The Bear of Byzantium by S.J.A. Turney

Author:S.J.A. Turney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

‘What is he shouting?’ Halfdan bellowed over the noise as they pushed their way into the great sandy arena floor from the starting gates.

The hippodrome was packed with the people of Constantinople, and not just the stands, but the racing circuit too. Every man and woman there seemed determined to have his grievances heard over everyone else, the sound of a hundred thousand angry people creating enough of a din to drown out the announcement itself.

A ripple of surprised and expectant silence began to spread out from them as the gathered populace finally noticed the military pushing their way into the arena, with some of the city’s most notable men at its head.

‘I can’t tell,’ Maniakes replied in his deep giant’s voice, ‘but look. The emperor fears for his safety.’

There was no denying that. The kathisma, the imperial viewing box from which generations of rulers had watched the races, and which connected directly to the palace, was occupied by a small well-dressed party, but the crowds were kept well back from it by a mixed force of Varangians and city garrison troops – the Teicheiotai and the Noumeroi – occupying the stands in a ring around the raised box. The emperor was little more than a small, gleaming and brightly coloured figure at this distance, but it was clear he was accompanied by important and rich men and senior officers. He was addressing the crowd, judging by his oratorical flailing, but whatever he was saying was lost in the boom of angry voices.

Valgarðr turned and passed word to his men, and in moments the soldiers with them were beginning to forge forward, making a way through the great venue for their commanders. Halfdan and his friends remained with Maniakes and Valgarðr in the hippodrome while another force, led by Kabasilos and the patriarch, had separated outside the arcades and was now addressing the people before the palace gates. The rippled silence continued to spread, and as they neared the heart of the hippodrome, Halfdan’s view of the imperial box became gradually clearer. He could see the emperor now, though not in true detail. He could imagine it, though, the cold sweat, the twitch, the nerves.

Even as they finally came to a halt and the noise had dropped to little more than a pervasive murmur, the activity in the kathisma increased. The emperor was announcing something about the empress, and Halfdan was straining to hear when the subject became clear without the need for words.

Zoe Porphyrogenita, Empress of Byzantium, was brought forward into public view. An awed hush descended upon the crowd, and Halfdan’s mind raced. He wondered if they saw what he saw, or just the empress they loved. Even from this distance, he could tell that the empress was unusually pale. Her crown was missing, and her head had been covered with a voluminous hat to hide her stubbly shaved pate. She was dressed in rich robes, but Halfdan had seen the empress often enough to recognise that they had not been carefully arranged and dressed by servants, but hastily thrown over her.

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