The Tale of Krispos by Harry Turtledove

Author:Harry Turtledove
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780345502773
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2007-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

BARSYMES STUCK HIS HEAD INTO THE AUDIENCE CHAMBER. “THE most holy patriarch Pyrrhos is here to see you, Your Majesty.”

“Good. He should be done to a turn by now.” Krispos had put off four days of increasingly urgent requests from the patriarch for an audience. He turned to Iakovitzes, Mammianos, and Rhisoulphos. “Excellent and eminent sirs, I ask you to bear careful witness to what takes place here today, so that you may take oath on it at need.”

The three nobles nodded, formally and solemnly. Mammianos said, “This had better work.”

“The beauty of it is, I’m no worse off if it doesn’t,” Krispos answered. “Now to business. I hear Pyrrhos coming.”

The patriarch prostrated himself with his usual punctiliousness. He glanced at the three high-ranking men who sat to Krispos’ left, but only for a moment. His eyes sparked as he swung them back to Krispos. “Your Majesty, I must vehemently protest this recent decision of yours.” He drew out the note Krispos had sent him.

“Oh? Why is that, most holy sir?”

Pyrrhos’ jaw set. He knew when he was being toyed with. With luck, he did not know why. He ground out, “Because, Your Majesty, you have restored to the monk Gnatios—the treacherous, wicked monk Gnatios—as much liberty as is enjoyed by the other brethren of the monastery dedicated to the sacred memory of the holy Skirios. Moreover, you have done so without consulting me.” Plainer than words, his face said what he would have answered had Krispos consulted him.

“The monk Gnatios did a great service for me and for the Empire,” Krispos said. “Because of that, I’ve decided to overlook his past failings.”

“I haven’t,” Pyrrhos said. “This interference in the internal affairs of the temples is unwarranted and intolerable.”

“In this special case, I judged not. And let me remind you that the Avtokrator is Avtokrator over all the Empire, cities and farms and temples alike. Most holy sir, I have the right if I choose to use it, and I choose to use it here.”

“Intolerable,” Pyrrhos repeated. He drew himself up. “Your Majesty, if you persist in you pernicious course, I have no choice but to submit to you my resignation in protest thereof.”

Off to Krispos’ left, someone sighed softly. He thought it was Rhisoulphos. It was all the applause he would ever get, but it was more than enough. “I’m sorry to hear that from you, most holy sir,” he said to Pyrrhos. Just by a hair’s breath, the patriarch began to relax. But Krispos was not finished. “I accept your resignation. These gentlemen will attest you offered it of your own free will, with no coercion whatsoever.”

Iakovitzes, Mammianos, and Rhisoulphos nodded, formally and solemnly.

“You—planned this,” Pyrrhos said in a ghastly voice. He saw everything, too late.

“I did not urge you to resign,” Krispos pointed out. “You did it yourself. Now that you have done it, Barsymes will prepare a document for you to sign.”

“And if I refuse to set my signature upon it?”

“Then you have resigned even so.

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