cares about the old man?”

Manuel smiled to his new friend and added. “Good. See you later.”

“Manuel,” the Nicephorus’ son recognized the voice of the steward. He turned at tried to hide his guilty expression. The steward appeared from behind the corner and slightly nodded at the other boy,

“Kir Ksiphia, welcome. I will have to speak with Manuel on a different issue, though. ” Manuel avoided the contact with the blue eyes of Constantine. He knew this was going to be an unpleasant conversation. His only hope was that the steward has not learned about the adventure the three boys were planning in the local brothel. After brief goodbye with his new friend, Manuel followed his mentor like a quite pupil.

They passed the room of his brother Alexius. Recently his thirteen-year-old brother preferred to spend his time locked in his room. It was good because the temper of the boy was getting increasingly unpleasant. Constantine led Manuel to the yard of the Palace and as he stopped close to the stables he looked at him,

“I am sorry Manuel. Somebody poisoned him. The body is in the stables” This was the last thing Manuel thought could have happened. Without further questions, Manuel stormed into the stables and saw his large strong dog lying on the straw. There was white foam on his mouth. Manuel knelt on the ground and could barely hide his tears. For two years, since his arrival in Morea, this dog was the only one who really understood him. He had bred it from a little puppy… it seemed like yesterday when he held the furry little dog with his hands... He remembered the first time they played in the forest. Then their first hunt together… Manuel felt somebody approaching him from behind. He turned back and faced his father. For a very long moment they were watching each other.

“I always hated this animal, Manuel. Next time be more careful when you pick up your pets and this could be avoided,” his father uttered. Manuel stared at his father. The make-up was steadily getting insufficient to cover the sores - result of his incurable disease. His face was getting more and more disgusting, revealing the true nature of its owner. Manuel clenched his teeth and snarled,

“You shall pay one day… father!”

Nicephorus did not allow a single emotion to appear on his face and gave a sign to the few men around him to follow. The despot walked away with the silent knocking of the staff he used to support his weak body. Manuel was left on his knees next to his dead dog and except for Constantine there was nobody else to share his grief…

Manuel woke up. This was just another memory transformed into nightmare. Days and nights he lived with his past but he was unable to influence the present. He was locked like a cock in a cage. Few people in the outside world cared about him. And only his love was giving him the strength to continue. But why did Helena not attend him? Had she forgotten him? Or maybe something happened with her? Constantine did not tell him anything. She was well… maybe… or the steward was simply giving him time to recover. He did not know. He needed to see her, to hug her, to feel her soft black hair on his face and to kiss her lips. He had to contact her… anyhow… or he would die. He had a plan… He needed something to write on!

“Guards!” He shouted as he rose from the bed. He little cared he was a guest in the Kalamanos house. He had to be heard: this was what was important. He cursed and removed the bandage from his head and he stared at the soldier that entered into the room.

“I need a pen and paper!”

The guard looked at him with interest but after a short moment of hesitation he nodded and went out.

----

As I said somewhere, many of the dark clouds are already gone. A big thank you for the unexpected award for my story! And thanks to Monk and Ludens for the free advertisement :p I am quite glad more people than I expected read this. I only hope they will come out from the shadows.

St. Valentine is not an Orthodox holiday but it seems that in the recent years it has been adopted in Bulgaria. It is celebrated the same day as the Day of the Wine (St.Triphon’s day, 14th of February) so it fits well amongst our holidays. Apart from these interesting details, this update was influenced by the day of Love and as you may see love and sex dominate it… one way or another.

P.S. I hope you have spent the holiday well and sorry for the delay. Certain ideas about the next scenes start to appear in my head.

[Prince Cobra]

I am currently working on the next update but the work is going slow.

[ELITEofWARMANGINGERYBREADMEN88]

Nice story Stephen! I wish I could write good stories to!

[Prince Cobra]

Richard and Fernando could not even drink their first cup of wine. A scandal between two mercenaries – Albanian and French, the latter coming from Athens- broke and fierce fighting commenced. The tavern-keeper sent his servants to separate the two men but none of his boys dared to risk his life and to stop the duel. The Albanian grabbed the table and threw it at his opponent. The French evaded the blow and cursed. He drew his sword and rushed at his enemy. Surprisingly, one of the idlers watching the scene stepped in and blocked the sword. The surprised and dizzy French lost balance and fell on the ground. At the same time the man looked at the Albanian and shouted something in Greek. The Albanian snarled showing his teeth but stepped back and went out of the building. Once this was done, the man, who was obviously an officer, nodded at two of his men and pointed at the fallen French. The two men grabbed the knight and led him out of the building under the strict sight of the man. The tavern-keeper approached the officer and thanked him. The officer slightly smiled. The officer looked around and as he noticed Richard and his Catalan fellow he approached them.

“Do you know the knight?” he asked in understandable French. Richard shook his head but Fernando gave a positive answer. Richard looked at his fellow with well hidden surprise and heard the voice of the Greek soldier.

“Your friend shall watch his tongue, for he may not be so lucky next time. Also tell him that from this moment on he has a mortal enemy and he must watch his back. The Albanians are not bad people but they never forgive past offenses. This is also friendly advice to you, foreigners. ”

Fernando narrowed his eyes, “We can take care of ourselves, officer!”

“I know. But I see you were ready to rush in the battle. I am fed up with your ‘chivalric’ demonstrations. ”

“What is your name, officer?”

“John Klistenos, John the Fast Sword.”

“For I am Don Fernando Hose Lopez de Garcia. I am not a peasant to be ordered but a man of noble birth and personal guard of Alexius Doukas. Second, I am not Frenchman and I will never be. I strongly advise you to hold your mouth shut and your tongue safe behind your teeth. I have lived years in Athens and I know the Albanians well. They are even worse than the French! ”

John managed to overcome his confusion and snapped,

“I do not care about your prejudice, de Garcia. I can only tell you this Albanian is a friend of mine and he is a good man. I was indeed confused by the Frankish language you are speaking and if you were better mannered, you could have received my apologies. But you are an arrogant - “

“John!” The officer cast a devastating look at his opponent and walked to the door where a high-ranked soldier waited for him. Fernando dropped the hilt of his sword and sneered,

“It is good that Matthew interfered. Good for him”

“Matthew? Was he not –“

“Yes, he is in perfect relations with Constantine Matsakes. Less annoying Greek. “

“What on earth was this business with the Albanians?”

“Ah, I have forgotten you are new. These bastards breed into the mountains that are close to Italy. Like the Greeks these are Christians only by name, Schismatics, no worse – semi-Pagans that still keep their old and savage rituals. You probably have heard the story about the third Western Emperor of Constantinople? The poor man decided to pass through their mountains but the bastards killed him… They feasted his dead body and the skull was made into a cup and they drank wine from it… Some of them are moving south, invited by the local rulers. As if they do not know their savage nature! Wretches! ”

The Catalan spat on the floor and looked fiercely at the door where the two Greek officers were still standing. Matthew was explaining something to John the Fast Sword who shook his head in order to show his disagreement. Their argument was interrupted by a third soldier who reported something to Matthew. The officer slightly nodded at John and left. For a long moment John the Fast Sword stared at Fernando and also disappeared. The Catalan mumbled something and put his hand on the table. He pushed the cup that was full with wine and it split. The wine soiled his sleeve and the Catalan cursed in his mother language. He rose and looked at his hand. He told Richard with as calm voice as he could in this situation,

“We are going back into the Palace. I think we are at the wrong place”

After a short ride through the steep streets of Mistra, they entered the Palace. The grooms rushed to aid them and as the Alexius’ guards stepped on a solid ground they walked swiftly towards the room of Constantine Matsakes as they hoped there could be the reason for the unexpected leave of the officer. After the death of Nicephorus the number of the people attending the steward had rapidly increased as the position of the new governor was still unstable and as a chief administrator the steward had immense influence in the confusing situation. They did not reach further than the first floor when they met a young man who was just going down the stairs. As he stepped on the marble plates he looked at them.

“Richard, Fernando! I am really glad to find you here. Follow me!”

The voice of Alexius was low and mixed with surprise but still imperious. There was no time for further explanation and the two guards followed the Nicephorus’ son to the stables. There two of the Greek guards of Alexius and a stranger were waiting. In the next moment their horses were galloping down the streets of Mistra.

As the man led them through an olive forest to the mysterious destination Richard met the eyes of the Catalan. They both shared the same thoughts. Was it not a trap? Was this man to be trusted? At the same time Richard had the strange feeling they had met somewhere but it was hard to say if it was in the gloomy taverns of Morea or in the cultured atmosphere of the Palace. Suddenly the guide stopped and people approached them. Unaware of what was happening Richard touched his sword and prepared for the worst. However, the Greek speech did not sound as the one preceding a battle. Richard rode to the place where Alexius was standing in order to get a clearer idea of what was happening. The son of the despot dismounted and walked on the glade. Amazed by what he saw there, Richard followed his example. He approached the lifeless body of one of the victims and stared at her face with a hope. The young woman was of course dead and it was really pity that her life ended prematurely but he felt slightly better. The mysterious woman he saw this morning was not her. He walked towards the other body and then to the third victim. He did not know any of them. The ice in his blood melted as the summer heat finally penetrated his body. The sun was no longer burning his skin.

He looked left at Alexius who had knelt next to one of the bodies.

“Where…” Alexius asked their guide but the rest the Englishman could not comprehend. He approached his master as he was serving his duty but in fact he wanted to learn more. He looked at the guide who was hesitating what to answer. The truth struck him like a lightning: the man was one of the guards of Helena, the hetaira. He forced his senses in order to understand the delayed answer of Helena’s guard,

“In the house”

Alexius rose as suddenly as he was struck by a wasp and looked at the nearest person next to him. Richard.

“You come with me. You, too” he nodded at one of his Greek guards. “You two,” he ordered at the Catalan and the remaining Greek, “stay here until Kir Branas arrive.”

Slightly tired of the ride from and back to Mistra, the three riders approached the house where Helena lived. An old groom approached them.

“Nicholas, where is she?” Alexius asked the groom. The old man shook his head. Alexius caught his lie and jumped on the ground. He pierced the old man with his eyes and swiftly walked to the main building. Richard and the Greek guard also left their horses to the bewildered groom and rushed to aid their master if needed. It seemed all the doors were opened for Alexius. A single look on the enraged aristocrat and his armoured guards was enough to put down any resistance from the servants who even told him where the Helena’s room was.

“Helena! I am Alexius. ” Alexius knocked at the door but nothing happened. He repeated his appeal with a louder but very worried voice and finally the door unlocked and opened. Richard heard the soft but slightly trembling voice of Helena.

“Don’t worry,” Alexius said and gave a clear order “Richard, you stay on the door.” He looked at his other guard. “You guard the corridor. I do not want to be interrupted, right? By anybody!”

The Greek nodded and went on his post while Richard stood before the door. The Englishman had a certain idea about why he was put to guard the door. He was not a native speaker and therefore there was high chance not to understand what Helena and Alexius were talking about. Richard indeed heard somebody was talking. However, the voice was too loud and too rude to be of Alexius. It was coming from the stairs. Richard saw the Greek guard touched his sword and stepped back. The guard resembled one of the big hooded poisonous snakes that moved back only to attack in the next moment with a lightning speed. The man who interrupted him was a fat and short man with little hair left on his head. The stranger snorted out something and in his voice Richard recognised both surprise and irritation. What was worse, the man had two strong men on his left and right side and the Greek guard quickly understood situation was delicate. He started a vague excusal that slightly reduced the tension but after that the guard started with more serious voice. Richard caught most of the words and phrases: the man told the innkeeper that he can not enter because he has strict orders from his master namely Alexius Doukas. The innkeeper moved his amused sight on Richard but the Englishman knew he was watching the door. After a very short moment of hesitation he met the eyes of the Greek guard. Richard used all of his knowledge on the Greek language so that he can understand his words. “I want to speak with Kir Doukas immediately” was what he understood. It was turn of the Greek to hesitate. None of them spoke in the next few moments but the house was not silent. Tramping of boots was echoing in the house. Somebody was climbing on the second floor. The Greek guard suddenly froze as a familiar voice spoke. A dark hooded figure appeared from the stairs. The guard suggested informing Alexius for his presence but the man slightly shook his head and said something like “I myself will inform him”. Richard was amused because the guard did not rush to inform Alexius about the presence of this man. After all he was supposed to be with a beautiful woman… The man put down his hood and politely nodded at him and spoke in perfect French,

“Kir de Hall, inform Kir Alexius Doukas that the steward of Mistra wants to speak with him.”

Richard met his piercing blue eyes but resisted the look. His look slowly slipped down the face of the steward and noticed the edge of his mouth curled in a discrete smile. Richard hesitated what he should do but he had no alternative. He turned back and opened the door. At first he opened it slightly in order to warn the couple and then he hurried to enter the solar without exposing too much to the eyes of the steward. There was not a silent horrified cry and panic in the room. There were no people covering their naked bodies with the blankets and the angry face of his master. Instead he faced the expressionless countenance of Alexius who was sitting at a polite distance from the hetaira. Alexius was in his mourning black clothes and Helena wore fine yellow linen dress. After a long and unpleasant moment of embarrassment, Richard reported to Alexius that he has an unexpected guest. Alexius rose on his feet and after he cast last look on Helena, he went to meet the steward. Richard politely nodded at the lady and followed his master closing the door behind him. Alexius Doukas approached his visitor. They hugged as they were friends for years and then Alexius looked at the steward. He greeted the older man and asked him if there is anything he can do. Kir Matsakes answered with a determined voice that in fact there is but he preferred a private conversation. Alexius slightly turned at his guards and gave them a sign to wait him in the corridor. His face was as expressionless as stone. In the next moment Matsakes and Alexius silently disappeared from their eyes.
-----

His friends Stavrakis Ksiphia and Leo Armenopoulos were watching at him with amused eyes. He was canceling their attendance to the hetaira. They have even hired several elite prostitutes to make the feast funnier. All of them had lied their fathers to get the money one way or another and there were weeks of hiding and planning. Now this man behaved like an eunuch just because he had lost his dog. Manuel read all this on their faces

”And how will you help to your dog? He is dead and nothing can return him”

Manuel did not reply to Leo. Anger was growing in his heart but he feared to speak. It was not only because of his father’s spies that were probably lurking in the darkness. It was his inability to describe with simple words what death he wished for his father. This man had ravished his life, raped him and killed his mother. Now he removed the creature that filled the part of this huge gap. He loved Constantine but as the father he never had. His dog was like a brother. The silent brother he could cry with and tell him the bitter truth…

“Look, you look horrible, Manuel,” Stavrakis shook his head. “You need something… but you behave like an eunuch. Locking in your room will do no good for you!”

The idea to lock himself inside reminded him of his brother. The favourite son of his father, his younger copy. “I will not lock inside my room!”

“You need somebody!” Leo said. In the next moment Manuel caught his friend cast a discrete look at Stavrakis but he did not know what exactly this meant.

“I don’t need to attend whores right now!”

“Nobody asks you to do so. I will cancel this evening feast, though I think Kira Clyo will be very disappointed. ”

“I don’t care what this hetaira feels now.”

“Of course. My idea was different, Manuel. What about riding to the local olive forests? It is close to the Monastery of Archangel Michael. This is maybe the most fantastic place in whole of Mistra region. ”

“Look -”

“I know what you feel. I have also lost people I love. Closing inside does not help. Especially when there is nobody to understand you. Trust me!”

“Leo-”

“Or maybe you will let your father triumph? To see you weak… You know why he did it… He killed your dog because the old man was losing control on you. He wanted to crush you and to show you who rules. Show him you are stronger than him! And one day we will wring the neck of this man!”

“Leo, there could be spies!”

“I don’t care,” Leo said but Manuel could see his face slightly became pale. “This is the truth. Now I leave you. If you change your opinion, you know where to find us.” Leo cast another look on Stavrakis Ksiphia and they both rose and prepared to leave. Now as he was about to stay alone he realized how right Leo was. His father wanted to destroy his happiness and to make him a slave of his misery just like himself. But he was not to give up. If he was finally to die in the struggle against his father, he will do it with dignity. Nicephorus had power over his survival but not over his soul. Manuel will not give him this pleasure.

“Wait!” He told his friends still fighting his grief. “I will come to… the ride.”

Leo Armenopoulos stopped and turned back. “Great! Prepare your horse and I will join you in a minute. “

“Leo, you know I will not go to the party this evening.”

“As you wish.”

Stavrakis stayed with Manuel and helped him prepare the horse in the stables. Manuel loved horses and he often preferred the work of the grooms himself. This time, Stavrakis also sent his groom away and joined Manuel.

“We have not been hunting for ages, mate! What do you think about it?”

“If you mean the hunt that my father organizes, I will not join. I hate hawking and my dog is dead – “

“Sorry”

“Would you help me, here. Please help me with the saddle.”

“Of course”

As Stavrakis approached him and put his hand on the saddle, Manuel said with a silent voice and winked at him,

“Maybe I can go to hunt foxes. But I doubt I will find them in the forest. ”

After that he met the amazed look of Stavrakis and nodded at him. “Let’s hurry on: Leo is probably waiting for us.”

Leo was indeed waiting for them. And they went down the streets of Mistra having a vivid conversation about the latest scandal in the city caused by Leo. Then out of the blue, a large carriage approached them. Four armoured horsemen were guarding it and were clearing the way through the crowded main street of Mistra. Suddenly the carriage stopped right before Manuel Doukas. The door was opened and there was a woman in expensive blue clothes and a veil on her face. The shouting and the noise around suddenly went down but Manuel could not understand if it was because of his own surprise or because the people seldom saw an upper class woman outside her home. The woman gave him a sign to enter with her in the carriage observing him with her fascinating eyes. All the thoughts went out of the head of Manuel and it was not until he heard the voice of Leo Armenopoulos when he realized what he had to do.

“This is Kira Clyo, the hetaira, silly! Go and we will meet you later. “

Manuel dismounted and left his horse in the hands of his friends. As he entered the carriage of the hetaira and he closed the door behind himself, the carriage started to move again. Manuel did not know where he was traveling nor did he care about it. The face of the hetaira was still hidden but many delicate parts of her body were already not so well covered. It seemed this woman was designed to be perfect. Her gentle skin and nice forms combined with the jasmine aroma that was filling the air made her irresistible. The woman reached out her hand and for moment Manuel thought she was going to remove the scarf covering her breasts. Instead she took off the veil from her face. The beautiful face smiled on Manuel and the flock of heir that was left negligibly to fall on her face made her look as a new Aphrodite. The surprise of Manuel increased when he realized that this Pagan goddess was not a silent statue.

“You are disappointing me, Manuel! I learned you will not come to my party” These were her first words but how her intonation told more than the words. She spoke as she was an angel but the glint in her eyes was of a devil.

“This is not true. I -” She stopped him with a short glimpse of her eyes.

“I know the story. The hetaira knows everything” Manuel tried to open his mouth and to explain away but the magic of the hetaira had sealed his lips.

“Yet… you are attractive.” She said passionately as she slowly calmed the gentle skin of her neck. “Now I see Leo description was quite accurate, though he said you are slightly more talkative… I hope you will come to my party… I have certain surprises about you.” She calmed her thigh as she intended to remove a wrinkle from it. “You have been with women, Manuel… How many women have you slept with, Manuel Doukas? One, two, or ten…”

Manuel tried to answer but the hetaira stopped him again, “It does not matter. You have never been with a hetaira, Manuel.” Clyo bent and whispered in his ear, “People always remember their first time… and their first time with a hetaira. “ Manuel tried to find her lips but as he turned his head she had bent on her cushion again. She smiled, “Patience is a virtue. Don’t behave like Leo!” Manuel slightly laughed that she was flattering him. Clyo drew away the dark curtains and glanced what was happening outside. She looked back at Manuel. “Yes, you are younger than him. Almost sixteen years old. But your body is far stronger. What do you do in your leisure time? Swimming, riding, and hunting? You have used to be the hunter but this will be no more… “ She caught his thigh and plunged her nails into Manuel’s flesh. “From this day on you are mine… the most powerful man in Morea will be mine…” Manuel lost control on his body and rushed at her. He was deaf and senseless consumed by his passion for her body. The hetaira tried to push him but she was too weak. Her clumsy attempts only delayed the inevitable when something unexpected happened. The door of the carriage opened. The confusion slightly lifted the darkness that has fallen on his mind and he felt shame and confusion. The hetaira tidied up her dress and smiled and Manuel tried to leave the carriage. However, she caught his arm.

“As I said, what happened now was only a prelude to what will happen this night,” she whispered in his ear. Before he left, he looked at her eyes. There was not a single trace of fear and her face had broadened into a lewdly leer. This was the last thing he saw in his dream.

In the solar there was another woman. But how different she was from the one he dreamt… She was clad in fine black dress that tried to hide the imperfections of her plump body. There was no lust on her face but a discrete friendly smile. She put the food on the small table situated next to Manuel.

“I brought some food. Your favourite veal and grapes for dessert. You need to be strong. “

“Kira Kalamanos -”

“Yes, I am but you should not excite too much. Once you really scared us.”

“I am sorry. I do not know what happened with me…” He was slightly embarrassed by the kindness of the widow and also by the fact he was almost naked in her presence. “Thank you for the hospitability, “he added.

“No, Manuel, the door of my house is always opened for you. Whatever the people say about you, I continue to think you are a good boy and you have always been. I am seldom mistaken in my judgment about the people around me”

“You are very kind, Kira Kalamanos.”

“I can say the same for you, Manuel. In fact Kir Matsakes told me that you are going to leave few more days in the house. He wants you to be fully recovered when you leave my home”

“But I thought my father’s funeral is tomorrow -”

“No, the steward was against your presence on the event. I also think you need a quiet place to relax. If it was up to me, I would leave you in my home as long as possible. ”

“Why? Is there anything that has happened?”

“No, Manuel, nothing bad has happened.”

“Helena? How is she?”

“She is well.”

“My brother?”

“He is also well. You should not worry.” The widow smiled again.

“But why does Con- the steward want to keep me away from the funeral? He insisted on my attending the funeral of Nic- my father?”

“I told you, Manuel, he wants to be certain you will fully recover. You have no idea how much he blamed on himself for his obstinacy after the accident in the church. He will not repeat his mistake. “

Kira Kalamanos passed her observant eyes over the face of Manuel and added, “It is strange that people need to make a mistake in order to learn a lesson. It is in our nature. Manuel, you have always been an inquisitive and quite naughty, if not a little unruly boy. I know you never liked the restrictions around you but we have to put up with the reality at this stage. If you want to know anything more, I am always ready to answer you… if I know the answer, of course.”

“Thank you, Kira Kalamanos.”

“Now, I do not plan to bore you any more and I suggest that you move on more practical issues like tasting my food and blaming on my cook for the bad quality of the food. Sorry, I hate mushrooms and there are not any in my kitchen. For the same reason there is no garlic you love so much. But I hope you will find decent compensation for it in the meal. I will not forgive to myself if my guest dies of hunger. Now I take my leave. If you need anything, feel free to call for me whenever you want. ” Kira Kalamanos rose from the chair near his bed and walked away. Manuel was uncertain whether to ask her for the progress of the investigation but how this woman could know about details…She would already have told him if there was anything important… He also felt hungry as the veal looked really tempting. He patiently waited for Kira Kalamanos to leave the solar and took the dish. He stabbed the meat with the fork and bit it. As he was chewing the fantastic veal he took into consideration he had to have a bath. Then… he would wait for Constantine and other expected and unexpected guests who can provide him with more information about the world outside his golden cage. Maybe he would also receive answer of his letter to Helena.

---


Finally, I did it. This was a time-consuming update, I admit.

About the Albanians: The story that the Catalan tells is the death of the third Latin Emperor Peter of Courtenay. His death was the final blow that the Latin Empire and its knighthood suffered. After that it was nothing but a walking dead. This was done by the Greek ruler of Epirus (Epirus is one of the three centers of the Byzantine restauration; the other were Nicaea and the last is Trabzon; these feuded with each other) Theodore Angelus Doukas (not to be confused with the Nicephorus' branch of the Doukas) in the Albanian mountains. Whether his blood was really used for drink and his skull for a cup, whether the temper of the Albanians is indeed as fierce as the Catalan claimed, I leave to the readers to decide. The rest of the story have much to tell.

Btw, at that time most of the Albanians were Orthodox, though some Pagan beliefs were quite alive. Furthermore, many of the local rulers in the tiny principalities in Greece invited them i n their lands to increase their population and taxpayers.

[Monk]

Your form is much improved Stephen but still needs tweaking. While your format is getting very refined, you begin to overstate or mistate things. Such as:

It was turn of the Greek to hesitate.

Should be instead.

Now it was the Greek's turn to hesitate.

Grammar is always a tricky thing, and God knows I'm not perfect at it, but try to edit your pieces at least twice before posting. There is really no point at which you will be editing too much imho. Try to break every paragraph down and look at them individually, parse first for the big things like spelling then go on to looking for comma splices and run-ons, you get the idea.



You still have a tendency to tell rather than show, which I must remind you to work on.

The first example of this that I saw was in telling the story of the Albanians.

“Ah, I have forgotten you are new. These bastards breed into the mountains that are close to Italy. Like the Greeks these are Christians only by name, Schismatics, no worse – semi-Pagans that still keep their old and savage rituals. You probably have heard the story about the third Western Emperor of Constantinople? The poor man decided to pass through their mountains but the bastards killed him… They feasted his dead body and the skull was made into a cup and they drank wine from it… Some of them are moving south, invited by the local rulers. As if they do not know their savage nature! Wretches! ”

It's just a wall of dialogue that informs me, the reader, what happened. I also understand the need for you to recount this for a character, but a long line of dialogue needs to be (imo) broken up. Was the Catalan just standing there the entire time, droning on and on about this? Well say that! Show how he is speaking, is he moving around? Is he indifferent? Is he angry? Is someone not listening? Ect. All of these things really help liven up a conversation block, and all of them really keep your reader interested.

The second example of this I have is:

None of them spoke in the next few moments but the house was not silent. Tramping of boots was echoing in the house.

You tell the reader the house was not silent, and then you show them. Instead, just show them. Images are always much more powerful without being informed of their arival. You can do that when you're trying to build suspense, but here I believe just showing (and not telling) would work much better.

It's good to see you are still hard at work on this, and I do enjoy reading it. Looking forward to the next installment.

[Ludens]

I second everything Monk said, including that I look forward to the next part . Please continue .

[Prince Cobra]

Helena,

I miss you. Days and nights I think only about you. Kira Kalamanos is very kind, the guards treat me well. But nothing can change the truth: I miss you. I wish I could free myself from my golden cage and see you. I am sorry if I sound naïve and stupid but this is the first time I have ever written a letter to you - no - the first time I ever write a letter to anybody I love. Helena, many things could happen and in case I… die, there are certain things I want you to know. First, forgive me for all the suffering I have caused to you. You are a very good person and a loyal friend. You are also the only person I have truly loved. It took me years to realize my true feelings to you. How this happened I can not tell in this letter. I only know one thing. I love you and I can not live without you. I know you have heard these words many times… and I have few means to persuade you in the opposite. You can not feel the passion of my voice because the thick walls of the Kalamanos house stand between us. You can not feel my trembling hands because you are so far away. I need you.

With love,

Manuel

The hands rolled the parchment and slid over the table. The eyes closed. The thoughts were flowing again in the proper direction. He had won. What had been left unfinished by Nicephorus was now completed. The shadow of the late despot filled the space around him and chased him from the shadows of his mind. Constantine opened his eyes and the rays of the setting sun brought him back to the living world.

The ice around his heart had finally started melting. Years and years he and Nicephorus were partners in a deadly dance. They started their way as people who believed in ideals and ready to die for their friends and beliefs. It was first Nicephorus who cast the seeds of corruption in his soul and led the dance to the abyss of self-destruction. He followed. From that moment there was no power that could stop them. Nicephorus was the first to hesitate but Constantine forced him to continue. And together they seized the power they dreamed so much. And together they lost any hope for salvation. Nicephorus was the first to fall: attacked and poisoned in the streets of Constantinople he became a leper and a shadow of his former self. He failed to leave somebody behind. He destroyed his family in the net of his intrigues. When he attempted to bring life to his bloodline, it was too late. He was no longer the spider but a fly. And Constantine’s power grew even more… or maybe he was just a bigger insect in this trap.

Yes, he finally started missing Nicephorus. He was a disgusting leper, a man who had satisfied his passions in a horrible way, an unscrupulous politician… But he had been a living man, a man who was tortured by his own conscious and his fears, and a man who tried to change the past… Now he was a ghost from another world. A shadow sent to foretell the nemesis of those who assisted him in the total corruption. Empty space that can no longer support Constantine in his lonely way. They were like brothers… No, they were brothers… They had one father: Alexius Doukas the Elder. And yet Constantine did not have so much of incest in his blood. Alexius the Elder seduced a poor girl that had little means to withstand his power and strength. But at least Lucas Matsakes raised him as his own son and even recognized him as his bastard. Nicephorus was born from a political marriage between Alexius and his cousin. He had no shelter from his father. They had so much in common and yet they were so different. Some crimes of Nicephorus can not be forgiven even by the man who assisted him and covered his traces. Even by him…

Nicephorus was right about one thing. Helena and Manuel had to be separated. However, Nicephorus lacked the thorough knowledge of his heir. He also failed to utilize his proverbial patience when handling Manuel. It was good he had him by his side. It was he who always persuaded Nicephorus to pay the debts for his son. It was he who selected most of the people around Manuel. Clyo: she was the perfect mistress, perverted and with a rich imagination; Ephigenia: the girl was for plainer needs and… daily use… a cheaper pleasure each man needed. Of course, there were numerous other nameless women, both beautiful and not so much, who also played their share in his plan. Most of the people around Manuel were chosen by him, including most of his friends. When Manuel needed something, Constantine was always there to respond his need and to guide it in the proper direction. Were the traits hereditary? Maybe they were. Manuel always looked like his uncle… from his mother’s side. Poor man, he was even more confused than Nicephorus… In fact they were distant cousins… Yes, they were. Fortunately, Manuel was stronger than Nicephorus.


From all the candidates, Helena was the most suitable, though, of course, love has little connection with the logic… It was luck…to a large extend… She was sixteen year-old girl who met a boy in her age… She was taught in the manners of a hetaira but her hot temper added her flavour. She slept with Manuel… he liked her… But they did not have much time to know each other. She became pregnant… and lost the child. Her relations with Manuel cracked and they split off. Year ago they met again… She realized he was not guilty for the death of her child. She seduced him and started a long struggle. This time they were more mature… the romance started again. Nicephorus made the stupid attempt to use her as his spy… This was a doomed task. He only encouraged their affair until Manuel realized he was in love with her. Nicephorus became aware of his mistake but it was too late. The despot’s plan failed and led to many complications. Helena did not win, though. She was too tired of the long struggle for the heart of Manuel. Finally, she could not resist the charm of Alexius. Or maybe she was in love with her ideal of him. It mattered little for he knew how to handle the situation.


Somebody knocked on the door and entered. The servant bowed his master. Without much delay Constantine instructed him.

“I read the letter and I have drawn certain conclusions. The most important of them is that Manuel is still in love with that harpy Helena Theodorina. We have to act swiftly if we want to end this madness.” Constantine put his hand on the parchment with Manuel’s letter and studied the face of his servant, “I know what you think: Manuel is too precious and his condition is delicate. You are not the only one who underestimates him. He will endure the pain. “Constantine calmed the letter of Manuel and added, “The task is delicate but I know you can cope with it. Leave the initiative to Manuel – he will fall into the trap. Leave the rest to me. “


“Kir Matsakes, when do you want this to happen?”

The steward slightly smiled. The years of partnership had made him familiar with the tactics of his master. The right moment was of essence. “Tomorrow. About an hour after lunch.” Then he will be on the funeral of the despot but the event will be coming to its end. If something went very wrong Constantine could intervene.

The servant waited patiently to be dismissed. After a short eye contact between them it became clear the agent was ready to take the task. The steward slightly nodded and the agent bowed. He went out but Constantine expected somebody else. He took the letter in order to prepare it. He carefully spilled a melted red wax on the letter right on the place where the previous seal had been. Then he put the replica of Manuel’s seal on it. He took off the gloves aside and waited. The second agent knocked on the door and entered in. Few short instructions and he gave him the letter.

“To Helena”

Helena shall receive the letter this evening. Manuel’s trust would also be unharmed: the letter was sent to the receiver. It will be too late for her to do anything. No, she will try… and make a mistake. Satisfied by the planned outcome, the steward broke the seal of another letter containing valuable information about the next move of the judge Theophil Branas.

----------------
Helena sat on the single chair in her room and removed the veil from her head. She unbraided her waist-long heir and slowly started combing it. The day looked as if it was going to be perfect but ended disastrously. Three more victims fell and she narrowly missed being condemned for their murder. Alexius saved her again but she already knew he was expecting a certain price to be paid. Theodore, the innkeeper, finally seemed to have realized the real complexity of her position and restricted himself to forbidding her to interfere in men’s business. Constantine Matsakes also avoided any contact with her that day. Manuel continued to be locked in the Kalamanos house. She quickened her movements, combing faster and faster until she realized she could damage her hair. She dropped the comb and she bent her body on the wall placing the cushion between the stone and her body. Manuel deserved what had happened with him. He never listened to her. He never thought of his survival. Instead he built the heaven with his words and crushed their future with his deeds. She wished he had been different… But she could not leave him die in his cage. This was the least she owed to him. He was not a murderer. Another shadow came out in her mind. Dark enigmatic eyes, handsome, intelligent and even cunning face… He had strong body and was strong willed… He seemed to be everything that Manuel was not…

She pressed her palms in the soft bed and dragged her body closer to the wall. Having taken a more comfortable position, she adjusted the cushion. Now she was almost sitting on the bed staring at the dark corners of her room. She looked at the candle and blew it out. The smell of wax and burnt matter filled the air around Helena. The darkness of her room now mirrored her weary soul. Only few rays of moonlight went through the curtains of her room swayed by the warm night wind. The pleasant smell of pine and cypresses filled the air again. She slightly relaxed and closed her eyes. She could listen to the whispering of the silent night. She had to hear the voice of her intuition. Owlet cry streaked the air, dog started barking. Voices were heard in the silent inner yard of the house. Helena rose from the bed and went to the window. She removed the curtain and looked at the empty yard. A single shadow walked back to his post. And everything became motionless again. Helena stepped back without drawing the curtains again. Instead she looked up at the full moon. Wind calmed her cheeks. Only a fortnight ago, she and Manuel were watching together the new moon with hope about their future. She could still hear his surprisingly soft voice in her ears and his warm body next to hers. The wind blew new sounds from the sleeping world to her ears. These were the sounds of world of intrigues and deception in the capital of Morea, in the world of Matsakes and Raoul. A sudden idea came into her mind and she stared somewhere beyond the roofs of the houses. Maybe she had a plan.

A sudden sound shook her off and she turned at the door.

“Helena!” She heard a familiar voice. “Helena,” the voice repeated. She hesitated for a while but she finally went to the door and unlocked it. The shadow slid into her room.

“What are you doing here?”

“I know I have made a mistake” The eyes of Alexius kindled under the hood. “But I fear for you.”

“Why?” she moved back in order to make her sound more convincing, “I am safe here!”

“You are not,” he shook his head. He put his hands on her and explained, “A good assassin can easily neutralize your guards. I will change that. “

“You are mad! This is a property of Theodore,” she lied.

“He agreed. He had no other choice”

“What?” Without any difficulty she freed himself from his hands. She eyed him with amusement.

“He can explain you. I will double the guards with my trusted men”

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I love you, Helena.” Alexius said as he removed his hood. “This is all!”

He put his trembling hands on her waist and hugged her. The dark flames in his eyes burnt her and she felt his lips . In the next moment she felt he was calming her shoulder baring it. His cloak fell on the ground leaving only a thin shirt between her and his strong body. Her will was waning but she managed to avoid his next kiss that fell on her neck. She stepped back but stumbled in the fallen cloak. Alexius caught her on time. The moon light shined his handsome face. The flames were gone.

“Are you well?” His worried voice touched her heart. But she was not ready. She was not a whore to give in so easy.

“I am. But I am not ready”

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No, it is not your fault. I am just not ready. I am still very confused. ” She shook her head and covered her shoulder again. “You should not have come here.”

“I am sorry,” he said but stayed motionless. His worried eyes were staring at her. The contrast with his passionate expression was staggering.

“I am well, do not worry,” she tried to calm him down. She read understanding in his eyes and he withdrew. Alexius neatened his black shirt, put his silver cross beneath it, and took his dark blue cloak.

“Forgive me,” he said with soft voice as he eyed her again. “I will not disturb you anymore. “ Alexius rose. He was going out when Helena told him,

“Our arrangement stays, right?”

The man stopped before the door and turned back. “Yes. I will come to take you” He said silently and took his leave.

-----------
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More than a month suspense. I have been working on this chapter then I abandoned it and then I again resumed the work. The Constantine's monologue was written twice then rewritten. I hope the result is satisfactory. I would not say that the dialogue between Helena and Alexius had a better fate.

The next update is challenging because I finally reached the funeral of Nicephorus. Two years and a half I am writing less than 1 week in this story. I really do not know if I will be able to handle it.

Btw, as some have noticed this year I and The Flax are planning a cooperative story (it was his idea ). I can not reveal much I proposed him to work on a scene from my story that has always been into my mind. He accepted and I hope it will be soon posted. Basically, the current story is somewhere in the middle of the Byzantine Intrigues. The first part that was slowly built into my mind was about the meeting of Constantine and Nicephorus, their first steps together. I don't know if this will be ever put on paper but from time to time certain scenes can appear on different occasions. Like the one I posted in the Mead Hall Writers Society. If you want to see what kind of people Constantine and Nicephorus were as young people follow through these lines.

The Stolen wife

Point of view of Constantine Matsakes

Constantine Matsakes followed the maid who led him through the dark corridors of the house. As he approached his aim, he felt that strange and pleasant feeling of a man who had met the suitable woman. He knew his case was slightly different. There was no love with her, only passion. She was bored by her stupid and fat husband and he missed a company of a woman since he entered in service in the Doukas family. He could have bought a prostitute for the night but it lacked that challenge to seduce a woman. He could have tried to sleep with an ordinary woman as she did so many times. This could have saved him from the problems of the present situation. They were many: a jealous and relatively powerful husband who had the right to kill them both for adultery; sleeping with woman in higher social position also hid certain risks. The little problem was that he had a big mouth and few days before he claimed that he could bring such a noble woman in his bed with a single look. He did not want to lose face before his friends Nicephorus Doukas and Dyogenus Branas who were also risking much guarding the house.

Nicephorus was right to be against such an adventure. He could have persuaded Dyogenus not to help Constantine and maybe he, Constantine, would have sat patiently at home. Something different happened: Nicephorus changed his mind and joined them. Constantine was sure this decision was connected with the quarrel with his father. Constantine had to do something. He did not.

The maid reached to a small door and opened it. She was so discrete than Constantine was no longer disturbed by her presence, though he was sure she was waiting before the door and probably would overhear everything. Constantine hesitated only for a moment and entered in the chamber. He knew he was not alone. On the large bed there was a silhouette of a woman. He felt her perfume. He approached her. She rose and stared at his eyes. She was slightly trembling but Constantine knew she did not fear him. He had a mask on his face, his black cowl and black gloves but she felt it as a part of the game. She needed his body. He needed hers. Faces were not necessary: they only make everything more difficult. They both had come to enjoy themselves. He felt her hands on his chest. He started kissing her neck and she sighed. He removed her dressing gown… They were soon naked with their bodies twined into one.


Point of view of Dyogenus Branas

He was watching the house. For him this was the way to get rid of his problems. In fact his problems were not very important. It was Nicephorus who had real problems. Nicephorus had to hide his secrets from his father, Nicephorus had to bear all these humiliations. Alexius was a horrible example and Dyogenus Branas feared this might influence Nicephorus badly. The case with Constantine was slightly different. The whole story was slightly funny. They were feeding the peacocks in the Doukas family house and suddenly they saw very strange couple: beautiful woman and fat and ugly husband. Constantine was watching them with interest and when Nicephorus asked him what he saw, Constantine replied “ Cuckold and his wife” . A conversation started and Constantine was trying to persuade them how easy he could seduce that woman. Dyogenus decided to check that. Now he wondered if he had gone too far If Constantine was caught by the husband the whole story could end in very tragic way. This made the story more different than the adventures of his cousin Theophil Branas. Theophil never seduced married noblewoman in their own houses. Nicephorus also participated and Dyogenus did not want even to think about the reaction of his father. In fact, Dyogenus had evidence to think that Nicephorus changed his mind namely because of that slap from his father.

“ He must hurry on, if he wants to get out of this place “ somebody close to Dyogenus hissed. Dyogenus looked at Nicephorus and tried to ease him

“ You should not worry. I am sure everything will be fine “

“ It won’t. “ Nicephorus said and went out of the small forest. It seemed he was leaving them.

“Nicephorus what are you doing “

“ Look who is coming and then we will speak, “ Nicephorus said with silent but determined voice. Somebody was really approaching them. This was the fat figure of the husband. He had to warn Constantine as soon as possible.

Point of view of Nicephorus Doukas

Nicephorus touched his swollen lip with his tongue. One day his father would pass and he would face his judgement. What he had to do was to wait patiently. Just like now. He did not know what made him change his mind. Maybe he feared Constantine could make anything stupid without him. At least he was there to prevent it. Maybe he went with his friends since he was hurt again by his father and wanted to cause pain to the others as well. He knew it was probably the both of them. This was a mistake. He had to show more will and to stop it. Thus any accidents would have been avoided and nobody would have suffered because of his inferiority complex. In such moments Nicephorus hated himself.

He was not sure if the others caught the irony of the present situation. It was both funny and tragic. Nicephorus spent much of his time with the peacocks in the garden. They distracted him with their beauty and helped him to forget his humiliation. They also could not hurt him in the way the human beings could. The husband of this wife resembled them: he had forgotten the good feather was not enough in the world of the humans. He faced the consequences. It was tragic because this story could end very badly for the participants and because even in a ‘good end ‘ nothing would be the same again. Nicephorus was not sure that anybody of his fellows realized that. None of them was a fool but they were still behaving slightly immaturely. He knew the wife would never be again after these meeting. Thanks to the skills of Constantine she had stepped that line she would probably continue with her adulteries. Nicephorus had also learned she was separated by the man she loved and sent far away from him. He wondered if this would be his own fate when he married Anna Angelina, his fiancee. Finally, he could not hide his irritation

“ He must hurry on, if he wants to get out of this place “

He met the eyes of Dyogenus for a while and then looked at the street. He saw riders. He recognized their leader: the fat and ugly husband. He knew what was going to happen if he did not interfere. Dyogenus Branas would go to call Constantine but he would be short of time and who knew what would happen. In addition the poor woman could suffer even more.



“ You should not worry. I am sure everything will be fine, “ he heard the answer of Dyogenus who obviously did not see them.

“ It won’t. “ Nicephorus said and went out of the small forest. He climbed on his horse and ride it towards the other horsemen. He had no other choice.

“Nicephorus what are you doing? “


“ Look who is coming and then we will speak “ Nicephorus whispered. Finally, Dyogenus had seen the threat and disappeared. He had gone to warn Constantine.

Nicephorus was alone. He knew what he had to do. He knew he was son of his father. He also wore grain of that evil, which obsessed his father. Nicephorus knew he could influence the people when he needed. However, unlike his father he used it without that devilish pleasure and he did only when there was no other way to help his friends. Constantine was in trouble. He had to put the mask of the monster once again. He had to make the nobleman listen to him and to give some time to Constantine to leave the house. He knew he would do it. This was not a trap. The men looked calm and were not many. He always won unlike his father. His father would lose one day and he would be there to watch his downfall.

When the distance became short enough, Nicephorus spoke with determined voice,

“ Good evening, Kir Tarchaniottes. I waited for you. “

[Prince Cobra]

Just to keep you informed. This will be a loong pause, I think. The funeral of Nicephorus is an important part in the chain of events in this story. I need it to be my best chapter ever but right now I am quite busy and I am not quite in the proper codnition for writing it. I think that until July I will resume writing.

The funerals of members of the Imperial family (and Nicephorus is one bec. of the marriage with Anna) are always special events.

[Prince Cobra]

The woman screamed and collapsed. She grabbed the dust from the street and threw it on her black headcover. Another woman rushed to help her. But the sorrow overcame her and she joined the sorrowful songs of the choir of women. Even the earth had been moved by the laments for the great leader the people lost. It seemed it trembled each time the bells rang. Three tolls followed by pause, three hits of the bell tongue on the copper – pause, ring-ring-ring-pause. Three bell tolls and pause - for man and not of a single church but of the whole town - for a leader. Cold metal and hired weepers gave magnificence to the funeral ceremony, Constantine thought. He looked at the crowds. These tattered souls were also watching their former ruler coffin with eyes full of tears. Their grief was not that spectacular but it was real. This had a very inner meaning. The most beautiful things in the life of Nicephorus were not spectacular. Mainly his friendship and the love he felt for Dyogenes Branas. It was shameful, it was not appropriate – yes – but it was real and… beautiful. Before his rise this made him stronger, able to resist his father and the hatred in his soul. After he entered the policy, this was the only thing that prevented him from falling into the abyss of corruption and self-destruction, though he was staggering on the edge. From the three friends, Dyogenes was the only one who never really corrupted. His gift, his relative purity of the soul, led to his destruction. At a certain moment he had become too inconvenient, an obstacle he, Constantine Matsakes, removed with his own hand. As if it was yesterday when it was the funeral of Dyogenes. The black horses pulling the coffin of the dead, the black clothes of the priests, the people who were walking in silent chain to the burial place. Nicephorus never recovered after that. The more powerful he was, the more he deceived himself that he was happy. There were more lovers but none of them filled even a part of the emptiness in his heart. Worse, the death of Dyogenes awakened the hidden monster in his soul. Nicephorus took the same role his oppressive father played in his life. Manuel, whose only fault was that he resembled Dyogenes to a little extend, became victim to Nicephorus’ passion. Crows smelt the potential feast and cried with their harsh voices. One of them flied close to the coffin of Nicephorus and landed on the branch of the close tree. Constantine felt people were terrified. The mystery around the headless body of the dead hetaira, the respect for the dead despot and the fear from his horrible disease mixed with ancient superstitions. There was no way for Nicephorus to become a vampire. Instead, his body would be left to wait calmly for the doomsday in his empty family tomb. His heart had been put in salt and would be buried in Constantinople, though. In the very same grave where Dyogenes rested in peace.

The younger son of Nicephorus, who was walking behind his father’s coffin, roused interest in Constantine. Alexius had looked at the ground giving the appearance of person in deep reflection on the loss of dear relative. In a sudden but not unexpected demonstration of strength, he raised his head and stared at the hearse again. His body stayed overwhelmed with unnatural apathy, though, so that many people could be easily persuaded into the sincerity of his feelings. Constantine knew he was not the only one who observed Alexius. The crowd and the other noblemen also paid the proper attention to the man rumoured as Nicephorus’ remaining heir. Certain people in the chain of people behind Constantine were definitely concerned about Alexius. Romanus Philantropenus was forced to walk far from his young lover by the tradition and probably his dissatisfaction quickly accumulated new hostility in his soul. Constantine could feel his despiteful eyes but he did not even try to respond him in any way. Romanus’ affair with Nicephorus had nothing to do with real love. Animal instincts, titles and the career of his cousin were the motives behind their relationship. Further away was Demetrius Raoul. His omnipresent aristocratic arrogance covered with a fake grief for his late enemy was not a serious challenge to Constantine’s imagination. In this aspect Kir Raoul showed little ingenuity. He also strictly followed the patterns of his ancestors: both Norman and Roman. Constantine glanced his surrounding and that of Kir Andronicus Assen. The daggers of his people were hidden well ready to be drawn to protect their masters.

They were nearing the church. He could see the domes of the holy building. Wind blew and made the heat more bearable. Its whisper brought more memories. He cast another look at the coffin of Nicephorus. He remembered their hunting in Gallipoli, their numerous talks, their funny moments, and their sad ones. Many things had happened and he would say he felt that sympathy for Nicephorus no more. And yet he would miss his obsessive presence, his romantic fits, his sarcasm, his fears and his determination. A man could not forget twenty years of his life. Twenty years that changed his fate and made him an actor in the big play. He knew another act of this play would take place near the dead body of the despot. Like vultures the noblemen will circle around his body determined to tear part of his power. Faked grief, intrigues and probably more radical measures would be their tools to fulfill their ambition. Constantine scrutinised the roofs of the buildings. He had dispatched guards to protect them. Another crow cried and landed on the near branch.

The attention of Constantine focused again on land. A man managed to break the cordon of guards protecting the funeral from being mixed with the crowds. His gleaming eyes contrasted with his moderate clothes. The steward gave a sign to his guards to keep their undercover and put his hand beneath his tunics where a dagger had been concealed. In the next moment the man collapsed in the dust. He started yelling that the end is near now that Nicephorus is dead. His son had been killed during a skirmish with the Latin knights from Achaia and his grandson was barely thirteen. He looked up and stared at the eyes of the steward asking him for protection and intercession so that one day his grandson can receive his father’s pronoia. There had been attempts from the local magnate, namely Kir Armenopoulos, to take over the land by force. The procession had stopped and people were staring at the minor pronoiar and the steward. Bell tolls, whispers, the sporadic sobs of the weepers and the crow cries replaced the noise of the walking people and solemn songs of the priests and weepers. Andronicus Assen was also surprised by the sudden change of the atmosphere and the early test of his rule. It was time for the new government to choose between the dynatoi and the support for the minor pronoia owners. A clash with the upper nobility of Morea could lead to swift downfall; a yielding to all of their demands could mean disintegration of the governor’s authority. After a thorough scrutiny, Constantine approached the old man and gave him a sign to rise. A sympathising expression was on his face but his left hand buried into the tunics and touched the hilt of his dagger. He instructed his people to accompany the man to the Palace. This pronoiar was going to be a guest of the governor of Morea until the judgment from the governor was pronounced. Andronicus Assen nodded at his steward with relief and gave a sign to the procession to continue. People muttered approvingly and the procession continued their way. However, two female figures attracted his attention. Both the women were clad in black silk clothes with veil on their heads. One of the women was short and plumb. The other was tall and elegant. They were waiting to join the group of noblewomen who were moving slowly behind the male aristocrats. Constantine discretely met the eyes of Kira Kalamanos and avoided the look of Helena Theodorina. They were a strange couple, he thought as he passed them. A widow and a hetaira – they were two women with significant power over their fate. Both of them were not able to conceive a child anymore. But the similes were not entirely justified: the first woman was of a noble birth; the second was an upstart and worse, a thief. Even now on the funeral of Nicephorus Doukas she wore the dress of his late wife Anna. It was true Anna never wore it on public place and that she put it only once before leaving it in the wardrobe. This did not change the situation significantly. Constantine glanced at the people around him and continued to think. Ripsimia was a clever woman and she knew that she should be very careful with Helena. It was impossible for them to become friends so his mistress should have some plan in her head. Emotions should not be confused with the necessity. Helena’s influence on Manuel had to be eliminated.

The hooded undertakers took down the heavy coffin from the hearse surrounded by banners with Imperial symbols and images of saints. The priests started their sorrowful and solemn songs; the smell of incense filled the air. They were the first to enter the church followed by the coffin and the most trusted people of the late despot including the steward. Constantine took off his capacious hat and touched the hilt of his dagger beneath his tunics prepared for unpleasant surprises. With his free right hand, he crossed himself. As his eyes got accustomed to the darkness of the church, he looked around, studying the space for suspicious elements and then he gave a sign that the temporary governor can walk in. At the same time, Constantine was delighted to see that the coffin had already been placed on the proper place in the center of the room and the real ceremony was ready to begin. People started entering into the church. More priests and noblemen were amongst the privileged to enter first. Many others would follow and amongst them the most notable women in Morea. Constantine glanced at the face of his enemy Kir Raoul and his surrounding and also that of Kir Armenopoulos and his son Leo. Constantine slightly bowed as Kir Andronicus Assen passed him.

Sound of breaking utensils made him look his left only to see a leather bundle falling near his feet. With a lightning fast reaction, Constantine jumped back pushing one of his guards at the same time. The infuriated snake missed its first attack and swelled its hood ready to repeat. Constantine did not think much when he threw his dagger at the governor’s side cutting the head of the poisonous serpent.

“Take him away,” he screamed and avoided another reptile that was creeping towards the entrance. One of his guards took the adjacent huge candlestick and smashed the head of the cobra. Constantine was satisfied to see that his agents had shielded the governor with their own bodies and tried to make their way through the panicked crowd on the entrance. An inhumane scream followed and Constantine saw his personal servant John fighting with one of the assassins. At the same time a small pot crashed on the floor spilling the poison it contained. Constantine ordered his guards to charge and drew his two daggers from his boots. He threw one of them at the throat of the first assassin and then blocked the attack of the second.

“Allah Akhbaaar!” the assassin screamed as the blade penetrated into his chest and he collapsed. At the same time the only remaining assassin threw another pot at the direction of Constantine. Constantine avoided it and somebody screamed behind him. The assassin tried to run but then Constantine threw his dagger and hit him into the thigh. “Catch him!” Constantine shouted as he took out his last knife from his belt. The assassin snarled and stabbed himself with his own dagger bringing his secret to the grave. Constantine turned back to see the picture of writhing bodies of people and snakes, crashed utensils and spilled poison. He looked at the governor to ascertain that he was well. After that he knelt next to his dying servant. Being stabbed several times by the assassins, there was no hope for him.

“Do not speak,” he whispered to his loyal servant. He did not want to cause him more pain.

“He wanted to kill you, master,” the voice of the servant was wavering hinting that the end of his agony was near. “Mustafa… he fled…” The body of the servant concussed and became stiff. His terrified eyes lost their glimpse and opened broadly as in the last moment of his life John had tried to see with his mortal eyes what lies beyond, in the outer world. Constantine crossed himself with his bloody hand and closed the eyes of his servant. One last look at the body of his servant revealed that his clothes had been stained with something black. Pieces of broken pot around the body of his servant and a little candle told the rest of the story. The assassin had made an attempt to use burning liquid in order to destroy him. A good throwing could also have killed the governor. The snakes were simply for distraction that had to give him time to light the fuse. It seemed that in the struggle his servant had broken the pot and the liquid had spilled over them. Constantine saw the stamps of boots leading to the entrance. It was obvious that the disguised assassin had escaped once again. Mustafa the Syrian was still somewhere there. Alive and dangerous.

His third meeting with the elusive assassin weakened the belief of Constantine into the security system he had built around Manuel. His doubts had been enforced by the presence of John in the church several hours before their appointment. Constantine ordered to have church cleaned and went out of the building. He did not even stopped at the amused sight of the governor, took the nearest horse, and followed by two trusted guards he galloped upwards the streets of Mistra straight to the Kalamanos’ house.

[Prince Cobra]

Under the amused sight of the guards, he entered the house. He immediately ordered to have clean clothes brought to him and advanced to the room of Manuel. Manuel was relatively well sitting on his bed and staring at the most distant empty corner. The entering of his mentor attracted his attention.

“What are you doing here?” Manuel said with ill hidden surprise. “I thought you were on the funeral”

“Not any more. And I am well,” the steward added with a tone that had to demonstrate his good health

Manuel opened his eyes widely. He even slightly rose, “Is this blood on you? My God, you are hurt. ”

“I am not. And I think you should sit down, “Constantine calmly said and nodded at the bed.

“I am better, Constantine. But you are not. What has happened with you? ”

“Another assassination attempt. This is the assassin’s blood, not my own,” he said as if nothing important happened and added with a little self-irony, “I hope I will be excused for my inappropriate appearance.” Manuel was silent. He continued to look at him with indefinite expression showing a mixture between surprise and admiration. “Unfortunately, the most dangerous of the assassins is still alive. Have you heard of Mustafa bin Hassan? ”

“Never.”

“Please sit, you need to rest, Manuel, “Constantine said it more like an order than a request. He had caught the attention of his pupil and he knew the boy would submit. As he saw Manuel had sat back on the bed, Constantine continued, “He was amongst the assassins who ambushed Nicephorus in that fatal day when your father was diseased with leprosy. All the others were killed but he slipped out. He is also a direct threat for you because you are a son of Nicephorus.”

“But the Nicephorus disease… occurred years ago. Why did he return right now?”

“He was a member of the remnants of the Hashishin sect from Syria and Lebanon. Therefore, as enemy of the Egyptian sultan he spent years in the prisons of Egypt. I admit that I and Nicephorus played a decisive part in his neutralization. ”

“And he is not alone?”

“I think I killed his henchmen today. I doubt he is very popular amongst his own sect. But he is still dangerous, Manuel. He had spent years in Egypt which explains the tricks with animals he knows; he is also a good swordsman and a master of poisoning. I ask you to stay on high alert but so far, I think you are not his priority. And I think the guards are reliable. ”

“So you think that you are his top priority despite not being a Doukas?”

Constantine smiled ironically, “If this can be a little comfort for you, I think you are right. Remember I have always been loyal to your father’s cause and your family. I hope next time I meet him I will release us from this threat once and for all. ”

“What about my brother?”

Somebody knocked on the door and brought metal basin with water. Constantine thanked the servant who put the basin on the nearest chair. The steward put his hands in the water and started rubbing them from the blood on them. Before that he had looked at Manuel with a demonstrative interest. “It is hard to say but probably for the time being he is safe,” he finally answered.

“Why did you look at me in this way? Is it surprising that I still care for my brother?” The boy rose from the bed again. Manuel’s uncertainty had gone on the surface. It seemed John had done at least part of the job he was expected to do.

“Not of course, Manuel” Constantine answered in a reserved manner as he continued washing his hands.

“I know you, Constantine. Do not try to hide anything from me! Is it about Helena?”

The steward met the angry eyes of his pupil. John was dead but his task had to be completed. Constantine took the towel from the basin and dried his hands. “Do you really want the truth, Manuel Doukas?”

Manuel grabbed the board of the bed. His voice echoed into the room, “Speak!”

“There is some kind of sympathy between Helena and Alexius”

“Sympathy?! Helena was meant to be mine!” Manuel hissed.

“She is a hetaira, Manuel. She belongs none,” Constantine replied and dropped the towel into the basin. The dirty towel sank into the red water like a dead born baby.

“Do you have evidence? Are you sure there is an affair between her and my brother?”

“If you count on the numerous gifts from your brother, their numerous meetings and the occasional kiss in one of them, I do.”

“What?” Manuel shouted, “He kissed her!”

“Forgive me but I can no longer allow you to be made a fool by this woman.”

“I can not believe it,” Manuel pressed his hand on the bar with his forehead. His chest was intensively swelling and contracting. After a long moment of weakness Manuel looked up and said with husky voice. “For how long did you hide this secret from me?”

“Two days, Manuel, if you mean the kiss. I had to be absolutely sure. I have been watching Alexius and Helena for a long time.”

“Of course, you did,” for the first time Manuel spoke to him in this way. “It was your stupid plans that made Alexius hero. You said it was good for her safety and a test of her faithfulness. Women are like female dogs, you have to hold them tight or they will break loose…”His body was shaking from the rage that was burning inside him. He slightly turned his head left but he still did not look at his mentor” I thought you are experienced enough with women to know it. Or maybe this was part of your plan to separate her from me.”

“I do not allow you to offend the women, Manuel,” Constantine said with calm voice. “Not all of them are whores. And about holding your women tight, Manuel, at least half of my mistresses were women who were suppressed and controlled by their husbands. I can also tell you that it was good that there was such a test now because otherwise you will be surprised in the very wrong moment.”

“Is there a more wrong moment than this one? “ Manuel shouted and stared at Constantine with wet eyes expressing both anger and despair.

The frank answer could be that the damage had already been done. Constantine preferred a more subtle way to handle the issue, though. “Yes, I think the earlier you notice the snake, the higher are the chances for your survival.”

“You are ruining everything around me!” Manuel glared at him and tossed the plate from the table with a speed unexpected for his condition. The instincts of the steward served him well and with a swift movement of his hand the plate was deflected from its original aim. The item crashed at the wall and loudly fell on the floor. The pupil looked at the piece of metal at his feet with disbelief and then looked up to meet the eyes of his mentor. The fire in his eyes was put out. Manuel put his hand on the wall and dragged down on his back. Constantine approached his pupil. Manuel had put his right hand on his forehead and moaned.

“Manuel?” Constantine bent over the boy and carefully tucked his cloak in order to keep the Manuel’s garment clean from the blood on his tunics. It seemed he and the physicians had overestimated the strength of Manuel. He pressed the boy too hard and probably too early acting like a fool.

“I am well, Constantine,” Manuel raised his hand and supporting his body with the other he bent on the cushion.

“How do you feel?”

“I am well,” Manuel said with clear irritation in his voice.

“Answer the question!” Constantine slowly said with emphasis on every single word.

Manuel obeyed with reluctance, “I felt dizzy but I was not as ill as I was before.”

“Headache?”

“No,” Manuel answered. In his eyes Constantine read much confusion. Manuel was not lying but did not tell him the whole truth, either.

“Your hand, Manuel” He placed his thumb on the Manuel’s wrist. The boy was highly excited, which was completely understandable. Once again, he had to be more careful when handling Manuel. Manuel had always been vulnerable emotionally. His physical weakness was not typical for him, though.

“The earlier you smash the head of the snake, the higher are the chances for your survival,” Manuel suddenly said. At first Constantine thought he did not hear him well and asked him what he meant. Manuel burst into laughter

“You did not tell me you and Clyo were lovers!”

“Pardon?”

“She used to say ‘The earlier you smash the head of the snake, the higher are the chances for your survival’ She also told me that it was one of her clients that told it to her”

“Manuel, proverbs like this you can hear from anywhere”

“Come on! It was before she became my mistress, tell me the truth,” Manuel smiled playfully. Behind this sudden change of Manuel’s behaviour lied much confusion. The boy had either tried to distract his attention with something he had just remembered or which was less likely, he was simply getting paranoid for his other relationships. Constantine swiftly adapted to Manuel’s behaviour and his answer was ready almost immediately. Constantine wricked the right end of his lips,

“Her dreams are one thing; reality is another” If the boy wanted to distract himself from his pain then he should be encouraged to do that. Humour often helped but was not enough; the assumption had to be rejected without hesitation, “Now more seriously. This is not true. She is not my type, Manuel. Many years ago - yes but not anymore. Notice the difference - she said ‘smash’, I say ‘notice’. I am against the violence when it can be avoided. Unlike you and Clyo” The last ironical but inoffensive remark was also about the occasional role of the whip in the relationship between Clyo and Manuel.

This remained unnoticed by Manuel whose thoughts were concentrated on a more different issue, “Ah, yes, ‘notice’ and ‘smash’. This reminds me that I will have to deal with the whore. Helena will pay today. ”

“I do not think it is a good idea to meet her right now,” Constantine said as he still hesitated. Manuel was obviously getting stronger but he feared he might get another fit. On the other hand, his efforts had finally given fruit and now he simply had to stay aside and to enjoy his victory.

“This woman tried to poison my mind and abused my trust. She also made a fool of me and this in front of the whole city. Even the servants were watching me with pity when I was talking about Helena.” Manuel looked at Constantine again. “You could have told me earlier.”

“I had to be sure -”

“I know. I also think you should not interfere in our relationship. I was made a cuckold and I myself have to resolve the issue” Constantine was ready to add something but Manuel did not notice that and interrupted him, “I already sent John to Helena with a letter. I can be not in perfect condition of body and soul but I am not a weakling to hide any more.”

“She did not receive your message, Manuel” The struggle in Constantine’s heart was over.

“How come? Don’t tell me you stopped it!” Manuel said with tone that boded another burst with anger.

“John is dead. He was killed by the assassins.”

“He can’t be!” Manuel said shocked by the news. It seemed John was successful in winning his trust.

“He died in my hands. I could not do anything for him. ”

“He died because of me. If I had not sent him, he would live now,” Manuel added silently. He grabbed the cushion and threw it on the floor. “Helena shall pay!”

“You have no fault for his death. To a large extend he chose his death when he tried to fight the assassins. He tried to save people in the church“. He found the eyes of Manuel who had slightly raised his head “And yes, Helena shall pay and not for John’s death but for her hypocrisy”

“I need to bath, Constantine. And new garment.”

The steward bowed and took the cushion from the floor. He beat it out of the dust. “As you wish, Manuel. But you will not meet the hetaira today.”

“I am Doukas and this is an order,” the boy hissed. Constantine calmly replied and gave him the cushion.

“You are still weak and I am your mentor,” After a long moment in which their eyes met, Manuel finally gave up. He took the cushion and looked aside.

“Tomorrow, Manuel”

[Prince Cobra]

The clergymen were crossing themselves; the women were panicked; the men were shocked by the bold attempt on the life of the governor. Kir Assen himself was standing in a small group of people near Theophil Branas consisting of his guards, few high ranked noblemen, the bishop of Mistra, and Kir Armenopoulos. Theophil Branas looked at the direction where Constantine Matsakes had just disappeared and tried to make his way through the guards. He stopped and moved aside so that a litter with agonising man could pass. The man was moaning with his hands covering the place where his eyes had to be. The hideous wounds on his face revealed the damage done by the strong poison. The judge progressed further through the crowd and reached the guards who were standing before the main entrance of the church. The soldiers recognized him and he was let in without further explanations. The church savoured of incense, blood and acid. Few people, probably officers of the army, were walking and observing the mess whilst others were moving the dead bodies of both assassins and victims. Theophil looked at the nearest assassin whose body had just been placed on a litter. The assassin disguise as a priest allowed him to avoid the strict control at his entering into the building. The way he hid the snakes beneath his tunics was a mystery but probably he had mastered ancient techniques to command these demonic creatures. Theophil watched the litter traveling to the entrance where the terrified crowd split to make way to the lifeless body. Suddenly, a young woman all clad in black approached it and stared at the face of the dead. Helena Theodorina put her hand on her lips and disappeared back into the crowd. Theophil wondered if the woman had met this man before or this gesture had another meaning that was hidden from him so far. He studied the mess of poison, blood and oil around himself. He knelt and scrutinised the pieces of broken clay pot and quickly understood what had happened. After a few minutes spent in investigation he stood up and silently retreated outside of the church. The first thing his eyes saw when he stepped on the stone plates of the garden path was the uneasy governor who calmly invited him to share with him his observations. Theophil Branas saved much information to him and his surrounding satisfying their basic interest. He used the occasion to address Kir Armenopoulos with a silent look, a sign the aristocrat quickly comprehended. Once the governor started a conversation with Kir Chomatian concerning the funeral ceremony in the new chaotic situation, the judge and his potential interlocutor separated from the group. Leo, the son of Armenopoulos, and the real aim of Theophil followed his father. After a brief explanation, Kir Armenopoulos walked away with obvious dissatisfaction leaving his son into the hands of the investigator. Theophil led Leo to a remote place where notable church-donors and clergymen had been buried. In their respected but silent company the judge addressed his first question to the friend of Manuel,

“Kir Armenopoulos, I will speak frankly. As you well know Manuel Doukas is the main suspect for the murder of his father, the late despot” Leo slightly nodded in agreement and looked at the gravestone of the previous bishop of Mistra. “You are his friend and I think you are one of the few who know Manuel Doukas well. Unlike many others, I hope you will be willing to talk”

“I am not surprised that Matsakes is ready to sacrifice Manuel in order to keep his secrets.” Leo screwed up his eyes. “And considering the fact that Manuel thought of him as something like a father… A bastard and a dog - that is what he is. ”

“What secrets?”

“I have no idea,” Leo simply said. “I do not like the influence he had on Manuel. He used the mask of mentor and friend but Manuel was simply a tool for his ambitions.” Theophil remained silent giving him a clear sign he was carefully listening to him. Leo Armenopoulos looked back at the nearest huddle of people and said silently, “His support only confused Manuel making him unable to create a firm relationship with anybody. I was one of his few friends. ”

“Let me guess: women and talks with Nicephorus?”

Leo grinned and said, “It seems you know Matsakes well.”

“It can be said in this way,” Theophil looked at the ground and then pierced the young nobleman with his eye. “Apart from the talks with Nicephorus, you were doing a similar job, Kir Armenopoulos”

Leo stepped back and laughed nervously, “You mean I have attempted to puppeteer Manuel? This is non-sense!”

“Manuel was lazy and living in his own world, which meant he was constantly dependant on others to be informed,” Theophil calmly explained. “Since your father is one of the most powerful dynatoi in the North, you were always the best informed from Manuel’s close friends. You also had the necessary contacts to impress a small band of boys. This made you a natural leader.”

The stupid smile on Leo’s face was slowly replaced by more serious countenance “Even if this was so, it does not mean I ever attempted to manipulate Manuel.”

“I am skeptic, Kir Armenopoulos. I have heard various rumours -”

“That I corrupted the boy?” Leo interrupted him with his sarcasm. “Damn, Kir Branas, the boy was craving for a night with a hetaira...”

“And here we come to your affair with Clyo. I heard you were close to the late hetaira.”

Leo fidgeted the ring on his fourth finger. “Of course, I did. I arranged the first meeting between Clyo and Manuel.”

“Could you describe their relationship?”

“There was no love between them,” Leo smiled sarcastically as he was still looking at the jewel in his hand. He raised his head and added, “At least not from Manuel’s side, for sure. Only lewdness. I am not sure what exactly Clyo felt for him. Anyway, this relationship did not influence Manuel well”

Theophil looked askance at him, “You did not like Clyo? I thought you were in good terms with her?”

“Just like Matsakes she used him. He was her way to Constantinople”

“And you grew jealous of their relationship -”

“No!” Leo objected but his eyes opened widely and his voice was trembling slightly.

“Why did you quarrel with her a month ago, Kir Armenopoulos?”

“I-” the young aristocrat tried to say but hesitated. Instinctively, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked at the grave stone next to him and raised his head again. “Yes, I loved her,” he said without meeting the eye of the judge “At first, I thought of her as my toy and nothing else. I even arranged her first night with Manuel” He slowly shook his head and made a wry face as if he had just bitten something bitter. “I never expected she would start ignoring me. And that she would be so greedy and corrupted. But I did not kill her. For me it was sufficient that she lost her influence on Manuel”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Do you not know, Kir Branas?” Leo said, ”In their last meeting few weeks ago nothing between them happened. I do mean nothing. He simply sent her away. ”

“Some truths are well hidden, Kir Armenopoulos,” the judge remarked. “And should we think that -”

“The answer is Helena, yes. She is a good party, I think. It is bad -” Leo weighed his words and continued slowly, “that now when they could be together, this terrible accident happened”

“I could say the same for you and Clyo”

Leo resisted the look of the judge with effort, “There was no future for us, anyway. We could never marry. ”

“Do you suspect anybody for her death?”

“I have no idea. She could have been involved in dangerous affair. This woman was full with secrets and as I told you she became too greedy. Did you find her head? ” Leo’s eyes glanced at the cross carved on one of the gravestones.

“Not yet,” Theophil Branas looked at the crowd and eyed his interlocutor again. “Kir Armenopoulos, what were the relations between your friend Kir Stavrakis Ksiphia and the hetaira?”

“Non-existent. Stavrakis was always shadowed by me and Manuel.” Leo’s voice sounded amused by the question but he did not dare to smile.

“And where is he?”

“I have no idea, Kir Branas. I have not contacted him for the last few days”

Theophil noticed the pompous figure of Leo’s father approaching them. He decided to lay another trap to the young nobleman. “Kir Ksiphia was surely confused by the recent events, Kir Armenopoulos,” he dropped hints.

Leo added hesitantly, “Maybe, Kir Branas”

“Kir Branas,” the magnate said as he approached his son from the right. Leo’s face stiffened as a result of his father’s intervention and he tried to avoid his look. “I am sorry to interrupt your important conversation with my son but I can no longer delay the meeting between my son and several influential aristocrats. I hope you can talk with my son later this day when the circumstances will be more benevolent to us.” Kir Armenopoulos met the eye of the judge and slightly nodded respectfully, “I am sorry for the inconvenience, Kir Branas”

Theophil also smiled politely to him and as he was switching his attention from the father to the son, he added, “In fact, we exhausted the topic of our conversation. You should not feel any inconvenience, Kir Armenopoulos”

----

I am still working on this. It is slow but definately not abandoned. Moreover, yesterday, a sudden flash of inspiration may result in very interesting development of the plot.

P.S. I still hope there are still some surviving people who were not poisoned in the process of reading.

[edyzmedieval]

Stephen, for the moment, I shall only comment on your last chapter.

The first thing that comes in my mind, at least for me, is the pace of the chapter. It seemed slow and it's not flowing cursively in order to make the reader keep the "book" in his hand, turning page after page until he finds himself at 5 am surprised. Try adding action verbs and link the sentences together by adding commas or make them longer, and "air" the descriptive paragraphs by using new lines or indenting the paragraph at the beginning.

What I really love is the plot. The Byzantine intrigues are perfectly displayed and it really makes it enjoyable reading. The dialogue is well fleshed out, detailed, but could use a touch of action as it is somewhat forced in its flow.


Please continue. Making some adjustments can really make it really impressive.

That's my 2 cents.

[Prince Cobra]

As Helena stepped on the stone paved street, she felt better. The first day of the funeral of her enemy was over. She finally separated from the company of Alexius and could retire into her chamber to rest. The critical look of the innkeeper Theodore made her think her mishap is not over.

“Helena, you are so beautiful,” the innkeeper said as he was watching her with satisfaction. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Who could suggest that a poor orphan girl will conquer the hearts of one of the most influential families in the Empire?” Helena jerked her head and showed him with a look she was too tired and needed rest. “I know, I know, my dear. I am not going to stop you. Maybe we can discuss few important issues on a water melon. It is so hot right now.”

“As you wish, Kir Theodore. I would only like to wash my face and to dress”

“Of course, Helena,” the innkeeper grinned and waddled back to the building. A young girl, who stood behind him during the short conversation, approached her. Maria, her maid, had surely prepared everything needed.

“Kira Helena,” the girl welcomed her with a shy smile. It was not very appropriate behavior for a future hetaira but Helena was so happy to see her little girl that she decided to leave the lessons for a later moment. After the death of her other maid, Maria was left alone and she was slightly scared of this fact. With all of the assassins wandering across the streets of Mistra, Helena was also fearful for the future of Maria. The hetaira was exhausted by the heat and the events on the funeral but she was still giving example of the dignity that each hetaira should have. As she entered the room, which was suitable for the purpose, Helena slowly approached the basin and took off the scarf from her head. She washed her face and dried it.

“Thank you, Maria,” Helena told the little girl. The girl was not an ordinary child because she did not have childhood. An orphan, an apprentice of a hetaira and deprived of any contacts with other children: this was the life of Maria. On the other hand, although she was more mature than most of her coevals, she was still girl at nine years old. “Was Anastasia good to you?”

Anastasia was an old dancer, who spent her few remaining years on the mercy of the innkeeper. Theodore never forgot past services and according to the rumours this dancer did a lot in the past for the ex-brigand.

“Yes, she told me very interesting stories. Did you know she knew the despot? ”

“No, I did not,” Helena lied. She did not want to spoil the pleasure of the young girl. Maria smiled and said, “It was many years ago. She was called to entertain the guests of Kir Alexius the father of Nicephorus, in Constantinople. These were important people - ”

Somebody knocked on the door and Helena heard a familiar voice, which made her skin crawl. She hurried to lock the door but the man already entered the room. Christopher excused with atypical politeness without a single trace of his previous arrogance. He approached the little girl and knelt down. Helena felt Maria hid behind herself.

“I will not harm her,” Christopher raised his head and stared at Helena, “Trust me” Christopher smiled at Maria, “I have a present for you” He took out a necklace made of mussel shells and showed it to Maria. After a short moment of hesitation the girl did not take them. Christopher looked at Helena but the hetaira was not willing to assist him. The assassin sighed and eyed Maria with disappointment. He rose putting the necklace on the single table in the room.

“I will not harm you,” Christopher said as he approached Maria. He bent and looked at the girl, who grasped the Helena’s dress. The hetaira had visions on strangling this man with her hands. “Now, I have an important talk with Kira Helena. Could you leave us for a while?”

Helena met the Maria’s eye who this time was more worried to leave her beloved mistress with this dangerous man. Helena knelt and said, “Maria, the weather is nice. You are free to play in the garden.” Helena gave a smile and calmed the girl, “Keep the good manners, though”

The girl nodded timidly but her young face was shadowed by disturbance. Christopher sent off the girl with his eyes and as the door closed, he looked at the hetaira again.

“Your petty bribes could not mislead even a girl at the age of nine, Christopher,” Helena said bitingly as she rose. “Why did you come?”

“You know the answer, Helena,” Christopher stepped forward staring straight at her eyes. “You persistently choose people who are higher in rank and people who will eventually bring about your downfall. “

“Years ago you managed to convince me in the virtues of your wardship. It is no more welcomed!”

Christopher clenched his teeth and turned his back on her. He put his hands on the table and stared at the polished surface of the table. “I admit I was a fool,” he sighed and turned his head staring at the empty space right of Helena. “But imagine you were me –“

“This is impossible, Christopher”

The assassin’s body writhed under these words that pierced his heart like a dagger. “I was surrounded by wanton women. I thought you were just another airy girl, who pretends to be inaccessible -“

“You were wrong”

“Of course, I was,” he admitted unable to conceal the pain in his voice. His grey eyes opened widely as if he asked Helena to look into his ravaged soul. ”But you are also mistaken about me. I can still give you the security you need. It is never too late for us to run away from this cursed place.” Intuitively, he had put his hands on his chest emphasizing his message to her.

Helena never expected this man was able to show such a naivety. She had ripped out his vital ability to stand firmly on the ground and she would have relished her revenge had she not realized this could turn against her. Her justified anger was stiffened in her heart and she gazed at the man with a surprise but in fact she was weighing his value. He could be even sacrificed if this was the price for the Manuel’s freedom.

“You are insane!” Her more practical intentions were carefully concealed with anger mixed with a surprise that could give hopes to Christopher. Depending on her final decision these hopes could be manipulatively watered or smashed mercilessly.

“Yes, I am,” Christopher said as his eyes were glimpsing. He approached the hetaira and continued with voice trembling from excitement. ”Just trust me. We are meant to love each other. “

“You are mad!” Helena said deliberately exposing all the confusion she felt. “You do not really believe it!”

“I do!”

“Leave!” Helena hissed.

The madness slowly disappeared from Christopher’s eyes but he still watched at her.
“Please consider my words,” he said and went out. Just before Christopher headed for the door, Helena had read something in his eyes he could not conceal. He was triumphing.

Helena crossed the room and locked the door. For a long moment her body was bent on it with her head and hands resting on the rough wood. As her eyes opened she glanced at the dress on one of the chairs and this reminded her that she was late.
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I am back again. And again. I'm also ready with the meeting between Theodore the Inkeeper and Helena. Personally, I find the conversation between Theodore and Helena to be interesting and explaining much things (maybe too much things) about the past of Theodore and Constantine Matsakes. I am still working on it because I must be careful with the quantity of the information. This is information can be considered by some as not very precious one but I believe some of its aspects can influence the story. I hope it will be ready during the next week.

For me the plot is getting interesting. First, the assassination attempt on Constantine and the governor, then the personal life of Manuel and now the one of the hetaira. I am eager to reach to the next day in my story when Nicephorus is to be finally buried and thus to free some space for the mishaps of the other characters. Rest in peace Nicephorus Doukas.

[Prince Cobra]

Helena dressed as swiftly as a single woman could and gathered her hair beneath the linen cloth. She unlocked the door and went down the stairs with a slow pace and proud countenance on her face. Deep inside her she was uneasy about the meeting with her adopter. He would never harm her but his wishes were sometimes more severe than a physical injury. The voice invited her into the room. As she closed it behind herself, she tried to bow respectfully to her adoptive father.

“No, Helena,” Theodore said with unexpectedly soft voice. “I am no longer your master,” Theodore said as he smiled sarcastically to himself. “No man could”

Helena was amused. Where did his arrogance go? Sometimes she thought Christopher resembled him despite the obvious difference between them. Christopher was as strong as a wolf whilst with his huge arms and fat belly Theodore looked like a massive rock. But both of them suddenly collapsed under her beauty.

She slowly followed the innkeeper to the place where the dishes had been served. The room of Theodore consisted of more than one room. There were at least three chambers. Now they were in the very heart of the small domain of Theodore: a moderately large solar with no decoration and scanty furniture. It was as plain as the character of her master.

“Take a seat, Helena”

They sat simultaneously on their chairs on the small table. The water melon had already been served. Astonishingly, there were even forks on the table. Like most of the plainer people or the Westerners, Theodore used a knife to cut his meal. This time he did not intend to eat. There was a single piece of melon in his dish, which made it clear he did not want to eat in front of Helena. Was it because he was not hungry? He had eaten before their meeting, for sure. But he would never decline another dish. No, he wanted to talk to her or had justified fears she could be disgusted of his bad manners on the table.

“Helena, you are always in the center of the events,” the innkeeper said as he adjusted himself on the chair, which squeaked. He did not touch any of the utensils on the table. In this unnatural posture Theodore watched at Helena as he never saw her before. “Anastasia was right: women are unpredictable creatures” After pause (diverting eyes) the innkeeper added, “I should have learned that when I met Anna Angelina for the first time”

“The mother of Manuel?”

“Exactly. Our paths crossed about twenty years ago but contrary to what you think I am not going to tell you a love story” Another sarcastic smile twisted the greasy face of Theodore. The innkeeper looked down for a moment only to see that somehow he had put his hand on the table. Helena thought his hand was slightly trembling.

“Yes, Helena, you are going to hear things few people know and suspect. But being like my daughter, you should know them.” The chair squeaked again. Theodore continued.

“You know I was a brigand. This is right, Helena, but I was not attacked by Frankish knights in Morea. It is indeed convenient to say I was enemy of the Latins but in fact I came in Morea some years before Nicephorus. At that time I have already abandoned this craft ” A warm wave smashed into the heart of Helena and her observant look went over the face of the innkeeper.

“In fact I was born in Messambria, a wealthy city on the Black sea. Unfortunately, I was not one of the chosen few. I lost my parents early: my father died by Mongol blade, my mother died of illness. Ah, the irony,” he added bitterly and looked down, “Because the day I met my destiny, I was fighting shoulder to shoulder with the Mongols. The committed crimes erase the moral scruples.”

The innkeeper bent on the table and continued his long monologue.

“I took part in the ambush of the escort of Anna Angelina. We were a large rabble of brigands, Mongol raiders from the Golden Horde and even mercenaries. We had to capture the niece of the Emperor that was about to marry Nicephorus Doukas. At first the surprise allowed us to push the enemy. We managed to kill the commander of the escort Lucas Matsakes, the man who claimed to be the father of Constantine. We also reached the carriage of the princess. I was not there but I was told this woman took an arbalest from her dead guard and fired an arrow at the enemy. But we were almost successful when Constantine made a desperate move. Learning that his mentor had died and that the personal guard of the princess could be overwhelmed he gathered the most courageous soldiers and charged into the heart of our small army …” For a moment he shut his eyes lost in memories he hid in his heart for a long time, “Within a few moments the heart of our army became a mess of bodies fighting for survival. Then somebody roared and raised his heads. In the one hand he held the scimitar of the ringleader and in the other the shaved head of our leader. This man was Constantine“

He met the eye of Helena and probably he judged from her tense face she was watching carefully.

“This made our army waver and it was quickly routed by the first reinforcements. I was engaged in the center of the fight and could not retreat. I was captured on the battlefield. Then I witnessed a picture I could never forget. A young man was kneeling next to an older one. He was crying like a child. His face was so bloody I could not recognize him. But the scimitar adjacent to him I could. It’s the only time I saw this man crying. ”

“Why do you tell this to me?” Helena asked shocked and puzzled.

“People are changing, Helena,” he sighed. “Destiny plays with the people. Do you think Matsakes has been born the man he is now? Who knows what would have happened if Lucas did not die that day? Do you think I would have paid attention to a crying a child if I was not captured in that forest and was pardoned… “At this moment Theodore raised his look. ” Do you think that Nicephorus was destined to net intrigues from his birth? No, he became such a man because he was humiliated by his father, because he did not have any other choice but to outsmart him and nurture the passion for revenge in his heart. But please have in mind that in the Doukas family few change to good. Nicephorus was a tyrant, Constantine accepted to be his right hand, Anna also died unable to bear the corruption around her husband or maybe Nicephorus killed her… I do not know. I want to show you two things: even you, the hetaira do not know many things about the people around you. The second is to stay away from the Doukas.”

“Stay away? But you told me –“

Theodore nervously scratched his double chin and shook his head, “No, Helena. I thought I knew you. By what I told you, I meant to stay away from Alexius. I thought that if I order it to you, you will disobey me. I quickly realized my mistake but then I did not want to cut your way to Constantinople. For Alexius will return sooner or later to the capital and will take you with him. And I am sure that if you managed to use your skills, you would become one of the most influential hetairoi in the Empire. But finally I decided to leave the choice to you. You are old enough to make the decisions alone. For what made me to share it with you was again Constantine. ” He continued staring at the empty space in front of him, “Yes, Helena, Constantine provoked me to try to stop you from contacting Alexius. Now I suspect he knew that Alexius had some feelings for the mistress of his brother. He also knew I love you as my child,” he looked at her with wet eyes and continued, “But I do not know his plans“ He bent on the chair but he was still nervous. “Do you love Alexius?”

The question cut her in two. “I do not know, Theodore”

The innkeeper moaned silently. He raised his head and looked at her, “You should decide what exactly you feel for Alexius: a way to hurt Manuel, passion, real love or just a mean for other purposes. Remember whatever you choose you would never marry either Manuel or Alexius. They will create families -”

“I know that,” irritated Helena said, “I have made my decision by choosing the profession of hetaira. I will die childless, anyway”

She knew the last words will cause pain to the innkeeper. Theodore shut his eyes and bent on the chair helplessly. “I could not protect you from the wrath of Nicephorus. Forgive me”

For the next several moments nobody spoke. She silently watched the broken innkeeper. She was grateful for everything he did for her, she knew he did not deserve it but she could never forgive him.

“There will be always people who will love you, Helena.” Theodore finally said as he gazed at her with his tired eyes. “Be merciful if not to me then towards the others. It will be repaid”
“Who do you mean?”

“People make mistakes but people are changing. Do not be too harsh towards Christopher, though he deserves it”

“Christopher?” Instead of anger his name awakened her conscience. She would never forgive him but she would not go for his destruction, though she could. She understood she hesitated too much. “Why do you ask me for such a thing?” She did not attempt to hide her amusement but she put some touch of irritation in her voice.

“Because I love you both,” the innkeeper bent his head staring at the table. These words did just the opposite effect the innkeeper intended. Love? Where was it when this man raped her? She never asked this question and overcome this sudden fit of anger.

Theodore did not dare to raise his look and continued speaking in this atypical for him posture. “I know what you are thinking… But sometimes people make mistakes… When I learned I did not throw him out. I simply hit him several times... I admit it was not fair... ”

Like all the men Theodore always tried to justify himself. If he thought she would be placed by the fact he smacked his illegal son, he was wrong. The head of the man in front of her sunk between his shoulders,

“I was not there when Christopher was a child; I appeared in his life when he has already grown up. I could even prevent him from becoming the criminal he is now -”

The innkeeper suddenly stopped and looked at Helena, “Helena, but I can still prevent his complete destruction. I do not ask you to marry him because you do not deserve such a savage husband. But I ask you to be careful with him. Handle him wisely because he is no longer the man I know. I am afraid he can do something stupid”

They were looking at each other for a long silent moment. “You did not tell me a single word, Helena… Am I such a tyrant?”

“No, you are not. Allow me to take my leave, Theodore”

“You are always free to leave, Kira Helena,” the innkeeper smiled bitterly before she rose and left him.

[Monk]

Your best update yet Stephen. Your dialogue sections have improved significantly since the last time i read your work and it is much easier to grasp hold of your characters from the outside looking in. I think you've turned the corner with your characterization, keep it up!

[Prince Cobra]

No, it's not another update. It's just a thanks to Monk. Btw, I simply had some difficulties in making a logical plot (fixing some things I've suddenly stumbled upon) for the next scene but the inspiration is back and a draft is ready. Now I simply have to check it for grammar mistakes, deleting some sentences and about 4 Word pages are to come to life as the next update. I can only tell that judge Theophil Branas continues his investigations...

[Prince Cobra]

In the church the atmosphere was getting muggy. The chants of the bishop of Mistra repeated once again the hopes of the priest for absolution of Nicephorus. The choir followed reminding the human transience. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! The choir ended and all the people present crossed themselves. Suddenly the choir fell silent preparing for the chants of St. John Damascenes. Constantine slightly raised his head, which he had bowed submissively to the memory of the deceased despot. He knew he was not the only one who had come to witness his respect to Nicephorus. Kir Assen, the probable placeholder of the governorship in Morea, has presented himself with the other followers of Nicephorus. The dynatoi from the North had also come and the most powerful of them –Kir Armenopoulos- was amongst them. There were also many jackals like the Nicephorus’ gentle lover Romanus and the enemy Demetrius Raoul. The offspring Alexius Doukas was standing close to his father’s coffin with a burning-out candle in his hands. The boy did not inherit only the image of his father and grandfather; he had some of their wit. He was ambitious like his father and as cunning as his grandfather was; the blood of Emperors was running in his veins. However, he was still young, barely nineteen year-old and… he had been conquered by the charm of a woman. Constantine himself had felt what a woman could do to a man. He also knew what she could not… Years of careful planning had finally given a fruit... Constantine crossed himself after the next ‘Alleluia’ of the choir and stared again at the floor. Planning had become his second nature. Death was lurking everywhere, even in the churches that were meant to separate the people from ordinary life. In a world where it was only the immortal soul that mattered. He had crossed the limit and there was nothing he could do for his salvation. Remorse could wait until the end. Before that he would fulfill an oath he gave. Then he could sink in the flame river of the hell and hope that he could be luckier than Nicephorus… Dark omens were noticed all over the land in the year Nicephorus died. Two headed snake had been found in the surrounding of Mistra, monstrous calves had been born only to die moments later in agony. Perhaps such things happened before; perhaps the death of Nicephorus and the bald attempt yesterday had made him more and more superstitious… It was time for a prayer, prayer not for Nicephorus, despite their long-time alliance and past friendship… There were people who did not deserve their fates like them, people like Lucas Matsakes, like the soldiers who died for their ideals and loyalty to the dynasty and the Doukas, even people like Theophil Branas and Anna Angelina who fell corrupted by the circumstances… Movement around him took him out from his deep reflection and the instincts started working even before his conscience. He realized the time for the ‘last kiss’ to the deceased had come. The Nicephorus’ offspring had stepped out and his body bent. Alexius’ lips approached the silver surface of the icon in the hands of Nicephorus and it seemed he kissed it. Constantine was sure the boy had not. As the offspring retreated, Constantine advanced to the coffin of Nicephorus. He could see the bronze mask of the open coffin very well then his eyes went down the silver cross lying on the blue tunics of the despot and then to his leprous hands clad in fine white gloves. Constantine bowed and almost touched the silver with his lips. Waft of medicines and balms touched his nostrils but there was something disgusting in them. The body was not rotting yet: all the measures had been taken. Was it the fear of poison that could have been put on the silver by the elusive assassin or the memories appearing in his mind? Constantine did another skilful faking of a kiss and stepped back. In fact, he knew nobody would ever kiss this silver. Nobody would overcome his fear of the horrible illness for the sake of the fearsome spymaster, who was already dead and could not harm anybody. True, the ghost was still somewhere here but soon the demons would take it to the underworld. Constantine lit another candle and threw the previous one in the sacred vessel for the purpose. He crossed himself again and started another prayer in his mind. Sun was already rising on the horizon, sunshine rays were going through the windows of the church. More people started entering the church in order to witness the end of the funeral of Nicephorus. But somebody was missing there. Constantine looked at his left and saw the judge Theophil Branas had gone.


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Theophil stole to the nearest corner and looked around. Constantine had not bothered to put a sentry in this sector of the Palace. To be more precise: the steward was not interested to do so. Yet, however improbable this could be, somebody else could have dispatched spies. After the judge had confirmed there was nobody around, he slowly advanced to his aim in a calm manner as he was doing something absolutely appropriate in this early hour. Theophil neatened his hood to see better in the darkness and managed to push the key into the lock. His agent had done a good work, for the key was the right one.

Theophil entered the small room currently inhabited by a low-ranked aristocrat who came for the funeral of Nicephorus. He lacked the wits of the previous owner of the room and his weakness for the drinking made the difference even more distinguishable. He never remembered to have seen Alexius drunk. Theophil locked the door behind. He looked around. There was nothing remarkable there. Just plain furniture. He wondered if it was different during the youth of Alexius when he inhabited the room. He looked with hope at the window. The sun was rising and the first rays finally were dispersing the darkness, a mortal enemy of his investigation. Furthermore, the servants had started getting up the guards could be more easily distracted. The bells signaling the final phase of Nicephorus funeral would soon start ringing creating a necessary noise. At first, Theophil started observing the floor searching for hints. Once this was over he would start trying the walls for hollows that could possibly reveal anything about the secret tunnel system of the Palace. It could have provided the master of the Palace with advantage during flight or fight but it could be used for spying. The judge smiled to himself wondering if his hypothesis could be right. He knelt close to one of the corners of the room and scrutinised the place. He removed his gloves and calmed the stone surface. It seemed somebody had attempted to remove this stone plate. He took out his knife and plunged it between the plate and the wall and the stone moved. Once the stone was removed, the judge stared at the place. He took out his dagger and knocked on the lime mortar that echoed promisingly. A few hits on the material and the hilt of his knife penetrated deep into the mortar revealing a hole. The bells also started ringing silencing the betraying sounds of the breaking mortar. And it was over. The judge scrutinised the empty place between the stones and smelled the stale air of the tunnel. He lit the candle and pushed it inside. He hardly put his hand with the candle but he managed to see the tunnel was large enough for a man to walk inside. It even seemed there were some stairs leading to an unknown direction. The judge rose and slid the plate back on its place. So it seemed that Alexius, who was then between thirteen and fifteen year-old boy, had revealed the secret tunnels of Nicephorus. Perhaps he was made familiar with most of them by his father but probably this one was an exception. It was highly unlikely for his father to trust entirely to his sons. It was also remarkable that the room that the judge inhabited right now lacked any mean for spying. Was it because the steward did not want to allow him even an indirect access to the secrets of the Palace? And there was a more intriguing question. It seemed this secret entrance could spy at least two rooms: that of Alexius and the one below, belonging to George, for they both had been situated to what was supposed to be a massive stone wall at the bottom of the corridor but on different floors. What was more interesting - the same could be said for the Manuel’s room, which was also next to a thick wall.

Theophil checked if he had forgotten something and withdrew as silent as a ghost. As he opened the door, he heard somebody was coming in his direction, probably attracted by the noises he produced while breaking the mortar. The steps were getting louder and Theophil understood this was probably the sentry guarding the floor. The man was not alone. However, none of them were the aristocrat whose keys had been stolen. The judge silently shut the door and put his ear on the key lock attempting to figure out what was happening outside. One of the men spoke but it was hard for the judge to catch the meaning of their words. The people were approaching. Suddenly, the steps stopped somewhere very close to him, Theophil suggested they were could be in front of the door. Shivers went down the spine of the judge. He was a high ranking nobleman and even if caught in the room of a minor aristocrat this would not be considered as a crime. Nevertheless, it would reveal his investigations and harm his reputation. He glanced at the hilt of his knife. Theophil was also not sure in the intentions of these people so a possible fight could not be excluded. Yet, it was possible for the man not to press very strongly the door so the judge concentrated his efforts on keeping the door shut. As one of the man spoke, he immediately recognised the voice of the John the Fast Sword, the man whom the rumours claimed to be unrecognized bastard of the late Kir Kalamanos. The very same man was witnessed the accident with Manuel the day when Nicephorus was found dead.

John the Fast Sword addressed his companion, “I am sure I heard noise from somewhere. It must be from here”

“You are getting paranoid, John,” replied the other man. “The bells were ringing; the servants were getting up… It is normal. It is not amusing some of the people here produced noise”

“Noble people are on the wake of the funeral”

The other man laughed, “Why do you think we are here? You said it, only the high-ranking snobs are on the wake. Many of the others are not”

“I am positive most of the people here are pages and they would not sleep while their protectors are in the church. I am positive the place is quite abandoned”

John was right, he had studied most of the rooms around: people now were mostly gone on the funeral, Theophil thought.

“You do not even have a slightest idea where this noise comes from,” the other guard insisted

“I do not”

“Let’s go back, John. If we hear something that disturbing we can go back again. But I really do not know what these people can seek there.”

“Me too but -”

“I know you want to prove yourself after Manuel’s accident especially now when George is having problems. Poor he, he had no place here– Let’s go -”

“Wait for a minute,” John sounded slightly disturbed, “Do you mean George, the guard of Nicephorus, is leaving?”

“He told me he would not. He had some personal issues to deal with. But if I were him, I would try my luck in Constantinople. Don’t tell me you would not do the same in his position?”

John replied something but he was already too far from the door to be understood by the judge. Theophil stood motionless until the steps of the two men died out. Only then had he left the room locking it behind himself. He cautiously ascended the second floor using the stone staircase and passed the large cup with burning flames that had to light the staircase during the night. Just before his room, a man was waiting for him. Theophil smiled to his trusted man removing the hood. He opened the door and invited his agent in. The man respectively waited for Theophil to sit but the judge asked him to take his seat immediately. The man looked tired and judging from his dusty boots he had been tracking his aim during the whole night. Theophil dragged his stool close to his man and with a look gave him a sign to start speaking. The agent was speaking silently but clearly enough to be heard. As he was ordered, he had followed John the Fast Sword during a night journey to the town quarters near the cemetery. There he met a young girl that resembled the prostitute Theophil had inquired few days ago. They seemed to have intimate relations between each other that could be easily judged by their talks. Yet, there was not anything that can call the image of a passionate relationship between a soldier and a ‘public woman’. Ephigenia was also slightly scared, for there was much panic and confusion in her voice. She was disturbed by the close scrutiny she underwent by Kir Matsakes and the soldiers he dispatched to guard one David, a wounded prisoner currently healed in her mother’s house. It seemed she was slightly uneasy of the attention of Theophil as well. The two people were also talking about a third person, probably a man, who seemed to be an inseparable part of their relationship. The agent had left with the general impression John the Fast Sword had come to comfort the poor woman. Theophil carefully listened to the words of his spy and attempted to make these pieces of the puzzle into a whole picture. The judge soon came back from his thoughts and thanked his man sending him to rest. He could not afford this luxury, though. In the church they had probably noticed his absence so he had to hurry in order to reach on time for the last rites of the Nicephorus’ funeral.

[Prince Cobra]

The last tunes of the funeral solemn songs died out. Only a huge stone plate that hid the tomb of Nicephorus reminded of the existence of this man… He avoided the court of humans with his intrigues, committed numerous crimes, and corrupted a thousand of souls. Now he was a threat to none and was to pay for his deeds on the Judgment day. He should no longer bother the sense of a judge but he left a legacy. An heir accused of murder, a second son surrounded with mystery, a cunning steward making his net of intrigues, and a huge number of vultures. Ironically, there were also many women… and of course, the hetaira Helena Theodorina. Both Nicephorus’ sons had some affection for her and her role in this mysterious chain of events was unclear. The woman was standing on the opposite side of the huge crescent that has been formed by the nobility several feet from the grave of Nicephorus. Kira Kalamanos was talking something next to her but Helena’s mind was somewhere too far away from this place. Helena turned her head towards the widow and she moved her lips. "I think we should go, Kira Kalamanos," were the exact words that the judge read. People around the judge also started moving and he glanced at the two women withdrawing to the entrance followed behind a third person, who deeply interested the judge. Theophil hurried to reach them making his way through the nobility of Mistra. He ignored the chaos of linen and silk tunics, and faces attempting to concentrate on the movement in the female sector. A relatively poor tunic appeared and disappeared from his sight and in his desperation he even pushed at several people on his way. The more he was approaching the entrance, the slower he was moving. The progress of the woman he pursued was also hampered by the crowding people but after the new wave of veiled heads, his task was becoming very difficult. He was also moving further, creating confusion and discontent. The woman in humble clothes looked back assuring herself nobody was following her and Theophil instinctively hid his face behind the tall person in front of him. As she looked at her front, the judge excused himself for the inconvenience and bypassed the man. In the next moment the woman vanished. It was hard to see her even in the church yard. Another couple was more visible. The respect for the widow of Kir Kalamanos and the beauty of her female companion made people move aside. The poor-dressed prostitute was also waiting for them and the judge saw her a moment only before she approached feet or two from the hetaira. Whatever she intended, something scared her and Ephigenia pulled back. Theophil hastened his pace and intercepted her right at the end of the church graveyard. He met a pair of terrified eyes that mirrored her guilty conscience.

“What can I do for Your Honour, Kir Branas?” she asked timidly.


-----------




Manuel was sitting on a chair in the garden of the Kalamanos house surrounded by exotic trees and flowers. Somewhere in the shades a few soldiers were standing but it was not very clear if they were watchful of his safety or they were simply preventing him from escaping. One person amongst them had an unquestionable loyalty to his family that strangely transferred him, the prodigious son. The name of this man was Constantine Matsakes, his mentor. He was now the only pillar in his life because his friends turned out to be disloyal and the woman he loved was nothing but a whore. He eyed the entrance of the small garden with anticipation and indeed the door opened and the slut entered. She was so beautiful in her fine black dress… Piece of ice pierced his heart and he scratched the arms of the chair. He looked at her young face and her worried countenance could have been touching had he not learnt about her deception. For a long moment this woman stood motionless hesitating what to do playing the game she knew to perfection. He felt the energy he was forced to contain for weeks was unleashed and he rose on his feet faster than he could realise. Surely, her divine beauty enchanted him and he thought this gentle creature could never lie. Could she? Could the informants of Constantine make a mistake? He doubted it. He feared he could harm her and made no movement for. She deserved a punishment but it should be a fair one. He should know… Helena opened her lips but Manuel feared she could say something untrue, even a lie.

“Tell me it is not true, Helena,” said he feeling his voice was trembling and his throat was dry.

Helena slowly approached him and attempted to hug him. With a sudden and rude movement he grasped her arms and held her body away from himself. Could these beautiful black eyes hide insidiousness? Could their amazement be just another trick?

“Is it true you betrayed me with my brother?” Manuel hissed like a snake.

Helena slightly bowed her head and stood silent.

“Answer the question, Helena!” Manuel shook her in his hands violently. Helena’s face had twisted of pain but her voice stood calm, “Please drop me. You are causing me pain!”

He clenched his teeth before he could say one of those words he learnt in the brothels of Peloponnesus. A drop of molten silver was running down the Helena’s cheek. It was the first time he had ever seen her in tears. Was she crying the same way when she lost her child? Their child? He was not there to disperse the clouds of despair around her: he had sunk in bottles of alcohol himself. She was so beautiful while crying. Maybe there could be some misunderstanding. Manuel slightly loosened his grip of steel on Helena’s arms. He embraced her and he felt her smaller and sensitive heart beating madly. She suffered so much. Confused by what was happening Manuel turned his head left. Constantine shook his head with determination on his face. Why was this feud between the dearest people Manuel had? Instead of answer, the steward looked at the entrance of the garden where another man was standing. Manuel slightly pushed Helena away trying to protect her from what was about to happen.

“What is this man doing here?” Manuel spoke loudly.

“Kir Matsakes invited me here on a meeting,”said Alexius with clear irritation in his voice. The specific noise of moving armoured men was heard behind him and he saw several guards headed for Alexius. They did not arrest him, though but froze nearby.

“Indeed, I called you here, Kir Alexius," Constantine stepped out shortening the distance between himself and Manuel, "I believe it would be harder for Helena Theodorina to play with you two when you are together ”

Manuel eyed Helena and then his brother.

“Helena is playing with none. I never demanded anything but a brotherly help - ” began Alexius

“You love her, Alexius. You love her since the age of fourteen. I am sure Manuel remembered how you were spying on him while they were making love - ”

“How do you dare? My father is not even cold when you are spitting poison on his grave”

“Then five years later you finally managed to seduce the hetaira with a more prospective future. I know you kissed Helena once…”

Helena was still looking at Constantine unable to say anything. This could not be true, Manuel thought.

“Prove it,” ordered Alexius to the steward. The face of the Nicephorus' son acquired odious expression. “I swear this lie will not be left without consequences, Matsakes!”

“I know you visited her last night. Manuel, please, look at her clothes. This is simply another gift from Alexius ”

Something hit the head of Manuel. Without realizing what he was doing, Manuel grabbed the black spot several feet from him. He remembered the words of John the Servant before his death, the words of Constantine, the mocks of the people, and the words of Clyo. “No one understands you the way I do. Helena simply plays with you,” had said Clyo.

“Tell me it is not true,” shouted he at the smeared white spot before his eyes. The rage was burning him from inside out and gave an impulse to his trembling hands to push back the ungrateful being they were holding. The dark shadow of the hetaira fell on the ground. His brother hurled at him but the guards stood between him and Alexius. A vicious struggle started, in which Alexius was fighting like a beast shouting threats like a mad person and not until two other guardsmen intervened, he was dragged out of the garden. Something moved close to his feet. The black hair of the woman was already falling loose on her face, her dress had been torn and a bare shoulder was exposed to the eyes of the people. Her face was twisted by hatred beyond recognition; her black eyes were of a wild cat. Manuel stepped back almost colliding with one of the guards next to him. The hetaira rose at her feet and looked around,

“You and your puppet master shall pay, Manuel! Never again will you humiliate me!” She hastily left the garden leaving an aroma of jasmine into the air around. Her voice was still echoing into the mind of Manuel and the scent of the eastern plant filled his nostrils. The creep crawled up to his brain and a warm wave overcame him. Manuel lost consciousness.

-----------
---------
Some comment: I wonder if I should have put more description in the behaviour of Constantine and his way of talking. Yet, I think the words speak for themselves + Manuel's attention is more concentrated on Alexius and Helena than the steward + I feared this might have slowed down the pace of the whole scene. Any thoughts on this?

[Prince Cobra]

This is not dead. I hope I will finish the update soon. I've had some problems with inspiration and concentration on the story.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

I make the brave assumption that there is still somebody interested in this project.

[naut]

Just a quick suggestion regarding your last two updates. Both contained rather lengthy paragraphs. Perhaps split these up into more manageable paragraphs to make them more accessible for your readers.

Using your most recent update as an example:

The last tunes of the funeral solemn songs died out. Only a huge stone plate that hid the tomb of Nicephorus reminded of the existence of this man… He avoided the court of humans with his intrigues, committed numerous crimes, and corrupted a thousand of souls. Now he was a threat to none and was to pay for his deeds on the Judgment day. He should no longer bother the sense of a judge but he left a legacy. An heir accused of murder, a second son surrounded with mystery, a cunning steward making his net of intrigues, and a huge number of vultures. Ironically, there were also many women… and of course, the hetaira Helena Theodorina. Both Nicephorus’ sons had some affection for her and her role in this mysterious chain of events was unclear.

The woman was standing on the opposite side of the huge crescent that has been formed by the nobility several feet from the grave of Nicephorus. Kira Kalamanos was talking something next to her but Helena’s mind was somewhere too far away from this place. Helena turned her head towards the widow and she moved her lips. "I think we should go, Kira Kalamanos," were the exact words that the judge read. People around the judge also started moving and he glanced at the two women withdrawing to the entrance followed behind a third person, who deeply interested the judge.

Theophil hurried to reach them making his way through the nobility of Mistra. He ignored the chaos of linen and silk tunics, and faces attempting to concentrate on the movement in the female sector. A relatively poor tunic appeared and disappeared from his sight and in his desperation he even pushed at several people on his way. The more he was approaching the entrance, the slower he was moving. The progress of the woman he pursued was also hampered by the crowding people but after the new wave of veiled heads, his task was becoming very difficult. He was also moving further, creating confusion and discontent. The woman in humble clothes looked back assuring herself nobody was following her and Theophil instinctively hid his face behind the tall person in front of him. As she looked at her front, the judge excused himself for the inconvenience and bypassed the man.

In the next moment the woman vanished. It was hard to see her even in the church yard. Another couple was more visible. The respect for the widow of Kir Kalamanos and the beauty of her female companion made people move aside. The poor-dressed prostitute was also waiting for them and the judge saw her a moment only before she approached feet or two from the hetaira. Whatever she intended, something scared her and Ephigenia pulled back. Theophil hastened his pace and intercepted her right at the end of the church graveyard. He met a pair of terrified eyes that mirrored her guilty conscience.

Much easier to follow as each paragraph relates to one chain of thought. Otherwise it's almost 1 A4 page of solid text, which is quite hard to follow.

Keep it up.

[Prince Cobra]

As they went to a silent corner of the street the judge asked the prostitute with a tone concealing a threat, “Tell me what exactly you were doing with Manuel the day he fainted in front of the brothel,” Ephigenia became paler,

“I think I told Your Honour that I and Kir Doukas were making love -”

“You were lying, Ephigenia. Shall I remind you that I have the power to send you in the prison of Mistra for perjury? I doubt even your high-ranking protector can help you on time. Tell me if you want to help Manuel Doukas”

The face of the prostitute grew numb from fear but she was speechless. The judge made another step further to Ephigenia and pierced her with his eyes, “I strongly advise you to speak.”

Ephigenia continued to stare at the ground . “I- I-,” she stammered but forced herself to say it smoothly, “I thought it would put me out of suspicion. I am simply a poor prostitute and I did not want to play the role of a scapegoat. ” She sat on her bed without asking a permission and burst into crying, “I was such a fool.”

Theophil moved to her and told her with sympathetic voice. “We all make mistakes, Ephigenia. What happened then?”

“Manuel came… He wanted to speak with me -“ the girl sobbed. “He behaved strangely. I think he was overexcited, even hectic. He knelt and asked me for forgiveness. Then he left.”

“Forgiveness?”

“Manuel was not an angel, Kir Branas,” the prostitute wiped her tears. “It was not one or two times when he came to me drunk and was rude.”

Theophil smiled at her ironically, ”You mean he ran out from his guards with the sole reason to see you and to ask you for forgiveness?”

“I know it sounds strange,” the girl’s voice was wavering, “And he also did not look very well.”

“As if he was poisoned?”

“Probably. Then I thought he was slightly drunk”

“And you mean that the attempt on his life made by the drunkard was a coincidence?”

“I do not know, Kir Branas. Really. But Manuel did not look very well. ”

“And this is all Manuel told you, Ephigenia?”

The prostitute looked down, “I speak the truth, Kir Branas. But there was something more,“ Ephigenia wiped the tears from her face but the judge noticed she was checking for spies. “Manuel mumbled something of treachery and plot against the governor, his father. But please do not tell Kir Matsakes about what I told you.”

“Done,” snapped Kir Branas and immediately turned his back on the prostitute. He had no other choice but to press Ephigenia right after her accidental meeting with Helena and now he hoped that the sudden end of their conversation could deceive the spies.


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A tiny update that signals my return to work. I've planned to post a text about three times the size but I did not have time to check it + I have the feeling something must be corrected. Otherwise, there is a lot of work ready to be posted. Before that I need to read/edit it at least three times for the purposes of style polishing.

Since there has not been an update for a long time and such a large story is hard to be followed, I will give a small hint. In the investigation and the rumours amongst the people (mentioned in one of the talks between Helena (the hetaira) and Christopher (that nasty man in service of Theodore the Innkeeper who tries to woo Helena)) it was thought that Ephigenia and Manuel were making love before the accident. Apart from the effect it had on the investigation, it also reflects the relationship between Helena and Manuel (Helena thought Manuel had finally chosen her before his other mistresses but the news about Ephigenia and Manuel shook her belief in that; I won't blame the end of their relationship on this sole fact but it certainly affected their relationship ).

Thanks, Rythmic aka Psychonaut. Happy moderating!

[naut]

A dramatic interlude. I feel you are developing a good sense for subtlety.

[Prince Cobra]

The steward of Mistra watched his pupil lying on the soft bed. Nobody else was allowed to attend him now, not even Kira Kalamanos, the nominal mistress of this house. Manuel had been mumbling strange words about treachery and deception, seeing devils and angels in his trance and the name of Helena was coming out of his lips. Now he seemed to be conscious again but had become indifferent to the world around himself as he realized his nightmare was the reality. Of course, there was much shouting and even a short struggle that ended with Manuel’s body succumbing to weakness. Manuel’s recovering would be slow and painful: it was a family trait. Constantine simply hoped he will be luckier than his mother.

“Why did you not prevent me from hitting her?” the boy asked with a voice smouldering anger.

“Unfortunately, I was too far to interfere. And Manuel, I think you were following your feelings. ”

“But I love her!” he implied. “She was so patient and so wise…”

“And so beautiful and lewdly,” Constantine remarked.

“But do you know how much pain I have caused to her? I-”

“For years I have been telling you to change your way of life.” It was time to remind him his old mistakes and to shake the belief in his own judgment. “You attempted to abase your father but you did not realise you were destroying yourself”

Manuel lost his voice from the wave of feelings that overwhelmed him. “I wish I could change the past”

“It is impossible and unnecessary. You did not deserve her because she was manipulating you during all these years. She was a double-faced person who dreamed for your riches and abandoned you when she saw a better opportunity. ”

“You speak like my father!”

“No, I do not” Constantine replied in Italian, “Your father, may he rest in peace, hired this woman as his spy and then he was surprised how she started playing his game with you. You were ready to sacrifice your life for her and she ran with your brother. Is it not true?”

“This is because I behaved as a reckless person”

“Indeed, you did. But was she better? Do you know with how many men she slept?”

“But -”
“What could such a woman want from you?” the steward tried to find the eye of Manuel but the boy looked down.

“I was not there when she lost her child.”

“It is good that you said ‘her child’ ”

“Do not start again -” Manuel was both irritated and broken.

“You know with whom she slept few months before that -”

“But she also made love with me! And the man had raped her!” Manuel’s temper went again on the surface.

“Perhaps. No, Manuel, I simply think the child was not yours and she did not tell you that. ”

“She attempted -”

“But she did not. Everything proves she was cheating on you and as you explained, you still love her despite being a cuckold and a pawn in her hands. ”

“I am not!” Manuel shouted as he slightly rose from the bed. Constantine put his hand on Manuel’s chest and stopped him. The boy was surprisingly strong for his weak condition. This savage power had to be used properly.

“Manuel… relax. You need a rest”

“I need nothing,” Manuel insisted, “I’ve lost everything”

“I wish I could give you a medicine to overcome this feeling.” Constantine clenched his teeth and hissed in ear, “But you have to endure it”

“But because of her -” Manuel stopped in the middle of his sentence. His body again relaxed and his chest was swelling and going down faster and faster.

“You should not think about it when you do not have all the pieces of the puzzle “

“I can not, Constantine -”

“You feel alone…” Constantine thought for a moment and added mysteriously, “I know… At least I will soon release you from your captivity.”

Manuel looked up. The despair that clouded his mind was slightly dispersed.

“You look better,” Constantine slightly smiled. “Yes, I would like to inform you that the progress of Kir Branas is promising”

“What do you mean? Did he tell you something?” Manuel asked with both hope and fear in his voice.

“I have better sources than his words. I promised you will be soon free”

“It seems you are on the track of the murderer”

“Somebody will meet the executioner soon but this one will not be you” Constantine gave an encouraging look to the prisoner before they parted.

The guards stepped back to the right hand man of the despots of Morea. These were his chosen men - poor pronoiars, peasants, and citizens, even criminals – people who saw him as their only hope for normal existence in this cruel world. The rattling of the door chains and the guard armour reminded him he was nearing the time when these men would repay their debts to him. He progressed on where a certain woman of noble origin was waiting for him.

“Is Manuel well?” Kira Kalamanos’ question hardly concealed the different thoughts that rambled in her head. She saw Manuel as a nephew, not really a son of her but still beloved and with a special place in her heart. This woman had always been attracted by men with a dubious reputation: Manuel, the women chaser and the prodigious son, and him, Constantine. He was no more that boy that was able to conquer any heart in Constantinople, nor was he the man who managed to penetrate into the harem of the Mameluke Sultan without being caught. Yet, he still had some tricks left in his sleeve. He knew she desired him and wanted to do all those naughty things many woman of her age were even forbidden to think. Worse, she could not even express any sympathy to him right now. The ground was still uncertain, Nicephorus was just buried. Their affair was destined to be a secret for the time being.

“He is well, Kira Kalamanos” This woman also attracted him in a special way, perhaps because she appreciated his freedom, was discreet and understanding, and wealthy and of noble birth. He was busy, his mind was occupied with thoughts on the investigation, plotting and security but he could not just ignore her. He was not the dead Kir Kalamanos. ”The boy is getting better. There is nothing serious with him. Once again I am grateful for your hospitality.” He added one of those conquering smiles his aging face still preserved. The eyes of the widow shined. Few more polite phrases and Ripsimia took her leave. She would probably prepare for him a warm, though clumsy welcome this night. She was his calm haven in a stormy reality. For he was going to prepare another storm. His minor purpose and important distraction was in the small house lying close to the graveyard. He had abundance of time to consider his opening words and to draft a plan to lure his victim. He had been practicing this art for decades.

[naut]

Constantine feels distinctly evil. Snake-like really.