cretins.
Another vision. Nothing but a quick flashing image:
A horseman galloping across the steppe. A barbarian of some kind. Belisarius did not recognize his tribe. He rode his horse with complete grace and confidence. The image flashed to his legs. His feet.
The thought finally burst through.
stirrups.
Belisarius’ mouth fell open.
“I’ll be Goddamned,” he whispered. “Why didn’t anybody ever think of that?”
stupid.
Chapter 9
CONSTANTINOPLE
Autumn, 528 ad
“The man of the hour!” cried Sittas. “O hail the triumphant conq’rer!” He drained his cup in one quaff. “I’d rise to greet you, Belisarius, but I’m afraid I’d swoon in the presence of so august a personage.” He hiccuped. “I’m given to hero worship, you know. Terrible habit, just terrible.” He seized the flagon resting on the small table next to his couch and waved it about. “I’d pour you a drink, too, but I’m afraid I’d spill the wine. Trembling in the company of so legendary a figure, you understand, like a giddy schoolgirl.”
Sittas refilled the cup. His meaty hand was steady as a rock.
“Speaking of which,” he continued, “—giddy schoolgirls, that is—let me introduce you to my friend.” Sittas waved his other hand in the general direction of a woman sitting on the couch next to him. “Irene Macrembolitissa, I present you the famed General Belisarius. And his lovely wife, Antonina.”
Belisarius advanced across the room and bowed politely—to the woman, not Sittas.
Irene was quite striking in appearance. Not pretty, precisely, but attractive in a bold sort of way. She had a light complexion, chestnut hair, brown eyes, and a large aquiline nose. She appeared to be in her late twenties, but Belisarius thought she might be older.
The calm, unreadable expression on Belisarius’ face never wavered. But he was more than a little surprised. Irene was quite unlike Sittas’ usual run of female “friends.” By about fifteen years of age and, the general estimated, twice the intelligence.
“Don’t look at him too closely, Irene!” warned Sittas. “You never know what can happen with these mythical demigod types. Probably get you pregnant just from his aura.”
Irene smiled. “Please ignore him. He’s pretending to be drunk.”
“He’s good at it,” remarked Antonina. “As well he should be, as much practice as he gets.”
A look of hurt innocence came upon Sittas’ beefy face. It fit very poorly.
“I am mortified,” he whined. “Outraged. Offended beyond measure.” He drained his cup again, and reached for the flagon. “You see what your insults have done, vile woman? Driven me to drink, by God! To drink!”
Irene rose and went over to a long table against the far wall of the salon. She returned with a cup in each hand, and gave them to Belisarius and Antonina.
“Please have a seat,” she said, motioning to another couch nearby. The large room was well-nigh littered with couches, all of them richly upholstered. The colors of the upholstery clashed wildly with the mosaics and tapestries which adorned all the walls. The wall coverings looked to be even more expensive than the couches, for all that they were in exquisitely bad taste.
After the general and his wife took a seat, Irene filled their cups from another flagon. She placed the flagon on a table and returned to her own couch.
“Sittas has told me much about you,” Irene said.
“Did I tell you he has much better taste in furnishings?” muttered Sittas. His beady eyes scanned the room admiringly.
“Muskrats have better taste in furnishings than you do, Sittas,” murmured Irene sweetly. She smiled at Belisarius and Antonina. “Isn’t this room hideous?” she asked.
Antonina laughed. “It’s like a bear’s den.”
“A very rich bear,” commented Sittas happily. “Who can well afford to ignore the petty artistic quibbling of the lesser sort. Plebeian envy, that’s all it is.” He leaned forward. “But enough of that! Let’s hear it, Belisarius. I want the full account, mind you, the full account. I’ll stand for none of your usual laconicness!”
“There’s no such word, Sittas,” said Irene.
” ‘Course there is! I just used it, didn’t I? How could I use a word that doesn’t exist?” He grinned at Belisarius and began to take another swallow of wine. “Now—out with it! How in the world did you swindle the terrible twins out of their army?”