Chapter 52

Down the Drain

The coverlet was wrapped too tightly around him. The combined weight of his three pleasure girls, as they snuggled close for warmth in the nippy predawn made Andronikos feel confined. One lay on his arm. No longer as strong as he once had been, his elbow and shoulder were beginning to hurt from the way in which she lay. Similarly, another girl laying on his legs was causing a prickling sensation in his toes from the loss of regular blood flow.

Uncomfortable in body, his dreams carried him back to that claustrophobic and nightmarish place.

* * *

If Andronikos had thought he could escape by slithering out of the dungeon through a drainage pipe in the floor of his prison cell, he was mistaken. He was one of the largest men in the empire.

As he slid down the square brick lined aperture, skin scraped off his hips and shoulders. His feet hit the bottom leaving the top of his head exposed at about eyeball level even with the floor. That was all, he could go no farther.

Except. Hold on. He could - barely - drop to his knees and fit his feet into the drainage pipe which ran horizontally.

Oh shit. What was that dampness? Was he kneeling in… shit? And now he was stuck - completely wedged in, hardly able to breathe.

The man from the next cell spoke. “Who was the princess? And why was she in need of rescue on a rainy night in a siege camp?”

Running out of breath, with his fingertips on the rim of the drainage hole above his head, he heaved and regained his footing. No way out. Andronikos was about to shriek in his frustration, but instead he hesitated and became completely silent. An idea was forming. He let the low fellow’s question go unanswered.

Not a way out. But… perhaps… a palace to hide. Shhhh. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. A trick, an illusion, a magician's disappearing act. Quietly, by the flickering candlelight his large fingers began to weave an enchantment using the thin thread from the spool his wife had dropped - material component of his invisibility spell.

When he judged the time to be right, Andronikos placed the chair next to the hole, and sank back down into it again. He lowered the metal grate back into its original position above his head. He tugged the thread which was carefully knotted around the chair’s leg pulling it until it sat directly on top of the grate. A gentle tug at the other end of the thread and the knot came free. Patience.

He heard the servant’s footsteps, breaking crockery, the exclamation and running retreat. The rapist in the nearby cell hissed something. It was working. Guards arrived.

“How in Hell?” Keys jangled. The lock turned. The door opened.

How he wished he could see their faces.

Again, “How in Hell?”

“That was locked? Just now?”

“Of course you saw me unlock it.”

“And the key, was it on your belt all night?”

“All night, on my life.”

“It may well be - ‘on your life.’ Do you have any idea how much trouble we are in? Go Boy. Summon the head Papias.”

He could hear the guards' clunky footsteps above. One rummaged in his bedding as if he were to be found there, the other sat on the chair directly above his head, cursing and fretting. Andronikos wanted to laugh, but continued to breathe through his nose - rhythmically and quietly - concentrating on putting the cramping in his legs and pain in his knees aside.

Time passed. What was happening? A sea gull squawked. Church bells rang the call to morning prayer. Eventually the summoned official arrived.

“Why are you here? Is it the day for Prince Andronikos to visit the baths? Why are you not guarding him?”

“The boy found his cell empty.”

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“What do you mean? Speak clearly.”

“The noble one has absconded in the night.”

From his limited view through the grate into the dimly lit cell, Andronikos could see the castelan - Basil (or Demetrios?) - one of the Patreneros clan - throw his hat of office on the cell floor in rage. “How?!” He stomped on the mitre.

Andronikos suppressed his urge to laugh again. “If I put my finger up I could tickle his foot,” he thought.

The Papias turned to the nearby cell. “You, what is your name? Who is this?” He asked of both the prisoner and the guards simultaneously. The guards could not remember who he was, so after a brief pause the prisoner supplied “Stephen…” (something - Andronikos could not hear him clearly).

“What has happened to the man in this cell?”

“I do not know, Domine. I heard nothing. I saw nothing.”

“The man in the cell next to you escapes and you hear nothing? The only way out is past you to the stairs. You saw nothing?”

“I saw nothing. It is very dark in here at night.”

“Dark? At night? Guards take this man to the rack. He heard nothing. He saw nothing. But he will say something. Once he is broken.”

“Please, please, I beseech you. I am as surprised and dumbfounded as can be? I have no idea what has happened to the noble one. All was quiet. We spoke for a time and then I fell asleep. I will swear on any icon. I know nothing.”

“And what did you speak of? Did he tell you of his plans?”

“No Domine, he told me of times past. His youth.”

“Explain how he is not in his cell.”

“I do not know,” Stephen blubbered. “ It is as if the hand of the Lord pulled him to heaven if he was innocent or the hand of the Foul One pulled him to Hell for his guilt. I do not know! Please, you must believe me.”

“Enough. You will be dealt with later.” The master of the palace spoke to one of the guards, “You, fetch your captain. Why is he not here already? Go.” To the other, “The Basileus must be told. Seek for him, hopefully he has not left the palace grounds yet this morning. When you find him, whisper directly in his ear. Go.”

The Papias collapsed in the chair, bent over and hung his head between his knees and let out a frustrated, “Aaaargh!” He picked his miter off the floor and brushed the footprint his slipper had left on it.

Andronikos closed his eyes lest a reflective glint give him away. His face was less than a meter below the metal covering. His arms above his head ached from the confinement and the awkward position. He felt woozy. He breathed slowly and quietly - in through the nose, and out softly through the mouth.

“I see you back there.”

Not a breath, eyes clenched.

“You boy. You are servant in the prisons, Yes…? Come closer and speak up, I cannot hear you,” the Piapas commanded.

Thank God. The Papias had stopped looking downwards.

“Yes, Dominus.” The boy’s voice was quiet.

“Did Prince Andronikos say anything to you? Anything at all? You have nothing to fear, no harm will come to you.”

“No, Dominus.”

“And this door, when was it last unlocked?”

A pause. “Two mornings ago, when the most noble one was escorted to the baths.”

“And afterwards? The door, was it locked?”

A pause. “I assisted the barber. I am sure the guard secured it when we left the cell.”

“On your soul?”

“On my soul.”

“Fine. Good. Up off your knees. Go fetch the Master of the Inkstand. Tell him I command him to come. Here take this signet ring. Should anyone stop you - show it and tell the person that stops you I will have them flayed. Once you have found the Kanikleios, round up as many kitchen and stable boys as you can and bring them here. We will need messengers to run dispatches to the gatekeepers and the harbormasters in order to seal the city.”

Time passed with more agony. He could no longer feel his fingers. He was suffocating, it was so hard to breathe. The captain of the guard entered moments before Emperor Manuel (or did Manuel arrive first followed by the captain of the guard). Andronikos was fading in and out of awareness. Statements of outrage and disbelief. What is to be done? He could not have gone far? Someone must have helped him? The Papias related what the boy said, and what the neighboring prisoner claimed he did not see. The Master of the Inkstand arrived. Were they going to write the dispatches to the harbormasters one by one in the cell above him?

Sure enough - page after page written, sealed, signed. His shoulders. His back. His knees. He stifled his wimpers of pain. So exhausted. He had been awake all night. Why was everyone standing about in the cell, when it was clear he was not in it? Please God why would they not simply go out - leaving the cell door unlocked behind them?

Just before he lost consciousness there was some discussion of keys. The gaoler had one set and the Papias kept another in his desk which he had brought with him when summoned. Both keys were present and accounted for.

The Papias kept a key in his desk.

Just after he blacked out the order was given for possible accomplices to be brought in for questioning.