Gods and Monsters, Part 13

[mlyn.livejournal.com]

Gods and Monsters, Part 13
Rated R-ish
Notes: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
Archive: my LJ and 13_warrior only


The morning after the riot, Ahmed and Herger were summoned to the formal reception room where meals and parties were presented to guests. There, Ahmed found Irene sitting at the head of a large table. A man about Ahmed's age was sitting in the space reserved for honored guests, at her right hand. Another man sat at her left hand, a gentleman old enough to be her father. He had flowing white hair and elaborate robes, and watched everyone in the room with a sharp-eyed expression of amusement.

"Welcome, Ahmed. Please sit." Irene gestured to the side of the table where the older man was watching them. Ahmed and Herger took the ornate backless chairs and sat.

"Allow me to present Petros Adralestos, son of Tarasios Adralestos, and Basil Maniaces, son of my late husband's brother."

Ahmed inclined his head to the older man and then the younger. Irene introduced him in return, listing every nasab perfectly. Adralestos leaned forward and offered a hand in greeting, which Ahmed shook. Basil made no move.

"I have invited you all here to discuss the events at the hippodrome yesterday," Irene finished.

"I was not present. It was quite the scene, so I hear," Adralestos commented.

"An attempt was made on my aunt's life," Basil said to Adralestos. "A sad day for all of us."

"Depending on which side you support," Irene murmured.

Ahmed digested this, remembering that the loyalties for the racing teams extended beyond the track. Politics, business, and Constantinople society itself revolved around the Prasinoi and Venetii.

Basil did not respond to her comment. Instead he continued, "My servant lost his senses and went on the attack against all Venetii supporters at the races. If it had not been for Irene's guard," he gestured to Herger, "I would kill him myself for the affront on my family," he ended gravely.

Herger rolled his eyes and sighed. "Irene," he said.

Irene's gaze shot down the table. Ahmed kicked Herger lightly, murmuring "Madam" under his breath.

"Madam," Herger started again, "the man was attacking you specifically. He was not targeting any other people wearing the color of your team."

The look Irene gave Herger could wither spring grass. Herger got the message that she did not appreciate his slight against her intelligence, from the way he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. She murmured, "Thank you, Herger," and looked back at her nephew.

Adralestos sat back and toyed with a ring on his hand, watching the exchange with a tightlipped smile.

Basil spoke first. "You are not accusing me of an attempt on your life...are you, dear aunt?"

Irene forced a smile. "I am well aware of your feelings toward my family, Basil."

Basil kept his flat gaze on Irene's face as he answered, "In such brawls, one looks toward whoever is wearing one's enemy's colors. You know my house supports Prasinoi. I cannot help that one of my slaves got a stupid thought in his head and went on a rampage for every Venetii he saw. Perhaps women should not attend if they fear for themselves."

"I only fear intentional attacks on my family, not the hippodrome," Irene retorted. "And I will not stand for this behavior. Know that I will be keeping close watch on you." She stood, prompting everyone at the table to stand as well. Giving only a grim smile to Adralestos, she left the room without another word.

Adralestos looked at Basil. "As will I."

Basil curled his lip again. "Talk does not worry me. I have more important concerns." He pushed his chair away from the table and walked out with a cursory goodbye to the other man in the room.

Ahmed and Herger were left standing with the last guest. Adralestos stood and extended his hand to Ahmed again. "Hopefully that will be the end of this. Irene does not need the stress of Basil's quest for power."

"We all support her," Ahmed murmured, straightening his robes to walk with Adralestos to the door.

"Of that I have no doubt. But Basil has his own supporters, some of them more powerful than a widow with a good head for business. If you love her," he added, stopping to look at both Ahmed and Herger, "you will protect her life as if it is your own."

He left the room with a final goodbye.


Ahmed and Herger returned to their rooms. Herger immediately pulled out his weapons and began going through his saddlebags, looking for something. Ahmed watched him for a moment before wandering into the library.

He felt out of sorts this morning, listless and distracted. He wanted to worry about what threat Basil represented to Irene, but instead his mind only focused on how messy the bed looked after last night. Thinking of how it had felt to have intercourse with Herger only made him long for more, regardless of how much work he had to do.

He shuffled paper and tools on his desk for a moment, then went back out to the main room. Herger looked up when he stood next to him.

"How do you feel after last night?" Ahmed asked.

Herger shrugged and picked up a whetstone, pouring a little oil on it and scraping the tip of a dagger through the puddle. "A little sore." He gave Ahmed a glance and grinned. "No worse than after a day in the saddle."

Ahmed nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, looking around their room. It was then that he noticed a folded stack of clothing on a table near the door.

Thinking that his tailor had sent something to the house, Ahmed went to investigate. Instead he found a simple tunic covered with blue clavi, not at all something that the tailor would choose for him.

"I believe these are for you," he said over his shoulder to Herger. Herger stopped in sharpening his blades and looked over as Ahmed pointed at the tunic. Herger looked at it, made a disgusted face, and went back to his work. Ahmed sighed and wandered back into the library.

He finished the last two letter copies Irene had requested, and recopied the one Herger had wrinkled. He waited in her reception room with them while one of her servants went to fetch her.

When she came in, he rose and bowed his head respectfully. She took the letters and thanked him, then gestured toward the stool and divan they had come accustomed to taking. They sat and Irene ordered tea to be brought.

"I realize that I did not take you into my employ to be my political advisor," Irene said softly. She met Ahmed's gaze and reached out, taking one of his hands. "But I need all the allies I can get. Basil has the favor of the emperor. If I am not careful, I could lose all I have."

"I am dedicated to helping you in whatever way I can, madam." Ahmed held her fingers gently in his. Her skin was as soft as petals and smelled like fruit.

"Just as you are dedicated to Herger?"

He tilted his head at that, not understanding.

Irene pulled her hand from his, standing when the tea was brought in. She gave Ahmed his cup and, when she was seated with hers, continued with her point. "I know that you have a relationship. It does not matter to me what the details of that relationship are, but only that you treat me with the respect deserving of my station."

Ahmed hastily swallowed a mouthful of tea, burning his tongue. "Have I done anything to make you think I would not?"

Irene put her untouched tea aside. "No. I only want to be sure of your position here."

"You need not doubt that, madam." He felt stung that she seemed to doubt him.

"Which is why I am sending you back to your tailor. He needs you for a fitting. When you are finished, that will be all for the day."

Bewildered even further by her final words, Ahmed thrust his insecurities and doubts aside and put faith in the kindnesses she had shown him up to this point. He thanked her for her time and left the room.

When he arrived in the tailor's shop, he found an entire new set of clothes for him, from pants and a silk undershirt to an elaborately decorated outer robe. The style was based on his Arabic clothing but with fewer layers and more embellishment, which the Byzantines favored.

The tailor took his measurements and promised to have the alterations finished within the week. Not having ordered the garments himself, Ahmed could not be anything but pleased at the promise.

When he returned to the house, he realized the reason for the tailor's speed. Thecla was talking animatedly with her mother in the foyer, and when Ahmed walked in, Irene explained her excitement, and the reason for Ahmed's fitting.

"I have been planning my daughter's coming-out party. We will be holding it here, in three days."

Ahmed smiled, turning to the twelve-year-old. She had her mother's eyes and thick, curling hair, but a full mouth that resembled Basil's; undoubtedly from her father's family. "This is happy news. May the blessings and grace of Allah be upon you."

Thecla thanked him quietly, still too shy around him to be very gregarious with him in direct conversation. They were then distracted by Herger coming into the foyer, followed by Thecla's brothers.

Herger had gone to the boys' rooms after taking care of his weaponry. He didn't need to be with them at all times while in the house, but he apparently wanted the children to acclimate to his presence. The plan was working. Rather than being mute and terrified of him as they were in the beginning, the boys were now eager to show off and entertain him, vying for his attention.

Their commotion was not cheering to Ahmed. On the walk back from the tailor's shop, he had been entertaining an idea to spend time with Herger since he had no assignment from Irene, but he would not be able to do that now.

He greeted Herger and went on to his rooms, back to feeling itchy in his skin.


Later that night, Ahmed lay in bed with the sweat cooling on his body and listened to Herger's breathing steady. After a few minutes of silence he sensed Herger moving on the bed next to him, and from the sound of his voice realized that Herger had propped himself up to look at Ahmed.

"What has you so distracted?"

"Nothing." He rolled onto his side and put his hand on Herger's back, stroking through the sweat and feeling the muscles loosen under his touch. Herger dropped back down to his stomach and grunted softly.

"You think I am blind? I can tell that your mind was not here tonight."

"I thought the point of this activity was to lose one's mind," Ahmed answered sardonically. He sighed and pushed his hand under his pillow. "I am worried about these new circumstances with Irene and her nephew. I do not wish to become embroiled in a stranger's politics and get myself killed."

Herger's response came slowly, his voice slurred with sleepiness. "I am certain no one will kill an unknown Arab poet on the basis of politics."

Pulling a blanket up over his chest, Ahmed considered this. He could hear Herger's breathing slowing more as he drifted into sleep. "Of course you are right," he whispered, more for himself than for Herger.


The day of Thecla's party, Ahmed rose from bed late in the morning and dressed in his new clothes. Herger lay in bed and made admiring noises as the layers went on, the close-fitting trousers and the flowing shirt. Before Ahmed could put on the outer robe, Herger got out of bed and crossed the room in nothing but his skin, grabbing Ahmed's head in both hands and kissing him deeply. Just as Ahmed started to kiss him back, Herger bit him hard on the lip and squeezed his buttocks firmly, then stepped away with a laugh when Ahmed flinched.

"That hurt," Ahmed said, rubbing his mouth.

"But after the sting fades, it will throb pleasantly when you think of it," Herger grinned. He pulled on his leather trousers and began tying up the laces. Ahmed dropped his hand, realizing that Herger was speaking from experience, and that he was quite right. The feeling of warm swelling gave him a new thrill of excitement.

He had just pulled his robe on when he noticed Herger reaching for his old shabby shirt, and made a sound to stop him. He nodded toward the new tunic Irene had given him. "She will not allow you out of this apartment unless you wear that."

Herger snorted derisively, but Ahmed was right and they both knew it. He picked the tunic up off the chair where it had been sitting for four days, and underneath it found a large silver cuff. The lustrous metal was decorated with semiprecious stones, deep blue lapis lazuli, striated malachite, and fiery carnelian. Ahmed picked up the cuff and rubbed his thumb across the stones, then took Herger's wrist and put the cuff on his arm.

"This is not for me," Herger protested. He started to take it off, but Ahmed wrapped his hand around the cuff.

"Devout Muslims do not wear jewelry. It was under your shirt. Is it so unimaginable that Irene would give you a gift?"

Herger gave him a skeptical look and pulled his arm away. It was Ahmed's turn to laugh at him. "She likes you. Surely you can concede that."

It seemed that Herger started to agree, but before Ahmed could get a confirmation, there was a knock at the door. Herger finished dressing as Ahmed answered and found one of Irene's servants waiting.

"Madam requests you," the man said politely. He nodded to Herger, behind Ahmed. "Both of you."


In Irene's reception room, she smiled when she saw them in their new garments. She clapped her hands and then gestured for Herger to come closer, and took his hand to push his sleeve up one arm. The cuff shone in the sunlight pouring through the open windows.

"This was from my husband's coffers. I hope you do not mind my giving it to you. It means a great deal to me, but because it is a man's piece, I cannot wear it myself."

Herger smiled, going down to one knee as she continued to hold his hand. He kissed her fingers, gaze connecting with hers. "I am honored to wear it, madam. Thank you for such a beautiful gift."

Ahmed snorted to himself, watching this display from a few feet away. Quite a change from Herger's earlier attitude toward the cuff!

"It is my pleasure to give it to you and see you wearing it, especially on a day such as this." With that, she rose and looked at Ahmed. "I need you to perform a quick task, Ahmed. I would like to send a brief note to the esteemed guests I am inviting today. I already sent the invitations days ago, the ones you copied in Greek. But extra attention would be highly regarded, especially if my Arab delivers them. You will need to finish them within the hour."

Ahmed nodded, accepting without hesitation, although his mind was racing. She also wanted him to deliver them? He could understand that having an exotic in her employ would make her seem more powerful, but he was not a slave, and free men did not perform such tasks. It was a bold decision on her part, and in a way took advantage of his loyalty.

Irene looked back at Herger. "And you, my lovely Northman. I need you at my daughter's side every minute tonight. Do not let her stray or meet with danger."

With their tasks given to them, Herger and Ahmed parted ways. Ahmed went back to his library with Irene to take dictation and learn to whom he had to deliver the notes. Herger went to the children's wing of rooms and began the increased guard duty Irene demanded of him. Ahmed felt nervous at having many people in the house, especially after the strange events involving Basil and the riot, but he was Irene's employee and subject to her decisions.


To save his new clothes, Ahmed was taken around Constantinople on a litter by several of Irene's slaves to deliver the last-minute notes. At each of the five houses he visited, he was welcomed into a reception room and greeted jovially by Irene's friends. She was right, he saw; each man and wife seemed thrilled to see him and receive the extra attention.

He returned to Irene's house and was directed straight to the ballroom. All of the available slaves were there, setting out floor pillows and a huge feast. Irene was speaking with some musicians in a corner of the room. When she saw him enter, she smiled and called him over. As he approached, she produced a cup of cider for him.

"I hope you will enjoy yourself. You will be meeting many people," she said as she handed the cup over.

"I am looking forward to it." Ahmed sipped the drink. It was made from apples, cooked with a variety of spices and fermented to be a little intoxicating.

He stayed by Irene's side as guests trickled into the ballroom. Each couple approached Irene when they first entered, and she never failed to introduce Ahmed to them. He soon found himself caught in a conversation with a near stranger, each interrupted by Irene for new introductions, and starting a new conversation all over again. His head began to whirl with names and information.

Before he knew it, the musicians played a cue to capture the guests' attention. The ballroom doors opened and Thecla entered, smiling and blushing as the guests burst into applause. Herger was directly behind her, scanning the crowd with sharp eyes.

The musicians started playing again, and a crowd of young girls drifted onto the open floor to dance. They were friends of Thecla, having already had their coming out parties or preparing to do so. Ahmed watched the dancing for a moment, then looked for Herger in the crowd.

"As'salaam Alaikum," a quiet voice greeted him.

Ahmed turned and saw Irene standing next to him with an Arabic woman. Irene extended a hand toward each of them.

"May I present Ahmed ibn Fahdlan, my secretary. Ahmed, this is Naila al-Zarqa' bint Dabbah."

Al-Zarqa': the blue-eyed.

Naila's hijab was a gauzy blue, as vibrant and deep as the summer sky, and matched her eyes. They were lined with kohl and gazed at Ahmed with striking intensity.

As Ahmed took her hand and pressed it between his in greeting, Irene continued. "Naila is a widow, like me, and she helps me with my business, representing me in other cities and accompanying my caravans when she wants to return home. She has just arrived on the caravan from Baghdad."

Ahmed looked deeply into Naila's eyes, processing Irene's introduction. It was so refreshing to formally meet an Arabic woman, after being gone from his home for such a length of time. He felt as though knew so much of her with Irene's introduction, from only the few words and the sight of her: she was a Muslim, modest and pious, strongly connected to her roots. She was so different from the strange women practicing strange customs in the places he had been. So familiar.

He still held Naila's hand, feeling the brush of silk around her wrists.

"I have a note from your father," Naila said after Ahmed's long silence, a smile showing around her eyes. "You must pay me a visit, and I will give it to you."

Ahmed closed his eyes and bowed. "I would like that very much." Having broken eye contact, he felt as though he was released from a spell, and able to catch his breath again. He straightened and released Naila's hand. Irene moved away into the crowd.

"Have you been away from your home very long?" Naila asked, showing no intention of leaving Ahmed's company.

He nodded and sipped the last of his cider, then gestured for a slave to bring them both fresh drinks. "For over a year. I was an ambassador for the caliph, and then joined a band of Northmen on a mission to their lands. I have only recently returned."

"It has been two years since I have lived in Constantinople," Naila replied in her quiet voice. "I know how you must have been homesick."

Ahmed shook his head, putting a hand to his chest. "Madam, no! You have told me this, and now I know I have not felt homesickness as you must. Forgive my foolishness."

Naila smiled again, taking her drink from the slave who brought it. "There is no contest in heartache, and nothing to forgive."

Ahmed gestured to some empty floor pillows, and they took the cushions to talk more comfortably. "Please, tell me of Baghdad. What has changed?" Ahmed asked when they had settled.

He forgot about the rest of the guests and the party, leaning close to Naila to hear her in the loudness of the room. In their closeness, he could smell the musky sweet scent of her hair and skin. He was entranced by the way the heat of the room made her hijab cling to her mouth at times as she spoke.

At length, a shadow fell over them and Ahmed heard Irene call his name. He looked up to see her standing there, gripping her hands at her waist.

"Please come with me."

Ahmed excused himself and followed Irene out of the ballroom and to her reception room. Petros Adralestos was waiting there. Irene immediately turned to him and questioned him without preamble.

"Do you know where Herger is?"

Ahmed was confused. "Now?"

Irene clearly became impatient with him, her voice strained and a little loud. "Yes, now. He cannot be found. Thecla is missing as well."

Ahmed glanced at Adralestos with alarm, but the older man's face was hardly reassuring. He stared back at Ahmed, expression gloomy.

"No, madam, I am sorry. I have not seen him since your daughter made her entrance."

Irene sighed, looking more worried than ever. Adralestos came forward and took her arm, covering her hands with one of his, and looked at Ahmed. "Thank you. That will be all."

Ahmed nodded and excused himself from the room, but he would not let the matter drop. He immediately began looking for Herger as he moved through the house, intending to give him a severe tongue-lashing for worrying Irene and neglecting his duties.

Ultimately, he did not find Herger anywhere, but instead noticed that the noise in the ballroom had changed tone when he returned there. As he entered, he saw Herger standing behind Irene, and a stranger standing with Thecla in the center of the room. The musicians had stopped playing.

The crowd was abuzz. Some people were smiling smugly and chuckling, others whispering behind their hands. One or two couples looked as though they were enjoying Irene's predicament, avidly staring and talking to friends. A few looked unhappy and concerned. Ahmed saw one man shake his head and speak up.

"You know what you must do, Sophianos," he called to Irene over the noise.

She was pale but resolute. "I know, Jacob," she answered without taking her eyes off her daughter. Thecla's head was bowed.

Irene closed the space between them and lifted her daughter's head with a hand, murmuring something. Thecla did not blink or make a sound, although Ahmed could see the tracks of tears and bright red spots on her cheeks. Then Irene released her and gestured to Herger. Herger and Thecla left the room; Thecla banished to her bedroom, Ahmed surmised.

"I apologize for the disruption," Irene called to the room at large. "Please, stay and enjoy yourselves." She said this flatly, obviously knowing that some had already taken enjoyment in the spectacle.

The musicians started playing again, although the crowd had completely ceased to pay attention. Irene looked at the stranger next to her and led him from the ballroom.

She was gone for another hour. Ahmed spent the time caught in conversations with the rest of the guests. Naila found him again and introduced him to many of her old friends, keeping the flow of conversation smooth as they went around the room. If the other guests didn't want to know about him, Ahmed noticed, they talked about Irene and Thecla. Ahmed still didn't entirely understand what had happened, and so could only pretend to be engaged in those conversations.

While Naila kept the other guests engaged, Ahmed kept looking at her hands as she gestured while talking, noticing the henna designs on the palms and fingers. They reminded him of Herger's tattoos, and he found himself overly warm at the comparison. He gulped down cup after cup of cider to give himself a distraction, but soon found that his head was spinning. He took a floor cushion to rest, hoping that the effects of the fermented drink would wear off faster that way.

Eventually Irene returned, the stranger no longer at her side. It was getting late and many of the guests had started departing. Irene stood by the doors and said goodbye as they began to trickle out. At the same time Ahmed and Naila were talking to a man who was the primary source of marble for the city's buildings. The man was quite drunk, and his wife kept casting hopeful glances at Naila and Irene.

Finally Naila implied that she would be leaving, and Ahmed helped her to her feet to walk her to the door. The marble merchant and his grateful wife were directly behind them, the man having taken Naila's hint to leave.

Irene clasped Naila's hands and kissed her cheeks through her hijab. "Thank you for coming."

"It was my very great pleasure, despite the unfortunate event. You know you have my support and confidence." Naila cast a glance at Ahmed. "And you must come to my house soon and call on me."

"I will do that, madam." He smiled broadly, bowing again as she walked out. Irene smiled knowingly at him, a look that made him blush.


When Ahmed returned to his apartment, he found Herger inside instead of with Thecla. Herger had a keg of the cider on the floor and was pouring its contents into his mead horn. He was having trouble, with the horn held between his knees and the cider slopping unevenly out of the full keg.

"What are you doing here?" Ahmed frowned, leaning against the closed doors.

"I was dismissed for the night, and now I am going to get drunk." Herger seemed satisfied with the level in the horn and set the keg down, then took a deep drink.

Ahmed pushed away from the door and crossed to where Herger sat, the room tilting dangerously as he walked. He sat heavily and pulled off his turban. Herger offered his horn, but Ahmed waved it away.

"I am already drunk, I think."

"Really." Herger gave him an interested look, smiling as he took another drink. "Neither the fermentation of grape nor of wheat, eh?"

"Apples do not count." Ahmed grinned, feeling silly.

"I would think your priests would not agree."

That dispelled some of Ahmed's mirth. He got to his feet and unraveled his turban, pulling the length of fabric away from the skull cap. "Probably not."

Herger came up behind him and draped an arm around his neck, the horn dangling from his fingers. "I thought you had come to some peace about this. I did not mean to stir it up."

"I had accepted that my spirituality is no longer aligned with the word of Muhammad," Ahmed admitted. He slipped away and hung up the skull cap and turban fabric. "But it is hard to go against everything I once believed."

"That I understand," Herger murmured.

Ahmed turned, trying to figure out what he might mean. He realized in a moment that Herger's position in Irene's household, working and living in Constantinople, away from the wilds of the north and the customs of his people, would of course all be foreign to him.

He nodded, taking Herger's horn and drinking from it.


An hour later, they were undressed and under the bed covers. Ahmed had his arm over his eyes, hoping to make his head stop spinning. They had continued drinking and Ahmed was finding that more was not better. Herger was rubbing his stomach, telling him a rambling, pointless story about Hyglak to distract him from his discomfort.

Ahmed interrupted when a thought occurred to him. "Why were you dismissed tonight? What happened?"

Herger stopped the circling motions he was making on Ahmed's stomach. "The girl slipped away from me."

Ahmed waited, then raised his arm and looked at Herger. "That is it?"

"For Irene, that was enough to dismiss me."

Ahmed put his head down. "Of course, that would be. But why was Thecla so upset?"

Herger rolled onto his back, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "When she was found, it was with a man."

Ahmed's breath caught in his chest. "With? In bed?"

"No, just talking."

It was still enough for a scandal, Ahmed thought to himself. Thecla's reputation was compromised. She would not be able to marry in honor. And this on the day of her coming out party! No wonder Irene had been so upset.

"This is not good," Ahmed murmured to himself.

Herger snorted and rolled back onto his side, reaching over to continue rubbing Ahmed's stomach. "You do not have to tell me."

They fell asleep like that, Ahmed with his arm stretched overhead, Herger's hand on his chest.


Part 14