Chapter 48

Axe Practice

Weeks passed. From time to time they would meet John Ducas at the baths. He and Pons would discretely gossip while Pons trimmed the elder statesman’s beard and shaved his cheeks. He had little of serious importance to report.

From time to time Brian the Saxon would pop by the Golden Eel. He and Pons would discretely gossip over wine and a meal. He let little of any real value slip.

In their room over the Eel, Pons and Cyn lounged on a boring and rainy afternoon. Cyn sat on his bed with his back to the wall darning the cuffs of his tunic. From time to time a hand axe thrown by Pons would lazily spin end-over-end to unerringly land with a ‘Thwock’ in the center of a target - a few inches cleanly sawed off the end of a large log about a meter in circumference - which hung on one wall. Pons paced back and forth pulling his axe out of the wood and returning to stand at the far wall to throw it again. A single drip was coming through the tile roof and a cup had been set on the floor to catch the water. As more of a challenge, Pons was starting to time his throws to hit the falling drop on the way to the target.

“We need someone close to Emperor Andronikos who can secretly tell us of his plans so we can seek for an advantage.” Drip -Thwock. The center of the target was becoming pulpy from so many hits.

“A spy you mean?”

“Si,” Pons replied, pacing the room. “Exactly.”

“John Ducas is friendly and knows everybody.”

“John Ducas’ best friend is John Ducas. He is helping us, if he is helping us, only to keep a foot in both army camps. He sent word to young Theodore Kantakouzenos about Renier’s funeral so we would meet. He wants to stir the soup pot without it seeming like he is doing anything. For all I know he could be seeking to lead us into a trap to increase his own standing with Emperor Andronikos, or for some other reason of his own. He will sit in the middle and not make any decision until he is absolutely certain which side will gain victory. Then he will try to turn the situation to his own advantage.” Drip -Thwock. “He is friendly, though. Maybe why he is still alive.”

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“What about Brian the Saxon?”

Pons crossed the room and retrieved his axe. “Brian will meet us for some wine and tell a rumor or two, but he knows we are up to no good. He thinks he can protect Emperor Alexios until he comes of age to rule on his own. He cannot. Once the boy is dead he will have to be Andronikos’ man, but he will not be happy about it - and he will only be doing it for coin, not for honor. If a suitable alternative to Andronikos could be found… I like the boy from the funeral - noble of blood, but also noble of nature.” Drip - Thwock. Left handed this time - the hand axe still flipped true to the target center.

“Too young - did you see his thin little mustache?”

“Hair grows. Any barber will tell you that. People grow. A young emperor will hopefully mean a long reign. People are looking forward to peaceful times with Alexios. If he is gone they will not be happy with a mad, power hungry, old man. At that point Brian the Saxon may be bought - but it would mean buying the entire Verangian guard and there are hundreds of them. They cannot be fought. They must be bribed, and even then they would only fall in behind a man who had support of both nobility and church.” Drip - Thwock. “Andronikos has cupbearers who taste his food and magicians who protect him from the evil eye and warn him of the dangers the future holds.”

“What about the Emperor’s concubine, Mariapitkee?”

Drip - Thwock. Pons did not ask,“Who?” with his voice, merely with his raised eyebrows.

“The pretty one we saw on the first day.” Cyn supplied.

“Did Brian tell you about her?”

“No, the first night we arrived after the race, you said I could go to a good brothel. I saw her there.”

“At the brothel?” Pons withdrew the axe from the end of the log slowly.

“I was on my way out and she was on her way in. She looked like the Emperor had been rough with her and she was crying. Nestor knows the place. He can help us find it.”

Drip - Thwock.