Chapter 75

At the Harbor of Eleutherios

“You have arrived on an eventful day, My Lord,” Pons said as he greeted the Margrave. Lord Guilhelm was first down the gangplank and clasped his captain’s shoulder as they shook hands. It was courtesies such as this which had won the loyalty of a landless orphan. Oddly, the fiasco at Damascus had been the best thing to ever happen to Pons’ fortunes.

“I see you are not alone,” The Margrave acknowledged the bows of Cyn and Marius who had accompanied Pons to the Eleutherion harbor. He had the grace to smile politely at an accompanying club footed hunchback and another elderly cripple who appeared to be hushing a pair of girls with bouquets at the end of the dock.

“I see you are not alone either, my liege.”

“When it became known that I was traveling to Jerusalem, everyone, along with his auntie and all his cousins, sought to sail under my flag. What you see is the backlog of years of pilgrims who have been waiting to travel. One ship is mine, the other two have them packed in like cordwood.” The Margrave indicated the following vessels which were even now drawing up. “They are from all over, but they hope my standing and reputation will protect them.”

“It hurts me to say that your standing and reputation avail you little here my Lord, so it is well that I have paid the harbormaster to remain silent about your arrival. Between that bribe and the flowers, I am afeard that I am without coin. I hope you brought a war chest.”

“Yes miser, you will be paid, and I expect an accounting of the funds I sent with you. Has my son been laid to rest?”

Pons nodded. “Across the golden horn - in Galata.”

“The girls with the flowers can accompany us. I will stop there first and the blooms can be laid on my son's tomb. The pilgrims however, having come this far, will insist on seeing the sights. Will that be possible? How do things stand in the city?”

“As I said, it is an eventful day. Andronikos is camped outside of the city at this moment but at noon will be making a triumphant parade to the Hippodrome.”

“A triumph? Over whom?”

“The triumph is over… us. We backed a rebellion. It was crushed. We should talk. Fortunately the walk to the Golden Horn will give us time.”

“I have been at sea for weeks. I could use a long walk to stretch my legs.”

“Nestor, Zinth, escort the pilgrims from these ships to… the nearest baths first, I should think. Have them buy local clothing on the way to change into after they wash. No need for them to stand out. Then a nice tour around the Hagia Sophia and other holy sights. You two move at the pace of gawking pilgrims seeing the marvels at the best of times. That should take all day. Back at the ships by dusk, si? The streets will be crowded today so do not lose any of them.” Pons spoke Greek.

“Nestor and Zinth?”

Pons switched to the language of Occitan. “New friends. Long walk. Long talk.”

He called up to the ship's captain who stood nearby at the gunwale, “Resheet with white sail. Reprovision by tonight and be ready to put out, pilot boat or no pilot boat, men at the sweeps, at a moment's notice.” he spoke Venetian Vulgar Latin taking the man to be from that city.

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Margrave Guilhelm arched an eyebrow. “As dangerous as all that? Is that why you are dressed as a rustic?”

“I paid the harbormaster to be blind, my Lord. We cannot pay every eye to close. Is Andronikos spying on his own docks? I doubt it. Somehow I do not think he is farseeing enough. He is… impulsive.”

“You have a sense of him?”

“We have crossed paths. Long walk. Long talk.”

Ushering the Margrave forward, Pons spoke to the men. “Marius, seek John Ducas, and see if he could meet us on the sly later at the Golden Eel. Cyn, you run ahead and find us a boat to cross the straits.”

* * *

Maria was so annoyed she could have stamped her foot on the dock. The pretty lady at the fountain had told her that the message was important, but the longer Maria had to stay in the back holding flowers, the more she was forgetting it. She was starting to fidget and her little sister Anna, who held flowers at her side, could sense her anxiety.

The lady had seemed grateful to see her again and had spoken quickly and adamantly, only pausing to throw the evil eye at the bravest of the cat calling young men who came close. There had been no time to braid her hair, even though Maria asked, for she hadn't seen the pretty lady in ever so long.

She whispered something about Alexios, no there were two Alexioses. And one was going to die, and one needed to flee or he would die as well. And one Alexios was older and one was younger. And they were brothers. And the younger one was Emperor.

Only that couldn’t be right because the older son followed his father. Maria was only eight but she knew that much. Her baby brother Michael, who smelled like poo, would grow up and continue to stink, and butcher pigs, and cut them up, just like father, in the livestock market, in the Forum of Theodosius. Patera was never home, and mother was always busy with baby, and she was constantly cross, and she shooed them out of the house every morning. Maria wished her metera was nice like the pretty lady.

And there was something else the lovely lady had said. What was it? And then Uncle Nestor was summoning her, and the lady had to leave, and flowers were placed in her hands. She and Anna were to get an obol each to be flower girls welcoming an important man.

She needed to talk to the storyteller’s friend, but Uncle Nestor kept telling her to keep quiet. A great magistrate or someone was visiting, and she was to stand still, and carry flowers (both Maria and Anna liked that part), and smile, and “shussh,” and if she was good mayhaps she and her sister would get another obol or more. “Obols drop from Capatini Pons like turds pellets from a goat,” Uncle Nestor said. That made Anna giggle.

Before Capatini Pons arrived, Maria and Anna would only get a single obol to crowd in to listen to a story when Uncle Nestor gave the hand signal. The littler kids (the birds) would get up front to put the listener (the mouse) at ease while the big mean boys with the daggers and clubs (the cats) would close in and pounce. Then it was her job to snatch Uncle Nestor’s begging bowl and run off in the confusion. “I can’t fly like you, little bird, so I must appear to be a victim as well. That is how I will escape to meet you later at ‘the nest.’ I know I can trust you to return my bowl to me.”

A storytime robbery had not happened for some time. Begging and singing at the fountain, and carrying messages from the pretty lady, paid better.

On the dock Capatini Pons seemed to be giving everyone orders, and then Uncle Nestor was telling her to carry the flowers, and follow the Capatini and his guest.

Good.

She needed to find a moment to talk to him. He scared her a little. He was always polite to her, for a grown up, and gave her an obol for carrying messages, and sometimes bought her a meat pie. But she did not think he was always polite with everyone. Uncle Nestor seemed in awe of the man. Maria could sense that the man stepping down from the ship was important for the Capatini.

Maria knew one important rule that both her pateras and her metera taught her. She was only to speak when the grown ups were done speaking, or she would get a smack and go to bed without dinner. Capatini and his guest walked ahead up the avenue towards the Forum of the Bull, talking, talking, talking.

Politely, shyly, bearing bouquets, hoping for a moment to get a word in regarding the imminent peril of the empire, Maria and little Anna followed.