Chapter 32

The Emperor’s Favorite

Standing by the railing of the kasthima overlooking the racetrack, Maraptikee felt a nervous dread again. She had risen far for a young woman who had been born in poverty and sold as a slave by her own parents. Now here she was on this beautiful day in the company of the Emperor, dropping the mappa to start the races. Was she blessed? As the Basileus’ favorite she was certainly envied by all of Pandarus’ other girls. It seemed like a happy dream. Everything she could ever have hoped for.

Seemed. It was not true. None of it.

It was not even a beautiful day anymore. The sky was becoming heavy and clouding over. The races were rather sad, and now they had given way to another execution. It looked to Maraptikee as if the next wretch was to be fed to a pack of dogs right before her eyes. Not a dream. What had the condemned done to displease the Emperor? Something truly evil or something trivial? This morning the Emperor had slid a dagger from under a pillow and placed it to her throat. She had pretended to be asleep. Forcing herself to breathe regularly and slowly despite wanting to scream, wanting to run. Did he suspect her of something? Or did he simply want to watch her die? Breathing in, and out - trusting in her beauty and appearance of innocence to protect her. This morning it seemed to have been enough. When he withdrew the blade she continued softly inhaling and exhaling and had even drifted off to troubled sleep again.

Maraptikee had only been introduced to the Emperor a few months ago. Scant days after Andronikos entered the city and the Latin Quarter burned, Maraptikee’s owner Pandarus had been summoned to the palace and was told to bring half a dozen of his loveliest and most cultured girls.

Pandarus was relieved by this news. As Constantinople’s leading slave merchant for the well-to-do in search of quality household slaves, business had been uncertain for the past few days. The massacre of his best paying clientele - the Latin merchants - had shocked and horrified him. His business faced financial ruin.

Pandarus’ inventory of slaves was not full of captured barbarians to be turned into field hands or sent to the mines to be worked to death. His merchandise was of a finer stock - educated Greeks and foreigners who had sold themselves to become slaves in a wealthy household as stewards, accountants, tutors, or even physicians. Destitute, stranded, or captured sailors for whom no ransom would be paid had been another constantly profitable branch. A navigator was worth a small fortune. One of his most profitable lines was in acquiring beautiful children from impoverished families and having them trained to be courtesans in dance, the erotic arts, music, and polite conversation. With the wealthiest customers in the city now dead or fled he was uncertain of his future. Under pious Emperor Manuel no treasury money had ever come his way. The summons from Andronikos had him dreaming of an Imperial appointment.

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Marapitkee and her younger sister Eyrienee were sixth and seventh daughters from one such impoverished family. Their father, a farmer from near what had once been Sparta, had been unable to seed a son on his wife. Barely able to dower the two oldest girls and completely unable to provide for the rest, he had not hesitated when one of Pandarus’ agents had approached him to buy one of the comely children. Only the tears of her mother had prevented him from selling more than two girls. She could hardly remember her father now. Only his constant bellowing, “Be quiet. Damn you all.” - directed at the many women in his life.

Eyrienee and Maraptikee comforted one another and cried for their mother as they were taken away. The agent told them not to be sad. They were off to be married to strong handsome young men. And rich. So rich they would have servants to hold their silver.

Arriving at Pandarus’ stable in Constantinople had shown that to be a lie. With the agent rewarded for his keen eye, the girls were sent for instruction and grooming. Clean, beautiful, taught to recite Greek poetry perfectly, and speak pleasantly in conversation as well, educated in music, singing, dancing, and the sensual arts. Rented for the evening, month, or party. Alone or in groups.

Maraptikee and the other girls followed Pandarus to the residential palace in the city’s north east. Pandarus had made sure to include voluptuous Zoe with her curly dark hair and curvy hips and ample bust, and even a pale skinned yellow haired Frankish slave from far to the north for variety. Ushered past the gate guards they had been shown by an official to an enclosed courtyard. Pandarus was instructed to display the slaves and the Emperor would be by shortly to make his selections. “Selections.” The official used the plural. Pandarus’ hopes continued to rise. Quickly organizing the courtesans: Who was to stand where? In what pose? Was there time to create a theme? The muses perhaps, brought out for the Emperor's entertainment? Pandarus did the best he could to display his merchandise. Smiles. Smile with your eyes also. Show some bosom.

Awesome in size and impressive in garb, Andronikos swept in trailed by attendants, petitioners, toadies, and guards. Seeing the lovely women arranged about the courtyard he held up his hand. Everyone stopped. He dismissively waved his hand and the followers melted away. A smile played under his mustache. His eyes narrowed, scanning all. When they were more alone, Andronikos stepped forward and nodded to Pandarus.

“I am told you were the man to talk to about bed warmers.”

“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty, I am honored that my reputation has reached your ears. With such short notice I hope the limited stock I have on hand will be pleasing.”

“We will see. The love of my life is forbidden to me by that oaf in the Hagia Sophia and languishes alone in Onnion. But that does not mean I also have to languish alone. You and I are both men. I have traveled, you have traveled. We know the world. I am a busy man. I have responsibilities and am getting more each day. I do not need a problematic woman. I need a quiet, sweet, and docile one. No temper tantrums. No smashed dishes.”

“Rest assured all of my companions exist only to comfort, never to vex. All are lovely as you can see, all have special skills to sooth a man's mind and body. Mary sings like a nightingale, and only coos with delight. Ariadne’s fingers can massage the aches from your shoulders and thighs, and other muscles. Meraptikee plays the flute so softly it is as if she has harnessed the air we breathe to soothe your soul - then she plays your flute as well. She has a twin sister, so peaceful and quiet she does not even speak.” He indicated Eyrienee.

In no time at all an arrangement was made. Not a sale, but a lease - of all six and on such terms.