In the Heart of Darkness(148)

"All you have done is blind a man who would someday have been blinded by death. You threaten to kill a man, when no man lives forever. Do it, then. Kill me with him. I am the Empress. I would rather die than yield."



She reared in her throne. "There is an ancient saying, which I approve: Royalty is a good burial-shroud."



Hell-gaze; hell-voice:



"Do your murder, then, traitor. Kill us, coward."



John clenched his fist, opened his mouth. But before he could utter a word, one of his bucellarii sprinted into the room. He skidded to a halt, almost tripping over the rumpled carpet. Sweat poured from his brow. He gasped for air.



Half-shouting; half-whispering:



"The Army of Bithynia's been routed at sea! Half their ships burned! Most of the survivors fled back to Chalcedon!"



Gasping:



"They say an army's moving toward the Hippodrome. Cataphracts. They say"—gasp—"the whore Antonina is leading them."



Hoarsely:



"And they say—Belisarius is here!"



Theodora's pealing laugh had no more humor in it than Satan's own.



Hell-laugh.



"You are all dead men. Kill us, traitors! Do it, cowards! As surely as the sun rises, you will join us before sundown."



Every traitor in the room stared at the Empress.



John of Cappadocia was famous for his sneer. But Theodora's sneer, compared to his, was like the fangs of a tigress matched to a rodent's incisors.



"Do it, cowards! Boast to Belisarius that you killed his Emperor and Empress. Do it! Tell the loyal man of your treachery. Do it! Tell the man of honor that you are murderers. Do it!"



Hell-sneer:



"After he spits your heads on his spears. After the flesh rots from your skulls. He will grind your bones to powder. He will feed them to Thracian hogs. He will have the hog-shit smeared on your tombs."



Silence.



"Do it, cowards. Kill us, traitors."



John snarled wordless fury.



"Keep them here!" he commanded the excubitores. "Until I return!"



He stalked out of the chamber, followed by his retainer. By the time he reached the door, he was almost running.



Once in the corridor beyond, he did begin to run. But Theodora's taunt followed faster.



"I will await you in the Pit of Damnation, John of Cappadocia! Before Satan takes you, I will burn out your eyes with my urine!"



After the Cappadocian was gone, Theodora lowered her eyes to Justinian's body.



"Release me," she commanded.



Hesitantly, but inevitably—as if giving way to a force of nature—the excubitores relinquished their grip. They were traitors, now; but they had been too many years in the imperial service to refuse that voice.



The Empress rose and walked down from the dais, onto the floor. She knelt beside Justinian. The Emperor was still unconscious. Firmly, but carefully, Theodora rolled him into her arms. She brushed the hair back from his ruined face and stared at the gaping, puckered wounds which had once been her husband's eyes.



When she spoke, her voice held not a trace of any emotion. It was simply cold, cold.



"There is wine in the adjoining room. Fetch it, traitors. I need to bathe his wounds."



For an instant, something almost like humor entered her voice. Cold, cold humor: "I come from the streets of Alexandria. Do you think I never saw a man blinded before? Did you think I would shrink from death and torture?"



Humor left. Ice remained: "Fetch me wine. Do it, cowards."



Two excubitores hastened to obey her command. For a moment, they jostled each other in the doorway, before sorting out their precedence.



A minute later, one of the excubitores returned, bearing two bottles. The other did not.



Theodora soaked the hem of her imperial robes with wine. Gently, she began washing Justinian's wounds.



The man who had brought her the wine slipped out of the door. Less than a minute later, another followed. Then another. Then two.



Theodora never looked up. Another man left. Another. Two.



When there were only four excubitores left in the room, the Empress—still without raising her head—murmured:



"You are all dead men."



Hell-murmur.



All four scurried from the chamber. Their footsteps in the corridor echoed in the empty room. Quick footsteps, at first. Soon enough, running.



Now, Theodora raised her head. She stared at the door through which the traitors had fled.



Hell-stare. Hell-hiss:



"You are all dead men. Wherever you go, I will track you down. Wherever you hide, I will find you. I will have you blinded. By the clumsiest meatcutter in the world."



She lowered her head; turned her black eyes upon her husband's face.