"David Drake - Belisarius 3 - Destiny's Shield" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

advisers, the advisers stood on their feet while the monarchs lounged in
massive thrones.
But --
"Of course we should accept the Persian proposal," came a harsh voice.
The Empress cocked her head and examined the speaker. He returned her gaze,
with his scarred and empty eye-sockets.
Justinian was the cause of that peculiar seating arrangement. By custom, the
former Emperor could no longer sit by her side. Officially, he was nothing now
but one of her advisers. But Theodora had not been able to bear the thought of
humiliating her husband further, and so she had gladly accepted Belisarius'
suggestion that she solve the problem in the simplest way possible.
Henceforth, when she met with her advisers, Theodora would sit with them in a
circle.
"Explain, Justinian," said Anthony Cassian. The newly-elevated Patriarch of
Constantinople leaned forward in his chair, clasping his pudgy hands.
"Yes, do," added Germanicus forcefully. The commander of the Army of Illyria
was scowling.
Germanicus nodded to Theodora. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I do not
view any alliance with Persia favorably. Damn the Medes, anyway! They've
always been our enemy. Persia and the Malwa Empire can claw each other to
pieces, as far as I'm concerned."
A murmur of protest began to rise from several of the people sitting in the
room.
"Yes, yes," snapped Germanicus, "I know that Malwa is our ultimate enemy." He
glanced at Belisarius' chest, where the "jewel" from the future lay nestled in
a pouch under the general's tunic. "But I don't see why -- "
Justinian's harsh voice interrupted. "Damn the Persians. And the Malwa! It's
the dynasty I'm thinking about." Justinian's bony hands clenched the arms of
his chair. "Don't fool yourselves," he snarled. "Do you really think the
aristocracy is happy with the situation? Do you really?" He cawed a harsh,
humorless laugh. "This very night -- I guarantee it -- half the Greek nobility
is plotting our overthrow."
"Let them plot all they want," said Sittas, shrugging. The heavyset general
smiled cheerfully.
"I'm a Greek nobleman, myself, mind you. So I'm not about to dispute
Justinian's words. If anything, he's being charitable. By my own estimate,
two-thirds of the Greek aristocracy is plotting our overthrow. This very
night, just as he says."
Sittas yawned. "So are the rats in my cellar, I imagine. I'm more concerned
about the rats."
Chrysopolis shook his head vigorously. "You are much too complacent, Sittas,"
he argued. "I myself share Justinian's concerns."
Chrysopolis had replaced the executed traitor John of Cappadocia as the
empire's praetorian prefect. He was the one other member of the inner circle,
who, like Germanicus, was not personally well-known to Belisarius. But the
general himself had proposed his inclusion. Among the highest Roman officials
who survived the purge after the failed coup d'etat which had been suppressed
by Belisarius and Antonina a few months before, Chrysopolis had a reputation
for ability and -- a far rarer characteristic among those circles --
scrupulous honesty.