"David Drake - Belisarius 2 - In The Heart Of Darkness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

reactionaries in the room had insisted on dining in the archaic tradition,
instead of sitting on chairs at a table, as all sensible people did in the
modern day. The seventh man's aged body had long since lost the suppleness to
eat a meal half-reclined on a couch.
His name was Narses, and his back hurt.

The Indian spymaster's eyes had been fixed on Narses from the moment he made
the announcement. Months ago, Balban had realized that the eunuch was by far
the most formidable of his Roman allies -- and the only one who was not, in
any sense, a dupe. The churchmen were provincial bigots, the royal nephews
were witless fops, and John of Cappadocia -- for all his undoubted ability --
was too besotted with his own vices to distinguish fact from fancy. But Narses
understood the Malwa plot perfectly. He had agreed to join it simply because
he was convinced he could foil the Malwa after he had taken the power in Rome.
Balban was not at all sure the eunuch was wrong in that estimate. Narses, in
power, would make a vastly more dangerous enemy for the Malwa than Justinian.
So Balban had long since begun planning for Narses' own assassination. But he
was a methodical man, who knew the value of patience, and was willing to take
one step ahead of the other. For the moment, the alliance with the eunuch was
necessary.
And so --
"What is your reaction, Narses?" he asked. The Indian's Greek was fluent, if
heavily accented.
The eunuch grimaced as he painfully levered himself to an upright posture on
his couch.
"I told you it was a stupid idea," he growled. As always, Balban was struck by
the sound of such a deep, rich, powerful voice coming from such a small and
elderly man. A eunuch, to boot.
"It was not," whined Hypatius. His brother's vigorous nod of agreement was
intended to be firm and dignified. With his cosmetic-adorned and well-coiffed
head bobbing back and forth on a scrawny neck, the nobleman resembled nothing
so much as a doll shaken by a toddler.
The eunuch fixed muddy green eyes on the nephews. Against his bony face,
surrounded by myriad wrinkles, the effect was utterly reptilian. Deadly, but
cold-blooded. The brothers shrank from his gaze like mice.
Narses satisfied himself with that silent intimidation. Much as he was often
tempted, Narses never insulted the brothers. One of them would be needed, in
the future, for his puppet emperor. Either one, it did not matter. Whichever
summoned up the courage to plot with Narses to murder the other first. So, as
always, the eunuch maintained formal respect, and allowed his eyes alone to
establish dominance.
"I told you all from the beginning that the plan was pathetic," he said. "If
you want to assassinate a man like Belisarius, you had better use something
other than common criminals."
Ajatasutra spoke, for the first time that evening. He was the Indian mission's
chief agent. A specialist in direct action, a man of the streets and alleys,
where Balban manipulated from the shadows. His Greek was also fluent, but,
unlike Balban's, bore hardly a trace of an accent. Ajatasutra could -- and
often did -- pass himself off as a Roman citizen from one of the more exotic,
outlying provinces of the empire. A dark-complected Syrian, perhaps, or a