A Triple-headed Serpent. Marié Heese

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СКАЧАТЬ to be fixed on some fearful sight. Despite her age and apparent frailty she had strong fingers. One could take her for a blacksmith, thought Theodora, with so hard a grip.

      “What is it?”

      “Darkness,” she said.

      “Darkness?”

      “A terrible wave of darkness will come upon the world,” she said, with an expression of total horror. “It will sweep across entire countries from shore to shore. It will bring death and destruction … there will be lamentations and tearing of hair and gnashing of teeth. People will fall like grain before the sickle of the Grim Reaper … thousands … upon thousands …”

      “Will it reach Constantinople? Will I die?”

      “Yes … yes, it will reach the very heart of the Empire. Alas and alack! The city will be walled about by the bodies of the dead!”

      Surely not, thought Theodora. She’s dishing up drama to impress me. “Will I die?” she asked again.

      “No, no … not in the black flood. You will survive it, Kyria, because you will be supported and carried through by one who loves you very much. One who adores you.”

      “Well, that’s a comfort, at least,” said Theodora.

      The sibyl shivered violently, then seemed to come to herself. She expelled a long sigh, letting go of Theodora’s hands. Her grip had been painful, and Theodora rubbed her hands and wrists.

      “Well, then,” said Theodora, thinking that the woman would doubtless expect extra gold for that last performance. “What do I owe you?”

      “Nothing, Kyria. It has been arranged.”

      On the way home in a modest sedan chair behind closed curtains, Theodora pondered the woman’s words. Where she had been specific, she had been right. One might almost suspect, thought Theodora, that she had been primed. She wouldn’t put it past Narses to have done exactly that. What the woman had said had been both comforting and frightening, if one took the final vision seriously. But no, thought Theodora, recalling the old crones she had seen as a child in the streets near the Hippodrome, who had chewed on soap and screeched spurious prophecies of disaster while foaming at the mouth, thus earning donations from passing men temporarily frightened into repentance. No, she did not believe any of that.

      At the palace, Narses enquired solicitously: “Was the interview of any help, Despoina?”

      “She told me very little that was specific,” said Theodora. “Warned me against the treachery of an official … one of three, she said.”

      “Cappadocian John,” said Narses immediately. “The man will bear watching, certainly. And?”

      “At first she was comforting. Made me feel a great deal better. But then she seemed to have some kind of vision. A wave of darkness, she said, that will sweep across countries, from shore to shore.”

      “Darkness? What did she mean?”

      “She was not explicit. These women seldom are. Stormy weather, perhaps,” said Theodora, reluctant to repeat the dire predictions of death.

      “Did she say how it would affect you personally, Despoina?”

      “She said I wouldn’t die, I would be carried through by one who adores me. If it happens, naturally, that will be Justinian.”

      Narses was silent.

      “Obvious, isn’t it?”

      “It’s the interpretation that springs to mind,” said Narses. He cleared his throat. “So, she does not seem to have brought much cheer.”

      “She was rather given to doom and gloom. And yet I do feel better, having spoken to her. She said it is possible that I may yet have a son. And she has shown me the way forward. I must find more ways to serve Christ.”

      “Not dwell on what is over,” agreed Narses. “Take positive action.”

      “Yes, I have been pondering how we can reach out to our people … We must do something public. Not chariot races, not just yet. The Hippodrome is still closed down. But …”

      A thoughtful frown creased his simian face. “A procession through the streets, perhaps, stopping at some churches that have remained undamaged,” he suggested. “A litany of penitence.”

      “Ah! You are right,” she said. “That is exactly what needs to be done. Yes! A procession, a litany of penitence! It will be a striking spectacle.” As a former actress in the Kynêgion, she knew all about spectacles. “Even as a small child, I once experienced the power of symbolic action to sway the emotions of a crowd.”

      “When was that, Despoina?”

      “After my father died. You know he was keeper of the bears, for the Greens?”

      “It is generally known, Despoina. Also, that a bear killed him.”

      “Yes. We were destitute. My mother married again in haste, and our stepfather took over the bear-keeping post,” said Theodora. “But then he was dismissed, for no good reason. My mother took me and my sisters to the Kynêgion, barefoot and dressed in white, to beg that he should be reinstated.”

      “You walked into the amphitheatre? Three little girls? One never heard about that. It must have been terrifying.”

      “Extremely.”

      “And did it succeed?”

      “Not at first.” She felt again the demeaning pressure of the contemptuous silence that had answered them. She recalled the complete degradation of that moment of rejection. “The Greens ignored us. But then the dancing master of the Blues called us over to the opposite side of the amphitheatre and offered him the same post with the Blues.”

      “You touched his heart,” said Narses.

      “The Blues took our side,” she said. Those small figures all in white enacting supplication had in the end moved the hearts of thousands of men. She would never forget that.

      “Ah. Now I understand, Despoina, why you always support the Blues.”

      “So, I think you have precisely the right idea. We shall wear full mourning,” she said. “The Emperor and I. And everyone in the procession shall wear black sashes.”

      “The Patriarch should preside,” added Narses, ever aware of protocol.

      “Of course. Not merely a palace priest. Yet they must walk with us. Their stoles should be black.”

      “Yes, Despoina. I … ah … don’t think the generals Belisarius and Mundus should …”

      “No, no. Too many people lost loved ones at their hands. But General Sittas might join us.”

      “Yes, Despoina. It is known that he made many Christian converts after conquering the Tzani. I shall put everything in train.”

      Chapter 2: A litany of penitence

      The СКАЧАТЬ