Kay, Guy Gavriel – Sarantine Mosaic 01 – Sailing to Sarantium

Leontes said, ‘That is idolatry, of course. A reversion to paganism. What are your thoughts?’

‘Men need a pathway to their god,’ Crispin said quietly. ‘But I con­fess, I prefer to keep my views to myself on such matters.’ He forced a smile of his own. ‘Uncharacteristic as reticence about faith might be in Sarantium. My lord, I am here at the Emperor’s behest and will endeav­our to please him with my work.’

‘And the Patriarchs? Pleasing them?’

‘One always hopes for the approval of one’s betters,’ Crispin mur­mured. He passed a corner of his sheet across his streaming face. Through the steam, he thought he saw blue eyes flicker and the mouth quirk a little. Leontes was not without a sense of humour. It came as a relief of sorts. It was very much in his mind that there was no one here with them, and that this man’s wife had been in Crispin’s bedchamber this morning and had said . . . what she had said. This did not, he decided, represent the most predictable of encounters.

He managed another smile. ‘If you find me an inappropriate conversa­tionalist on military matters-and I can see why you might-why would you imagine we ought to discuss my work in the Sanctuary? Tesserae and their designs? How much do you know or care to know about tinting glass? Or cutting it? What have you decided about the merits and meth­ods of angling tesserae in the setting bed? Or the composition and layers of the setting bed itself? Have you any firm views on the use of smooth stones for the flesh of human figures?’

The other man was eyeing him gravely, expressionless. Crispin paused, modulated his tone. ‘We each have our areas of endeavour, my lord. Yours matters rather more, I would say, but mine might . . . last longer. We’d likely do best conversing-should you honour me-about other matters entirely. Were you at the Hippodrome yesterday?’

Leontes shifted a little on his bench; his white sheet settled around his hips. There was a vivid diagonal scar running from his collarbone to his waist in a reddened line like a seam. He leaned over and poured another ewer of water on the stones. Steam cloaked the room for a moment.

‘Siroes had no difficulty telling us about his designs and intentions,’ the Strategos said.

Us, Crispin thought. ‘Your lady wife was his sponsor, I understand,’ he murmured. ‘He also did some private work for you, I believe.’

‘Trees and flowers in mosaic, yes. For our nuptial chambers. Deer at a stream, boars and hounds, that sort of thing. I have no difficulty at all with such images, of course.’ His tone was very earnest.

‘Of course. Fine work, I’m sure,’ Crispin said mildly.

There was a little silence.

‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Leontes. ‘I imagine it is competent.’ His teeth flashed briefly again. ‘As you say, I could no more judge it than you could appraise a general’s tactics.’

‘You sleep in the room,’ Crispin replied, perversely abandoning his own argument. ‘You look at it every night.’

‘Some nights,’ said Leontes briefly. ‘I don’t pay much attention to the flowers on the wall.’

‘But you worry enough about the god in a sanctuary to arrange this encounter?’

The other man nodded. ‘That is different. Do you intend to render an image of Jad on the ceiling?’

‘The dome. I rather suspect that is what is expected of me, my lord. In the absence of instruction otherwise from the Emperor, or the Patri­archs, as you say, I should think I have to.’

‘You don’t fear the taint of heresy?’

‘I have been rendering the god since I was an apprentice, my lord. If this has formally become heresy instead of a matter of current debate, no one has informed me of the change. Has the army taken to shaping cler­ical doctrine? Shall we now discuss how to breach enemy walls with chanted Invocations of Jad? Or launch Holy Fools in catapults?’

He’d gone too far, it seemed. Leontes’s expression darkened. ‘You are impertinent, Rhodian.’

‘I hope not, my lord. I am indicating that I find your chosen subject intrusive. I am not a Sarantine, my lord. I am a Rhodian citizen of Batiara, invited here as a guest of the Empire.’